In 1986, photographer Didier Lefèvre was hired to join Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors Without Borders) on a mission into Afghanistan, which was in the middle of a war with the Soviet Union. MSF had roots in the country but had been forced to leave because of escalating violence that had resulted in the deaths of some of their aid workers. With the country now at war, the need for medical care was imperative, and MSF intended to go back into the heart of the country to establish a hospital.
Getting to their destination was a very dangerous journey that required the help of the Mujahideen. They left Pakistan in the middle of the night and traveled by foot across the border and higher into the rugged mountain terrain of Afghanistan. It was Lefèvre’s job to photograph the journey entire journey, and unlike the others in the MSF team, he didn’t know anything about the culture or speak the language. The team was led by a woman named Juliette, and it is through Lefèvre’s eyes that we see Juliette negotiate with everyone along the way, from humble nomads to wealthy landowners and Mujahideen fighters; it’s a rare sight, considering she’s a petite white woman dealing with leaders from a male-dominated culture. Lefèvre is equally shocked when he sees their final destination: the war-zone hospital they establish in Afghanistan looks nothing like the Western hospitals he’s accustomed to. It’s a life-changing and physically taxing experience for him, and the treacherous journey back is equally formative.
American Born Chinese pretty much guaranteed that I would read anything else Gene Luen Yang created, so when Boxers & Saints came out last year to great critical acclaim, I put the books high on my TBR list. The books are sold as two separate volumes as well as in a boxed set, but the stories run parallel to one another and should definitely be read together. Both books begin in 1898, when Christianity was beginning to take a stronger hold on China. In the space of two years, Chinese rebels fought back against colonization and murdered Westerners, “foreign devils” (Christians), and “secondary devils” (Chinese converts to Christianity) in what would become known as the Boxer Rebellion.
Boxers tells the story of Little Bao, a young peasant boy living in rural China. They live a relatively peaceful, hardworking life — though, like many other areas of rural China, suffer because of a drought — but then thuggish Chinese strangers arrive and cause trouble. Little Bao’s father intervenes and the men leave, but they return later with a priest as converts to Christianity; as such, they are above the law. There’s a lot of unrest over the foreign devils taking over China, and when a stranger named Red Lantern arrives and begins training the village men in the art of combat, Little Bao is enthralled. He wants to learn, but his older brothers still consider him a little boy and tell him to get lost. Seeing this, Red Lantern trains Little Bao in secret.
What’s the difference between “crazy” and “creative”? Is there a difference? And if you take away the “crazy,” will you also be taking away the “creative”?
These are just some of the questions Ellen Forney found herself grappling with right before her 30th birthday, when she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Suddenly, all those manic highs that she’d once thought made her eccentric and endearing and whimsically artistic took on a scary new meaning.
Though it shed light on some of her behaviors, she was also terrified of what it meant in the long run. Medications might help, but there was the chance that they’d dull her senses and take away her artistic abilities. Then again, the other option wasn’t much better: people diagnosed with bipolar disorder were at a high risk of suicide and recurring hospitalizations; not treating her condition could also lead to more extreme manic episodes that might be harder to control. And so, with a lot of uncertainty, Forney began her rollercoaster ride of different treatment plans and medication combinations.
Growing up, Nicole Georges had always believed that her father was dead. Then at the age of twenty-three, Nicole’s friend took her to a psychic, who informed her that her father wasn’t dead. It’s a secret Nicole sits on for a long time, until finally broaches the subject and her sister spills the beans: no, Nicole’s father never died of colon cancer.
Nicole Georges’s graphic memoir is part coming-of-age, part unlocking-family secrets story about growing up in a stressful household. Her mother dated a lot and was occasionally in abusive relationships, and the stress manifested itself in Nicole in different ways She also grew up in hippie vegan Portland, raised chickens, and refined her art. By the time she was twenty-three, she was keeping a lot of her life compartmentalized: she was still in the closet where her mother was concerned, didn’t know how to broach the subject of her father with the rest of her family, and was trying to navigate the tricky waters of her relationship (which involved living with lots of dogs and traveling with her girlfriend on their band’s tour). The questions about what really happened to her father start to eat at her, and the confusion finally culminates with a desperate phone call to ultra-conservative call-in advice show host Dr. Laura Schlessinger, whom Nicole occasionally hate-listens to.
When I first heard the premise of Tim Leong’s Super Graphic, I knew I had to get my hands on the book (for real: I read a blurb about it and immediately began searching the local library catalogs). I just started reading graphic novels a few years ago, and though I seem to be reading more each year, I’m still a relative newbie to the comics/graphic novel universe. But even as a newb — particularly one whose main acquaintance with a lot of comic story lines = the movie versions of said stories — I freaking loved this book. It’s genius. Kind of obsessive and definitely geeky, but genius. Super Graphic is a crash course on almost everything you ever wanted to know about comics. The book is filled with nothing but flowcharts, Venn diagrams, tables, and a myriad of other types of infographics. If you can think of a way to present information through use of graphics, chances that format is in this book.
That said, Super Graphic is kind of a hard one to review! It has a very broad scope: Marvel and DC’s pricing history; the symbolism and changes in costume colors; a kill counter for The Walking Dead; the Library of Congress’s methods of collection management…the list goes on and on. I am impressed with the ambitious nature of this project. It’s overwhelming just thinking about the amount of research this book required!
I think something like this is better to see rather than read about, so instead of going on about the contents, I’ll just leave you with a couple of the graphics from the book so you can see for yourself (click to enlarge the images).