Review: Stitches

It seems like most of my reviews begin forming in my head with the words "I've been meaning to read [insert book title here] for ages, but..." and this is certainly no exception. Graphic novels have been growing in popularity for years, as have biographical comics dealing with dark and complex subject matter. The list of graphic novels I have been meaning to read is shocking in length, and right at the head is Stitches by David Small.

When I popped into a B&N a few weeks ago to stock up on Vonnegut books, I happened by a display with a single copy of Stitches stranded between tween vampire romance novels and I felt obligated to give it a new home. I was not at all disappointed, though I was surprised by the darkness of the story. I can't think of much to say about it, honestly, as it's the art that is so powerful. The words are very sparse and like any excellent author he truly shows rather than telling, because when you have the capability to so accurately represent a child's fears, isolation and confusion in picture why would you taint the power of the images with unnecessary words? The story Small has to tell of his childhood is so brutal that it became physically painful to read, in that way that some stories are so tragic that the pain of hearing them told is nearly too much to bear. I wanted to turn away, to close my eyes or shut the book but I couldn't leave the story untold - the telling itself was so beautiful. He focuses on body language, on small details and broad strokes alternatively, entire scenes or single body parts. It's absolutely incredible to me that Small is able to convey so much emotion through his slow telling of the story - some frames don't move the story forward but provide mood or context.

Selections from "Life, or Theatre"

Only the best graphic novelists are really capable of fusing the core components of a story, the actual telling, with just the right amount and type of visual context. In Small's case, he employs similar technique to my favorite autobiographical art book, Life, or Theatre? by Charlotte Salomon. It's also a staggering, painful work painted to tell the story of a tortured childhood. Where Small draws his story to reinforce the absence of a physical voice, Salomon painted hers as an exercise that she hoped would keep her from repeating her family's pattern of early suicide. Both use numerous artistic techniques to represent moods and feelings, notably increasing and decreasing level of detail and focus. Something blurred is present but not the narrator's focus, something highly detailed is the intended focus. Using tools like this allow a simple image to carry an immense amount of information to the viewer, and imbue the art with a nearly mystical power, connecting two minds directly without need for words.

This is not a book I will want to reread. Or flip through. Or think about often. But it's one that will stick with me for the rest of my life. This book made me feel human in the way that only the darkest and most expertly told stories can. For a long moment I had forgotten how deeply I am capable of feeling, but one look into this hellish childhood showed me the depths of my own empathy and the magnitude of suffering that people are able to endure.