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.

Review: Mother Night

I found Mother Night to be an utterly fascinating read, perhaps even more interesting than Slaughterhouse Five. It begins with a plain statement of the book's moral, the eerie and appropriate "we are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be". I love that the moral prefaces the entire telling of the story, because it kept me on edge throughout the entire book, looking for the danger in every lie and hidden truth.

The story that follows, though it jumps around throughout the narrator's personal history, reads coherently and provides the reader with a robust picture of Howard W. Campbell. Campbell is a frank and honest man facing what he believes will be his execution and this makes him a very reliable narrator. He has the voice of a man completely disinterested with even the smallest lie for the sake of vanity. It is this brutal honesty in the face of his own mortality that endears him to me - not any heroic actions he undertook as a double agent during the war.

The book is typical Vonnegut in that his hero is constantly cut down, ridiculed and marginalized. He is reminded that no matter how much he might have assisted the Allied war effort, he gave considerable justification to the Nazi cause as well - he repeatedly meets Nazis who praise him and attribute their devotion to the cause to his eloquent radio broadcasts. He is a lucid and sane man who sees his actions for what they were - simultaneously constructive and destructive. He is fully aware of the evil done by his words, and takes full responsibility for his actions during the war even though they were done in his patriotic duty as a double agent. Meanwhile he is surrounded by unrepentant Nazis hoping to cop an insanity plea for their own actions. The only man with a half decent excuse for his actions is the only one not looking for one.

The end of this one is really powerful - for me the most touching moment is when Campbell insists on turning himself in, and the old woman recognizes in him the same utter inability to move forward or function without direct command that she saw in the faces of the people interred in the concentration camps. Campbell is so captivated and haunted by that same history and his part in it that he is wasting away himself, unable to place one foot in front of the other and walk out into the night as a free man. And of course, the final verdict managed to catch me off guard - it shocked and thrilled me. It has always seemed to me that the people who suffer the most are those who deserve it the least, and this book really illustrates that principle. Campbell is a sensitive man who suffers doubly, in recalling his actions and admitting his responsibility for them. He believes himself deserving of punishment and lives haunted by his crimes while the world spins around him, full of men denying their crimes and lying to live.

Review: Slaughter-House Five

After reading Armageddon in Retrospect and adoring Vonnegut's style and message, I picked up several of the new editions of his works. The volumes all look great - redesigned to include sketches done by the author. Much better than the old design used by Vintage. I dug into Slaughterhouse Five first and was surprised again - if I loved Armageddon in Retrospect, I absolutely adored this book. Irreverent, funny, ridiculous and extremely humane, this book danced around a subject that has always been of interest to me - the firebombing of Dresden by allied forces during World War Two.

Vonnegut writes with an admirable simplicity and clarity - his stories are not complex and involved. They are snippets of reality and fantasy, compassion and hatred, extraordinary compassion and total apathy. Like so many other writers who lived through wars in the first part of the 20th century, Vonnegut's writing is at its core a plea against the organized violence of warfare and violence of any kind.

I was honestly amazed by this book. It's an easy read and broken into many small sections, and since the story skips around constantly within Billy's life it is easy to read in pieces. I found myself enthralled with the book, yet happy to read a few chapters and then set the book down for a few hours or days before picking back up where I left off. It's remarkable that he is able to treat such dark material, something he lived through himself, with such delicate humor and insight. I wish I had started in on his writings years ago, but it's also nice to uncover such a wealth of excellent literature today.