Gone Graphic on Hiatus

Thank you for reading and responding to the monthly posts here. I am putting Gone Graphic on hiatus. I may on occasion continue to add essays about popular culture, literature, and travel to this site. Apart from the June, 2019 piece on “The Anne Frank Industry,” these essays are grouped here as “Articles.”

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On Hold

Across the Tracks

Even as I put these blog posts “on hold” for the summer, I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of many new graphic works from my local library.  I placed my request for one non-fiction book—adding it to my “on hold” library list—well before its recent publication date.  I had hoped to read Across the Tracks: Remembering Greenwood, Black Wall Street, and the Tulsa Race Massacre (2021) in time for this weekend’s centennial tributes to that painful event in U.S. history.  

Written by Alverne Ball and illustrated by Stacey Robinson, this graphic history comes complete with a timeline and background essays by concerned university professors.  It is one of is one of several titles aimed at tweens on up in the new Megascope imprint, focused on Black art and artists, put out by Abrams Books.  I commented about this imprint, with its strong focus on speculative fiction by Black authors in March.

Of course, reclaimed history about what happened in Tulsa in 1921, along with what is happening there today, remains vital long past the centennial commemorations, on site and in media newscasts and specials.   I look forward to catching up with Across the Tracks when my requested library copy arrives.

Have a great, safe summer filled with enjoyable and eye-opening reading.   I plan to resume blogging here in September.

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Being and Seeing Black Boys and Men

George FloydBeing and seeing Black boys and men . . . . Transfixed this past month by the trial of Derek Chauvin for the murder of George Floyd, taking place just eight miles from my Bloomington, Minnesota home, I wondered what I could bring today to this shamefully epic conversation.  When Daunte Wright was then killed just twenty miles from here, adding his name to the annals of police violence, I was horrified and questioned myself again.  Nothing original has come to my White, middle-class mind, but I can shine a spotlight on a luminous, insightful picture book created by author “Tony Medina &  13 Artists” of color. 

thirteen ways cover 2Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Black Boy (2018) was inspired—as award-winning Medina explains in the book’s End Notes—by two classic works of poetry: Wallace Stevens’ “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Black Bird and Raymond R. Patterson’s less well-known masterpiece, “Twenty-Six Ways of Looking at a Blackman.”  Those poems are too elliptical and long for most young readers, but all readers (as well as anyone who might simply be listening and looking) will appreciate the words and images in this slender picture book.

Medina uses a traditional Japanese verse form to capture our hearts and imaginations.  The brief tanka, as he explains here, extends by two lines the more familiar shape of the three-line, syllable-distributed haiku.  In a tanka, the haiku’s framework of 5-7-5 syllables is followed by two more lines, each containing 7 syllables.

Tony MedinaMedina has joyfully, powerfully met the challenges posed by this form’s constraints, with no awkwardness in the cascading word pictures he paints.  Each of the thirteen tankas—Medina’s “thirteen ways of looking”—is illustrated by a different artist of color.  The book’s back matter satisfies our curiosity about these co-creators: Floyd Cooper, Cozbi A. Cabrera, Skip Hill, Tiffany McKnight, Robert Liu-Trujillo, Keith Mallett, Shawn K. Alexander, Kesha Bruce, Brianna McCarthy, R. Gregory Christie, Ekua Holmes, Javaka Steptoe, and Chandra Cox.  Their visual art, each two-page spread inspired by a separate tanka, enhances our appreciation of this book, with its multiple. distinctive artistic visions.

lazy hazy dazeMedina’s poems speak to human truths that transcend national borders and poetic forms.  Similarly, the poems’ few references to “Anacostia,” the Black Washington, D.C. neighborhood that originally inspired this volume, are verbal touchstones rather than barriers to our understanding of their insights.  Notably, while Medina acknowledges the impact of poverty and prejudice on Black boys, his emphasis is on their joy in life, their loving family and community support, and their many successes, now and extending into adulthood.  As Medina writes in the book’s introductory poem, “Black boys shine bright in sunlight . . . We celebrate their preciousness and creativity/ We cherish their lives.”  This positive, life-affirming book is a wonderful tonic to offset the limited, destructive views of Blacks publicized so recently in murderous police violence.  In visual styles ranging from realism to abstraction, sometimes employing full color but in other instances using a dramatically limited color palette, the visual artists here enhance and elaborate upon Medina’s vision. 

Broke BusIt is hard for me to select favorites among these soul and eye-satisfying illustrated works.  Perhaps the beaming toddler, embraced by his parents in “Anacostia Angel” or the pensive young man in “Lazy Hazy Daze.”  Possibly the cartoon-like energy of the tweenagers depicted in “Athlete’s Broke Bus Blues” or “Givin’ Back to the Community.”  Skip Hill’s vision for “Images of Kin” is also memorable.  Its boy wearing a backward-turned baseball cap transformed into a crown, his face seemingly overlaid by—in Medina’s words—a “South East Benin mask/Face like a road map of kin” is so much more than the logo drawn on his T-shirt, “Southside Kings.”

East Benin maskYet I also cannot forget Robert Liu-Trujillos’s less upbeat spread illustrating “One Way Ticket,” whose words focus on small paychecks and mounting debts.  Its subdued, limited colors show a serious-faced boy clutching a bag of groceries, with the words “One Way Ticket” drawn as a wall grafitto, an elevated train in the background.  Also, “Cat at the Curb,” a tanka in which that animal has “nine lives not yet spent” [my emphasis], shows this animal darkly “Sandwiched between curb/And black radial tire.” These pages eerily bring to mind the videos of George Floyd’s car side murder.  I cannot, it seems, long forget today’s raging questions about police violence. 

Alfonzo JonesWith that in mind, I will point you and tween age or teenage readers to a relevant graphic novel written earlier by Tony Medina and illustrated by Stacey Robinson and John Jennings, I am Alfonso Jones (2017).  This award-winning work, centering on the fictional death of an innocent Black teen, also contains powerful examples of the real-life police murders that initiated the Black Lives Matter movement.  I reviewed I am Alfonso Jones in depth here and also referenced it in this post.  I myself am currently waiting for a library copy of a relevant, non-graphic compilation Tony Medina edited:  Resisting Arrest: Poems to Sketch the Sky (2016).   As has been said, the conviction of Derek Chauvin for George Floyd’s murder is the beginning rather than the end to gathering ideas and taking actions needed to achieve social justice.






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Back in School? That’s Fantastic

Woods titleHow excited are your students about schools beginning to open up for classroom lessons?  If their delight is tinged by a bit of uncertainty, given this past pandemic year of interrupted attendance, a recent graphic novel may provide engaging reassurance.  Its blend of fantasy with typical middle school events and issues offers a distanced focus on tween and teenage life—a storytelling step back from real-life school that matches how some kids now feel a bit new and strange in the classroom.  Certainly, The Wiernbook’s Be Wary of the Silent Woods, Book 1 (2020) will please all readers with its fast-paced action, detailed cast of characters, and aptly colored images.

You may already be familiar with some of author/illustrator Svetlana Chmakova’s award-winning graphic novels, in particular her four-book series set in fictional Berrybrook Middle School.   I reviewed its first two insightful, entertaining books—Awkward (2015) and Brave (2017)—here and reviewed the third book, Crush (2018), in this post The fourth volume, Diary, is a combination of related short stories and writing exercises that appeared in 2019 The images in this ruefully humorous slice-of-life series demonstrate Chmakova’s earlier experience as a successful writer and illustrator of manga.  The emotional wide mouths and cartoonish features typical of manga appear in Berrybrook School’s diverse cast of students and teachers and in this new book too.

Crush coverBut it is Chmakova’s incorporation of another of her successes—the setting of her urban fantasy series Nightschool: The Weirn Books (2009 -2010)—into Be Wary of the Silent Woods that sets it apart from the Berrybrook Middle School books.  In a recent interview, Chmakova revealed that she missed the fantastic world she had created in Weirn, with its older teen protagonists, and realized that nothing like it had been written for a middle-school audience.  The author/illustrator says that Be Wary of the Silent Woods is an offshoot rather than a continuation of the earlier adventure series, with “a different place, different time, and an entirely different cast of characters, and also a different vibe . . . more lighthearted.”

In its magic-filled New England town close by those silent woods,  supernatural beings, who coexist with humans, cope with daily difficulties in family and school situations that will feel familiar.  Tweenage narrator Ailis finds it hard to wake up in time for school, has a crush on older schoolmate Russ, and is best friends with her cousin Na’yah, with both girls routinely keeping an eye on Na’yah’s kid brother Deesh.  Yet the girls attend school at night, with a curriculum that includes spellcasting and creating defensive charms; Deesh attends “night care” rather than day care;  and Russ is a werewolf!  In this fictional world, Ailis’s family and many of her classmates are “weirn”—magic users who must learn how to use their supernatural powers, a fact that Ailis’ grumpy grandmother often points out.  Weirn are also notable because each has an “astral”—a pet-like supernatural creature bonded to it for life.  These ball-shaped creatures, unlike the daemons in Philip Pullman’s Dark Materials universe, do not speak, but each has a distinct personality and acts about the same age as its weirn. 


Astrals play an important role in the book as Ailis and her friends explore a seemingly abandoned house, discovering and ultimately defeating a long-lived, evil sorceress.  The astrals help the kids rescue themselves and a surviving victim too.  As this adventure develops, other weirn characters—“nerdy” Jasper and waspish Patricia—join Chamakova’s broad cast of characters.  Grandma also comes back into play, as Ailis discovers more about her family’s history with the sorceress.  The book’s subplots reveal background information about these characters that enrich and explain what has been their daily behavior.


Each of the 200 page book’s six chapters ends suspensefully, with its final epilog similarly concluding with a hint that the sorceress is not yet dead.  This strongly suggests she will reappear in book 2 of the series, now scheduled for publication in 2021.  Appreciative readers can look forward there to more of Chmakova’s deft visual storytelling, with figures sometimes overlapping panels to unite their action.  At other points, wordless panels carry along some events or situations.  Color also is at times key to the narrative, with full color replaced by sepia to mark old memories and the mysterious epilog hued in subdued lavender and blues.  Chmakova also makes dramatic use of different colors for sound effect words, effectively altering their typeface size and shape to match the events they describe. 

nightwoods 1

Eager readers who cannot wait for book 2 here may want to look at  Chamakova’s nine-part Halloween story, “The Town Tour,” currently on Instagram.  Although its central characters are Berrybrook Middle School kids, weirn youngsters also appear in this story.   Fans will also be happy to hear that Chamakova is at work as well on the next Berrybrook Middle School graphic novel.  It is the first of three new novels she is planning for that series.  Whether inside or outside of the classroom, works in both series are sure to provide satisfying reading.   

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Zooming Behind the Book Scene

 writer 1For most students, zoomed instruction has been a poor substitute for in-class learning.  Yet COVID-19’s simultaneous lockdown on author/illustrator visits to schools and bookstores has given readers a wonderful opportunity: an abundance of zoomed interviews with these creative people.  We can see and hear about how new graphic works were conceived and what their authors and illustrators especially want us to know about their work.  For instance, a few weeks ago I had the opportunity to learn about a new novel that will especially appeal to tween/teen and older readers who enjoy scary fiction or are interested in African culture.   

after the rain title After the Rain (2021), written by John Jennings and illustrated by David Brame, is a wonderful adaptation of a short story by award-winning Nigerian-American author Nnedi Okorafor.   Its brilliant colors, detailed pages, and strong storyline capture Okorafor’s acute observations about Nigerian and Nigerian-American culture.  I was interested to learn—in that zoomed interview with Jennings and Brame–that Okorafor herself, a long-time friend of Jennings, was involved in this book’s creation.  She provided the typical Nigerian cloth pattern featured on both its front cover and interior jacket pages as well as providing feedback on Jenning’s dialogue.   It was also interesting to hear Brame discuss how Jennings’ remarks influenced some of his illustration choices.  Multifaceted Jennings, himself a skilled illustrator as well as author and critic, won awards for the visuals in I am Alfonso Jones, reviewed by me here.)

 After the Rain explores the difficulties of belonging to two worlds—a situation familiar to many immigrant families and their kids.  Its central character Choma, a Nigerian-American woman, is a seasoned  Chicago police detective.  Yet the book opens in today’s rural Nigeria, where Choma is visiting her grandmother and great-aunt in their village.  Choma says “I rely on logic and evidence every day in my job.  I depend on it.  It protects me.” But how she co mes to grips with Nigerian traditions and beliefs in the supernatural is at this graphic novel’s heart.  Its gripping images capture and expand the escalating mystery, terror, shock, and slightly ambiguous resolution provided in the original Okorafor short story, titled “On the Road.”  (That work is available in the Okorafor short story collection titled Kabu Kabu.)

after ther rain stairs

After the Rain begins during a driving rainstorm, with Choma dashing towards the shelter of her grandmother’s small house.  Its blue-purple scenes yield to red-orange backgrounds when Choma,  later opening the door to an gruesomely injured boy, invites him into the house.  He soon runs off, but Choma cannot escape a growing sense of dread and horror.  In the next days, she feels as if she is being constantly watched and followed.  Angled, inserted panels focused on her face or on her entire body as well as whole pages wreathed in ominously entwined geckos or skull-laden flowers convey Choma’s terror.  The sickeningly sweet smell that haunts her is mirrored in the feathery black shadow creature readers see loom behind her on several pages, growing larger from one panel to the next.  Then, Choma’s emotions and experiences, rooted in Nigeria’s traditions about the supernatural,  are shown in surreal images where she meets the “Spirits, masquerades, ghosts, and ancestors” of her Nigerian heritage.  These figures themselves merge the novel’s dominant blue-purple and red-orange palettes.

after the rain double page

We learn in chilling, thrill-filled, and sometimes gory pages why those disembodied red hands figure so prominently on this novel’s cover.   And the puzzling behavior of Choma’s grandmother and great-aunt during Choma’s terrifying experiences “on the road” is explained before Choma flies back to Chicago.  Her heartfelt conversation with them also reveals how Choma is now finally able to look back and accept a violent act that took place in Chicago, years before she became a police officer.  As a very young woman, she had fought off and killed a man who attacked her.  Brame and Jennings depict this incident in swiftly-moving pages, with close-ups and some wordless panels continuing the breathtaking pace of the Nigerian scenes of terror.


 Choma’s experiences with the supernatural in Nigeria have left her a stronger person, freed from the unacknowledged guilt that had haunted her.  As she replies to the taxi driver taking her to the airport, she is not merely “American” but “Nigermerican.  Some of me lives here.  Some of me lives there. . ..”    She does not voice the smiling realization that follows:  “ . . .and where those two parts meet is where I am whole again.”   Brame’s illustrations and Jenning’s action-packed in-flight conclusion are further evidence of Choma’s strength and wholeness.

As John Jennings explained by zoom and in an earlier interview, After the Rain is the first volume in a new line of graphic works published by the Abrams compnay.  This Megascope imprint is dedicated to works by and about people of color, with a heavy emphasis on science fiction and fantasy.   In addition to those forthcoming graphic novels, I am looking forward to its graphicairport history book for readers 12 on up about the 1921 Tulsa, Oklahoma race massacre.  Across the Tracks: Remembering Greenwood, Black Wall Street, and the Tulsa Race Massacre will be published in May, 2021. 

Nnedi Okorafor has herself written some comics for teens and adults, while her all-prose works rooted in Nigerian culture include the science fiction Binti trilogy for teens and a contemporary mystery for tweens titled Ikenga.  I had the pleasure several years ago of hearing Okorafor speak in person about her life and work, when she was an invited, honored guest at the University of Minnesota.   Perhaps this online interview, with its embedded link to a TED talk she has given, may substitute for that sort of still locked-down “behind the book scene” experience.

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Class Acts

Biden-Harris1What a class act the new Biden-Harris administration is!  President Biden and his team have brought purpose and hope these past weeks–including efforts that suggest how a return to U.S. classrooms will someday be safe for all.  With that hope, today seems a good time to catch up with a great, eagerly awaited middle-grade novel centered on school life. Aptly, author/illustrator Jerry Craft has titled this companion volume to his award-winning graphic novel New Kid (2019, reviewed by me here) Class Act (2020).

One need not have read New Kid, which focused on the seventh grade experience Cover class actof Black 12 year-old Jordan, to appreciate Class Act.  Yet having that familiarity will enhance enjoyment of this new volume, which follows Jordan into eighth grade at the prestigious, mostly-white private school, Riverdale Academy, that he attends just outside New York City.  Class Act  looks at and contrasts the experiences of comparatively light-skinned Jordan with those of his friends, darker-skinned Drew and Caucasian Liam.  By deploying three central characters, Craft nimbly shows not only how skin tone affects racial interactions and prejudices but how economic class is a factor in personal and institutional expectations.

Jordan comes from a comfortable and caring two-parent, middle-class family, while Drew is poorer, being raised by a loving grandmother who works long hours to support their two-person household.  Liam’s family is wealthy, and he definitely does not need the financial aid Riverdale provides the other two boys.  How teachers and students treat Jordan and Drew—based on cultural stereotypes about Blacks–is at times both painful and painfully funny.  One teacher pushes overwritten books about Black gang life at them, falsely assuming their personal experience with such dramatized situations, while other teachers either overemphasize or fail to recognize the boys’ need for financial aid.  A secondary minority character, whose father is the CEO of a successful business, has his wealthy background equally misunderstood.  Realistic, sympathetic girl characters in this book include accomplished yet lovelorn Ashley, who bakes sweet potato pies to attract Drew, and Alexandra, who uses puppetry to mask what she at first perceives as her weaknesses.

Class act group photoCraft is never didactic, using insight and humor to communicate all these events–particularly the situations he himself and his now adult sons experienced at private schools.  Compounding these problems is the learning curve any tween or teen has to master.  As Craft has Drew plaintively remark to Jordan at one point, ” Getting As . . . is so much easier than all the personal stuff. . . . I wish friendship came with a textbook.”  It is only when Liam visits both Drew and Jordan’s homes, after they have visited his home and met his relatively unhappy family, that the boys solidify their relationships outside as well as inside school.  It is a hoot how much they all appreciate the tasty meals offered by Drew’s and Jordan’s families, compared to the thin-crust, designer pizza the boys cannot escape at Liam’s fancy home!

Class Act pieCraft also uses humorous visual elements to reinforce his plot and themes.  Confident, bossy seniors loom as literal giants over the sophomore students, while reluctant, sleepy students beginning the first day of school after summer vacation and other breaks—called “zombies” by Craft’s main characters–are literally depicted as zombies, with staring eyes, vacant expressions, and jerky body language.  Class Act continues its creator’s enjoyable tradition of using punning titles for each chapter.  While New Kid plays upon movie and TV show names, this companion volume plays upon kid lit book titles.  Jerry Craft even lampoons himself, with one chapter’s double pun, titled “Mew Kid” and supposedly written and illustrated by “Furry Craft.”  Of course, a cat is the main illustration there. 

class-act-race talkThis primarily full-color book also continues New School’s insertion of short, black-and-white comics supposedly drawn by artistic Jordan.  This character’s words and pictures in the comics sarcastically point out the racism he feels and sees at tony Riverdale Academy.  A visit from the Academy’s new sister school—a public school from an all-Black neighborhood–provides several chapters of further differences and misunderstandings between private Riverdale and the poorly-funded public school.  In our real life COVID times, such differences frequently determine how and when it is safe for students to return to classrooms rather than learning online.  Fictional Riverdale has ample space and, I suspect, state of the art air circulation systems, unlike its Bronx sister school, which even lacks books for many classes.  Riverdale would probably be among those private schools which this past year only briefly shut down classroom instruction.  Class Act‘s other visual storytelling elements include the effective use of rare, dramatically noticeable double page spreads (including chapter headings) and some pages in which the omission or changed size of panels appropriately heightens reader attention.

How much will your young readers enjoy Class Act?  This trailer for the book will pique and confirm their interest.  Jerry Craft’s interesting responses to frequently-asked questions about his books and writing are also available here at his website, while this interview with him details how real-life experiences led to his depiction of Riverdale Academy, with all its flaws as well as successes.  One need not—and should not—relegate reading of wise and funny Class Act to February’s serendipitous celebration of U.S. Black History month.


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Dark Nights and Brighter Days

conjunctionThis past week’s winter solstice, overlapping with the rarely seen  conjunction of planets Jupiter and Saturn, had me rethinking and rereading a similarly special, mysteriously meaningful new picture book, The Wanderer (2020).   As I mused about how we rejoice each year, anticipating the brighter days that reliably follow our darkest night, I wondered about what other predictable rarities, such as that planetary conjunction, might remain beyond our sight.  What might we do to explore and find such “unknowns”?   With The Wanderer, Dutch author/illustrator Peter Van Den Ende stirs such questions, providing answers that provocatively yoke real-life situations to imaginary ones.

wanderer titleReaders young and old will enjoy poring over his pen and ink, cross-hatched drawings.  These black and white images detail the adventures of a paper boat as it journeys across seas surrounding continents shaped like ours yet populated by strange creatures unlike any in our known world.  Fish with human hands and horses, tigers, and elephants with fins are just some of the chimeras Van Den Ende depicts.  Lavishly detailed in frequent full or double-page spreads, sometimes employing Escher-like patterns, his visual story shows some of these creatures helping the storm-tossed boat while others threaten it.  One huge fish even ominously stands on a stack of shipwrecked vessels!  Midway through the book, one of these hybrid, human-shaped creatures, along with a cat,  boards the boat, joining it on its adventures. Continue reading

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New Lights on Hanukkah

menorahDo your spirits need a lift?  In this time of raging COVID-19 and  President Trump’s outrageous behavior towards President-elect Biden, my heart has been gladdened by picture books casting new light upon Hanukkah.  One of these charming works is particularly well-suited for young readers whose families may celebrate Christmas as well as this upcoming Jewish holiday.  All these books emphasize human determination, generosity, and emotional connections, regardless of religious affiliation—or lack of any affiliation.  Their refreshing takes on Hanukkah, each deploying a child-friendly literary tradition in a new way, are comfortingly familiar even as they are engagingly different.

Nate GadolThe Hanukkah Magic of Nate Gadol (2020), written by literary luminary Arthur A. Levine and illustrated by the accomplished Kevin Hawkes, creates a new mythic character to represent Hanukkah, much as Santa Claus is a secular representative of Christmas.  In fact, in this picture book we discover that Nate Gadol and Santa are old friends!  This title character’s name comes directly from the supposed miracle that occurred at the end of an ancient fight for religious freedom, commemorated during Hanukkah.  When only one day’s holy oil was left in the main Jewish temple, it miraculously lasted eight nights.  World-wide, Jews now recognize the Hebrew words “Nes gadol haya shem”, meaning a “A great miracle happened there,” attached to the dreidel (spinning top) game typically played each Hanukkah night.  Nate Gadol echoes “nes gadol.”

NatedamIn this book, Nate Gadol is a magical character credited not only with the holiday’s original supposed miracle but also with dispensing gifts to good needy Jewish people.  Levine’s main story shows how the children of one 19th century immigrant family, the Jewish Glasers, receive winter holiday presents just like their Christmas-celebrating neighbors.  In his final “Author’s Note,” Levine, who is Jewish, does not view the children’s wish for presents as a “December dilemma, as many traditional Jews still do, but as just one part of Jewish-American history.  It is, Levine writes, just “a bit more mythology” added to a religious holiday, similar to Santa, his elves, and reindeer.  (Along the way, I also see that the supersized Nate Gadol is shown fixing some colossal problems, such as a burst dam, akin to the spectacular deeds of such American tall tale heroes as Paul Bunyan—a further link with traditional Americana.)

Hawkes’ richly-colored, painterly illustrations emphasize this connection with American history, depicting Nate dressed in clothing worn during the Revolutionary War.  Hawkes’ illustrations, gleaming with gold much like Nate’s eyes—”shiny as golden coins and. . . smile that was lantern bright,”—also complement the joyful receipt of gifts by Levine’s characters.  The immigrant Glaser children and parents are worthy of gifts because of their generosity to their fellow immigrants, the O’Malleys.  Packaged gifts are shown by the book’s end to be a new, delightful part of their American Hanukkah. 


Generosity, compassion, and family feeling, however, remain more important than gifts, with the Glasers buying the O’Malleys needed medicine with money they might have spent on Hanukkah chocolate.  Mrs. Glaser also is shown earlier quietly giving up her own tiny bit of chocolate to her children.  Then, Nate Gadol steps in to magically reward these good deeds with those presents!  This brief, warm-hearted book will be best appreciated by young readers who already have some knowledge of Hanukkah and its traditions.

RuthiecoverSimilarly, some familiarity with Hanukkah will enhance enjoyment of Little Red Ruthie: A Hanukkah Tale (2017), written by Gloria Koster and illustrated by Sue Eastland.  This variation on “Little Red Riding Hood” proudly acknowledges its literary heritage in Koster’s opening dedication to her mother, “who gave [her] the gift of fairy tales once upon a time.”  In an interview, the author has explained that another of her favorite fairy tales, the “Snow Queen,” inspired the icy, snow-laden setting of “Little Red Ruthie.”  Her modern-day Ruthie is going to her Bubbe’s house (“Bubbe” is the Yiddish word for Grandmother) to again make potato pancakes, a traditional Hanukkah food, with her.  In fact, Ruthie’s recipe for these “yummy ‘latkes’ ” (Yiddish for pancake) concludes this playful, positive book.

Eastman’s full-color illustrations, created with computer graphics, aptly use red throughout the revised fairy tale.  Instead of a hood, Ruthie is bundled up in a scarlet, puffy down jacket, while interior scenes in Ruthie’s and Bubbe’s houses feature red décor and clothes.    Outdoors, red-tinged squirrels and birds stand out against the snowy confrontations between Ruthie and the wolf.  The exaggeratedly cartoonish features of that creature are a visual reassurance that Ruthie will triumph here.  Yet it is the way she tricks the wolf that is notable.

RuthiewolfUnlike some traditional Red Riding Hoods, Ruthie does not require rescue by someone else.  She reminds herself to be “brave as the Macabees,” the heroic warriors in the Hanukkah story, and she cleverly delays the wolf by playing upon his greedy appetite.  Being an “excellent reader” also helps Ruthie, as reading Bubbe’s note helpfully explains where her grandmother is and when she will return.  Determination, family feeling, and literacy—as well as the ability to prepare a delicious Hanukkah food, all the while explaining the holiday’s story—are the values and achievements extolled in this seemingly simple tale. 

YoungrabbicoverFamily warmth and connectedness are also extolled in There Was a Young Rabbi: A Hanukkah Tale (2020), written by Suzanne Wolfe and illustrated by Jeffrey Ebbeler.  This picture book draws upon the cumulative rhyme tradition exemplified in “There Was an Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly” and, particularly at this time of year, in the traditional English Christmas carol “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” 

This picture book shows a young woman rabbi successfully juggling her synagogue obligations with preparations for Hanukkah, a religious holiday notably celebrated at home. So, watched and at times helped by her husband and elementary-aged children, the rabbi is both very busy as well as happy!  On single rabbiinteriorpages and on a few double-page spreads, we see images that add visual pleasure to such refrains as “There was a young rabbi who played dreidel to win.  She watched it closely as it started to spin. /The dreidel—it spun.  The rabbi—she won!  Kosher brisket she made.  At least ten pounds it weighed.”  For young readers unfamiliar with Hanukkah, some pages have a brief boxed fact in unobtrusive type at the bottom of the page.  Also, these readers will benefit from the short overview of the holiday provided on the book’s final page.  (Youngsters will have to learn elsewhere that some Jewish denominations still do not accept women as rabbis.)

rabbitableEvery reader will smile at Ebbeler’s cheerfully colorful, cartoon-like drawings, with grandparents whose features and big eyeglasses resemble the rabbi’s coming to celebrate one holiday night.  On another night, Hanukkah food and games are shared with a child guest, her wheelchair no obstacle to enjoying the menorah’s bright lights and holiday fun.  Reading this story book aloud, for those who do celebrate Hanukkah, might just become a new family tradition!

As the days grow shorter and the countdown to a new president looms ever larger, I needily relish these glimpses of holidays to come, of times when virulent disease will not keep cautious, concerned families apart on such festive occasions.  These books are indeed happy reading.




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Voting Rights and Wrongs


The upcoming presidential election and its aftermath are hot topics!  In conversations and the news, questions about voting rights and wrongs are almost unavoidable.  A recent book titled Women’s Right to Vote (2020), written by Kate Messner and illustrated by Dylan Meconis, will bring perspective on this controversy to readers tween and older.  Part of publisher Random House’s “History Smashers” series, this entertaining, highly illustrated volume uses humor to reinforce its serious message about voting inequities and people’s fights to correct these injustices.  This new book expands on points made in some earlier graphic works about the voting discrimination faced by women and Black people, reviewed by me in this post as well as this one and here.

Women’s Right to Vote communicates this longstanding discrimination through humorously blunt words and clearly-drawn black and white images.  For instance, Messner titles two of her book’s ten chapters “Two Steps Forward, One Step Back” and “Listen Up, White House!”  At one point, she captions Meconis’s illustration of the grim-faced response of Supreme Court justices to the possibility of women’s voting with just one pungent word:  “Nope.” 


Throughout this book, Meconis deploys expressive features as well as artful body language to complement and expand Messner’s information.  For example, when readers learn that rights advocate Abby Kelley Foster was pelted by rotten eggs and food, the illustration also shows Foster gripping an apple as though she is about to toss it back at her opponents!  Most of Meconis’ illustrations are single half or full-page drawings but she also includes a handful of double-page graphic novel episodes to deepen key historical moments.  This hybrid novel’s illustrations also include a number of photographs and a few contemporaneous newspaper illustrations. 

Facts which often have been omitted from the history of voting rights pepper this volume.  Readers may be surprised to learn about Queen Amina’s long, successful reign in 16th century Nigeria or how, until 1807, women voted in New Jersey because the law there did not forbid them from doing that.  Yet such individual facts are less significant than the ongoing differences of opinion within the women’s rights movement highlighted in Women’s Right to Vote.  Sad to say, an influential number of white women activists, including such prominent figures as Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony, did not believe Black or immigrant men, let alone women, should have the vote.  They argued against this, either out of racism or political expediency, and later, along with others, downplayed or separated the efforts of Black women activists from white women’s groups.  One of Meconis’ graphic novel episodes, featuring Frederick Douglass among others, portrays the complexity of activist views on this issue.  Some Black activists such as Mary Church Terrell and Ida B. Wells-Barnett formed their own groups to advocate for voting rights.


Sometimes, Black activists refused to accept their exclusion from officially all-white groups and their events, joining in the protest marches organized by these organizations.  These strong, at times bitter differences among people otherwise seeking similar political changes will resonate with today’s readers.  We are well aware that supporters of each of this year’s presidential candidates frequently have different goals and priorities motivating their support.  How to identify and change systemic racism is just one of these differing points within and between these groups.   

Women’s Right to Vote also catalogues the ways in which police here in the United States and in Great Britain consistently overlooked violence against women protesters, sometimes themselves brutalizing protesters during events and after arresting them.  Most judges upheld then-current laws, fining and imprisoning some protesters.  This long history of government officials perpetuating or sanctioning violence against protestors, however non-violent, also resonates today, in daily news and the presidential campaign.  In the book’s final chapter, “The Fight Goes On,” Messner highlights this relevance by concluding with photographs of current, diverse women legislators, subtitled “the changing face of leadership.” She and Meconis also discuss how some laws about voting registration, filing, and location continue to limit or hinder people’s right to vote.

It is my strong hope that former Vice-President Biden will become our next president.  If that does not come to pass, Women’s Right to Vote—with its accompanying lengthy timeline of protests and eventual legislative change—is a heartening reminder that progress towards justice and inclusion eventually does occur.  That this book is just one among a spate of volumes published this last year to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the 19th Amendment, legalizing the voting rights of all U.S. women, is another heartening reminder of progress.  If the aftermath of the election is contested, we may also benefit from the perspective on social and political change offered by this book.

Appreciative readers of Women’s Right to Vote will definitely enjoy Messner and Meconis’ other volume in the History Smashers series:  The Mayflower (2020).  It is both very light-hearted and informative.   I look forward to their upcoming volumes in this series:  Pearl Harbor (2021), The Titanic (2021), and The American Revolution (2021).  

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Graphic Insights into Racism

Since George Floyd’s death in Minneapolis last May, public outcries have re-focused attention on the injustices that a few years ago triggered today’s Black Lives Matter movement.  For readers tween and up, that movement’s emotional center and origins are embodied in the enormously powerful graphic novel I Am Alfonso Jones (2017), reviewed in depth by me here.  Its author Tony Medina and illustrators Stacey Robinson and John Jennings are outstandingly effective in depicting the truncated life of fictional New York teenager Alfonso, using magical realism—the narrative device of Alfonso’s ghost and the spirits of other actual, unjustly slain Black people—to highlight his and others’ losses. 

Sad to say, the long and difficult process of transforming insight into social change continues to inspire noteworthy graphic works.   Artists world-wide quickly responded to the slaying of George Floyd.  Yet it is a different instance and kind of racism on May 25, 2020, the very day that Floyd died, and the graphic work this incident inspired, that is my focus today. 

“It’s a Bird” (2020) is a fictional graphic short story rooted in the emotional rather than physical violence its author Christian Cooper experienced while birdwatching in New York City’s Central Park, just hours before George Floyd’s death.   A white woman, asked by Cooper to restrain her dog, tapped into racial stereotypes and years of police violence against Black men, falsely telling police that an African-American man was threatening her life.  In reality, this phone call was a threat against Cooper!   In his story springing from this exchange, 57 year-old Cooper added characters and transferred his experience to a younger man.

Readers tween on up will empathize with the teenaged central character in this expertly-crafted story, illustrated by Alitha E. Martinez and colored by Emilio Lopez, which is accessible online for free as part of DC Comics new Represent! series.  This digital series, according to its editors, “is designed to showcase and introduce creators traditionally underrepresented in the mainstream comic book medium . . . highlight(ing) both new and familiar voices.”  Christian Cooper is both a new and a familiar voice in comics, since before he left that industry twenty years ago for science writing, he was a successful comic book editor.  One of his projects was Marvel Comics gay superhero Northstar.

Readers of “It’s a Bird” will appreciate how, in a few words, Cooper establishes the loving if-prickly relationship between protagonist Jules and his thrifty father.  Jules would rather grudgingly use heirloom binoculars than lose his expensive new Playstation. He does not believe his father’s remarks that those binoculars are said to have “special powers”—ones that kept Jules’ grandfather safe during the Korean War and later civil rights protests.  Jules doubts this supposed luckiness, sarcastically referencing heroic super powers such as Superman’s “x-ray vision.”  To Jules’ amazement, after his encounter with a neighborhood bigot and then that biased dog owner, the binoculars do turn out to have a kind of x-ray vision.  Each time Jules views a bird through them, he also astonishingly sees the translucent head of a Black person unjustly killed by police.  Each of these circular framed shots is followed by a full-scene depiction of that death, grimly colored in red and black. 

As in I am Alfonso Jones, with such scenes this short story deploys magical realism as a significant plot element.  Its final page, with Jules viewing a large image of all those slain people flocking together, each with the wings of angels or superheroes, might similarly be either a real or imagined vision.  We are left with the initial uncertainty of observers within traditional Superman tales, who wonder, “Look! Up in the sky. Is it a bird? Is it a plane?  No, it’s Superman!”  The title of Cooper’s birdwatching tale makes ironic, ambivalent use of that well-known pop culture refrain.  Cooper further acknowledges its impact with the few words displayed at the page’s top:  “Up in the sky.”  This is a powerful blend of verbal and visual storytelling by Cooper and illustrator Martinez.   In addition, the effective absence of panels on that final page, intensifying its drama, also occurs at several points throughout the short story.  At other points within its ten pages, unframed images overlap panels, enhancing a scene’s tension.  

Jules’ growing, oppressed awareness of this history of racial violence is shown in close-ups of his increasingly disturbed features.  In an interview, Alitha E. Martinez, the daughter of immigrants from Honduras and Curacao, has said that Jules’ expression is one she saw on her own young son’s face, after his first encounter with racism.  This story’s merger of disturbing fact with engaging fiction culminates in its back matter. 

This includes a page devoted to Christian Cooper’s Central park experience; a page apiece for Amadou Diallo, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd, the other victims depicted and mentioned by name within “It’s a Bird;” and a final page listing six other Black people slain unjustly by police.  That page ends with ellipses to indicate the ongoing status of this institutionalized violence. This week’s court decision assigning no criminal blame in Breonna Taylor’s death, many would say, is another instance of institutionalized violence being deemed acceptable.  On these back matter pages, the brutal information given about each victim is visually highlighted by boldly-colored text against a black background. 

Reading Cooper and Martinez’ “It’s a Bird” has left me looking backwards as well as ahead.  I will keep an eye out for more works in DC’s Represent!  series as it grows.  I also want to catch up with the award-winning Black Panther: World of Wakanda, (2016 -2017), illustrated by Martinez and written by Roxanne Gay, now available in a one-volume collection.  The recent, cancer-caused death of Hollywood’s Black Panther star Chadwick Boseman adds new poignancy to this 21st century iteration of the Black superhero who originally appeared in 1960s comic books. 

Readers might, in honor of birdwatching Christian Cooper, a board member of the New York Audubon Society, want to look at a fine graphic biography of that groundbreaking ornithologist himself:  Audubon, On the Wings of the World (2016, 2017), reviewed by me here.   The national Audubon Society itself just spotlighted “It’s a Bird” in its on-line magazine.   In response to Christian Cooper’s experience, the Audubon Society also recently held an on-line Black Birders Week.  

Finally, readers might avoid potential confusion by keeping in mind that there are two fine graphic works titled “It’s a Bird”!   Both have autobiographical elements.  Author Steven T. Seagle also references Superman throughout his full-length, semi-autobiographical novel, It’s a Bird . . . (2004; 2010; 2017).  Illustrated by Teddy Kristiansen, that award-winning graphic novel, reviewed by me here, focuses on the impact of an incurable genetic disease, Huntington’s Chorea, on Seagle and his family.  





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