cerusee: a white redheaded girl in a classroom sitting by the window chewing on a pencil and looking bored (Default)
Graphic novels:

Sfar, Joann: The Rabbi's Cat 2
(electric...oh, you know. I loved it as I loved the first one, and what a lovely thing it is).

Sturm, James, writer, Rich Tommaso, artist: Satchel Paige: Striking Out Jim Crow
(I thought this would be more depressing, but only because I misunderstood the plot as described in reviews I've read. It's more satisfying than I'd envisioned. I really do not give a shit about baseball--here I remind you all that I currently live in Boston--but when I read Sturm's smart, tight stories about baseball and racism, I can almost care).

Nilsen, Anders: Dogs and Water
(really not as good as the cover blurbs would imply. Was there a point to this?).

Crane, Jordon: The Last Saturday
(wordless GN. This is sentimental in the vein of Owly, and I think the creator is local to me).

Tanaka, Veronique: Metronome
(wordless GN. Wow, that is hypnotic. Nicely done indeed).

Simmons, Josh: House
(wordless GN. It's nice that somebody went to the trouble of reproducing a the formula for a crappy horror flick as a graphic novel; the art form is surely richer for it).

Nuckel, Otto: Destiny: A Novel in Pictures
(wordless GN).

Hyde, Laurence: Southern Cross
(wordless GN. What is with the woodcut/wood engraving thing in the first half of the 20th century? I'm sure there's an explanation, maybe even several, and I can imagine reasons, but I don't know).

Ernst, Max: Une Semaine de Bonte: A Surrealistic Novel in Collage
(and surrealistic is the only possible description for it!).

Drooker, Eric: Flood, Blood Song
(wordless GNs, lovely, lovely work. Most everything in this post deserves a place in a good GN collection, but Blood Song particularly is a fine piece of work I can imagine reading many times over).

Sis, Peter: The Wall: Growing Up Behind the Iron Curtain
(as it is autobiographical, and the art is smart and cool, I almost can't bring myself to quibble over yet another book about how the Beatles or Elvis or whatever represented freedom to someone living in a place without freedom (a crude but speaking sort of equation).

But as someone who was raised in the promised land? We have lies, cowardice, deceit, distrust, repression, and all the other ills you spoke of, and we have the Beatles and Elvis and rock music and denim pants, too. They aren't freedom, and they never were. I don't mean to say there's no difference between a democratic republic and an authoritarian state. There is a difference. But this cheerleading of the West for its mutable cultural fads is a little too vigorous for me to be comfortable hearing it from a mature adult, because it makes me wonder if the people cheering are able or willing to perceive its existing sins. The stuff that happened on your side was bad, but there's bad stuff over here, too, and it's dangerous to ignore it.

Some lovely cartooning, here, and a brilliant use of color).
cerusee: a white redheaded girl in a classroom sitting by the window chewing on a pencil and looking bored (Default)
Graphic novels:

Sturm, James: The Golem's Mighty Swing.

Delisle, Guy: Shenzhen: A Travelogue from China
(Delisle occasionally struck me as a jerk in Pyongyang, but I was distracted by the awfulness of North Korea. China and Shenzhen sure as hell aren't paradise, but with their comparative freedom and openness and chaos, Delisle's discontent with his surroundings seems pettier and less profound.

Also more sexist. When he sees women wielding pickaxes on a construction project, he remarks that this is "the downside of women's liberation."

No. No it isn't, you smarmy dickwad. Women have been doing manual labor all over the world for as long as there's been manual labor. They've been doing this type of manual labor as well as domestic manual labor like cooking, cleaning, and laundry, and it's only ever been in select times and places where women belonging to the wealthy, privileged classes wouldn't have done any manual labor at all, and you can be damn sure that in those times and places and classes, their male counterparts wouldn't have been doing manual labor either. Throughout the history of the fucking human race, women have worked just as hard as men; this is not some kind of unforeseen side-effect of feminism that leaves Chinese women writhing with chagrin.

The shallow flippancy of that remark ticks me off, not least because in an earlier chapter, when Delisle notices a female hotel worker furiously scrubbing laundry by hand, his only reaction is that the washing machines he's seen must only be for show. But the intense manual labor involved in washing laundry by hand, carried out by a woman? Completely unremarkable. Women are there to do laundry; laundry is done by women, whether they do it with machines or by hand. It's not manual labor, it's just women's work.

Maybe this isn't Delisle's conscious belief. But it is an aspect of the cultural lens with which he views the cities he visits, and when something less appalling than a totally closed totalitarian state in his focus, the flaws of that lens are harder to ignore).


Hornschemeier, Paul: The Three Paradoxes
(reminded me a bit of Ice Haven.).



Manga:

CLAMP: RG Veda vol. 1.

Hidaka Yoshiki, story, Tsugihara Ryuji, art: The First President of Japan vol. 2
(talk about your fantasies of political agency, huh).

Mizushiro Setona: After School Nightmare vol. 5.

September 2012

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