Darkroom

First of all, I apologize for my lateness. I read Darkroom last week, but had a packed day yesterday and also a busy morning and afternoon today, and never got a chance to post.

Wow. This book is seriously impressive. The drawings are so skillful, that I found myself lingering on every single one. In fact, it took me the longest to read this book out of any of the others we've read thus far in the semester for that reason. Quintero Weaver has incredible range, as well- from cartoon renderings to realistic portraits, and her ability to incorporate filmic techniques in her crafting of the book, Quintero Weaver's talent is superlative. She engages the reader by setting up each scene with a long, overview shot that establishes the scene. Then she shows a conversation between two people, and zooms in, or pinpoints something. This is a filmic technique that draws the viewer in by first providing the scene with universal appeal and then moving in closer and allowing the viewer to see the situation in a more intimate way. This is a huge reason why graphic narrative is so relevant- because it incorporates aspects of film and literature and produces something entirely new.

One thing that I would really like to discuss about this book is the importance of education, and the ways in which education both stimulates and has the potential for distortion. Lila's father places a lot of importance on education as someone who taught himself to read and who now has a family with access to education. He is skeptical of "American educational methods." According to Lila's father, teachers in Alabama were more concerned with crafts than with actual learning: "They softballed tough subjects. They relied on gimmicks rather than books. And as far as he was concerned, there were far too many: class parties, costume pageants, salt and flour maps and other bogus projects. School in the United States was too easy!" (120-121) Some of the images that accompany the text here are of Lila stuffing a card that reads, "Be mine" into an envelope, signifying a very American, very Hallmark tradition, Lila wearing a bonnet (likely for a Thanksgiving Day pageant in which she plays a pilgrim, that conveniently leaves out the part of the story where Native Americans were massacred and sent to reservations,) and a traditional, hearty American breakfast. We as readers understand this gimmicky side of education in the American South (though I don't want to limit this criticism to just the American South or just this time period, because admittedly I was involved in one of those Thanksgiving plays in grade school, and so were most of my friends) most clearly when Quintero Weaver gives us an excerpt of "Know Alabama," her fourth grade history textbook, and it is appalling. This example of how propaganda is integrated into history lessons is so warped that it doesn't seems real. "Know Alabama," with its representations of contented slaves, generous plantation owners, and Southern hospitality doesn't attempt historical accuracy in the slightest; instead, pro-Confederacy propaganda comprised of entirely imagined conversations passes for educational. Quintero Weaver employs this fake "historical" account in order to preface her attempt to set the record straight. In this context, Darkroom becomes, in part, a historical counter to "Know Alabama," that involves specific moments in time, namely the death of Jimmie Lee Jackson in February of 1965, which led to the Selma-Montgomery March.

In summation, here are three words to describe how this graphic memoir made me feel: immersed, moved, and educated.