Authentic, Special Exits

While I fully understand this is not a blog assignment about whether or not we “liked” something or not, I have to say that Special Exits is my favorite thus far. To me, it seemed the most authentic and able to capture the realities of a situation like caring for elderly parents/grandparents. I absolutely felt it truly embodied the experience. Although it may have been a personal memoir (of Joyce Farmer perhaps), the situation is universal enough to touch so many people. Anyone who has cared for older family members or loved ones I am sure could, to some extent relate to this memoir. Joyce Farmer does a wonderful job with, as I like to say, “keeping it real”.

So just a little background, my husband had to wait for a friend of mine to come to the UC Berkeley library to check out Special Exits for me. While he waited, he decided to read it. He had no idea what it was about of course, but as he read it, he said he had to pull back a few times, was moved to tears, and just related to it 100%. He has had to care for his grandparents and his father in their old age. All three have since passed but he had been so moved by this text. There are many moments he could relate to and it reminded him, on many occasions, of the painful times he experienced with his ailing, aging and sometimes stubborn family members. Little did my husband know that when he married me, he would again have to care for another ailing family member. I now live with my own father. Though he is not in a stage as severe as Lars and Rachel, there is however, a sense that we are “looking after” him. He is 77.

Given that background knowledge, you can probably guess why this memoir is one of my favorites so far. I could relate to it, much like I did with Mother’s Urn, on so many levels. More so than anything, these two graphic “memoirs” seem to articulate a pain through various mediums that I never have considered. Yes, I have shared my painful life experiences through poetry, prose, etc. but never have I thought to share them in combination with illustration (or simply in the graphic novel format). So this alone has been an amazing, eye-opening experience for me. Perhaps I shall create a graphic memoir!

Let me start first with some things I didn’t feel contributed to the “well-being” of the text. In other words, I felt stifled by these things when deriving meaning for the memoir. I think that, although Joyce Farmer is a cartoonist, some of her illustrations bothered me. For the most part her illustrations conveyed what can be assumed to be the appropriate sentiment or feeling but there are times when I felt confused by her illustrations. For example, on page 55, the very top panel to the left, Laura’s face looks like she is “pissed off” or even offended at the fact that her father would offer her money for coming to visit, yet in the very next panels she is hugging him for it. I wondered which is it? Or is it simply a misrepresentation of facial expression? On page 54, in what would be the 6^th panel, what is Laura’s facial expressions trying to convey here? Again, on page 71 I am a bit confused about what the facial expressions of Laura are trying to convey. In the 5^th panel she looks like she is again, “pissed off”. Ready to yell at her step mother or just angry with her. It doesn’t help that her stepmother is beneath her and looks like she’s cowering. Yet, in the next 3 panels we find out that that is in fact not the case, but I moment of bonding and filled with empathy. I am not sure as to why she chose to use such harsh facial expressions. I know that what is trying to be conveyed here is the anger at the situation but in fact, it made me feel confused as to whether Laura was upset at her stepmother for being upset about the fact that her father left her dead mother’s clothes in the closet, or whether she was appalled with her father for making Rachel go through that. Upon first glance, I thought it was the former.

As I have previously stated, I felt the memoir, as a whole was extremely authentic. Farmer does this very wisely through the situations she chooses to cover throughout Special Exits. I felt that there was meaning, a plot line, a point. In many ways I felt like it was in stark contrast to something like say, Lucky. Perhaps it is so embedded in my brain to enjoy reading that follows this more traditional path, but it just flows for me. I want meaning, I want a point, otherwise I feel like it’s a waste of time and this memoir was certainly no waste of time. Everything from the slow deterioration of her (step)parents, to the experience with the rest home, to the ever increasing visits, to the parents feelings about what to say and not tell Laura, to the refusing to move or see doctors, all of this just felt so real to me. Perhaps because my husband and I have both experienced it. I could see parts of my father and my father-in-law, very much so. It is of course painful, but a narrative that must be spoken, especially because of the kind of United States we live in today.

A situation in the memoir that I felt was best played out through illustration is that of when Laura has to bathe/wash her stepmother. At the beginning, there is some form of modest present. The viewers and perhaps even Laura can see parts of Rachel such as her back, legs, etc. Yet, as time progresses, and as Rachel’s mind seems to be less and less self aware, we begin to see how this modesty flies out the window. We begin to see parts of Rachel’s breast and eventually, in the most poignant and telling moment, on page 132, we see how dire the situation has gotten. On panel 4 Rachel is holding up her breast, with an awkward smile on her face. It is clear that her once sharp mind has become a thing of the past. She is almost lucid, brought to a child-like state and this of course, is the last scene we see of Rachel before she goes to the doctor and moves to the rest home.

Overall, and I am sure that others would disagree, but I feel that Joyce Farmer captures this stage of life so beautifully throughout this memoir. Each panel, each chapter, each situation adds to the meaning of the story, the building of the plot line, the loving of the characters. For the most part her illustrations work to build that meaning without traditional words, as found in a traditional memoir. Her portrayal of both her own and her parents emotion, anxiety, guilt, love, respect, peace, sharing of history, life experience are done so honestly and from what I can tell without censoring (and I suppose that does sometimes include racism) but it was nonetheless authentic to herself and to her late parents. Bravo!

Holy Acid Trip!!

First, I would like to thank Darin so much for allowing me to borrow a copy of his Mother’s Urn. Thank you Darin! (My copy STILL hasn’t come… ridiculous!).

Anyhow, before I had grabbed the book from Darin, I did a little research and tried to find an electronic copy of the text, to no avail. I did however find a few preview pages available online so I knew I’d be dealing with a complex text. When I picked up the book from Darin, he gave me a great piece of advice, and something I had read about other’s doing; he told me to first read it through with a focus on either the text or the illustrations and to “not get sucked into the drawings”. Oh my am I glad that I heeded his advice! If these illustrations themselves could be found in a museum, I’d be the person to try and “understand” them by gazing and analyzing them for hours. To pair them up with text was simply overwhelming for me. I wondering if many others felt that way also. I had to first, read the text, which was complicated already and said so much, even down to the word movement, text and color, then go back and look at the illustrations in depth, then go back a third time to finally work my mind to put the two together. I can say with certainty I truly do not understand the illustrations entirely. There is simply too much to see in some of them and many, many intricacies and complexities. I am hoping to grasp a further understand through dialogue in class.

If I had to summarize this memoir into one word it would be, “heavy”. It’s heavy both in it’s content, the subject, in the illustrations, through the usage of black, even the pages themselves. It just seems all around heavy to me. What I noted first were the black pages. Black pages, black pages? I don’t know how others took this but I immediately felt the emptiness, without, cryptic, gothic, dark feelings that this choice conveys to its readers. Perhaps others have another take on it but I felt that even the illustrations made me feel this way as well. It’s as if to say, the text made me feel sad, so did the illustrations and the black pages. It all worked together in conveying a sense of sadness, loss perhaps, darkness and heaviness. I felt her pain, 100% as I experienced the text in its entirety.

A few things that stuck out to me were the bloody noses on both page 10 and 13, without saying (although she does at a later time on page 14) I knew instantly that this represented both the beatings and implied the use of drugs, cocaine more specifically. This inclusion of drugs within the illustrations is found throughout the text over and over again with the blue little “v” pills (pages 14-17, 21-22, 26, and 32) for someone who comes from a household were drug abuse was prevalent, I can see how hard it would be to not include this in almost all of the illustrations, especially in a memoir-type book. It’s as if to say, it was everywhere, everyday, it influenced everything you saw, it explained so much and it was just all around ever-present in both her mothers life and thus in hers. Drug abuse.

Another illustration that I just found remarkably clever was that found on page 32. The illustration reminded me of the words found on page 5 where Kalamity J states she is a ”carbon cop[y]” of her mother and how the children were so apart, so from their mother. This illustration truly displays this sentiment. I hope that you all saw that there are two children in the illustration but the older child’s head is connected and forms out of what can presumed to be their mother’s head. I loved this! You can also see her digesting the valiums. It said so much to me and as I have previously stated, all around the illustrations were so heavy with meaning and also pain. This was one that conveyed that meaning to me clearly, among many others. The only glimmers of hope or at least connectedness I found was in the relationship between herself and her brother, which again is also displayed in the illustration on page 32. Even though this relationship is described in such a manner, the illustrations that display them together still express emotions of solitude and loneliness.

This memoir in general was simply very painful, heavy and complex for me on a variety of levels, not only because of the very intricate illustrations but also because the story seems so very close to my own. It expressed a beautiful pain, as I like to call it.

Help!!

Does anybody have a copy of Mother's Urn that I can borrow?! My copy was supposed to be delivered yesterday but no luck. I can pick up anywhere in Oakland, anytime. Maybe someone has a scanner and would be willing to scan the books pages and send them to me via email? Let me know. Thanks!! Text or call at 510-213-5808 or email me at audra.casanova@gmail.com

Thanks lovelies!

Are You My Mother?

Hi All,

I apologize for my late blog but yesterday I was suffering from a terrible, debilitating migraine. I don’t know if any of you have ever had one of these but basically they suck and for me at least, it’s rare that any amount of medicine helps. All I can do it try and sleep with the lights out and in total silence (which is near to impossible with two kids lol). Well, anyway, here is my blog for this week. Thank you for your understanding.

I don’t expect that many of you know this but I am a librarian at my daughter’s school and Are You My Mother? happened to land on the week that we celebrate Dr. Seuss’ birthday (it’s March 2^nd). After reading to 14 classes things like The Sneetches, The Lorax and Horton Hears a Who it was incredibly difficult to not make the comparison, constantly. I started this book wondering if she was ever going to make a connection to the title with the Dr. Seuss book, Are you my Mother? Although she never explicitly makes this connection, she does however provide the reader with insight into perhaps the thinking of how this title came about. On pages 132-133 Bechdel provides the reader with a double page, full spread display of the analysis of how her memories of reading Dr. Seuss’ Sleep Book has crept back into her daily life. She provides example of  “plexiglass dome” term to explain her mother and the incessant daily recording to show how it not only influenced her as a child, but now also as an adult. In many ways, Bechdel has now provided us with a bridge to understanding why she titled the book as she did. Perhaps it is simply a childhood memory of a book that she either so closely identified with or is now simply influencing her in her adult years.

In addition to the title, I found it incredibly difficult not to connect some of Bechdel’s illustrations throughout Are You My Mother? to some of Dr. Seuss’ own illustrations. For example, the color usage within the illustration is very similar to that found in Horton Hears a Who (and many others). In both of these books, tones of just black and white are used along with a singular “other color”. In Are You My Mother? this color is red. Within Horton Hears a Who this color is blue. So, as you can tell it was very difficult for me not to make these sorts of connections. I think she did this for two possible reasons. First, if she did this in a sort of unconscious way, it would further support her given argument throughout the book surrounding the influences of childhood, repression and such. It displays how her childhood experiences influence her still as a middle-aged adult. Second, if she did this as a conscious choice, it would simply allow for her to display, with one title, how a childhood book influenced her and spoke to her both as a child and as an adult. For anyone who has read the Dr. Seuss version of Are you my Mother? they would be able to immediately understand perhaps the emptiness or feelings of constantly searching that Bechdel had towards her mother.

Things that I had difficulty with or questions about include the following: First, why the decision to start every chapter with a dream? Not only just a dream, but also with the blackout pages. Why? At first I thought simply that the blacked out pages were a way for her to indicate, as she does with the use of squiggly dialogue bubbles, a difference in the text or the source of information. In this case, it would be simply to indicate that she is dreaming. But as I read on, I realized that to some extent this was not the case because she also ends every chapter with the black pages. When she ends the chapter with the black pages it does not appear that she is dreaming. There are also times when she is dreaming throughout a chapter and she again utilizes the black pages. It made me think and perhaps I can get some fresh perspective on it in class. Second, I had such a hard time following all the juxtaposition of the psychology and psychoanalytical jargon, references, etc. I felt almost put off by it, as if I oddly felt that this sort of thing had no space in a narrative. It was something that I had rarely felt, though I have rarely encountered this “type” of narrative or novel. I understand that it has a place in Bechdel’s life but why so much? It almost reminded me of a sort of stream of consciousness thing where while she wrote this memoir and staying true to her train of thought she makes constant connections to Woolf, Freud, etc. It was somewhat hard to follow and really make those connections, at least for me. In addition to this, I had difficultly following her non-linear sections of the book. Overall, the memoir seemed somewhat linear but she went back and forth, in dreams, to her childhood, recalling memories in therapy, etc. I found this a bit confusing and wondering why she chose to make these sorts of decisions. Perhaps, as I said before she wanted to stick to a sort of stream of consciousness type of feel throughout the book and felt it stayed true to her memory and train of thought. I can appreciate that, though as I said, I found myself backtracking a few times just to understand where I was at “in the story”.

But You Did...

 A previous post had mentioned the downward slope of the lines in this short memoir and I am so glad that they did because I was without explanation for why this piece made me feel so sad and weary. It’s almost like when you watch a Tim Burton feel you know you’re going to feel creepy, dark and perhaps as if you just came off an acid trip. This memoir definitely uses line to create the tone. Everything seems sad and droopy throughout the panels. Even some of the text appears to be down. One thing that is great about this feature, I believe is that it really allows for the illustrator to capture movement. All the illustrations where it would be safe to assume that there is some sort of movement taking place, the line choice and apparently the stroke, allows for movement to be properly captured. For example, throughout the depictions of fields and the blades of dried grass, I can see the movement, I can see the wind pushing those blades of grass and it’s pretty amazing for the illustrator to be able to do this.

One thing I question in regard to line choice is whether it was intended to make the viewer/reader feel so down and somewhat empty. I feel that perhaps that is the way Lucy feels and is depicted throughout this short memoir. If the intention was to impress some of that emotion on the reader through this choice, I can definitely say it was successful. I felt her emptiness, her loneliness.

I thought it rather creative and superb that the author was able to create her own panels. It was the author/illustrators ultimate decision to create the space in which the events took place. There are times when there are no panels and I enjoyed that variation. There are also times when dialogue or pictures bleed into other panels or the gutter and again, I though it was very ingenious of the author to be able to take this kind of control of the story and space. She also takes this kind of vivid control when she places the “But I Can’t” 7 or so panels in. She is ultimately controlling when the story begins. These features definitely place the authors power to the forefront of the readers mind.

Lastly, and along the same lines of the authors executive power of created her own space and panels, or lack there of, I wonder if the way in which the panels are aligned was intended to somewhat confuse the reader about the order in which they should be read. I know that various other graphic memoirs, or depictions take advantage of this benefit and I wonder if that is the case here as well. In other words, was it intentional that there was no real indication of the direction in which the panels should be read? Or perhaps I am just thinking too much into this and it is just assumed that the reader will follow the natural direction of reading, from left to right.

Lucky

Lucky and The Imposters Daughter were very different but somewhat the same. It was very important finding out the Bell is a comic artist and I suppose that contributed some what to her artistic choice. The illustrations, I found, were not as distracting as they were in ID. In ID they were loud, bright, bold and colorful. I found my eyes peeking to look ahead at the illustrations instead of focusing on the text. In Lucky, the illustrations seem to flow a little better with the text. As it was pointed out, there is a “hook”, a sort of insight into Bell’s mind, or an introduction of each panel. Each illustration compliments the text and is very much vital to the survival of the memoir as a whole. This style seemed to help very much with the “flow” of the panels. Lucky #1 had a very natural, diary like flow, almost as if it were panels to an upcoming movie. Although Bell seemed to take a more simplistic approach to her illustrations I found they some how spoke to me more or at least made me feel as if they were more vital to her story.

Perhaps it is simply because I have no one to discuss this with but to be honest, I found myself left with so many questions at the end of this read. Lucky left me feeling unfulfilled and as if there was the lingering question, “What the hell was the point of this? Finding out she has other memoirs helps to ease this pain somehow but the feeling is still nonetheless very similar to my feeling at the end of the Lord of the Rings: “Really?”... No closure, just lingering hopes for the future. Damn this! I am interested to hear everyone’s opinions about why she chose to chunk the texts as she did. I also wonder about her choice to change from 4 illustrations to 6 from Lucky #1-2. I am also left a little bothered as to why she chose not to date the rest of the “chapters” and why she didn’t provide us with the little “hook” at the top of each illustration after Lucky #1. Why?!

Finding out that she lost the notebook that held Lucky #2 assists me slightly in my search for some of these answers but the truth is they are only guesses. Did she choose not to date Lucky #2 because she couldn’t remember them and that would be dishonest (not a true memoir)? Was she just over the process by the time she got around to re-writing and illustrating #2? Did something in her life change so drastically as to change the direction she chose to go in Lucky #2 in regards to her paneling and inclusions of the “hook”? Perhaps it is the change in environment, the constant moving around, having no real “home” that contributes to this difference between Lucky #1 and #2. Did she feel she needed more stability and routine when it came to the construction of #1 because of this? Whatever caused the change between Lucky #1 and 2 I am sure that it was in no way arbitrary but either way, I need answers!

Both Lucky and The Imposters Daughter seemed to include, as Maus does, the “process” of making these graphic novels. For Maus, I suppose it is a little different because it’s a memoir about somebody else’s memoir but Speigelman does include a so-to-speak, “view under Oz’s curtain” in that he talks about the interviews and the thought process he followed when composing his father’s memoir. The same goes for ID and Lucky. Both authors make reference to the interviews, thought process, decision making, the lose of previous drafts, etc. that contribute to a somewhat surreal experience as a reader; A sort of story within a story within a story, the creator referencing the creation he created within that creation. Complicated, I know. It’s kind of like a picture recording the video camera that’s recording the lives of others as we see on the cover of Lucky. Ok, now I’ve surely confused you all, myself included.

I also noticed quite a bit of shading, blackening of various void spaces throughout a chunk of the novel. This blackening begins on page 55 and ends on page 87. Why? For me, and I may be taking this way too metaphorical, but these times in her life seems to be a little “darker” than her usual days. The selling of her book went awry, and she eventually began working under someone and doing things for them she did not find ethically moral. She seemed uncomfortable with herself and I think the panels reflect that. But again, I would be interested to hear what others have to say about this. Basically, I have lots of questions and can’t wait to hopefully get some of them answered through discussion.

The Impostor’s Daughter 

The cover of The Impostor's Daughter could not have been chosen any better. Her sentiments and experience (as well as her sentiments regarding her experiences) are very much summarized by this cover of the book. A woman whom we can surmise is Sandell because she has her same style of hair and she is wearing orange (Sandell is always wearing orange throughout the book, except for when she is naked of course) is holding up a Polaroid of her father. He is cloaked with his military garb and she holds this in front of her face. On the Polaroid it says, “ A (insert carrot) true memoir. Now why the need to insert that “True” part or hold the Polaroid in front of your face so that it hides it? Many of these answers can be found through a careful analysis of her memoir.

The Impostor's Daughter is very much a coming of age memoir. It follows Sandell from her early memories as a child until what we can assume is present day-ish. Sandell’s transformation into womanhood is shaped and characterized by her relationship with her father. In simplistic terms, she begins as a young girl, clinging to and believing in every word her father utters, to a more self-assured, confident woman who unfortunately has learned that very little truth surrounds her father and his life as a whole. Her life and growth was of course riddled with sexual experimentation (and perhaps liberation), career lows and highs, an Ambien addiction, rehab and ups and downs within a relationship. As Sandell seems to “come to grips” with the lies surrounding her father, her journey is marked by conflict and struggles. Yet, as time goes on and she lets go of some of her guilt for anonymously writing a tell-all about her father and when she begins to accept that she may never hear the truth from either of her parents, her life takes a healthier turn and it appears she becomes more at peace with herself, her life, her family and her relationship.

So how does this all relate to the cover? Well, it’s everything! First, as I stated in the previous paragraph, Sandell’s life, development and growth is utterly influence and at times defined by her relationship, or lack thereof with her father. Many of Sandell’s coping and skills when interacting with people (whether positive or negative) are attributed to her father; Furthermore, in many of her interviews with celebrities, such as on page 108, she talks about how her father’s story was becoming her story. Although she is not her father, she seems to feel and live as if his story shadows her own, thus her face behind his picture on the cover. She is in someway shadowed by his story and apparent grandiose-ness. Yet on the other hand, his life, characteristics and perhaps just the simple fact that he is her father has all contributed to who she has become (personally and to be honest career-wise). Although she seems to hide behind his photograph, she also seems to be accepting of this contribution: that however it may be, she is in some ways made up of some of him.

The need to insert a carrot and the word, “true” on the Polaroid seems utterly striking to me. Some might say this is a slight dig at her father. To say and insert the word “true” in such an obvious manner sends me as a reader a message that perhaps she inserts this because of the opposition and disbelief she has received from her family and/or critics. Perhaps even still, because it is right below her father she is saying that her story is true, as opposed to the “false” memoir she received from the many interviews and lifetime with her father. Either way, or perhaps even a little of both, this insertion was in no way, shape or form, arbitrarily chosen. She is sending a swift and concise message to all that come across her memoir and it is very much reflective of her overall sentiments regarding her father and his lies.

To conclude, although the cover, the words and illustrations throughout The Impostor's Daughter seem to be simplistic, the truth is very much the opposite. Sandell is very selective and concise with her illustrations and word choice. Her panels, just as her cover does, send a powerful and often complex message. Sometimes words and illustrations are wrought with conflict and contradiction but they somehow contribute to the message as a whole: that her relationship and sentiments regarding her father and her life are not simplistic in any form, rather it can be at times, messy and complicated.