i'm a very very complex person

So long ago that I don't even remember when it was, I asked for recommendations of graphic novels to check out. I have now finally followed up on some of those recommendations. In the days between Christmas and my birthday, I read both Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi, and One Hundred Demons by Lynda Barry (I have a vague recollection that these two books were recommended by slowlyawake and glazed_glitter, but I could be wrong...) This now brings the total of graphic novels that I've read up to three, and while I'm nowhere near an expert on the form, it's obviously an area where some really cool work is happening. Oddly, all three of the graphic "novels" I've read have actually been graphic memoir--it's sort of funny that there's no distinction in terminology to distinguish between the fictional and non in this form.

Anyhow, the first of the two books that I read was One Hundred Demons. Lynda Barry calls her book "a work of autobifictionalography," thereby perhaps resolving the terminology question mentioned above. The book is a series of short stories, each relating to a demons like "My First Job," "Girlness," and "Dancing," demons that haunted Barry in her childhood and into her adulthood. There's a lot of text to these stories, the art often squeezed into just the bottom third of the panels. But Barry manages to pack a lot into that bottom third--the paintings are colorful and vivid, with an energetic, outsider-ish quality that I find really appealing. Also appealing is Barry's conviction that anyone can make this art. The book has an intro and an outro, both of which encourage readers to pick up a brush and start painting their own demons--I love that.

As much as I enjoyed One Hundred Demons, I think I did the book a disservice by reading it all in one day. The stories are somewhat similar in tone, and reading them all back to back allowed a sameness to creep in. I was also a little disappointed by the way the stories sometimes seemed to wrap up a bit too neatly and easily. I don't think I would have even noticed this as a flaw if it weren't for the fact that at other times Barry digs so fearlessly into the real and painful stuff of her childhood. Next to that, the occasional dollops of wisdom and perspective from Barry's adult self are bound to pale in comparison. Still, there's a lot of really great stuff in this book. My favorite story was dancing, which seems to strike a perfect balance between the personal and the universal, between poignancy and humor--great.

Persepolis could not be more different from One Hundred Demons in terms of art. Where Barry's illustrations nearly pop off the page with energy and life, Satrapi's are restrained, stylized, and black and white. Reading the two books in a row made Persepolis seem very stark at first, but the style grew on me as I read. There are certain images from this book that have lingered with me in the weeks since I read it, like the drawing of the rows of veiled schoolgirls in Tehran forced to line up in their classroom and beat their breasts in mourning for the soldiers killed in the Iran-Iraq war, the girls' round white faces staring out from the black of the background and the black of their veils. Like the art, the story also grew on me as I read. At first I wished for a bit more structure to the narrative, but by the end I was fully immersed in Satrapi's story. And the end of the story is absolutely heartbreaking. I wish that everybody who was reading Reading Lolita in Tehran for a glimpse of life in Iran during the troubled '70s and '80s would read this instead. It's such a compelling portrait of the ways people find to survive their circumstances.

So thank you to Nora and Cynthia, or to whomever else it was that suggested these titles to me--both were excellent and very worth reading.