Book 6: Fun Home

Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic

Alison Bechdel

The art of reading and recommending books is difficult; the most lauded books can seem unutterably dull, a critical misfire can be a transformative reading experience, or a work can be important primarily in context, both respective of genre and of publication place and time. Why the obnoxious preamble? Graphic novel novice as I am, I recently re-discovered Fun Home, which had been recommended to me years ago by a professor for reasons I have since forgotten. The book is almost universally lauded by critics as a potent memoir and a poignant example of personal graphic fiction. Nor can I argue with these points. The subtle quasi-blue color palette replicates the haze of memory while providing a grounding sense amidst Bechdel's artwork, which itself tends toward the cartoony side. Despite Bechdel's drawing skill and her easily identifiable (and endearing) characters, however, the illustrations often feel more like illustrations than distinct building blocks on which to base a story. Some enhance the text or provide valuable counterpoint and punctuation to Bechdel's straightforward, powerful prose, but many simply hang listless on the page, seemingly there as a matter of course rather than necessary literary purpose. A number of these, particularly early on, have in-panel labels that could seemingly have been better handled- they usually butt in and distract from the images' internal coherence and their (sometimes already strained) relationship with the script. Bechdel certainly can't be faulted for constructing what is very obviously an intensely personal narrative in her preferred form, but the finished product may not best exemplify the advantages of graphic narrative, despite its importance (as I understand it) within the genre.

What is admirable is the verve with which Bechdel confronted and took control over her own powerful, confusing, and sometimes painful memories. Her use of recurring themes and overlapping, recursive storytelling lend to the feeling that readers are present alongside the author as she relives the memories, though the seeming necessity of implicit knowledge hampers readers' ability to immediately enter the narrative. Though Fun Home may not be the most effective union of illustration and text, Bechdel's work is clearly important in establishing that graphic novels can employ the same rich layers of metaphor and meaning as more widely respected forms of literature. The stories are grouped into thematic, occasionally repetitive, groupings that carry their themes well and related well to one another. With this territory, however, comes the occasional pretension and referential self-congratulation that haunts literary fiction. Well-intended and well-executed metaphors appear throughout the book, but the whole thing goes a bit off the deep end when Bechdel brings in ungainly references to Ulysses throughout the book's final chapter. Literature and myth are focal points throughout the novel, and Bechdel's decision to use the Icarus myth to open and close the story is majestic, but the references to Ulysses are baffling at best and the least flattering kind of pretentious at the worst. Like much of Joyce's writing, the allusions are annoying and impenetrable, intruding in on what is otherwise an intellectual, yet accessible, work. The book, characters, and story are engaging and, at times, as universal as they are deeply personal. There is no question that Bechdel  has bared her soul within its pages, but Fun Home is at times hampered by its own ambitions and over-thinking.

Grade: B

Book 25: A Life of Her Own

A Life of Her Own
Emile Carles

This is the last of Diane's book recommendations. This is a unique piece, an autobiography of a French mountain woman who was born right at the turn of the century. Her life spanned some of the most radical changes the world had ever seen, and her place in France provided a front-row seat to events such as the two world wars. The autobiography at large, however, lacks a focus and a sense of purpose. It finds both within the last two chapters, but this is too late to make the book.

This is not to say that the book isn't interesting. It is a fascinating portrait of French peasant life and some of the changes it underwent throughout the eventful 20th century. Madame Carles is not shy about adressing the changes that she feels still need to take place. Though one is not always sure why she feels the way she does, her voice is always strong and clear in its assertions. I just hoped for a bit more insight on events that made her change her mind. For example, she claims that a single man opened her eyes to the views of anarchists and pacifists that changed her forever, but she never goes into sufficient detail. She leaves it at that, assuming that the reader knows ahead of time exactly what she is talking about.

This kind of jarring discontinuity happens throughout the book, which is in dire need of a semblance of a plot line. I can deal with weird chronology, especially in an autobiography, but there are parts of this book that skipped around with no apparent logic. This only served to confuse me as to what she could possibly be referring to. The book is also quite repetitive in some of its wry observations, which obviously lose their mettle after repetition.

Despite its literary flaws, though, the content of the book can be very eye-opening and interesting at times. Madame Carles sketches a very cynical but very real portrait of the villages of the French Alps and their people. Her love for them shows through and she rarely comes across as patronizing; she truly cares about her people and genuinely wants them to open her eyes. Her career as a teacher also justifies this viewpoint. She looks at the valley as a place caught in time, resistant to change but slowly awakening. Her lack of attention to World War II illustrates how isolated a valley could indeed be even in the midst of such a wide conflict. While the war affected her life, she doesn't overly moralize, simply restating her pacifist beliefs.

The only times the book becomes overbearing are when Madame Carles emphasizes her ideas. When she is just describing events, they tend to speak for themselves wonderfully, conveyed in gripping detail and lively, personal narrative. When she begins to preach, however, I zone out completely and the work becomes slightly annoying. All in all, though, this was an intriguing and different book, a unique view on the world from an exceptional woman that was well worth reading.

Grade: B

Book 20: The Autobiography and Other Writings

The Autobiography and Other Writings
Benjamin Franklin

So I'm a little behind in my reading, having hoped to be halfway through (at 26 books) by this point. It is through no fault of Franklin, however, whose autobiography I began reading at the conclusion of my last book. I will concede, however, that the style of Franklin's writing is somewhat difficult to adjust to, both because of grammar peculiar to the modern eye and because reading Franklin's thoughts about his life is just like sitting there listening to the man. The whole thing is basically an old man rambling on about his life in mostly chronological order.

The thing is, though, that the order of events make sense as each segues into the other very simply as the memories come pouring out of Franklin's pen. There are only a couple instances where the autobiography itself seems disjointed, but this usually occurs after a tangent which has been quite interesting and at least relevant to the material at hand. Throughout the work the author is very conscious that he is painting his legacy for future generations; the entire script is full of helpful maxims and takes on the voice of a teacher eager to pass his infinite wisdom onto his pupils. What makes this tone especially entertaining is Franklin's self-conscious attempts at modesty, which usually fail in the context of his great accomplishments.

Franklin was an everyman of his period: scientist, inventor, public servant, and philosopher for all times. One can excuse his slight pride, especially because he tries so hard to hide it despite himself. His writings, some of which appear as the second half of my copy of the autobiography, are far less awkward in this respect, most often being letters deliberately constructed for the recipients. Franklin cuts right to the chase and gives the reader a good idea of the kind of person he was, and how he felt about the issues at hand. I was surprised to find that Franklin was less consistent than I had imagined, though he acknowledges his fallibilty with grace in most instances. The one exception is the way he treats his wife in her dying days, when he suddenly becomes callous and coarse. This, however, humanizes Franklin and reminds readers that he was not perfect, that he did, indeed, live like any other person.

I would recommend Franklin's autobiography (taken with a grain of salt, of course) to anyone looking for a basic history of the man, as most of his major accomplishments are outlined within. I think that the editor of the volume I read made a good decision in including other writings of the man, and I would highly encourage those seeking a more complete picture of Benjamin Franklin to attempt to read more than just the autobiography.

Grade: A