Book-It 'o11! Book #64
The Fifty Books Challenge, year three! (Years one and two, just in case you're curious.) This was a library request.
Title: Forget Sorrow: An Ancestral Tale by Belle Yang
Details: Copyright 2010, W. W. Norton & Company
Synopsis (By Way of Front Flap): "When Belle Yang was forced to take refuge in her parents’ home after an abusive boyfriend began stalking her, her father entertained her with stories of old China. The history she’d ignored while growing up became a source of comfort and inspiration, and narrowed the gap separating her- an independent, Chinese-American woman- from her Old World Chinese parents.
In Forget Sorrow, Yang makes her debut into the graphic form with the story of her father’s family, reunited under the House of Yang in Manchuria during the Second World War and struggling- both together and individually- to weather poverty, famine, and, later, Communist oppression. The parallels between Belle Yang’s journey of self-discovery and the lives and choices of her grandfather, his brothers, and their father (the Patriarch) speak powerfully of the conflicts between generations- and of possibilities for reconciliation.
Forget Sorrow demonstrates the power of storytelling and remembrance, as Belle- in telling this story- finds the strength to honor both her father and herself. "
Why I Wanted to Read It: In my fevered search for more graphic novels from my local library, this was yet another stumble-upon.
How I Liked It: The book shares a lot of similarities with one of my favorite book series Persepolis.
The unfortunate thing is that the similarities aren't generally good ones.
Both are tales of women coming into their own and taking account (and documenting) their ancestry. Both are stories of family under war, revolution, and upheaval. Both are even depicted in similiar "woodcut" style.
But unfortunately, Forget Sorrow lacks the congruity of Persepolis. Belle Yang never quite cements the narrator (herself, mostly) to the reader from the beginning, giving only a brief biography she breezes through forgettably at the beginning, with the biggest take away being that her life and career were thrown off the tracks due to an abusive stalker boyfriend she calls "Rotten Egg" which she tries to forget by delving into her father's history.
Perhaps the biggest misstep Yang makes is in her narration. While Persepolis details family history, it's done through the voice of a single narrator (Marjane Satrapi, the author and main character) throughout. Yang jumps around from both her father's voice and her own, distracting and throwing off the reader from what are otherwise fairly engaging stories that make a whole.
Another graphic novel memoir comes to mind, Maus, which actually did feature dual narration between father and child depicting a history (and also had mention of the book of the artist actually working on the memoir and even showing illustrations to their source). Maus also succeeded since Art Spiegelman, like Marjane Satrapi, was careful to separate his father's voice from his own. Even when the Artie of the story would interrupt his father to elaborate on a point or his father would interrupt himself (generally to nag Artie about something varying degrees of relation to the story at hand), Spiegelman was careful to direct the narrative back to engage the reader. Yang switches back and forth, but she doesn't bother to clearly separate or properly engage the narrative. After the first few confusing "switches", it gets harder and harder to follow which is a shame, since, as I said, the stories we get suggestions of are fascinating, as are the characters. The relationship Yang is working on repairing with her father (who is distrustful of her sanity, dependability, and status as an adult after her relationship with Rotten Egg) is also noteworthy, particularly since it's in telling her father's story (and the story of his family) that they bond and begin to respect one another.
While disappointing for various reasons, it's still hard to write off the memoir entirely. Although the author makes it damn hard to follow, hers is still a story worth trying.
Notable: In every era, from her great-grandfather's house to her own, a striped cat (seemingly the same striped cat) is prominently depicted. Some sort of metaphorical device?
Title: Forget Sorrow: An Ancestral Tale by Belle Yang
Details: Copyright 2010, W. W. Norton & Company
Synopsis (By Way of Front Flap): "When Belle Yang was forced to take refuge in her parents’ home after an abusive boyfriend began stalking her, her father entertained her with stories of old China. The history she’d ignored while growing up became a source of comfort and inspiration, and narrowed the gap separating her- an independent, Chinese-American woman- from her Old World Chinese parents.
In Forget Sorrow, Yang makes her debut into the graphic form with the story of her father’s family, reunited under the House of Yang in Manchuria during the Second World War and struggling- both together and individually- to weather poverty, famine, and, later, Communist oppression. The parallels between Belle Yang’s journey of self-discovery and the lives and choices of her grandfather, his brothers, and their father (the Patriarch) speak powerfully of the conflicts between generations- and of possibilities for reconciliation.
Forget Sorrow demonstrates the power of storytelling and remembrance, as Belle- in telling this story- finds the strength to honor both her father and herself. "
Why I Wanted to Read It: In my fevered search for more graphic novels from my local library, this was yet another stumble-upon.
How I Liked It: The book shares a lot of similarities with one of my favorite book series Persepolis.
The unfortunate thing is that the similarities aren't generally good ones.
Both are tales of women coming into their own and taking account (and documenting) their ancestry. Both are stories of family under war, revolution, and upheaval. Both are even depicted in similiar "woodcut" style.
But unfortunately, Forget Sorrow lacks the congruity of Persepolis. Belle Yang never quite cements the narrator (herself, mostly) to the reader from the beginning, giving only a brief biography she breezes through forgettably at the beginning, with the biggest take away being that her life and career were thrown off the tracks due to an abusive stalker boyfriend she calls "Rotten Egg" which she tries to forget by delving into her father's history.
Perhaps the biggest misstep Yang makes is in her narration. While Persepolis details family history, it's done through the voice of a single narrator (Marjane Satrapi, the author and main character) throughout. Yang jumps around from both her father's voice and her own, distracting and throwing off the reader from what are otherwise fairly engaging stories that make a whole.
Another graphic novel memoir comes to mind, Maus, which actually did feature dual narration between father and child depicting a history (and also had mention of the book of the artist actually working on the memoir and even showing illustrations to their source). Maus also succeeded since Art Spiegelman, like Marjane Satrapi, was careful to separate his father's voice from his own. Even when the Artie of the story would interrupt his father to elaborate on a point or his father would interrupt himself (generally to nag Artie about something varying degrees of relation to the story at hand), Spiegelman was careful to direct the narrative back to engage the reader. Yang switches back and forth, but she doesn't bother to clearly separate or properly engage the narrative. After the first few confusing "switches", it gets harder and harder to follow which is a shame, since, as I said, the stories we get suggestions of are fascinating, as are the characters. The relationship Yang is working on repairing with her father (who is distrustful of her sanity, dependability, and status as an adult after her relationship with Rotten Egg) is also noteworthy, particularly since it's in telling her father's story (and the story of his family) that they bond and begin to respect one another.
While disappointing for various reasons, it's still hard to write off the memoir entirely. Although the author makes it damn hard to follow, hers is still a story worth trying.
Notable: In every era, from her great-grandfather's house to her own, a striped cat (seemingly the same striped cat) is prominently depicted. Some sort of metaphorical device?