A week ago today I voted in the UK General Election. I voted because I didn’t vote in 2010 and the next day I immediately regretted it. For some reason I believed the outcome would be different if I had my say. Last Friday I learned I was wrong. I couldn’t believe it. After scanning multiple articles published by numerous media organisations, it finally started to sink in that the Conservatives had won. Once the shock wore off, fear set in. A Conservative (Americans, read: Republican) government sans the Liberal Democrats was going to be a bloodbath for those receiving benefits, whether healthy or disabled. £12bn of welfare cuts are going to be made, but no one knows who’s going to be hit.
Pink has never been my favourite colour, even as a child. But somehow my home is slowly turning Old Rose, Rasperry Bellini, Cherry Lush and Flash Bulb Fuschia. I’ve been redecorating because I can no long stand the sight of the UK’s favourite paint colour, Magnolia. And in my quest for warm and inviting without being too dark, pink has fit that bill, over and over.
No jokes here, I promise.
Here’s what I posted in March:
- Authors: Business vs Personhood?
- Lost Without A Challenge
- The Non-fiction ‘Graphic Novel’ – is there a better term?
Flotsam by David Wiesner
Thank you for reading!
As Chast’s parents aged, she recognised the need to care for them, and she did, until they died. Graphic novel memoir Can’t We Talk about Something More Pleasant? details her uncensored journey with humour and poignancy, examining her changing relationships with them along the way.
An erudite, self-aware feminist memoir, in graphic novel form, examining a lesbian’s childhood relationship with her parents – especially her closeted gay father. Fun Home is chock full of psychoanalysis, literary criticism and commentary on gender, sexuality and suicide. You may recognise the author’s name from her Bechdel Test, which ‘asks if a work of fiction features at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man’ to indicate gender bias (Wikipedia).
Life has changed down a gear and, as a result, I feel lost. Ever feel like that? Since my niece was born in February I pretty much fell off the internet. Life became slower. Suddenly there weren’t dozens of appointments to go to or a pile of paperwork to get through. My mother had finally recovered from her last operation of many. Mental rehabilitation and mild physical monitoring is all that’s required, which is amazing. My mother is the most stable physically and mentally than she has been in years.
Other than the seriously offensive smell of Hyperbole and Half‘s pages (I think it’s all that colourful ink) and that odd yellow triangle on the top of Brosh’s cartoon head (what is that, anyway? A hat, a blonde ponytail?), this is a self-aware blog-to-book memoir describing some of the absurdities and poignancy of everyday life.
Flotsam, my first wordless picture book, feels age inappropriate. From what I gather picture books are generally aimed at 3 to 8-year-olds. I have doubts a child in that range would be able to fully comprehend the story without help from an elder. Does a 6-year-old know what a microscope is and what it’s used for? Will they understand the images shown at different magnifications? A few Goodreads reviews say that it doesn’t matter if a child understands or not, they might make up their own story.