Did this really happen?

I’m so into memoir and autobiographical comics, I forget there is such a thing as fiction. I was a bit disappointed to find out it didn’t truly happen this way. It was well written and it seemed real, so I wonder why it matters to me. A good story is a good story, right?

I think that I love memoir, because it frees me from questioning the story. I hate it when characters in a book do stuff that don’t seem to make any sense except that it moves the plot forward. But sometimes real people do crazy things and if they do, I want to know about it. If they do normal things, I also want to know about it. I guess the reason I love true stories is that I’m a peeper.

Here are some autobio graphic novels I’ve read recently.

(Note, I don’t necessarily read the newest books that are out there, just whatever I can get my hands on in this genre.)

The Arab of the Future by Riad Sattouf. There are five books and I’ve read the first two so far. Riad has a French mother and a Syrian father. In the first book he tells the story of his dad kidnapping his little brother. The second one describes an earlier period in his live when he lived in Syria himself, with his little brother and both his parents. He writes about some awful things that happen to him, but from the perspective of the child that he was; without judgement or feeling sorry for himself. It makes it even more heart wrenching.

Birma by Guy Delisle This one covers a year the author spent in Birma with his wife and child. He describes small, day to day things he encounters while he’s there. All those little stories together paint a nuanced picture of the political situation there and what it was like for him to raise a child in that environment. I love his understated style and dry humor.

Today is the Last Day of the Rest of Your Life by Ulli Lust If this book wasn’t autobiographical, I would have tossed it in a corner thinking nobody is dumb enough to do the things she describes. As a seventeen year old, she decides to hitchhike to Italy to spend the summer there, with no money, plan, possessions or the ability to speak Italian. By the end of the book, I was very mad at her for putting herself in the same risky situation over and over again. At the same time, it begs an interesting question: is it ever your fault when people do bad things to you?(I think not, but still, don’t do the things she did.)

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Let’s wrap this up with an autobio comic I made earlier this month.

I’d love to hear from you, do you prefer stories that really happened? And can you tell me why? I’d love to hear from you!

With love,