Blankets

I just read an amazing book. Well, it was two days ago, actually. My friend David handed me an extremely heavy birthday present, artfully wrapped in newspaper. What did I behold when I peeled back this lovely exterior?  A big, beautiful book called Blankets, by Craig Thompson. But here's the extraordinary thing about it (for me, anyway):

Blankets is a graphic novel.

And by graphic novel, I mean graphic novel. Hard-core readers of such books (I'll call them the pictorially literate) argue that much of their preferred literature falls under the 'graphic novel' banner. I am not one of them, and consequently, I can't get it out of my head that to be a true graphic novel, a book needs some form of novel-esque gravitas, some sort of truly adult theme. In this respect, Blankets is what I think of as a true graphic novel. It confronts some extremely difficult and disturbing themes, including molestation and little children getting the hope bled out of them. That said, it is one of the most sincere, touching pieces of literature I've read recently, illustrated or not. If one is, as I am, a graphic novel skeptic (though Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis also blew me away), this book will change that. It's mostly a story of the author's first love, and somehow he captures that teenage giddiness and anguish perfectly. So perfectly, in fact, that I felt I was reading a strange, rehashed version of my high school romance.

I don't do this book justice. But something this powerful in exquisite illustrations...it's a rare treat for a prose junkie like myself.

Birthday was excellent. Aside from excellent reading, I devoured some of the best apple pie I've ever eaten, and spent the day (off of work--yay!) in the company of good friends. C'est la vie, et la vie c'est bon!