Salt Bones

 

Salt Bones by Jennifer Givhan (2025), 384 pages

In a border town in California of Latina and Indigenous culture, Mal works to survive raising two children while dealing with the past trauma of her sister going missing. Things come to a head when another young woman disappears and then Mal's own daughter vanishes. Combining elements of Mexican folklore and the very real reality of missing Indigenous girls, Givhan delivers a story of a mother's determination coming face to face with those in power and entitlement. 

I enjoyed this book, but also found it frustrating. And I am not sure why. If you read it, let me know what you think.

A selection of June graphic novels

The Man in the McIntosh Suit by Rina Ayuyang (2023) 212 pages

1929, Bobot is one of many Filipino-Americans working as migrant fruit pickers in rural California. The synopsis on the back cover sells it as a "take on Depression-era noir featuring mistaken identities, speakeasies, and lost love." I never got the feel of noir. It starts a bit like a Steinbeck story. It is about immigrant dreams and whites not being welcoming. Bobot finds Manilatown in San Francisco as he searches for his wife, so most of the characters are Filipino-American. There is mistaken identity, a gangster owned speakeasy, and Bobot's lost love, but none of it developed as expected. Ultimately, that is a good thing. I was willing to go on the story's journey. How and why Bobot was misled into traveling to San Fran, the unexpected queer elements, and the A side and B side of music tracks from the 1920s provided as suggested listening made it an enjoyable read. The art feels like rough sketches and most sections are in a monochrome smudgy blue. I didn't like it at first (I think it is the main thing that doesn't read as noir), but I let my harsh judgment fade. The cover seemed more action packed and looks good with the multi-color scheme, but don't expect that on the inside and some surprises are in store for you.

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen (2020) 256 pages

The art style is so crisp and clear. And the color tells you exactly where you are in the story. Red for present day. Yellow for memories. And Purple for the fairy tale stories. The flow of thoughts, speech, and action on each page is so well done as well. Young Tien helping his parents, his mother in particular, learn English by reading fairy tales together works brilliantly. I appreciated the Author's Note and Between Words and Pictures essay at the end, the experiences of Vietnamese immigrants that are personal to the author and the fairy tales all blend very well. Two variations on a Cinderella tale are each distinct enough and full of surprises. Then a Little Mermaid tale is shared. Meanwhile, Tien is uncertain how to tell his parents that he is gay. His two best friends at school are accepting of who he is. When his parents are still more comfortable speaking Vietnamese and Tien has grown up with English, how do you communicate? The answer could lie in fairy tales!

ODY-C: Cycle One by Matt Fraction with art by Christian Ward (2016) 400 pages

I'll start by writing about the bonus essays at the end. The Kyklos: The Making of ODY-C is a treasure. I really appreciated Dani Colman's multiple essays. Anybody reading the full The Odyssey would also gain a deeper appreciation of Homeric verse, manly tears, the role of wives, the parallels between Penelope and Scheherazade, how storytelling changes lives, narrators, Clytaemnestra, and gender bending. I love that Dani describes the graphic adaptation as "less a gender-bent Odyssey than it is an Odyssey-flavored gender pretzel." ODY-C: Cycle One is kaleidoscopic. It is gruesome. It is X-rated at times. Not so different from The Odyssey. This version takes place in space with aliens and future tech for a twist. Issues 1-5 adapt the first part of Homer's epic poem. Further issues to adapt the rest of The Odyssey were planned at one point, but now almost ten years later a continuation seems unclear. Issues 6-10 will remind most readers of the 1001 Arabian Nights. Then issues 11-12, in a rhyming rap style, retells the story of the play Agamemnon. It is all still about gods and mortals, murder and revenge, sex and revenge, monsters and blood. The art is glorious. There are many two-page spreads that are mind-blowing.

Strange Fruit by J.G. Jones and Mark Waid (2017) 128 pages

Jones' art perfectly captures the Norman Rockwell aesthetic. And in the midst of this historical "Great Mississippi Flood" of 1927 with the KKK active in Chatterlee, Mississippi, a Superman arrives from outer space. This Superman is black and doesn't arrive as a baby. There are many racist slurs that the whites aim at the blacks. The knowledge of a black engineer from up north combined with the strength of the Superman is able to prevent the flooding Mississippi from destroying the whole town. Then, in a newsreel, Herbert Hoover takes credit. This is a solid historical fantasy, but it is only four issues and is over too soon.

Earthdivers, Vol. 1: Kill Columbus by Stephen Graham Jones with art by Davide Gianfelice (2023) 176 pages

I love the concept and will continue with the other volumes in this series. However, there are many moving pieces in the present 2112 and the past 1492 that are not completely clear. Different voices and narration as distinct from all the characters are something Stephen Graham Jones struggles with in this book. Time travel is timey-wimey, of course. It is weird that I would ask for more exposition, but I wish there was more introductory character development and world building. It is a bloody adventure right from the start. I like the talking goat, but there are many fantasy things like that, which come out of left field. So many strange phenomena are stacked on top of each other. Then history or fate is a strong force that resists change, but not really, and yet our hero fails at a larger goal even as he succeeds at the smaller goal. Such a bummer.

Magnolia Flower

 

Magnolia Flower by Zora Neale Hurston, adapted by Ibram X. Kendi, illustrated by Loveis Wise, 40 pages

This is a gorgeous adaptation of the folktale by the beloved Ms. Hurston. National Book Award winner and bestselling author Ibram X. Kendi adapts the tale for young readers, aided by the lush artwork of Loveis Wise. This picture book tells the story of Magnolia Flower, the daughter of an escaped slave and an indigenous woman who fled the Trail of Tears. After the Civil War, a man of letters comes to their community, and Magnolia falls in love with him. However, her father does not approve and so the couple run away, only to return many years later.

What is unique about this tale is that it is told by the River that Magnolia grew up around. It is a tale of love and resilience, and the connection between the land and the people. It also shows the connection between Black and Indigenous people--how some of them were able to build community together, in spite of the United States trying to destroy and subjugate them. And the illustrations! This book is large, and I was so glad because the pictures needed that space. The art bursts with life and color, and I think children will want to stare at them for hours. Highly recommended for all ages!

Not a Nation of Immigrants

Not a Nation of Immigrants: Settler Colonialism, White Supremacy, and a History of Erasure and Exclusion by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz (2021) 400 pages

This book appeared on my radar after reading an article based on a speech given by the author Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz. The subtitle is very clear about the themes in this well-researched book. "'A nation of immigrants' was a mid-twentieth-century revisionist origin story." Each of the eight chapters are so packed with historical detail and critiques of interpretations of that history that are problematic that it feels as if you are reading eight different non-fiction books connected to the theme of correcting this revisionist origin story of America. We explore a critique of the popular musical Hamilton, the genesis of settler colonialism, the racial capitalism of slavery, the continental imperialism of manifest destiny, Irish settlers and policing, the efforts of Americanizing Columbus, the Western panic against Asian immigrants, and the history of aggression against Mexico. She wraps it up by discussing how actual refugees and immigrants are treated in our settler state, a place where white supremacy still holds a strong grip. It is a call for a more honest understanding of our American history.
 

Nobody Cries at Bingo by Dawn Dumont

 

Nobody Cries at Bingo by Dawn Dumont. 298 pp.

Dawn Dumont grew up on the Okanese First Nation reserve in Saskatchewan, and her life might be somewhat reminiscent of other native experiences that have been put to paper--struggles with drinking, addiction, the trauma of residential schooling--but you probably haven't read anything so consistently funny that also happens to include the aforementioned subject matter. Dumont's experiences might be specific to her identity, but the voice of her childhood feels so universal. Being sassy, knowing all the answers even when you don't, the inability to resist curiosity even when you know the outcome will be terrible. Nobody Cries at Bingo is told in a series of vignettes with Dawn's older, wiser, it's-funny-in-hindsight voice narrating the trials and tribulations of a very serious rez girl. For all the humor that comes up in books, I don't always find myself laughing out loud, but this proved an exception. I look forward to reading more of Dumont's work.

Note: This book is listed in several places as young adult. I would argue that it's adult with crossover appeal to young adults. Dumont does not shy away from strong language and mature physical content.