Mary M. Talbot

Although the graphic novel format of ‘The Red Virgin’ looked lovely, it really whetted my appetite for a more in-depth biography of Louise Michel. [b:The Women Incendiaries|701743|The Women Incendiaries|Edith Thomas|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1354902967s/701743.jpg|688043] (which I recommend very highly) included a fair bit about her role in the Paris Commune, but not much about her subsequent life. Whereas, somewhat to my surprise, I found this book situated the fall of the show more Commune on page 66, so that plenty of time was also given to Michel’s life in exile and return to Europe. The art was distinctive and vivid, in part because the only colour used was red and that sparingly. I found the pages depicting Michel's funeral especially moving. I liked the inclusion of Charlotte Perkins Gilman, the feminist pioneer known for [b:The Yellow Wallpaper and Other Stories|99300|The Yellow Wallpaper and Other Stories|Charlotte Perkins Gilman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1327909237s/99300.jpg|1467808]. (I also appreciated that Perkins Gilman’s racism was not glossed over.) The discussions of utopian literature were great, although I would have liked more focus on the debates about practical policy that took place during the brief existence of the Commune. There wasn’t much of a sense of continuity between the Commune as an attempt at utopian government and subsequent utopian writing. Perhaps this was deliberate?

The annotations at the end included some fascinating facts and references. While I’d known that Victor Hugo spoke up in defence of the Communards, and Louise Michel specifically, during their trials, I hadn’t realised the two were correspondents. Better still, Michel apparently signed her letters to Hugo as Enjolras, angelic leader of the barricade uprising in [b:Les Misérables|24280|Les Misérables|Victor Hugo|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1411852091s/24280.jpg|3208463]! I also learned that she treated her sentence of transportation as an opportunity for a scientific expedition, which is deeply impressive. Whilst in New Caledonia, she tried to defend and support the native people, then continued to agitate once the Communards were pardoned and she was allowed home. In short, Louise Michel is an incredibly inspiring historical figure and I really enjoyed this beautifully presented account of her life and work. show less

91/2021. Dotter of her Father's Eyes by Mary M. Talbot (author) and Bryan Talbot (illustrator), is an autobiography and biography in comics form ("graphic") revolving around Mary's relationship with her father, a scholar focussed on author James Joyce, interwoven with a biography of Lucia Joyce and her relationship with her father. It sounds complicated but the differing art separates the three time periods covered, cleverly using full colour for Mary's adult life, sepia with coloured show more highlights for her childhood, and black & white for Lucia's history. The point of these comparisons, if there is one beyond auto/biography, is that a restrictive father had far more power over his daughter when society was more restrictive of women, and that even an ambitious father's plans can be frustrated by his support for a restrictive society or religion. So Lucia's creativity and professional outlets were thwarted and she ended her life in an insane asylum, while Mary's father's ambition for her to take a degree at a Cambridge college is subtly implied to have been thwarted by his religion's refusal to accept contraception but Mary was lucky enough to have further educational and professional opportunities later in her life. There are, however, also more lighthearted moments as people's real lives are mixed blessings not simplistic moral lessons.

Winner of the 2012 Costa Book Award for Biography. A formidable achievement for a comic!

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Mary: "Claims about men being unable to express emotions irritate me no end. My father did anger very well." show less

http://nwhyte.livejournal.com/2499751.html

Following up from the Talbots' brilliant biography of Lucia Joyce, this excellent graphic story takes a close look at the suffragette movement, through the person of Sally Heathcote, a red-haired Northern girl who moves to London and becomes a core activist, imprisoned and force-fed through a hunger srike, growing up quickly in brutal political circumstances. Dangerfield brings in the suffragettes as just one of the destabilising factors for the show more Asquith government in The Strange Death of Liberal England; I hadn't realised just how strong the commitment to political violence was from an early stage, much more so than the Irish activists of either side at that particular time; nor was I aware of the full brutality of the British state's reaction to those who only wanted an equal say in its governance. Talbot tells a compelling story, but is also transparent about where she has egged the pudding; I knew so little about the period that I turned to the endnotes with some excitement to find out if Sally Heathcote was a real historical figure or not. (And I usually hate endnotes with a deep deep loathing.) The last line, delivered to a dying Sally in 1969 by her granddaughter, is a real emotional kicker. Strongly recommended. show less

I’ll admit that at the beginning of this graphic novel, I wasn’t sure if I was going to be blown away. However, by the time I reached the end I could not stop thinking about it! Being a graphic novel, I was able to finish this in one sitting and in such a short time I’m still haunted by the last few pages and the story that unfolded about women’s suffrage in England at the turn of the twentieth century. Sally Heathcote Suffragette accounts actual events and the majority of the show more characters were real people so it read more like a historical account than a historical fiction. I highly recommend this graphic novel to anyone interested in history and women’s rights, especially if you are a young lady who has recently become of voting age.

Personally, this graphic novel made me so appreciative that I live in a time where I don’t have to worry about having rights and representation. Without question, I am lucky enough to live in a country where I have not felt disadvantaged or oppressed as a woman, and I owe it all to women like the ones we find in this graphic novel. They fought for us, were imprisoned for us, and died for us so we could have the right to vote and the right to be recognized as human beings equal to our male counterparts. I have this novel to thank for allowing me to appreciate how extreme the struggle truly was for women at the beginning of the twentieth century.

The reason I knocked off half a teacup is because, as I said at the beginning of this review, it didn’t grab me right away. The art style is interesting, but I found that a lot of the characters looked the same and there were a lot that I got mixed up. It was also a little jumpy in places so it was a tiny bit hard to follow for me at the beginning. It was definitely one of those reads that I didn’t realize I loved until I read the last line and closed the book. THAT LAST LINE. It hit me so hard I tossed and turned all night thinking about it. It will definitely stay with me for a long time.

As far as graphic novels go, this one is certainly a gem, particularly if you like historical or biographical graphic novels, or if you are passionate about women’s rights. All women should remember the work that our ancestors have done for us to give us the privileged lives we live today, and should realize that women had it much worse than some could imagine. We now have the vote, we now have a voice, and we have rights, all thanks to our ladies of yesterday. And you can read all about these courageous women in this wonderful graphic novel! show less