Echoes of October is built around a simple yet difficult question. The sort of question that children often ask and adults wish they could answer.
Why can’t we just get along?
That question is asked around the world in many ways and many languages. Yet it has taken on a particular vibrancy within the Middle East and especially regarding the Gaza conflict. This is the focal point of Echoes in October, which builds to the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7, 2023.
The story is told through the eyes of four children. All of them are 11 years old, but all of them were born of drastically different circumstances. Jannah is a Muslim girl from Gaza City. Amir is a Druze boy from Daliyat-al-Karmel. Lily is a Canadian Evangelical Christian, born in Toronto but recently relocated to Kibbut Kfar Aza. Eli is a Jewish boy from Tel Aviv. The children do not meet as a group over the course of the novel, though Eli and Amir are cousins. Lily and Jannah also meet briefly, as Lily’s father works as a volunteer driver who escorts Jannah into Israel for medical treatment.
However, despite its setting, Echoes of October plays out as a slice-of-life comic rather than a political thriller. The story remains firmly focused upon the children and their individual issues. This drives home their common ground and makes them more relatable to the young readers for who Echoes of October was written.
Eli, for instance, is worried about his parents talk of moving away from Israel. Their only concern is the safety of their family and what the threat of war may do to Eli. Yet Eli’s biggest fear is moving away from his friends, his school, and everything he knows. This is counterbalanced by the story of Lily, who has already undergone this trauma. She misses her friends in Canada and worries that her dream of being the next Taylor Swift may be short-circuited by moving halfway around the world.
Amir, an aspiring comic creator, has similarly big dreams of creating the first Druze superhero – a Captain America figure modeled on his soldier father. Unfortunately, most of his family have no use for his art and intend to put him to work in their restaurant instead of letting him continue school. Jannah also has issues with her family, for she has dreams of becoming a politician and bringing peace to the region so the people around her can be happy. Unfortunately, the people calling for violence on both sides are so much louder and so many refuse to listen to women, let alone girls.
Echoes of October does not pretend there are any easy answers. It does, however, offer one of the most heartfelt and well-structured introductions to the conflict in Gaza and how there is more than one side involved in the conflict. While the artwork and language used by Ami Adan are simple, they deliver a powerful idea that ultimately boils down to that one big question.
Why can’t we just get along?
Echoes of October is recommended by the author for readers 10 and up. This is a fair rating, as there is no objectionable content to be found here. Doubtless some will object to the idea of a children’s graphic novel that discusses the conflict in Gaza sight unseen. Yet this book is not entirely about that conflict. It is about four young people struggling to cling to some sense of normalcy in an increasingly angry world. That is something that all too many of us can related to in modern times and why I would recommend this graphic novel to readers of all ages rather than just children.
Echoes of October By Ami Adan Self-Published, 2025
Company Age Rating: 10+
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Older Teen (16-18), Teen (13-16), Tween (10-13) Creator Representation: Israeli, Palestinian, Jewish, Muslim, Character Representation: Canadian, Israeli, Palestinian, Jewish, Muslim, Protestant ,
While not the first graphic novel to be written about the atrocities of the Holocaust (and surely not the last), Ginette Kolinka’s Adieu Birkenau approaches the subject with a surprising amount of levity and accessibility. The comic splits its time between the present (well, the present of 2020), in which the 95-year-old Kolinka re-visits the Auschwitz-Birkenau prison camp with a group of students, and the events of the past. Kolinka recounts her early life in France, her large family’s attempt to escape Nazi persecution, and most notably the experience of trying to survive in camp as she was being abused, humiliated, and dehumanized.
Kolinka and her co-writers J.D. Morvan and Victor Matet present her time in the concentration camp with a matter-of-factness that avoids the dramatic, emotionally-wrought approach one might expect of a Holocaust survivor’s story. This comes across less as objectivity and more so like a survivor who has almost curated her memories so as to not be incapacitated by them. Indeed, memories seem to be a major theme of Adieu Birkenau.
It’s difficult to read Adieu Birkenau without viewing it in the context of the great tradition of memoirs that use comics and graphic novels as a way to process extremely traumatizing events, such as They Called Us Enemy, Persepolis, March, and especially Maus. Like those books, Kolinka’s work is deeply concerned with memory, and how it plays a role in processing grief. Kolinka is exceedingly upfront about how her memory is unreliable and that her tendency to block out some of the most horrendous aspects allowed her to survive. This is cleverly conveyed visually, as figures in the camps are often depicted as dark, vaguely human-shaped clouds, as if Kolinka can only remember the slightest impression of them. In the back half of the book, panels often contain scenes from both the past and present, as if to remind the reader that these events long past are still very much alive today.
Artists Cesc and Efa bring a sense of whimsy and warmth to the art that seems more informed by the animation of Disney or Studio Ghibli than most comic illustration. Characters have soft, rounded features, and big, expressive eyes that give the reader an immediate glance into their thoughts and feelings. The playfulness of the line work contrasts greatly, however, with the subtle brown and gray tones that characterize much of the graphic novel and add to the dreariness and despair of recounting life in a prison camp.
Although Adieu Birkenau is recommended for adults, there is very little that would make it inappropriate for younger readers–especially if you’re looking for an accessible way to introduce them to the horrors of the Holocaust. There are brief depictions of nudity in recounting the ways the Nazis forced the prisoners to strip down in the camps, but it’s handled very carefully and clearly used to highlight the sense of embarrassment and dehumanization that Jewish prisoners were subjected to. The most gruesome imagery one might expect to find in a comic written by a Holocaust survivor is also not explicitly shown–which certainly ties into the way that Kolinka repressed the worst aspects of her experience just to survive.
If you like stories that put a human face on big, overwhelming tragedies, like the previously mentioned Maus, then Adieu Birkenau will be right up your alley. Kolinka approaches the subject matter with much more humor than, say, Art Spiegelman, but she doesn’t gloss over the ways that trauma sticks with survivors and how our memory plays an important role in processing such horrors. It is a worthwhile addition to the hugely important genre of comics by creators trying to make sense of real world horrors.
Adieu Birkenau By Ginette Kolinka, Jean-David Morvan, and Victor Matet Art by Ricard Efa and Cesc F. Dalmases SelfMadeHero, 2024 ISBN: 9781914224232
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Older Teen (16-18) Creator Representation: French, Jewish Character Representation: French, Jewish
The Girl Who Sang is a Holocaust survival memoir by Estelle Nadel and illustrator Sammy Savos that tells the former’s story of hiding from the Nazis and eventually fleeing her native Poland.
Born Enia Feld, the author’s story begins in April 1939 in Borek, in southern Poland. Enia is the youngest child in her family. Her older brothers are Shia and Minashe and her older sister is Sonjia. Her family are practicing Jews who farm and are friends with their Gentile (non-Jewish) neighbors. When the tale begins, the family are celebrating Passover and discussing the news about Hitler and the Nazi’s military advances. Readers see the family gathering together, preparing matzah, and praying in Hebrew, showing Jewish life to readers unfamiliar with their customs.
The book is told in five chronological parts introduced with the range of years during which each part occurs. Estelle remembers how the Nazis invaded Poland, forced Jews to wear the Star of David, displaced them from their homes, and rounded them up for transport to ghettos and death camps. Some of the non-Jews covertly sheltered their Jewish neighbors, which is how Enia and her brothers escaped the horrendous fate of other family members and friends. However, just because they did not end up in a death camp does not mean they had an easy time surviving.
One aspect of the book I appreciated was seeing the shades of morality that some characters portrayed. For example, one neighbor agrees to conceal Enia, her mother, and two brothers, but only for one night as he fears for his own life should the Gestapo discover his betrayal. Is such a character kind, malevolent, neither, or something in between? In another instance, Shia escapes the jail he and Enia have been imprisoned in, and dashes away before Enia can catch up. The terrified Enia freezes on the spot and breaks down crying. Shia later admits he heard her crying, but stayed away, afraid that she would get them both caught. What does the reader think of Shia’s actions? He instructed Enia on how to escape before getting free himself, but then he left her alone after he promised he would wait for her.
The panels of the book are well organized and easy to follow. The characters’ facial expressions and actions move the story along. Simple backgrounds keep most of the focus in the foreground where the characters are positioned. The color palette of dim earth tones preserves the solemn tone of the book and again keeps attention on the characters. Scenes of violence depict beating, shooting, and blood spatter. One instance of this is a firing squad. Blood paints the wall behind the people who have crumpled into corpses on the ground. In another scene, Nazi soldiers beat and then murder Chaya, who refuses to tell them where her children are hidden. This history and imagery are painful, but important to learn about for children who are old enough to do so.
Recommend The Girl Who Sang to older kids and tweens who like the I Survived series and other historical or biographical books.
The Girl Who Sang: A Holocaust Memoir of Hope and Survival By Estelle Nadel Art by Sammy Savos Macmillan Roaring Brook, 2024 ISBN: 9781250247766
Publisher Age Rating: ages 10-14 NFNT Age Recommendation: Middle Grade (7-11), Tween (10-13)
Creator Representation: Polish, Jewish Character Representation: Polish, Jewish
Before opening the cover of the graphic novel, I knew that this was a true story, a memoir that had been originally told in an animated film for the National Film Board of Canada, but I had no other familiarity with the story or the reaction that it would generate within me. I was perplexed when I immediately recognized the setting of the story—I had been at that camp myself, a gift from an unknown sponsor much earlier and, while I distantly recalled much of the camp experience, I had totally forgotten where it was located until I saw the provided map. Memories came flooding back. Like my earlier experience, the author/protagonist was also attending the camp for the first time and, like this reviewer, was more excited about the accessibly of comic books and time to read than anything else!
The camp, in central Alberta, Canada, is located close to the small town of Eckville which, in the 1980s, became notorious because of its anti-Semitic mayor who also was a grade nine teacher in the local school. For several years the teacher, Jim Keegstra, taught his students that the Holocaust was a hoax. This was eventually halted by a parent campaign that resulted in a law case regarding hate and anti-Semitic propaganda. Keegstra was fired, but what was his legacy in the belief systems of those students? “Believing the curriculum was “incomplete,” Keegstra had been teaching Holocaust denial and anti-Semitic conspiracy theories in his classroom – that Jewish people had an international plot to control the world and were to blame for everything that’s wrong” (17).
To combat Keegstra’s troublesome legacy, the Alberta Jewish communities invited the students taught by Keegstra to the summer camp for a day of basketball and fellowship encouraging cultural understanding. The reader is privy to the initial worries and concerns of Hart and his fellow campers regarding the admission of these students into the camp and their lives. What follows is an illustration of misunderstandings and beliefs…and the natural healing and changing of worldviews through the game of basketball. The illustrations are simple line drawings, mostly in black and white, with spots of bright colors and backgrounds emphatically aiding in the emotional telling of the story. The perspective of the text and the illustrations is that of the children with the colored panels accentuating the outlandish monsters created by their imaginations and lack of knowledge of each other.
In the author’s note at the end of the book he discusses the effect Keegstra’s trial had on him as a grade 6 Jewish student. “Keegstra was successfully convicted of criminally promoting hatred of Jewish people, which was an important test of Canada’s hate speech legislation” (83). Hart continues to explain that the public debate surrounding this trial, although uncomfortable, forced Canadians and others beyond our borders to seriously consider the dangers of racism, the necessity of critical thinking skills, and the personal responsibilities to stand up against hate.
Although the basketball game took place in 1983, the trial in 1985, and Keegstra’s appeal to the Supreme Court of Canada in 1996, the issues of racism, anti-Semitism, critical thinking, conspiracy theories and the dangers of hatred are not limited to the past.
I was a mother with two young children when the Keegstra Affair came to light. I lived locally and followed the news faithfully but was never aware of this basketball game until now. This is a story that needs to be read and revisited both the in the original filmic version and this newly published graphic novel again and again. The book includes an introduction, follow up to the trial, study questions, and a glossary. It is a concise and accessible entry to the ease of spreading conspiracy theories, fake news, misinformation, and hatred. Highly recommended for school and public libraries.
The Basketball Game By Hart Snider Art by Sean Covernton Firefly, 2022 ISBN: 9780228103912
Publisher Age Rating: 12+ Related media: Movie to Comic
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Middle Grade (7-11), Older Teen (16-18) Creator Representation: Canadian, Jewish Character Representation: Canadian, Jewish
A reworking of the 400-year-old Jewish legend of the Golem of Prague is the foundation for this contemporary exploration of life, crime, and death in Venice Beach, California.
Adam, the Golem, now resides in California and has a direct link with the human protagonist Jake, a secular Jew hipster. Jake’s bloodline has been historically protected by the Golem, demonstrated in the graphic novel in two historical vignettes taking place during World War II. This background is further explained through discussions with Jake’s Uncle Steph. Jake’s life, and Adam’s existence, become imperilled when Jake falls for a neighbour with connections to a Santa Muerte cult and drug-dealing gangsters.
The legend of the Golem is born of violence towards Jewish people. In Venice Beach, the violence is not motivated by antisemitism but the death cult of the antagonists as they secure their drug fiefdom. Nevertheless, there are numerous connections in the storyline to Jewish culture, traditions, and history through the agency of Jake’s uncle and the vignettes. Adam may not be regarded as a legendary creature by the citizens of California, but readers have no doubt who he is and has always been although he does not physically resemble his ancient origins of a man made of clay. He is, however, a very large being that locals call “The Giant of Venice” or “El Gigante”.
Contemporary Venice Beach itself is a primary character in this tale, exemplified by Vanessa Cardinali, who provides potent contrasts between the sunny and exuberant day time scenes and the dramatic noir scenes at night. The original script for the storyline, written by Chanan Beizer, won the inaugural ScreenCraft Cinematic Book contest in 2018 before being offered as a Kickstarter project. Vanessa Cardinali is the lead artist with a variety of others illustrating the balance of the story. Bill Sienkiewicz created the striking cover as well as the uncompromising prologue depicting the origin of the Golem. Jae Lee was responsible for the World War II flashbacks, Paul Pope for the Golem’s interface with two teens, Michel Allred for the map of Venice Beach, Nick Pitarra for his double-page spread of the neighbourhood, and Stephen R. Bissette’s horror dream sequence. All the artists, colourists, and letterers are identified and celebrated within the graphic novel. The different styles and use of colour add to the enchantment of the book and the understanding of the time sequences of the story. The major disappointment was that the story-arc is divided into two volumes. This first one ends in a cliff-hanger that requires patience for readers in the resolving of the tale. I had not realized this when I first dove into the novel although the number 1 is visible on the spine but not the cover.
I therefore am recommending it with reservations. I am unable to pronounce the ending as satisfactory until the second volume is published. The story is extremely violent and includes images of sexual congress and horror but is fascinating at the same time. I am looking forward to finding out where the storyline will take me and the Golem. I will admit that I have a fascination with the Golem and have visited Prague and the supposed place of the creation of the clay creature and so may be successfully drawn into this world because of that. I may have been drawn into it because it is well told and effectively and thoughtfully illustrated and packaged. Or, as I highly suspect, for both reasons.
The Golem of Venice Beach, Vol. 1 By Chanan Beizer Art by Vanessa Cardinali, Bill Sienkiewicz, Jae Lee, Clover Press, 2022 ISBN: 9781951038601
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+) Creator Representation: Jewish Character Representation: Jewish
What if the God of the Hebrew Bible was a woman? In Let There Be Light, Liana Finck’s playful Jewish humanist retelling of the Book of Genesis, this question isn’t simply a thought experiment. It isn’t even a ploy to swap out the mercurial God of Genesis for a more enlightened model. Finck just wants you to know that her God is a woman, floating above us with a crown and a fairy godmother wand, a woman who is quick to anger and has some attachment issues, but is mostly doing the best that she can.
Genesis lends itself to adaptation, as even the most Bible-illiterate among us are likely to have passing familiarity with its stories: the Garden of Eden, Noah and the Flood, Joseph of Technicolor Dreamcoat fame. These are origin stories meant to orient us to our place in the world and our responsibilities to one another and their meanings shift depending on the reader. In Finck’s hands, they form a narrative about relationships: resentful spouses, jealous siblings, and an emotionally insecure God who can’t seem to figure out what she wants from her chosen people.
Examining the human element in these ancient stories, Let There Be Light remixes its source material in funny, startling ways. The book is structured in three parts: “Past,” which is vaguely set in what we might call Bible Times, “Present,” in which a modern-day Abraham fulfills his covenant with God not in the Promised Land of Canaan, but as an art student in a sort of Promised City, and “Future,” a science fantasy that unexpectedly imagines Joseph’s Egypt as an underwater kingdom peopled by merfolk (perhaps poking fun at the exoticization of Egypt in contemporary and ancient depictions—but also, why not merfolk?)
The artwork in Let There Be Light has a spareness that recalls Tom Gauld’s graphic novels. Despite its simplicity, it’s perfectly pitched to carry the story’s tonal leaps. At one moment, we’re treated to visual gags designed to make readers cackle (wait until you get to the “Begatting” section, which lampoons the erasure of women from Bible lineages by depicting babies sprouting from patriarchs in the manner of Athena from the head of Zeus). Yet the next moment, Finck starkly renders a story like the binding of Isaac, in which Abraham is spared at the last minute from sacrificing his beloved son. Against the grayscale line art, the color red is used to link images of desire or destruction—reminding the reader that we are all connected by blood, in more ways than one.
In the afterword, the author acknowledges she’s dodged some of the most difficult stories in Genesis. We don’t read of the rape of Joseph’s sister Dinah, nor do we witness the forced enlistment of enslaved women Hagar, Bilhah, and Zilpah into the Abrahamic lineage. While this book is deeply concerned with gender, it doesn’t wholly reckon with the ways in which female characters in the Torah are treated like property instead of people. Finck explains that she didn’t want to make these women’s stories feel like an afterthought in a narrative that might not do them justice. I did feel these omissions in the text, but I can understand her reasoning.
By the end of this book, the tricky God-human relationship has become less histrionic and more sustainable, and Abraham’s desperate striving has given way to Joseph’s triumphant thriving. Finck leaves us with a lesson plucked from the Jewish diaspora, voiced by a God that’s mellowed out over the millennia: “What’s most important is that you stay alive, and stay together.” For readers open to reading the Bible as literature, whatever their faith background, Let There Be Light brings exuberant new life to this very old book.
Let There Be Light: The Real Story of Her Creation By Liana Finck Penguin Random House, 2022 ISBN: 9781984801531
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+) Creator Representation: Jewish Character Representation: Jewish
Middle schooler Miriam Feigenbaum is about to be an adult. Well, in the Jewish tradition, that is. Her Bat Mitzvah is quickly approaching, so she’s got a lot on her plate: practicing her Torah portion, attempting not to roll her eyes too hard at her Dad’s terrible jokes, party planning, and, oh yeah, getting sent on a surprise journey to finish the mythical Unfinished Corner—the one section that was left undone when the world was created, where it’s said everything evil and monstrous hides. Just completely regular things for a 12-year-old who isn’t even sure how she feels about being Jewish, right?
What was supposed to be a field trip for winners of the school art contest is suddenly the adventure of a lifetime for Miriam, her two best friends Avi and David, and their classmate/frenemy Judith, complete with shapeshifting buses, fantastical creatures, and a rabbi who might just be something more. As the intrepid tweens make their way across this mystical and mysterious land in search of the Unfinished Corner, they’ll find themselves delving deeper than ever into Jewish traditions, mythology, history, and lore, and maybe, just maybe, starting to figure out what being Jewish means to them. And if they’re lucky, Miriam might help them save the universe while they’re at it.
There has been an uptick of late in middle grade novels centering the mythology of historically underrepresented cultures, and The Unfinished Corner fits right in, with the graphic novel format making it even more accessible. Part coming of age story and part adventure yarn, author Dani Colman seamlessly weaves those aspects together with stories from the Jewish tradition that many readers may not be familiar with. Through conversations between our main four characters, as well as from folks they meet along their trek, stories and religious customs are explained in a way that feels casual and conversational; natural and not didactic, even when asterisks are employed to translate Hebrew terminology and phrases.
As a non-Jewish reviewer, I cannot speak about the representation the book provides in the same way that a Jewish reviewer would be able to. I can, however, say that Dani Colman is a Jewish author, and lends at least her own lived experience to the voices of Miriam, Judith, Avi, David, and the cultural nuances they express throughout the book as they learn and grow together. So much Jewish literature for youth is focused on one specific period of history. It is incredibly refreshing to see instead a story where our main characters are just regular kids dealing with generic tween things like trying to figure out whether or not to wear makeup, drawing cool maps for role playing games, taking up a martial art to deal with bullies, and the way friendships grow and change, especially when you’re maybe hiding a pretty big secret. All while on an epic adventure, of course!
As always, when it comes to graphic novels, the stories would be mere shadows of themselves without the talented illustrators who bring the characters to life on the page. Rachel “Tuna” Petrovicz’s art style feels like watching an animated TV show or film; perfect for the wide range of events throughout the book, from action-packed demon fight scenes to the moments of goofiness, exaggerated expressions, and humor, and the quieter moments of deep frustration and generational anguish. Each character has a vivid, bright personality, and the diversity of backgrounds is made clear as well (Miriam and Avi are white, David seems to be coded as Black and possibly Iranian as well, given that he mentions speaking Farsi, and Judith seems to be coded as Latine and speaks Spanish). It’s an important visual reminder that there is not one specific way to be Jewish.
A recommended purchase for any library, The Unfinished Corner fills a much-needed gap in Jewish youth literature and is an at turns informative, funny, moving, and exciting graphic novel that will appeal to middle grade readers who are fans of friendship stories and anything under the Rick Riordan Presents imprint.
The Unfinished Corner By Dani Colman Art by Rachel “Tuna” Petrovicz Vault, 2021 ISBN: 9781638490111
Publisher Age Rating: 8-13
NFNT Age Recommendation: Middle Grade (7-11), Tween (10-13) Creator Representation: Jewish Character Representation: Jewish
In her new home of Piedmont, Becca yearns for what every high schooler desires: a place to fit in and a squad to call her own. Much to her surprise, the most popular clique in school immediately accepts her into their fold, bonding over shopping trips, gossip, and… bloodlust? On a full moon’s night, Arianna, Amanda, and Marley reveal their secret: they are werewolves, preying on skeevy boys who target unsuspecting girls at parties, and they want her to join the pack. Filled with a need for acceptance, Becca embraces the transformation, feeling a kind of strength she never had before. But with this power comes a dangerous hunger that rattles her to her core and tests her morals. Tensions only flare higher as longstanding rules are broken, authority in the pack is questioned, and one wrong kill threatens to expose them all. In this fast-paced, strikingly illustrated graphic novel, Squad perfectly balances its elements of drama and horror, though unfortunately does not live up to the full potential of its story.
Personal tidbit about me, I love werewolves, they’re my favorite monster, star in my favorite horror films, and can be abundantly diverse in terms of storytelling and design. I also love the girl gang trope found in films like Heathers and The Craft, which this comic utilizes perfectly, as I found so many parallels between this comic and the latter film. Naturally, I was excited to dive into a story about a pack of female werewolves taking a bite out of the patriarchy in a way only werewolves can, but was ultimately disappointed once I reached the final page.
Most of my issues with this comic comes from its story and how certain elements do not receive any development that would have made it more memorable. The themes of Squad, such as finding community, reclaiming agency and control from potential aggressors, and challenging oppression towards women are all there, but become muddled due to its fast pace and short page length. Standing at around two hundred pages, this does not give Squad the time it deserves to properly flesh out its message, characters, or lore and, as a result, its impact is compromised significantly. Though the comic strives to highlight female empowerment, the internalized misogyny shown by the main characters, exhibited through fatphobic remarks and moments of victim blaming, is seldom addressed or even combated. There are also several microaggressions committed against Becca, who is Asian, that receive the same treatment, which is odd considering they mainly come from her eventual love interest. Seeing this, I was waiting to see how the climax would handle these moments, if they were to serve some purpose for a more nuanced message about feminism or the effects of, as Ms. Norbury so eloquently put it in Mean Girls, “girl on girl crime.” Unfortunately, those scenes just sit within the story, unanswered for.
Some of the characters and their dynamics almost exist as afterthoughts, appearing through the uneven character development of our main cast, or the tacked-on romantic relationship between Becca and Marley that begins nearly fifty pages before the end of the comic. While it is always wonderful to see more LGBTQ+ representation in young adult graphic novels, it still needs to be quality representation that has enough time and focus devoted to make it truly resonating. What is truly disappointing about Squad is that its lacking elements could have worked, if only given a little more time to breathe, develop, and not feel so constrained by its own page length.
The saving grace of the comic would definitely be Lisa Sterle’s illustrations, which evoke an engaging atmosphere that revels in the story’s horror aspects. In the more suburban scenes, the colors are flatter, more evenly toned to match the domestic setting, but, in moments of high emotion or violence, Sterle incorporates a startling scarlet red, making these scenes stand out in a perfectly visceral way. The character designs are memorable, giving off a more modern Archie Comics vibe while having their own identity. Sterle deciding to give the squad’s wolf forms a leaner, more emaciated look is a good touch, tying in nicely with their insatiable appetites, though having them all mostly be different shades of brown makes it difficult to tell who is who at times.
Fans of series like Riverdale, Teen Wolf, and The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina will appreciate the dramatic and horror elements of the story, and for teen readers there is the additional appeal of connecting with a high school setting and the social issues brought up in the story. As Squad has multiple instances of gore and violence, along with one moment of near sexual assault, I would agree with the publisher-given age rating of 14 and up. While I would not recommend this comic as a must have for a collection, it may interest librarians and educators looking to include titles that share the appeal of the previously mentioned series or have a high circulation of female-centered, character-driven stories.
Squad By Maggie Tokuda-Hall Art by Lisa Sterle Harper Collins Harper Alley, 2021 ISBN: 9780062943149
Publisher Age Rating: 14+
NFNT Age Recommendation: Older Teen (16-18), Teen (13-16) Creator Representation: Japanese-American, Bisexual, Jewish Character Representation: Black, Japanese-American, Lesbian
This book opens with the free speech portion of the first amendment from the US Constitution, followed by writer Ian Rosenberg, who is Jewish, explaining the events that led to this book. Several events are referenced within the first three pages, including the 2018 mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, National School Walkout protests, 2017 Women’s March, and Mollie Steimer’s arrival at Ellis Island from Russia in 1913. Steimer’s foundational court battles lead into a key consideration: “Who is truly heard in the marketplace [of ideas]? If women, minorities, and the poor are not granted equal opportunity to enter the market, how can their voices participate in the competition for truth?” This question is immediately followed by talking-head quotes from law professors Charles Lawrence III, who is black, and Catharine A. MacKinnon, who is white.
The second chapter looks at Colin Kaepernick and the act of taking a knee (originally staying seated, but changed to kneeling as a sign of respect to fallen soldiers, an oft-overlooked nuance I was glad to see highlighted). After comparing reactions for and against that act of protest, the narrative shifts to the 1935 case of a child not participating in his classroom’s pledge of allegiance. There, as in Steimer’s case and many others used in this book, Rosenberg quotes and contextualizes judges’ rulings, their immediate fallout, and what they mean for Americans’ freedoms today. In each chapter, Rosenberg cites different scholars, justices, authors, and legal precedents, ensuring that his teacherly perspective is never unilateral or unsupported by facts and expertise. This is important when debunking Donald Trump and Clarence Thomas’s hypothetical rewriting of libel laws to go after the media, for example. Further issues include but are not limited to civil rights protests, propaganda on social media, Westboro Baptist Church’s protesting at funerals, and the Unite The Right rally in Charlottesville. There’s a lot to chew on in every chapter!
All of this history and legal analysis needs a skilled cartoonist to weave its various threads into a cohesive whole, and artist Mike Cavallaro is mostly up to the task. There can be paragraphs of dry text on some pages, and Cavallaro makes sure to break up each block of text with a related image, often a picture of someone in portrait. Layouts will include images designed to guide readers across the page; other times, they use broad, straightforward grids. Some metaphorical imagery underlines Rosenberg’s points, but more often than not the art is rather literal, depicting flatly delivered quotes, exposition, talking heads, and book covers. The first amendment appears as an anthropomorphic #1 wearing a red cape, battling laws aimed at restricting it. I can’t help but think back to my previous review of What Unites Us, which used color and figurative imagery more frequently and effectively. That’s not a knock against the arguments presented in this book, only its presentation.
An afterword including quick summaries of first amendment concepts, as well as a glossary of legal terms and chapter-by-chapter bibliography, provide resources for learning and recall. As one might expect in a thorough review of free speech, some of the book’s examples involve swearing, from celebrities cursing at awards shows to George Carlin’s “seven words you can’t say on television” bit, Samantha Bee’s callout of Ivanka Trump over immigration policy in 2018, and “fuck the draft” printed on a jacket during the Vietnam War. A section about Larry Flynt’s legal battles over Hustler, a pornographic magazine, does not include porn. The issues discussed in this book are undeniably pertinent to all Americans, as well as historians and legal scholars. To make another comparison to What Unites Us, this is another powerful teaching tool from the World Citizen Comics line of publisher First Second that demonstrates over and over the impact of people standing up for their rights, even (especially!) if doing so is unpopular. The presentation is scholarly, as well it should be. Close reading and factual analysis should be considered signs of respect for “the most American of virtues.”
Free Speech Handbook By Ian Rosenberg Art by Mike Cavallaro First Second, 2021 ISBN: 9781250619754
Series ISBNs and Order
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Older Teen (16-18), Teen (13-16) Creator Representation: Jewish Character Representation: African-American, Russian, Mobility Impairment, Jehovah’s Witness, Jewish, Protestant ,
The year is 1902 and nurse Jane Eyre is newly returned to London from the Boer War. After facing the horrors of combat in South Africa as a combat medic, Jane is having a hard time readjusting to civilian life, particularly regarding how society seems to think proper ladies should act. After years of having to do the work of a doctor in places where there was none, it is rough to be told you cannot do such things by men who have not seen what you have. Thankfully, Jane finds a sympathetic ear and kindred spirit in the Lady Estella Havisham, who helps Jane with another problem she is having – finding a suitable roommate.
Enter Irene Adler; an American and an actress, who is also in need of someone to help her pay the rent. Given Victorian London’s opinion of Americans and theatrical types, Jane is certain she and Irene will get along like a house on fire even before they meet. However, Irene is far more than a simple actress, living a double life that places her at war with both the respectable and unrespectable elements of society. Soon Jane finds herself drawn into Irene’s world and a conflict beyond imagining, as a foreign queen declares war on the British Empire for what they did to her nation and seeks the advanced science of Marie Curie to unleash a power undreamed of upon the world!
It is impossible to consider Adler without thinking of Alan Moore’s The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. (Indeed, the advertising for Adler described it as “The League of Extraordinary Gentlewomen.”) While this is an easy comparison to make, it is also an unfair one, despite both series having the same base concept of taking characters from Victorian literature and putting them into a story together. While Moore’s central conceit was to devolve the superhero genre to its penny dreadful roots and tell a Victorian superhero story, Adler’s tale is closer in tone to the pulp fiction and weird science stories that dominated popular fiction in the early 20th century.
Adler also has a stronger focus on its characters, with Jane Eyre becoming the Dr. Watson to Irene Adler’s Sherlock Holmes, but getting a bit more to do than offer Irene someone to talk to when exposition needs to be delivered. Lavie Tidhar’s focus on the characters and commitment to adding complexity to their motivations is such that one even feels a certain degree of sympathy for the villain Ayesha (aka the Amazon queen from H. Rider Haggard’s She: A History of Adventure), who shows surprising nobility by freeing the captive performers of a freak show while in the middle of plotting to kill thousands of innocents. There are also hints of a romance between Ayesha and her chief assassin, the vampire Carmilla.
The artwork by Paul McCaffrey proves equally well-crafted. The many action sequences of the story are well-choreographed and flow freely and smoothly from panel to panel, guiding the reader along. The character designs are also worthy of note, as McCaffery makes all the characters look distinctive so there is no chance of confusing any of the cast.
Adler Vol 1 is aimed at audiences 12 and up and I consider that to be a fair rating. There is a bit of bloodshed, with realistic depictions of garroting, radiation poisoning and bullet wounds, but nothing inappropriate to a T-rated graphic novel. Many of the literary references may fly over the heads of the intended audience, but adults will find a lot to enjoy in Adler beyond picking out the nods to characters from The Prisoner of Zenda and The Amateur Cracksman.
Adler Vol. 01 By Lavie Tidhar Art by Paul McCaffrey Titan Comics, 2021 ISBN:9781782760719
Publisher Age Rating: 12+ Only
NFNT Age Recommendation: Older Teen (16-18), Teen (13-16) Creator Representation: Israeli, Jewish Character Representation: American, British, Central African, Lesbian,
Echoes of October is built around a simple yet difficult question. The sort of question that children often ask and adults wish they could answer.
Birkenau approaches the subject with a surprising amount of levity and accessibility. The comic splits its time between the present (well, the present of 2020), in which the 95-year-old Kolinka re-visits the Auschwitz-Birkenau prison camp with a group of students, and the events of the past. Kolinka recounts her early life in France, her large family’s attempt to escape Nazi persecution, and most notably the experience of trying to survive in camp as she was being abused, humiliated, and dehumanized.
The Girl Who Sang is a Holocaust survival memoir by Estelle Nadel and illustrator Sammy Savos that tells the former’s story of hiding from the Nazis and eventually fleeing her native Poland.
animated film for the National Film Board of Canada, but I had no other familiarity with the story or the reaction that it would generate within me. I was perplexed when I immediately recognized the setting of the story—I had been at that camp myself, a gift from an unknown sponsor much earlier and, while I distantly recalled much of the camp experience, I had totally forgotten where it was located until I saw the provided map. Memories came flooding back. Like my earlier experience, the author/protagonist was also attending the camp for the first time and, like this reviewer, was more excited about the accessibly of comic books and time to read than anything else!
A reworking of the 400-year-old Jewish legend of the Golem of Prague is the foundation for this contemporary exploration of life, crime, and death in Venice Beach, California.
What if the God of the Hebrew Bible was a woman? In Let There Be Light, Liana Finck’s playful Jewish humanist retelling of the Book of Genesis, this question isn’t simply a thought experiment. It isn’t even a ploy to swap out the mercurial God of Genesis for a more enlightened model. Finck just wants you to know that her God is a woman, floating above us with a crown and a fairy godmother wand, a woman who is quick to anger and has some attachment issues, but is mostly doing the best that she can.
Middle schooler Miriam Feigenbaum is about to be an adult. Well, in the Jewish tradition, that is. Her Bat Mitzvah is quickly approaching, so she’s got a lot on her plate: practicing her Torah portion, attempting not to roll her eyes too hard at her Dad’s terrible jokes, party planning, and, oh yeah, getting sent on a surprise journey to finish the mythical Unfinished Corner—the one section that was left undone when the world was created, where it’s said everything evil and monstrous hides. Just completely regular things for a 12-year-old who isn’t even sure how she feels about being Jewish, right?
In her new home of Piedmont, Becca yearns for what every high schooler desires: a place to fit in and a squad to call her own. Much to her surprise, the most popular clique in school immediately accepts her into their fold, bonding over shopping trips, gossip, and… bloodlust? On a full moon’s night, Arianna, Amanda, and Marley reveal their secret: they are werewolves, preying on skeevy boys who target unsuspecting girls at parties, and they want her to join the pack. Filled with a need for acceptance, Becca embraces the transformation, feeling a kind of strength she never had before. But with this power comes a dangerous hunger that rattles her to her core and tests her morals. Tensions only flare higher as longstanding rules are broken, authority in the pack is questioned, and one wrong kill threatens to expose them all. In this fast-paced, strikingly illustrated graphic novel, Squad perfectly balances its elements of drama and horror, though unfortunately does not live up to the full potential of its story.
This book opens with the free speech portion of the first amendment from the US Constitution, followed by writer Ian Rosenberg, who is Jewish, explaining the events that led to this book. Several events are referenced within the first three pages, including the 2018 mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, National School Walkout protests, 2017 Women’s March, and Mollie Steimer’s arrival at Ellis Island from Russia in 1913. Steimer’s foundational court battles lead into a key consideration: “Who is truly heard in the marketplace [of ideas]? If women, minorities, and the poor are not granted equal opportunity to enter the market, how can their voices participate in the competition for truth?” This question is immediately followed by talking-head quotes from law professors Charles Lawrence III, who is black, and Catharine A. MacKinnon, who is white.
