Graphic novelists to discuss memoirs Oct. 6 at bookstore
East Bay's Pham, Loewinsohn to read their works at Montclair's Great Good Place for Books
Two new memoirs in graphic novel form convey the full range of the literary genre with diverse stories expressed with moving intensity by two East Bay author-illustrators.
Oakland-based graphic novelist (britannica.com/ art/graphic-novel), comics artist and high school educator Thien Pham's “Family Style: Memories of an American from Vietnam” begins each chapter with a thematic dish — rice balls, bánh cun, steak and potatoes and more.
Around each dish, the memoir chronicles and captures the joy, exuberance, fear, hard work, creativity and love that he and his family embodied as Vietnamese immigrants traveling to and establishing permanent residence in the United States.
In Berkeley-based Briana Loewinsohn's ”Ephemera,” the graphic novelist never uses the word “profound,” yet every page exudes its essence through the complex blend of her childhood experience. Raised by a mother whose mental illness led to neglect, the memoir is a breathtaking, rich tale of interwoven polar opposites: loneliness and companionship, emptiness and bounty, brokenness and strength, disintegration and rebuilding, being rooted and drifting, nurturing and starvation, holding on and letting go and more.
Pham and Loewinsohn will read from and discuss their new graphic memoirs Oct. 6 at A Great Good Place for Books in Oakland's Montclair Village (ggpbooks.com/event/ graphicmemoir).
In an interview, Pham says the most significant discovery that came from creating his book was clarity about the sacrifices made by his parents. At age 5, he and his family fled war-torn Vietnam as passengers in a small boat. Attacked by pirates, his earliest memories are hiding in darkness and the voices of his parents whispering that they were “right here — it will be OK.” The family escaped and arrived in the Songkhla refugee camp in Thailand, where they awaited relocation before immigrating to San Jose.
“I thought I'd be the same person now as when I started the book. It wasn't clear to me about the sacrifices my parents made. During my childhood, I was protected from thinking about the struggles they went through. Who I am and the opportunities I was provided were due to their sacrifices.
“It means I'm finally grateful in a way I'd never been. Now when I draw, teach, wake up every day, I feel I have to live my life to the fullest because of the sacrifices made for me. I'm trying to enjoy every moment of life. I've been freed by this book, which is an interesting thought.”
If there is freedom in having plunged into his origin story and risen to the surface restored and redefined, part of that position comes from having told an immigrant journey that includes humor, happiness, exhilaration, cooperation and kindness.
“This is definitely something I deliberately put into the book. I wasn't avoiding sadness; I was claiming my own voice. There have been many books about the Vietnamese diaspora, but the immigrant boat experience is not always or only filled with sadness.
“I asked my dad if the refugee camp, living in squalor, coming from nothing and the boat trip were the saddest times of his life. He told me `No, they were the best times.' Because we had a community of people all there to help each other. Of course, we had tragedy, but we had one thing that kept us going: hope.”
Pham remembers searching for sand crabs in the refugee camp, playing games with invented toys — slippers and more — and in America, the struggle and reward of learning English.
“It was tough to learn and to make friends. I struggled with reading until I read comics. The words and the pictures came together, and language became easier. It was a Spiderman and Moon Night comic book. I got it at a 7-11 and had New Year's money and was going to buy candy. Instead, I picked up the comic book, and it clicked in my brain. I never felt like a stranger after that. This is hyperbolic, but I say comic books have been everything in my life.”
Pham says through comic books he has made friends, found employment and been provided community and cultural connection. A major player in that group is Loewinsohn, who is a close friend of Pham, who is the godfather to her two children, an 11-yearold daughter and 8-yearold son.
In a separate interview, Loewinsohn considers her thoughts upon having completed her full-length debut graphic novel. The book leaps time frames, with childhood years told in subtle blue, gray-green or grayblack hues and her adultself narrator rendered in warm brown, ochre, tan and rusty red. Every phrase in the spare text and each line and shape of the art connects through darkness to ephemeral light.
“The book is a lot of metaphor. I put things out of order and made artistic choices,” she says. “I found in early drafts (that) the reality of how things looked was too limiting. How to draw my mom felt not right. But once I took it into an alternative landscape, that made it work.
“I made my mother look small and restrained, but she was actually a very large, wild-looking woman. In the book, she looks more like her mom, my grandmother. Once I realized it wasn't a documentary about my life, I felt free. It opened the door artistically.”
Like Pham, freedom afforded by a graphic memoir establishes itself as central in the conversation. She deliberately chose not to include a father figure in the book.
“I wanted this to be just about the relationship with my mother. My parents were separated, so I codeswitched between households. It would have complicated it to show those two separate worlds. It would have convoluted the whole picture. This kept it focused on my mother.
“There's so much richness you can talk about in any life, so with a memoir, you have to figure out what's necessary — and what story you want to tell. Telling this story was enormously rewarding. It helped me be OK with having conflicting feelings about my mother. I didn't know how to sit with the fact that she was my whole world and also a monster in my world. Now I'm more at ease with having both of those feelings at the same time.”
About graphic novels in general, the artists say new voices are pushing boundaries and expanding the genre. Pham says he is excited to see traditional prose writers and others explore the medium to find new ways to construct stories and art. Loewinsohn says she hopes the popularity and growing acceptance of graphic novels for adult readers will allow more people — not just kids — to celebrate the art form.