Introducing a fresh, utterly original voice in the graphic novel world Exploring bodies and the spaces they inhabit, this tale is set in an old Victorian tenement housing six lonely individuals who could only have stepped out of the pages of a comic book. There is the retoucher who cannot touch, a grandmother who literally blends into the background, and a 20-something guy who's sexually attracted to diseased women. Yet, as we learn the stories behind these extreme characters, it becomes apparent that we may share simlar issues—as individuals and as a society.
Αυτό το κόμικς το έπιασα στα χέρια μου επειδή έχει ωραίο εξώφυλλο. Θα μπορούσα βέβαια να θαυμάσω μόνο το εξώφυλλο του και να τελειώσει εκεί η δουλειά.
Το σχέδιο του The House that Groaned δεν είναι του γούστου μου. Τα παράξενα πρόσωπα, η έλλειψη στη λεπτομέρεια, τα λιγάκι πειραγμένα χρώματα, για μένα δεν.
Αλλά εντάξει, δε θα κολλήσουμε στο σχέδιο αν η ιστορία, ξέρετε, *βγάζει κάπου*. Κι ενώ οι χαρακτήρες του δεν είναι κακοί, μοιάζουν ελάχιστα δουλεμένοι και αποσπασματικοί, σα να βλέπεις ένα 13ο επεισόδιο της δεύτερης σεζόν ενός network drama, σίγουρα υπάρχουν περισσότερα στους ίδιους και στην πλοκή αλλά εσύ απλά παρακολουθείς μια στιγμή τους/της που δε σε αφήνει ιδιαίτερα να ευχαριστηθείς, έτσι αποκομμένα, το τι συμβαίνει.
Επίσης νομίζω ήταν ένα τσικ παραπάνω, εχμ, ανόητο για τα δικά μου γούστα. Και μου αρέσουν πολύ τα ανόητα πράγματα.
Σε αυτό το σημείο να πω ένα ευχαριστώ στα βιβλιοπωλεία που επιτρέπουν το να διαβάζεις μέσα στο κατάστημα χωρίς να αγοράσεις και σκότωσα καμιά ωρίτσα εκείνη τη μέρα, μπράβο, στηρίζω.
The House that Groaned is a refreshing, and often, grotesque commentary on society and the strange beings who inhabit it. We follow a woman whose unhealthy relationship with food consumes her life, a man who is attracted to diseased and deformed women, a man who longs for a relationship with someone real as opposed to the models whose photos he retouches, a new female lodger who we learn isn't quite what she seems and an elderly woman who blends in with her surroundings.
Most of these characters typify social norms; for example, there is a lot of emphasis on appearance and image in contemporary society, and in order to achieve the 'desired' look, most people resort to manipulating their eating habits. Janet is a formerly larger female who denies herself treats in order to remain thin. We can see that she isn't happy, and her continual calorie counting takes over her life becoming a borderline obsession. Fransman contrasts her with Marion who is a larger woman and proud of the excesses she indulges in. We see that Janet and Marion are two opposite ends of the scale - neither one of them is happy deep down, and we come to learn that their upbringing influenced the people they have become.
Fransman cleverly addresses the Nature vs Nurture debate in her book and asks the question: are we who we are because of genetics or are we products of our environments? I think in the case of The House that Groaned, our environments are pivotal factors which shape and mould us into the adults we become.
And then there is Brian who is attracted to women of all shapes and sizes with diseases/disfigurements. His back story is a little more opaque, although we come to learn that as a child he was diagnosed with Meningococcal meningitis. What I believe Fransman is trying to emphasise is the understanding one diseased person has for another, and how they have an affinity through their diseases, almost like a linchpin connecting them together.
Matt is the guy who retouches models' photographs and who continually strives for perfection; perfection in his work, in the models themselves and in the world around him. He meets Barbara, the newest resident, and immediately takes a shine to her - she is attractive, in proportion and perfectly sculpted. We later learn that Barbara wasn't born a female, she was actually a boy named Peter, and in her own endeavour to achieve perfection and be accepted/wanted by society, changed gender resulting in a sculpted body, a sculpted body lusted after by Matt.
And finally we meet Demi Durbach, a lady who has lived within the confines of her apartment for so long that she literally blends in with her furnishings. This is a very real and prevalent topic affecting mostly elderly people who feel that they cannot go out in society because society has either changed too much for them and they no longer recognise the society they once was a part of, or they feel ostracised/a burden to society. Despite this character being a background one (no pun intended) it was quite possibly the story which affected and moved me the most - a melancholic story of an elderly woman trying to reintegrate herself back in society.
The story ends rather grotesquely, a lot of people die in horrific ways or end up in unpleasant situations, but for me there is an honesty and a justness to the book - most of these residents are too wrapped up in their own sins to notice the wider world hence why their obsessions become their own undoing.
And of course, let's not forget about the street where they all live - Rottin Road. I think the name speaks for itself; some of them are rotting from the outside in, while others are rotting from the inside out, and a few are just plain rotten.
The illustrations are perfect, using a minimal and subdued colour scheme to encapsulate the fact that actions speak louder than words. Fransman focuses on the behaviour of the characters within a compact space and by using natural colours, does not dilute or impair the honesty and grittiness of her portrayal of real life.
This book is about a handful of flawed people, or if you prefer, misfits, whose unhealthy and unnatural obsessions make The House that Groaned a compelling, unusual and utterly memorable book. If you want to read something different, thought-provoking and ferociously honest, then this book is definitely for you!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
For fans of grotesque Steadmanesque drawings and corporeal Selfian humour, Fransman’s GN debut will produce squeamish laughs from the darkest nodes of your oesophagus. Like Chris Ware’s Building Stories in that the book takes place in a tenement building and shows the lives of various inhabitants therein and the history of the building itself, House That Groaned is less concerned with hitting universal notes of loneliness and sadness and more concerned with squeezing laughs from a man who dates the disfigured, an obese socialite who stages bacchanalian food orgies, a m-to-f transsexual who is gored through a coffeetable moments before humping her true love, and a landlady who shapeshifts into cabinets and sofas. For a debut work (endorsed, inexplicably, by Nic Roeg who made Don’t Look Now—an uncle or something?) this is the product of a dangerous comic mind verging on the sadistic, but grotesque nihilism always has a place in the world because sometimes the human race ain’t worth redeeming. Especially when grownups use non-words like ‘ain’t’ in reviews and expect to get away with it. Liked this.
The book follows the lives of the 6 inhabitants of a nondescript, old Victorian house on a place called Rottin Road. One is a cosmetics saleswoman who's recently moved into town, another is an odd fellow who touches up photos of models, one is a diet consultant, one is a man who only loves women with disease or disfigurement, one is a homebody, and one is a hedonist. Their lives intertwine and the reader slowly gets to know each of the characters' strange pasts and how they became the people they are today.
Karrie Fransman's debut comic book is an oddball story that starts slow and builds gradually to a rollicking pace, completely enrapturing the reader into its fantastic story. I thought each character was well written and completely fascinating. What you quickly realise when you read it is that no-one is as they seem and the flashbacks to the characters' pasts shine light on new elements to their person that completely change the way you view them.
Fransman draws the characters as kind of bizarrely warped humans with doll/marionette-like faces, all circles, but she is still able to convey expressions and emotions through these faces while retaining a unique look to other comics out there. I particularly liked how she drew the old lady at the top floor who stayed in all day - she's drawn as a literal homebody where her body is moulded into the furniture she's standing next to/sitting on at that moment.
"The House That Groaned" is an original, well written, and completely enrapturing read that deserves a wide audience. I loved it and highly recommend anyone who enjoys contemporary comics to seek it out.
Nice ideas, some good writing, but ultimately let down by clunky art.
Talking about the different lives of people in a divided building works very nicely as a graphic novel. Even though Eisner got there first and Chris Ware has done great work on this theme, there's plenty of opportunity for new takes. This story adds new elements of fantasy, perversion and mystery to the mix. And the art plays around nicely with the feeling of looking into a dollshouse- especially the very enticing cut away cover.
But in the end I could not overcome my dislike of the bizarre mannerism of Fransman's cartooning style especially the triangular noses and balloon cheeks on all the characters which looks sloppy and immature. Comics need good character illustration before they can sing, however good the writing.
In short: this wasn’t what I expected and not in a good way.
Perhaps I misunderstood the synopsis or maybe it was that the synopsis was worded poorly which allowed for multiple interpretations and made me, in a roundabout way, misunderstand what this graphic novel was going to be and was supposed to be. I went into it expecting quirkiness, of course, as the illustrations highly hinted at the fact that this wasn’t going to be a conventional book. The illustrations drew me in and ended up making this somewhat successful for me, but the words themselves are what let this down massively. I feel like it had so much potential but its execution was inherently poor and this made it ultimately fall down. It’s always disappointing when expectations aren’t met and my hopes were completely dashed with this as I feel like there was so much that it could’ve been and yet not much that it ended up being.
The plot didn’t make sense, the characters were flat, the setting was dry, the whole piece as a whole was incredibly deflating and there wasn’t much to pull it back to being remotely decent opposed to the illustrations themselves, which is why I rated it two stars - the art style was irresistible, quirky, and generally unlike anything I’ve seen before in anything of this nature. I do feel like if it had been padded out correctly, it would’ve offered so much more! I think it had so much to give but little chance to deliver, and that’s endlessly disappointing.
Despite it not being what I wanted, or expected, I would still recommend you to check this out - whether for the art style itself or whether the plot draws you in. It’s an incredibly quick read so you can’t really go wrong with giving it a go. I still think it’s worth a gander at, even if I didn’t pull anything particularly lasting from it.
There were some things I kind of liked about this book - the drawings were at times interesting, I liked her lettering. But overall the characters felt ridiculous and over-done. The end, however,
This attractively packaged graphic novel--I love the die-cut cover!--tells the story of six apartments, and the people who live in them. Their stories intertwine in interesting and unpredictable ways. This was pleasant enough, if not particularly memorable. The characters were interesting and fun, but ultimately this is pretty much an exercise in storytelling with intertwined narratives. You read it, not for the story, but the way the story is told. Fransman has an interesting, slightly abstract art style, sort of like a toned-way-down version of Mary Fleener. This was fun and all, just kind of inconsequential.
Facto: quando mais penso neste livro menos consigo decidir-me se gostei ou não do que li. Se por um lado considero as temáticas interessantes, a verdade é que diversidade de personagens não me atraiu e, claramente, a excentricidade da arte não me agradou.
“The House That Groaned” conta-nos a história abreviada dos seis inquilinos que vivem no antigo edifício 149 da Rotin Road, fala-nos das suas manias e estigmas, de traumas que têm por base estereótipos sociais.
Este é um livro que faz duras críticas aos escravos da beleza, aos que sofrem por não corresponder aos padrões com que somos diariamente bombardeados. Ao longo da obra somos arrastados para o desequilíbrio emocional que esta realidade pode provocar em muitos de nós e que nos faz esquecer facilmente o que nos faz felizes.
Pessoalmente, só não gostei mesmo da arte, o próprio espectro de cores deixou-me triste e acredito que era essa a intensão da autora.
Dito isto, não é que me arrependa de ter comprado e lido este livro, mas acho que esperava algo diferente, algo que me conquistasse. O que senti acabou por ser uma grande inquietação por esta ainda ser uma problemática tão atual e recorrente, mais um monstro que muitos de nós escondem no roupeiro e que permitem que afete quem somos no dia a dia.
A fantastically funny read but with a sprinkling of heartfelt moments that just makes it feel more human. Yet while this looks at the human condition, it is not grounded in reality. But that doesn’t make it any less relatable.
The characters all have faults, some making my skin crawl, others just laugh. Fransman skillfully keeps the story flowing seamlessly by moving onto a new character’s perspective by having them pass each other in the house. I also like the flashbacks to the house being built (since this house is the only thing they all have in common) and the backstories of each person (if one could call them that?)
Stylistically, this is composed brilliantly- my only criticism is that the faces can sometimes be hard to contextualise (in terms of angles of the head and expressions) because the cheeks are so boldly drawn. This is the only thing that’s knocked the book down to 4.75. But other than that, the monochromatic colour scheme doesn’t distract from the visual storytelling. Frank’s man captures subtle emotions excellently, and I was particularly blown away by the moments of social awkwardness between characters. Sound and voices are incorporated skillfully to compliment the smooth pacing of panels, and the humour is great, whilst also maintaining compassion around some more sensitive events.
Overall, I flew through this and so glad I picked it up on a whim from the library!
This book really wasn't for me... I chose it because it had a pretty cover, a mistake I have made before, and I was in a rush. The characters were odd, I couldn't tell what was really happening and what people were imagining, and there wasn't really an overarching story.
Interesting, funny and grotesque art paired with interesting, funny and grotesque stories. Exploring the disparate connections between residents of an apartment house and treating the house itself it's a body with various organelles inside... raises interesting questions about forced community and what we may owe to one another.
And the individual stories themselves also use colorful grotesqueness to pose interesting questions about living in a sleek modern world that is constantly interrupted by the messiness of bodily function and uncontrollable and unaccounted for emotions... but ultimately the whole enterprise literally collapses under it's own weight. A purposeful but ultimately disappointing finish to a really exciting start.
Literary graphic novels feel pretty rare. I could be wrong as they are outside my radar or more exactly they fall between my main interest in novels and the cursory eye I keep on comics. And I have seen a two graphic novels from mainstream (eg non-comic publishers) in the last year one based on a fantasy novel and one with a fish man, which still fall into ‘genre’ so would have a more identifiable audience.
I’d venture that The House That Groaned hasn’t got a readymade market but will find fans with literary readers and those that love graphic novels but want something that isn’t superheroes and spandex will definitely enjoy it.
It arrived in the morning and I’d read it by the afternoon. Reading comics isn’t something that takes hours but it surprised me as I had other things I should have been doing. So what engaged me?
The world that Karrie Fransman managed to create in 141 Rottin Road.
Visually apart from the yellow lights in the windows on the front cover the rest of the book is black, white with various shades of blue. The style is comic art. Each panel bring it alive as they should but the panels are more than functionary as there is something magical about it.
Not only is there magic in the art but in the story itself. It definitely dips it toe into magical realism, which is quite odd for a story involving the six occupants of house converted to flats. I initially thought it would played ‘straighter’ than it eventually was. But it’s surreal blending of reality with the imaginary is what makes it so absorbing a read.
Barbara moves in to 141 Rottin Road, which is anything but the thick-walled apartment she was told, and allows us to use her as an introduction to the other residents, who are, if I’m being honest, more than a little odd.
And Fransman seems to have great fun playing on their oddities. Though they aren’t so odd to unrealistic. The woman that runs a fat club but really just wants to eat, the man whose only means of sexual excitement is extreme looking women, and then there is the neighbour across the landing…
Even though it revolves around 141 Rottin Road we occasionally leave its walls to see key defining moments in the characters lives (Fransman even includes the building’s life in those flashbacks). And I think that’s the most fascinating aspect; what made them into the strange people that they are?
And that element makes it quite dark. The fact that these people have been so twisted by those key moments and how that has had what we might see as a negative affect on their lives. It’s also a very fun and playful story both in terms of visuals and storytelling like the hall literally filling up with people for the diet class and the a very glutenous food eating scene.
The House That Groaned is the type of story that graphic novels are made for. Visually compelling and narratively complex. It’s also a book that challenges the conventions and expectations of what the medium can do.
The lives of everyone at 141 Rottin Road are interconnected and what follows is a series of revelation about the six individuals that are dark and yet so intensely personal.
There’s a young woman who moves in to the old Victorian styled tenement and she bumps into an old neighbour who’s not left her house in years. Her next door neighbour is a retoucher with a fetish and an inability to touch, her upstairs neighbour is a woman who’s being bullied on a call to get back to her old obese habits, and a man who’s got a weird taste for women who’re either diseased or deformed.
The artwork threw me off occasionally but it’s still rendered in a way to share the uneasiness of existence. The plot is simple and done in a way for the stories to slip into each other. The author also gives us a glimpse of the “events” which prompted these people to turn out this way. I’m a little unsure about that aspect since identity is never formed from one singular cause. But a good read nonetheless!
Dans cette BD plutôt expérimentale, on suit la vie des divers locataires d'un vieil immeuble victorien qui tombe en morceaux.
Tous les personages de ce roman choral sont attachants et méritent mieux que ce qui leur arrive. Chacun d'eux sont aussi des connards qui méritent amplement le sort qui les attend. Chacun est plein de surprises, de traumas et de moments de chaleur. Et les interactions entre chacun d'eux étonnent tout en étant parfaitement logique.
Et naturellement, tout part en vrille. C'est trash.
Les illustrations peuvent sembler brouillonnes si l'on s'y attarde rapidement. Elles ne le sont pas. Le trait grossier amène une liberté dans la forme que la BD française ose rarement mais qui repoussera certains lecteurs. J'adore quand l'expérimentation sur la forme apporte quelque chose au fond sans alourdir inutilement.
Pour finir, le travail sur le lettrage est simplement magnifique.
Esta es una novela gráfica que no sabes muy bien cómo clasificar. Pero ahí vamos. El dibujo es raro, nada realístico, toda la novela tiene un solo tono que va variando en intensidad. Luego el dibujo de los personajes es raro, narices que parecen pirámides invertidas y que nacen en las cejas, las mejillas son dos círculos, que pueden ser muy redondos o alargados dependiendo de las circunstancias, cuerpos desproporcionados por ser gordos. ¿La autora tiene algún problema con los gordos?. En cualquier caso es dibujo me parece horrible pero puede que se haya seleccionado esta forma de dibujar porque la historia también es horrible y se quiere acentuar de este modo el tono grotesco de los personajes, la historia o la vida misma.
No lo recomiendo a nadie. La razón de que le doy dos estrellas es que fue un regalo de una amiga y solo por eso le doy una estrella más.
Graphic novel about a creaky old house and its strange tenants. There's a woman who runs a weight-loss group who is menaced by midnight phonecalls; a man sexually obsessed with illness and disfigurement; a woman who is invisible. The stories told overlap with each other in vignettes and flashbacks full of misfortune, misery and disappointment. A major recurring theme is women's bodies and the fears and pleasures of them. While Fransman's storytelling is good and her command of the comic panels works well...the art itself is ugly and drab. It looks like a cheap newspaper comic, even when coupled with more ambitious framing or complex visuals. If you can get past the artwork, though, there are some good little character pieces in here.
im gonna kill myself i spent like 45 minutes writing a long ass review but the app crashed and it didn't save. basically the characters feel underdeveloped either in their storylines or the points they're trying to make on the wider world. marion especially feels like a nothing take on living freely and playing by your own rules that's trying to convince you it's nuanced. i think the art is really beautiful and janet's story is well written, but overall this feels so overambitious in its social commentary that it lacks depth on any of the things it's trying to say and ends up feeling super shallow instead
I read this a couple of weeks ago and I'm still not sure what I think of it. It's quite an odd, and often grotesque, story about people's dark sides and their odd tastes. It's about an old victorian house where people rent apartments, and it starts with a young woman moving in. Every character is strange and we get flashbacks as to why they're so strange and then everything.. collapses. I can't even find the right words to describe it, it's so, so strange but still, very interesting, but it's not going to be everyone's cup of tea. I'm still not sure if it was mine, to be honest.
Quirky is hard to pull without slipping into annoying but this pulls it off. There’s a warmth and likability about the treatment of the various inhabitants of the house as their stories and backstory develop, even if they're not always too loveable themselves.
The art style matches the tone of the book, even when it’s impressively adapted to the individual characters. There’s a charming soap opera quality to the a lot of the book that would endear it a broader crowd than are likely to read it - even if in the end it resolves in a way that didn’t quite satisfy me.
I love the cover design and the pages that lean into the architecture of the house. The characters and their stories are extreme and often grotesque, but somehow come across as very human. Fransman gives us a strange tale, that has a major impact on our characters, but then slides into obscurity in the context of the larger world--at least how the larger world appears in the end papers of the book.