From the celebrated author of Blankets and Habibi comes a long-awaited new graphic memoir. Ginseng Roots follows Craig and his siblings, who spent the summers of their youth weeding and harvesting rows of coveted American ginseng on rural Wisconsin farms. Following an injury, Craig rediscovers this herb, central to Chinese medicine, and embarks on an extraordinary journey from his midwestern roots to north-east China.
Suffused in a vibrant earthy palette, Ginseng Roots masterfully blends memoir, travelogue and cultural history to explore and illuminate ideas of creativity, doubt, healing and family.
Craig Ringwalt Thompson (b. September 21, 1975 in Traverse City, Michigan) is a graphic novelist best known for his 2003 work Blankets. Thompson has received four Harvey Awards, two Eisner Awards, and two Ignatz Awards. In 2007, his cover design for the Menomena album Friend and Foe received a Grammy nomination for Best Recording Package.
Ginseng Roots is about Craig Thompson’s unusual childhood job: For ten summers, forty hours a week, he, along with his brother, sister, and mom, harvested ginseng root in their small town of Marathon, Wisconsin. China, South Korea, and many other Asian countries prize ginseng for its medicinal properties, and on the surface, ginseng is the star of this gorgeously illustrated sequential-art memoir.
But sadly, this book as a whole isn’t a star. Thompson is a scattered writer, constantly veering away from memoir. Unable to decide what to share and what to leave out, he shared it all, dedicating too many panels to numerous story lines and little details unrelated to ginseng. These include, but aren’t limited to, information about the growing degeneration of one of his hands; a reflective conversation with his sister about why she isn’t in his first memoir, Blankets; an appointment with a philosophizing acupuncturist; a bout of food poisoning; and a visit to a South Korean nude spa with his brother, Phil.
The book swings back and forth from boring to engaging, but when focused on ginseng, it tends to linger at the boring end. It’s sometimes a how-to-farm-ginseng manual. Then it’s about the 300-year history of the ginseng trade that itself feels 300 years long. Thompson also treated readers to snoozy ginseng-root facts, including how some ginseng shapes are more valued than others, and how different kinds of soil produce differently shaped ginseng roots. But what flat-out makes no sense is that he transcribed his many, often tedious, recorded interviews of various people.
This erratic mix kind of works in the sense that Ginseng Roots offers something for every reader. Certainly some readers may find the ginseng sections fascinating, but even for those who find them boring, that boredom doesn’t last long; a shift is around the corner. Thompson’s goal isn’t obvious, though, and it feels like he himself didn’t know the goal and was figuring things out as he went along. It’s possible his life was centered on this medicinal root for so long that he’s a little out of touch with the interests of average people.
Nevertheless, it’s hard to judge Ginseng Roots firmly. It’s too specific and too boring to be something most readers will like, but it’s undeniably an achievement that shows off Thompson’s artistic talent and dedication to a subject. The time commitment alone was a feat. Each page is a minutely detailed artistic wonder, and Thompson sank all the way into his subject, spending three weeks in China and South Korea getting into the nitty-gritty of ginseng and interviewing numerous people, both in those places and in Wisconsin. In a cute touch, Thompson had Phil illustrate some panels, and it’s fun to compare their artistic styles. But still, a clear through-line and tight organization is always better, as is understanding what readers genuinely want to know.
Thompson admits he had trouble figuring out what to write about for a second memoir. He’d attempted to write about his harvesting childhood in the past but struggled with plotting and gave up. Only after he decided to connect the various story parts to ginseng did he overcome the struggle. Yet the connection is tenuous and at times missing because it can’t not be: For all Thompson’s dedication to his subject, the ginseng angle seems pretentious, and throughout, it feels like he tried to squeeze a story out of something that doesn’t have much of one to tell. The summers spent harvesting also offer little story material: The author and his family were digging in a field all day. Thompson’s gut was even telling him that this time in his life can’t be successfully plotted: When Phil asks about the book’s progress, Thompson says, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s better in concept than execution. I’ve no confidence in drawing another ‘graphic novel’.”
Ginseng Roots feels less forced and more natural when it’s about Thompson’s family dynamics and about farmers’ hardships—put differently: when it’s about the human. Many farmers Thompson talked to lamented that most Americans are unwilling to work hard-labor jobs. To avoid having their farms fail, all farmers, not just ginseng farmers, have no choice but to hire migrants, many of whom are in the country illegally. It’s Ginseng Roots’s most valuable point, especially for migrant-hating, hard-labor-resisting Americans who nevertheless want and need what farms produce.
I haven’t yet read Blankets, but it sounds like its subject matter naturally provided an organized, tighter plot line, in addition to being more about the human. If only the same were true of Ginseng Roots. The memoir is nonlinear to a fault, and as unconventional as Thompson’s summer job was, there’s barely a story in it. Ginseng also doesn’t easily open storytelling doors. Certain cultures have valued the root for centuries, and it has medicinal properties—like so much else in the natural world. Nothing Thompson tells readers about ginseng makes it obviously deserving of a book. It sounds like the time has come for him to stop mining his life for stories and instead focus on fiction or even just on illustration alone.
Note: I received this as an Advance Reader Copy from BookBrowse in March 2025.
An overstuffed and messy book that meanders, stutters, and falters on its way to barely making a coherent point still managed to sorta keep me engaged as it tried to figure out if it was a history, a biography, or a memoir.
I have to assume that at some point while creating chapters 7 and 8 about Abraham Vang, Thompson must have had a notion that he was working on the wrong book but kept plugging along anyway.
FOR REFERENCE:
Contains material originally published as Ginseng Roots #1-12.
Contents: 1. Real Ginseng Runs -- 2. Sister Species -- 3. Broad Stripes -- 4. Rock(s) & Roll(ie) -- 5. MAGGA -- 6. Good Seed Sinks -- 7. No More Cartoons -- 8. Father Abraham -- 9. Dark Night of the Soil -- 10. Insam Respects -- 11. Red Thread -- 12. Agricultural Appreciation -- Notes -- Acknowledgements -- Phil(-er) Pages -- Other Books by the Author
Graphic artist Craig Thompson’s latest work centers on the famous medicinal root that plays a heavy part on his past and present. It first centers on him returning to his childhood home while we learn about he and his younger siblings spending most of their Wisconsin childhood summers working on farms clearing ginseng fields. We also learn about the people he worked for, his present struggles with his health and career and of course the massive history of ginseng from its grasp on the world to how it’s grown and harvested.
It’s an emotionally packed story that really brings a lot about Thompson’s and his family’s backstory, while unexpectedly bringing a very lot about ginseng that really does branch a lot through many voices and facts. His art, as well, is just so full of detail, emotion and is even a little funny too. It certainly does feel like two different stories in one, but I still found it to be very engaging and sobering.
Very deep roots found in this one. A (100%/Outstanding)
Fascinante y muy bien documentada por parte de su autor, que ya conocía de cuando leí hace años su autobiografía de "Blankets". Aquí vuelve a contarnos anécdotas de su infancia y un poco de su adolescencia vivida en Marathon, Wisconsin, pero ampliando lo ya visto en la citada y multipremiada "Blankets", pues también incluye a otros personajes no presentes en la anterior, como son su hermana Sarah, el niño Hmong (una etnia perseguida y reprimida por los chinos, que les obligó a refugiarse en las montañas de Laos hasta la llegada de la guerra de Vietnam. Su ayuda a los norteamericanos durante dicho conflicto durante una década provocó que fueran de nuevo perseguidos, esta vez como represalia por parte de los norcoreanos -Vietcong- tras el abandono de las tropas estadounidenses), etc.
Craig Thompson no pensaba precisamente en reavivar sus raíces y una infancia con padres autoritarios e imbuidos por la religión fundamentalista cristiana. De hecho comentó que quería solo hablar del ginseng a raíz de la lectura de un ensayo de Michael Polland que hablaba de cómo se forjó la civilización humana a través de la manipulación que llevó a cabo de la patata, la manzana, el cannabis (marihuana) y el tulipán. Pero no a todo el mundo de su entorno le fascinaba por igual los orígenes de dicha planta medicinal -o debería decir más bien raíz-, y la relación comercial entre China y EE.UU gracias a ella, que sufragó incluso su independencia de Inglaterra.
Sin embargo, en cuanto comentó el autor sobre su infancia cultivando y recolectando durante una década el ginseng americano -que dicen de sabor más fuerte que la variedad canadiense-, vio que crecía el interés de la gente volviendo a centrar parte de la historia en lo personal y, como ya sucedía en “Blankets”, puso el punto de mira en donde se crió: esa América profunda, esa localidad de Marathon, en el medio oeste americano, llena de granjeros del ginseng, más conocido ahí como shang, que exportaban a China.
Eso sí, sin dejar de lado la parte de medicina holística y curativa -él mismo relata como toma infusiones con distintas mezclas herbales, entre las que se encuentra el ginseng, para tratar su enfermedad autoinmune en las manos: la fibromatosis-, aparte de la mitología oriental, entre otras historias sobre el ginseng, gracias a entrevistas no solo en Wisconsin, con el pasado de su cultivo en granjas particulares y el de seguir cultivándolo actualmente en dicho estado, al entrevistar a los líderes de las dos mayores corporaciones que quedan (familias Hsu y Baumann), sino también en Corea del Sur (Geunsam, Seúl), China y Taiwán (Taipéi).
Sinceramente y bajo mi punto de vista es una novela gráfica superior a la de “Blankets” porque aúna a la perfección las crisis existenciales y el modo de narrar tipo confesionario de Craig Thompson que ya teníamos en aquella con otro tono más formal tipo docu-entrevistas y de ensayo. Además, ya no tenemos solo el arte en blanco y negro tan realista y a la vez sencillo de Thompson, sino que también añade tonalidades en gris a modo de las fotografías antiguas en sepia, y el rojizo del libro de Mao, sobre todo en las tipografías y caracteres chinos y coreanos que recrean a la perfección el origen oriental del ginseng, sin por ello denostar y minusvalorar su variedad americana.
En conclusión, sin ser una secuela de “Blankets”, sino más bien su anexo, es el complemento perfecto a aquella, y si no la leíste tampoco pasa nada si quieres adentrarte a esta última novela gráfica de este autor completo cuyo reconocimiento debería ser mayor del que actualmente tiene ya que, aunque le haya costado 8 años y 12 mudanzas terminar “Raíces de Ginseng”, y no sea el autor más prolífico del mundo, cada vez emociona y asombra más, a la vez que instruye, lo que no todos consiguen por igual.
Blankets is one of my all time, top 5 favorite books so I'm kind of stunned that I didn't realize he was publishing a serialized comic book, but am glad I only found out now that the entire series is available. Ginseng Roots fills in gaps in Thompson's autobiography, namely the manual labor he did on ginseng farms in Wisconsin as a child.
The series is about so much more than his own story. It's truly sweeping across time, culture, countries, and languages. It is clear that he did deep research and the power of the stories of the many people he interviewed make this a deeply personal look at the ginseng industry.
His art is just incredible, so imbued with symbolism and just outstandingly creative. I don't know how his brain works, but am so glad we get to enjoy the way he interprets the world and creates visual throughlines. Truly, the art work is stunning in this entire series and the choice to limit himself to only black and red ink makes the creativity within those bounds even more notable.
Recommend to fans of autobiographies, people interested in agriculture, Chinese medicine, Asian religions and mythologies, and honestly feel every American should read this because there is important history that most of us don't get taught in the public education system.
I’d read several of Thompson’s works and especially enjoyed his previous graphic memoir, Blankets, about his first love and loss of faith. When I read this blurb, I worried the niche subject couldn’t possibly sustain my attention for nearly 450 pages. But I was wrong; this is a vital book about everything, by way of ginseng. It begins with childhood summers working on American ginseng farms with his siblings in Marathon, Wisconsin. Theirs was a blue collar and highly religious family, but Thompson and his little brother Phil were allowed to spend their earnings from the back-breaking labour of weeding and picking rocks as they pleased. Each hour, each dollar, meant a new comic from the pharmacy. “Comics helped me survive my childhood. But what will help me survive my adulthood?” Thompson asks.
Together with Phil, he travels first to Midwestern ginseng farms and festivals and then through China and Korea to learn about the plant’s history, cultivation practices, lore, and medicinal uses. As he meets producers – including a Hmong man whose early life mirrors his own – he feels sheepish about how he makes a living: “I carry this working-class guilt – what I do isn’t real work.” When his livelihood is threatened by worsening autoimmune conditions, he tries everything from acupuncture to psychotherapy to save his hands and his creativity.
This chunky book has an appealing earth-tones palette and shifts smoothly between locations and styles, memories and research. When interviewing growers and Chinese medicine practitioners, the depictions are almost photorealistic, but there are also superhero pastiche panels and a cute ginseng mascot who pops up throughout the book. It pulls in class and economic issues in a lighthearted way and also explores its own composition process.
The story of ginseng is often sobering, involving the exploitation of immigrants (in the Notes, Thompson regrets that he was unable to speak with any of the Mexican migrant workers on whom the American ginseng harvest now depends), soil degradation, and pesticide pollution. The roots of the title are both literal and symbolic of the family story that unfolds in parallel. Both strands are captivating, but especially the autobiographical material: Thompson’s relationship with Phil, his new understanding but ongoing frustration with his parents, and the way all three siblings exhibit the damage of their upbringing – Phil’s marriage is crumbling; their sister Sarah, who has moved 26 times as an adult, wonders what she’s running from. A conversation with a Chinese herbal pharmacist gets to the heart of the matter: “I learned home is not WHERE I am. Home is HOW I am.”
Both expansive and intimate, this is a surprising gem from one of the best long-form graphic storytellers out there.
Originally published, with images, on my blog, Bookish Beck.
In reality this is more a 4 stars, but the art is so good that I simply can't dock a star.
This fat, sprawling, messy graphic memoir won't be to everyone's taste, and there were times I questioned my own doggedness in pushing through some chapters, but oh, how amazing to be in the hands of such a talented artist. I learned more about Ginseng than I ever thought I'd care about, and there are sections that are less memoir and more biography of others, but the themes explored in this tome are timely and the illustration style is a masterclass in story telling.
Rating for Craig Thompson books: Ginseng Roots: A Memoir - 5 Blankets - 4 Habibi - 4 Carnet de Voyage - 4 Space Dumplins -3 Good-Bye, Chunky Rice -3
Me ha gustado mucho cómo Thompson utiliza lo autobiográfico para acercarse a sus miedos y dudas como hombre que se acerca a los 50 además de a cuestiones universales que van desde lo más personal (las relaciones familiares y su percepción con el paso del tiempo; el síndrome del impostor; el desarraigo; convivir con una enfermedad que te acompañará el resto de tu vida) a lo general (el progreso como sociedad y la desvinculación con las tareas más manuales; lo artesanal vs lo industrial; la relación con la inmigración). Y como consigue conectarlo todo con el ginseng, su cultivo, su explotación, su cultura, en un relato que además se acerca a lo histórico, lo mitológico, el libro de viajes... Empecé con una cierta distancia y me ha ganado del todo, a pesar de la cancha que le da a las pseudoterapias.
Medio documental, medio autobiografía. La sensación que me deja es que Thompson usa esta vuelta a las raíces (literales y metafóricas) como vehículo para superar una crisis creativa y problemas de salud. No es realmente una historia al uso, si no que se aproxima más a un libro de viajes. Está bien dibujado y bien contado, que es lo que importa.
A beautiful graphic memoir, I learned a lot about ginseng and a lot about life. Beautiful brushwork that feels wishful and hopeless, a bit of this listlessness that can just cover you. The world he grew up in is very different from mine but that connective strand that keeps wriggling back to him reminds me of some of the things I’ve found in my life that help ground me. Really good!
Thompson has created a dense and stunning book that encompasses an incredible amount of information about ginseng--from his own childhood experience working in growing fields of "the ginseng capital of America" to the plant's role in history, folklore, medicine, culture, and more.
He adquirido "por encima de mis posibilidades" conocimientos sobre el ginseng aunque el relato va de mucho más. Es de esas obras que se resiste a ser etiquetada con sus variadas conexiones, la documentación intensa, esa suerte de biografía o las páginas que rozan un tratado natural, histórico o sobre comercio internacional. La parte que trata la influencia de la educación religiosa me ha recordado a "Una educación" de Tara Westover. También he visto retazos de Joe Sacco en los capítulos que aparecen los inmigrantes como mano de obra barata o las referencias a Canada.
Just not for me. I was thinking this graphic novel might be like some of the documentaries I watch about topics that I am wholly not interested in at the beginning, but by the end, I can’t wait to find out more. It wasn’t.
“Success in capitalism always begins with a theft.”
The breadth and depth of Thompson’s research is both really impressive and highly compelling. We get a detailed history of ginseng and its alleged properties and the men who make vast profits selling it. He ties this in to Hmong immigrants, and their torrid backstory, and Thompson also shows how crucial a part ginseng played in his own youth and the many ways in which it shaped his outlook to much of the working world etc.
We also come across that age old cliché of farmers poisoning the earth for generations and also complaining that they can’t get locals to work for them, doing back breaking and/or tediously boring work, rather than the fact that maybe its because they are so greedy and/or awful to work for and pay so poorly?...
“They never solved the problem of how to plant ginseng more than once on the same plot, so when virgin land was contaminated, they bought up more land, turning a 160 acre farm into 17,000 acres.”
This memoir is pretty intense and quite beautiful at times, its confessional, poignant nature breaks off into many strands, sometimes stumbling into some surprising places. This is an incredibly ambitious project, and although it doesn’t always work, the art work is outstanding from start to finish, at around 450 pages that’s quite an achievement. This is all the more impressive considering the personal challenges the author had to overcome with his health too.
“We were never given a voice of our own. We were never given a chance to say anything. That’s why comics were important to me. It’s the only context where I found a voice.”
This book is in a similar vein to other recent epic graphic novels/memoirs like Joe Sacco’s “Paying The Land”, Guy Delisle’s “Factory Summers” and Kate Beaton’s “Ducks” like those, this has a noticeable literary fiction quality to the depth of the writing and drawing, reminding you just how much is possible with quality graphic novels and memoirs.
I really enjoyed this! The art, the intertwining of the author's own history with the history of another culture; some of the beautiful themes surrounding roots and memories. What a lovely memoir.
Ginseng Roots read like an engaging personal ethnography, and I left having learned and felt a lot! As someone with family roots in rural Wisconsin, this made me nostalgic as well as feel for the small American farmer and the people who work for them. I say that it reads like an ethnography because the interviewing and research that Thompson put into this memoir really shines through. I think sometimes it could have done with a little more exposition of the author's family members and friends, but for those of us who are interested in agriculture and the effect that the global economy has had on farming over the last century, the story still kept me very interested. I also loved the art (felt very Wisconsin!) and loved the personified Ginseng that accompanies the reader throughout the story. As a librarian in the Midwest, I will absolutely be putting this on my shelf!
El Craig Thompson em posa molt nervioset: el trobo cursi, sensiblero i “intensito” i trobo que li falta sentit de l’humor i una mica de mala llet. Definitivament no tornaré a llegir cap còmic més d’ell
¿Se puede hacer un cómic de 500 páginas sobre el cultivo del ginseng y que aún así resulte una lectura apasionante para aquellos a los que el ginseng nos da absolutamente igual? Sí, se puede... si te llamas Craig Thompson. Este nuevo piece-of-life vuelve a regresar a los escenarios infantiles que retrató en Blankets, ahora desde su yo maduro, para contárnoslo todo acerca del cultivo de esta raíz en su Winsconsin natal. Con este hilo conductor Craig acaba hablándonos sobre un montón de cosas: el bloqueo del creador, el lidiar con los efectos de una obra autobiográfica en tu entorno, la espiritualidad y la religión, el conservadurismo de las comunidades rurales, las fuerzas arrolladoras de la economía globalizada, la tensión entre ecología y supervivencia rural y todo otro sinfín de cosas con su inconfundible estilo gráfico y su maestría para contar historias.
10/29/25 This got a 4 for the intricacy of the story and the art. It is beautiful and full of complexity about the intersection of cultures, families, plants and people. All that said, if I was going strictly on enjoyment it would be closer to a 3.
“Maybe your issues are caused by drawing… and that which we love brings us pain. On the flip side of that, what makes us suffer brings us meaning.”
Every page was a mini-masterpiece and the color-way was gorgeous. Impressed by the incredibly amount of research, the twists and turns of the multiple storylines, and the medicinal herb I knew little-to-nothing about. The personal bits will always be my favorite parts.
oops, severely slacking on updating Goodreads. 5 stars for the art, maybe like 3.5 for the narrative, still overall super interesting and thoughtful, but took me a while to get through.
Po zupełnie letnim „Blankets”, „ Żeń-szeń” to jest komiks przez duże „K”. A w zasadzie to jeden z tych przypadków, kiedy sformułowanie „powieść graficzna” ma głęboki sens. Jest to bowiem ogromna, wielowątkowa lektura na długie godziny, do tego fantastycznie narysowana. Autor w dzieciństwie spędzał wakacje nie na próżnowaniu jak kumple, ale pracując z mamą, bratem i siostrą na okolicznych polach żeń-szenia, okazuje się bowiem, i to było moje pierwsze zaskoczenie w tej książce, że Wisconsin to światowa stolica upraw tej magicznej rośliny, eksportuje się go stamtąd nawet do Chin, kraju, którego kuchnia i medycyna ludzkim korzeniem stoi. Thompson wychodzi od swoich wspomnień, żeby zabrać nas w szaloną podróż przez kilkaset lat historii ludzkości, na dwa kontynenty i do kilku krajów. Mamy tu historię żeń-szenia i jego upraw, umocowanie w wierzeniach i kulturze azjatyckiej, znaczenie dla medycyny naturalnej, a to wszystko na tle geopolityki, nierówności społecznych, rasizmu, kapitalistycznego wyzysku, kryzysu rolnictwa, ciemnych kart w historii USA, kryzysu klimatycznego, chrześcijańskich denialistów i sama nie wiem czego jeszcze, tyle wątków udało mu się przemycić w opowieści, która, wydawałoby się, mogłaby dziewczyny z Polski w ogóle nie zainteresować. Tymczasem czytałam ten komiks zafascynowana (jednocześnie oczywiście podłamana) i co chwilę dowiadywałam się czegoś nowego. Dlaczego na przykład nie wiedziałam nic o tajnej wojnie USA w Laosie i ludzie Hmongów, który wspaniale Stany prawie wykończyły? Wszystko było dla mnie ciekawe, nawet zasady roli i grzyby atakujące uprawy. Do tego wszystkiego Thompson dokłada całą warstwę osobistą komiksu, czyli kontynuowane z poprzedniego komiksu rozważania nad relacjami z rodzicami i z rodzeństwem (spoiler: naprawdę odszedł od wiary oraz wyjaśnia czemu wymazał siostrę w „Blankets”, ona mu wybacza, więc ja też), zmagania z chorobą zwyrodnieniową dłoni (wiadomo co to oznacza do rysownika) i wypaleniem, ogólne próby radzenia sobie ze światem, do którego nie bardzo się pasuje. Wszystko to się pięknie skleja, uzupełnia i tworzy gęstą narrację. Żeby też nie dobijać czytelników, czasami bywa zabawnie, pojawiają się też pozytywne przesłania, więc kończy się czytać z przekonaniem, że może świat zmierza ku zagładzie, ale mimo wszystko możemy przeżyć jeszcze coś fajnego. Bardzo mi się podobał ten komiks. Bardzo.
Craig Thompson és un fora de sèrie. Un dibuix espectacular, pàgines hipercarregades (que a la vegada dificulten bastant seguir la lectura) i en aquest cas, com va fer a Blankets, decideix explicar una història autobiogràfica sobre els estius que passava collint arrels de ginseng quan era petit. Tot i aquesta temàtica i que és una bona totxana de còmic, aconsegueix mantenir l'atenció del lector fàcilment.
Craig Thompson wrote one of my favorite graphic memoirs, Blankets. Therefore, I knew I was going to love his new memoir, Ginseng Root, despite the peculiar subject matter.
The protagonist of this story is the ginseng root. Ginseng is used extensively in some Eastern medicine. Thompson grew up on an American ginseng farm in Wisconsin where he worked the fields with his parents and siblings throughout his childhood.
As an adult and a cartoonist, Craig decided to return home and interview several people about the ginseng business as well as travel to China. Those experiences, his own research, and his childhood memories of the farm make up the content up this memoir. I learned more than I ever wanted to know about ginseng!
While ginseng is the star of the show, the book is more than just that. It also deals with American history, Chinese history, Vietnamese history, geology, economics, politics, finance, medicine, religion, family, and the immigrant experience.
This book has a softer touch than Blankets. It dealt with religious fanaticism and parental strife. Thompson admits that his views of his parents have softened over time as they themselves have softened. It seems like this book was cathartic for him to write. That seems to be the big theme of this book. Thompson finally accepts his family and his “home.”
The artwork is beautiful. Thompson doesn’t use traditional comic panels. The scenes are free-flowing on the page but are never hard to follow. Everything is predominantly red (I’m guessing reflecting the red granite mentioned in the book).
Quelle BD !!! J'aurais dû la lire en plusieurs fois tellement elle est riche.
Craig Thomson a écrit il y a plus de 15ans une BD autobiographique "Blankets" (que j'adore) sur son enfance dans une famille très sévère et religieuse, et comment il a perdu la foi. Ici, il parle d'un aspect extrêmement important de sa jeunesse et inabordé dans Blankets : la pauvreté de sa famille et sa decenie de travail dans des champs de ginseng aux Etats Unis, de ses 10 à 20 ans. C'est un peu autobiographique, notamment sur son rapport au travail comme auteur de BD après une jeunesse très pauvre dans une famille d'ouvriers, mais c'est aussi un quasi documentaire. On parle de l'agriculteur aux Etats Unis, des Hmongs emigrés, de la guerre au Laos,... L'auteur s'est renseigné pendant des années sur pleins de sujets liés au gingembre, et retranscrit tout ça ici d'une façon très intéressante, avec toujours un côté personnel.
J'adore le dessin. J'avais peur que le trio noir / blanc / rouge soit agressif, mais il va de pair avec les sujets abordés et à beaucoup de sens.