Kiedy Dawid stracił głos to jeden z najważniejszych europejskich komiksów ostatnich lat. Stworzony przez holenderską rysowniczkę, Judith Vanistendael opowiada o ostatnich momentach z życia tytułowego Dawida. Diagnoza - rak. Nie dotyczy ona tylko głównego bohatera, ale i całą jego rodzinę.
Vanistendael w brawurowy sposób udało się oddać grozę i absurd tej sytuacji. W przepięknych, pastelowych rysunkach pokazuje, że życie - choć bardzo ciężkie - potrzebuje pocieszeń i małych radości.
Judith Vanistendael studeerde na de middelbare school een jaar in Berlijn aan de Hochschule der Künste. Vervolgens volgde ze Kunstwetenschappen aan de Universiteit van Gent en deed ze de opleiding Beeldverhaal aan de Hogeschool Sint Lukas. Ze illustreerde onder andere voor Querido en Malmberg en publiceerde korte verhalen in de striptijdschriften Ink, Demo en Zone 5300.
Living with cancer while trying to live for your loved ones - powerful look at this dilemma. So often we get lost when adversity hits, we try to hard to change circumstances that we never had any control over in the first place. This book is one of the best examinations of the changing dynamics a family goes through when dealing with a member who is ill.
Amazing! There have been enough graphic novels dealing with cancer over the years to fill a small shelf. It's almost a genre unto itself. When David Lost His Voice is one of the best I've read. Very human, deeply moving, with lush watercolor artwork ... Probably best to have the Kleenex close at hand, but don't let that put you off from experiencing this wonderful book for yourself.
A beautifully crafted book about coping with death from the perspective of the dying as well as the people who watch death come to their loved one. Cancer can be a slow disease, and dying can be a slow process, and through this process one goes through different states of mind. And although the plot is by no means light, "When David lost his Voice" offers a peacefullness with which to talk about death.
I want to thank the author for writing this beautiful book. I want to thank my daughter for accidently picking up this book and bringing it home. I am so glad I started reading this book without any clue as to what it was about. All I knew was that it was a graphic novel and it would be a quick read. I was really hoping I could just discard it to the side after a few pages, thinking it would not be of any interest to me.
But to my surprise, I found myself between the pages of this book. It was a piece of my life between these pages that were so crudely drawn, but that made it that much more raw for me, as if the author was trying to make sure she captured this very significant part of my life, cell by cell as quickly as she could so as not lose that moment.
The book is about David, a 50ish year old man who is just finding out he has cancer at the same time as his oldest daughter is giving birth. The book focuses on the three most important women in his life, his oldest daughter Miriam, his youngest daughter Tamar, and his current wife Paula. Each one deals with this knowledge differently but in a very believable way.
I am probably biased when it comes to this review because this book was so personal to me. It landed on my lap by accident, but I felt like it was supposed to land there. It made me realize that I have not gotten over the death of my father, that there is an underlying anger seething beneath all the sadness, but also that I wish I could relieve those last days with him and I want to be that small child that could be affectionate with him, that could freely tell him "I love you so much. You mean the world to me. You are the best daddy a girl could ever have. And most of all, I'm so scared to lose you."
I will always feel like a small child when I think of him. That is probably why my favorite scenes were those depicting David with his youngest child Tamar. I wish I could be laying side by side in a boat with my dad looking at the stars, sharing a moment together. I wish I could snuggle next to him and read him a book. Tamar and her best friend Max try to come up with a plan of mummifying her dad when he dies so that he will always be with her. Max tells her that the soul only wieghs 21 grams, so he buys her a bottle so that Tamar will capture his soul when her father dies. To be so innocent and to think that it is possible to always keep your dad by your side, well that's a beautiful thought. These pictures spoke louder than words. They brought out emotions in me like a flood taking over me. I absolutely loved this book and cannot wait to buy my own copy of it.
I just finished re-reading the Fault in our Stars, which is, among other things, a tale of pediatric cancer. So now I turn to this graphic novel, which has a lovely and sad title, and is infused with poetry, with fragmented storytelling that seems to fir the fragmented understandings of all the characters: David, who's dying of cancer and at one point loses his voice, because of necessary surgery.
Watercolors give the sort of quick-seeming sketches emotional force, sentiment, but not sentimentality. The story and feel of it reminded me of the death of my mother, whose pain in hospice was somewhat controlled by morphine as she slipped away. A kind of gravity, and grace about it. This story was powerful for me, then, but a little too close for comfort too as I attended a funeral this week for a friend whose mother passed away suddenly.
As sad and beautiful as it is, it also seems important to read. No one wants to read these kinds of books on these topics, but I feel you kinda have to; it's enriching and helps you get in touch with experience that's beyond understanding and language, through the visual, through images that speak. Many pages of poetry and sweetness help you feel the love in this family amidst all the confusion and pain and sorrow. All hard, all good, in so many ways.
Wzruszająca, smutna, piękna, głęboka historia, wzruszająco, smutnie, pięknie, symbolicznie narysowana. Opowieść o umieraniu, a jednocześnie tak bliska życiu, że niemal namacalna. Dawno nie czytałam tak wyjątkowej książki. Zostanie ze mną na długo.
Graficky dokonalý román o dôležitej téme, ale občasne som sa v ňom strácala, nevedela som priradiť myšlienky k postavám, nevedela som identifikovať, koho pocity na mňa v danej chvíli presakujú. Každopádne stojí za prečítanie.
Intímny a zároveň univerzálny príbeh o rodine, ktorú ochromí smrteľná choroba jedného jej člena. Belgická autorka Judith Vanistendael spracovala tému straty prostredníctvom akvarelových ilustrácii, ktoré sú presnejšie než slová. Tými šetrí podobne ako hlavná postava Dávid, ktorý sa pre rakovinu uzatvára pred svetom. Rozumie si jedine s dcérou svojej partnerky Tamarou, ktorá sa s blížiacou Dávidovou smrťou snaží vyrovnať po svojom. Ako Dávid prišiel o hlas je kniha o smrti a zmierení sa s ňou. Hoci rieši príšerne náročnú tému, citovo nevydiera, ale dojíma a núti premýšľať o tom, čo je najdôležitejšie pre vzťahy.
Vanistendael slaagt er op een bijzondere manier in om de omgang met ziekte en de nakende dood op een zeer menselijke manier in beeld te brengen. Pakkend!
Eu sou daquele tipo de pessoa que não chora, inclusive não tenho registro do meu último choro, mas essa autora narrando essa história dessa forma cheia de poesia, ornando perfeitamente com um traço de uma arte muito fina e precisa, mesclando momentos de profunda tristeza com momentos cheios de uma doçura imaginativa e infantil, quase me fizeram chorar vaarias vezes. A sinopse põem em contraponto a tristeza da eminente morte do david com a alegria do nascimento de sua neta, mas na verdade quem mais mexe com a gente nesse contraponto é sua encantadora filha mais nova: Tamar que é uma daquelas crianças curiosas e de personalidade forte estilo Zazie, a interação deles nos causa uma mistura friamente equilibrada de muita ternura e dor, enfim recomendo demais.
Es una dura historia sobre el cáncer del protagonista, pero también una bonita historia sobre el amor en todas sus formas. Me quedo con una escena de amor filial, la del correo en globo. Porque la capacidad de hacer magia, y de maravillar con ella a los que queremos, está a nuestro alcance (y al de cualquiera), no hace falta mucho dinero, ni invertir demasiado tiempo, sólo hace falta lo más importante, ponerle un poquito de ganas y de imaginación para que esta se produzca y perdure por siempre.
Niekedy si človek musí prečítať aj o tom zlom, čo sa v živote stane. Potrebuje vedieť, že aj takéto veci sa dejú, obklopujú nás a sú našou súčasťou. Ako Dávid prišiel o hlas je grafickým románom o chorobe, o strate, o tom, čo sa deje s blízkymi, ako musia znášať to, že ich milovaná osoba postupne prestáva byť tým človekom, ktorého poznajú. Zároveň nám ukazuje aj ten nevinný detský pohľad, ktorý je častokrát zmätený, ale aj tak sa v ňom skrýva úprimnosť a veľká láska. Na grafickom románe je čarovné to, že dokáže na nás prehovoriť aj bez slov. A v tomto prípade ma tieto (ne)slová veľmi zasiahli.
Napriek vážnej téme sa tu našli úsmevné časti a aj časti, ktoré vás neskutočne dojmú. Dávid nie je možno príjemným čítaním, ale o to viac ho považujem za potrebné. Pozerá sa na realitu taká aká je z pohľadu každodenného obyčajného života. A za toto veľmi ďakujem.
Poruszony został ciężki temat - choroba nowotworowa, niechybna śmierć. Poznajemy perspektywę bliskich chorego, a takze jego samego. Problem został oddany z należytą powagą, w sposób realistyczny - również od strony wizualnej. Naprawdę przejmująca historia, warta przeczytania.
Bits and pieces of a family's story when one of the members is diagnosed with a deadly illness. Partners, former partners, children, and grandchildren of the person are all affected. Vanistendael uses a variety of page layouts, a slightly messy drawing style, and a nice fullcolor aesthetic to tell parts of each of these stories. She also integrates visual metaphor into the piece.
I see why people like this, but, personally, I didn't connect, and I found the snippety way of storytelling more confusing than anything. I missed having some kind of explicit narrative arc, and I'm REALLY glad Vanistendael included a family tree in the introductory pages, because otherwise I would have been really confused - the former partner, adult daughter, and current partner of the title character all look fairly similar. The lack of linear storytelling may be a cultural aesthetic thing, though I have definitely connected with work from a variety of European countries in the past. The book is impressive, but not something that grabbed me.
It's also inevitably sad, which wasn't exactly what I needed this month.
A graphic novel about chronic illness? Sign me up. The watercolors in this book do an amazing job at conveying the sudden lack of definition when confronted with dire news from a medical professional. I was never entirely sure about the relationship between some of the characters, but that just felt like the book was forcing me to identify what was important versus what was not when facing David's diagnosis. The juxtaposition between David's reactions and his youngest daughter's really highlight the change in understanding of life and death as a person moves from childhood through adulthood. The silence from David was palpable in the artwork and text, though the ending was a bit puzzling for me, and it made me question if I really understood his relation to the female characters in the story.
De la autora sólo había leído "Sofía y el negro" que me había parecido una obra linda, muy políticamente correcta y ya y tenía pendiente ésta porque trataba de la vivencia de un familiar enfermo (en esta historia de cáncer de laringe) y cómo esto afectaba su entorno cercano (mujer, hijos y hermana). Me ha parecido muy bella, sin ser sensiblera. La narración se articula en base a pequeños momentos de vida familiar, mientras vemos cómo avanza la enfermedad y cómo reacciona cada miembro a ella, hasta su final. El dibujo además me ha parecido muy suelto y muy adecuado a las distintas etapas de la historia. Muy buena.
This is one of the most powerful books I've ever read. The narrative is plain yet feels very real, the panels are simple yet bring the story to life, and the art is minimal yet so incredibly alive. Everyone should read this.
At the library, I am always on the lookout for non-superhero standalone graphic novels and this one stood out to me, not only because it is quite long for a graphic novel at just under 300 pages, but also because the artwork and typography looked interesting.
Cursive typography in a graphic novel can be hit or miss for me depending on the style; in this case all of the text was decipherable so I didn't have any problems with it and it paired really well with the author's illustrations. The illustrations were done in fine ink and watercolour and my favourite parts of the story were the full page images, particularly those that are done in black and white.
Unfortunately I didn't feel as emotional as I thought I would whilst reading this. I don't feel like the author managed to capture as much emotion as was intended and I think that this was exacerbated by the fact that the story was quite disjointed in places. There were aspects of imagination and fantasy but it is mostly grounded in reality. I just don't think that the author really managed to execute the idea as well as it could have been done and although I think that maybe other people could connect to this, I don't think that the topic was explored very well by the end.
Na twee ijzersterke titels als 'Irmina' (2014) en 'Abandon the Old in Tokyo' (2006) valt dit gefragmenteerde soepzooitje een tikkeltje tegen. Het idee is leuk: een collagestructuur waarin verschillende stijlen corresponderen met de subjectieve ervaringen van verschillende gezinsleden, die afzonderlijk én samen worstelen met de nakende kankersterfte van hun pater familias. Het doet wat denken aan de Franse film 'La Guerre Est Déclarée' (2011). Echt warm of koud word ik niet van dit soort autobiografische rouwverwerkingsverhalen, omdat het stiekem vol inzet op identificatie en het vinden van herkenningspuntjes bij de lezer.
'Toen David zijn stem verloor' is een graphic novel over sterven en wat dat doet met de stervende en zijn omgeving. Het verhaal is goed verteld, al blijven er aan het einde flink wat rafelranden over. Vooral prachtig vond ik de gehanteerde ballontruc. De geportretteerde familie voelt zo echt aan dat je bijna denkt dat dit verhaal autobiografisch is. Vanistendael is zondermeer een groot stripkunstenaar al werd ik persoonlijk niet door het verhaal geraakt.
The last pages were a little blurry through my tears. Who knew a graphic novel could so beautifully handle the topic of slowly loosing someone and dealing with the expression of anger and sorrow that comes with it?