Lisa is adopted from Korea. Like most people, she wonders about her background, especially when she herself has children as an adult. It is when she discovers that she has a document containing the names of her biological parents, and another that says she is an orphan and without a background, that Lisa gets the first hint that something is not right with her own adoption. She begins to dig deeper into her own history and finds that it is much more complicated than the one she grew up with. The search takes her back to Korea and the orphanage. The image of adoption as a good deed that gives parents to orphaned children slowly begins to crumble.
Palimpsest is a critical confrontation with a corrupt adoption industry that is depicted through a difficult-to-navigate and at times tumultuous search for roots, and the reflections and heavy memories that are brought to life in the process.
Lisa Wool-Rim Sjöblom is an illustrator, a cartoonist, and a graphic designer living in Auckland, New Zealand, with her partner and two children. She has a master’s degree in literature from Södertörn University and has studied at the Comic Art School in Malmö. Palimpsest is her first graphic novel. She is an adoptee rights activist.
A memoir by a woman who was one of thousands of South Korean adoptees who went to Sweden. She, like most adoptees, was interested in who her parents were, but the issue came to a head when she was herself pregnant. As you may know, the international adoption process is a very complex issue in so many ways, and so reading this story of her successfully contacting her birth mother (which happens to only 3% of those adopted out of South Korea) is interesting and informative and anguished. The process led to her becoming an adoptee advocate. Her artwork is delicate, muted, perhaps a little too dark for me, but appropriate to the emotional tone of the events.
Lisa Wool-Rim Sjöblom’s Palimpsest: Documents from a Korean Adoption is a beautifully rendered graphic memoir of Sjöblom’s yearning and searching for her Korean family. Palimpsest is an uncomfortably personal memoir: reading it felt as if I was staring into Sjöblom’s soul, exposed to some of her deepest emotions. It’s intensely sad and intensely moving. Palimpsest stands with Jennie Heijun Wills’ Older Sister, Not Necessarily Related and Nicole Chung’s All You Can Ever Know: A Memoir as essential and sobering reading for anyone seeking to understand some individual adoption experiences from the perspective of adults who were adopted from Korea or Korean families. Representative? I don’t know. Genuine and important? Absolutely.
I'm so glad I read this one, and enthusiastically recommend this book to fans of graphic memoirs or anyone interested in learning more about adoption, especially international adoption. All You Can Ever Know by Nicole Chung is probably the only book focused on adoption I've read before this one, and I was struck by the parallels in how both women describe the fundamental importance of their "origin myth", as well as their common motivation to search for their birth family which intensified with having children of their own. Sjöblom also begins with her childhood as a trans-racial adoptee, and how her young pride in being Korean is buffeted by the racism she faced constantly growing up in Sweden. Sjöblom's story is personal, but she threads together much research and other adoptee's stories, highlighting commonalities in many of their experiences that are often suppressed. She bemoans that most literature about adoption is created by parents, and that it obfuscate the family tragedy that often underlies stories of adoption, as well as the difficult psychological effect on the children. Her search for her birth family is frustrated by conflicting or missing documentation, and lackluster responsiveness from the organizations that are meant to help. In the process she discovers a lot about illegally performed adoptions, how not all adoptees are properly given up, and how documents are changed intentionally to make kids seem "more adoptable". I learned so much from reading this book, but at the same time it's a touching personal narrative, I'm so grateful to Sjöblom for sharing. Cw for suicide
I bought this as a holiday gift for a friend who is a Korean adoptee (hopefully she doesn't follow me here haha) and made sure to read it before gifting it to her. I wouldn't want to gift a subpar book, but I needn't have worried. It was so good!
I loved the art, which was adorable, emotive, beautifully minimalist, and thoughtfully executed. I appreciated the specific use of color--only the people were colored in (for the most part), the background either line art or spot blacks.
The story of this particular woman's journey was gripping, frustrating, and interesting, filled with both positives and negatives, as any memoir should be. Most importantly, (keep in mind that I've read myriad books and essays about this subject matter, so this is a big deal), this graphic memoir really opened my eyes about the adoptee experience in ways I've not been able to comprehend until now. Wonderfully done.
Palimpsest is the type of memoir that I'm not always comfortable assigning a rating, because it's such a deeply personal accounting of someone's life. I will go with a 4 star simply because I had some issues with the art. At its heart, this is the story of Lisa Wool-Rim Sjöblom's search for the truth behind her adoption, and the depth of emotion and confusion that comes with that search.
I grabbed this from the library on a whim, and I had no real idea what to expect. I suppose I thought it would just be a memoir about an adoptee's life story, but it ended up being SO much more than that. Surprisingly, Lisa's search began to unearth the somewhat shady practices of international adoption, focusing heavily on the fact that she can never find any documents or truth to support anything she's told about it. She and her husband hit brick wall after brick wall of poorly maintained files, and even agencies hiding documents from her to protect themselves. Because "things were done differently back then," don't you know.
The art is very simple, the color palette an almost off-putting drab brown. But in the end the simplicity worked for me. I do wonder if graphic novel format was the best for this...there is so much text, that I think the information could have been given just as easily and just as emotionally in a written memoir. The art itself didn't do much to support the emotion or action taking place, as it is very simple.
Sjöblom does much to try to balance her own emotional journey with the journey of her adoption, and despite there being a ton of text to work though, I think it comes together nicely.
I certainly had no idea of adoption stories like this beyond horror stories that seem so disconnected from my own day to day life that they could be ripped from movie or TV storylines. Palimpsest does great work as an emotional anecdotal story, while also being educational at the same time.
Book blurb: Thousands of South Korean children were adopted around the world in the 1970s and 1980s. More than nine thousand found their new home in Sweden.
I was not aware of the above. Many moons ago we investigated the possibility of adoptions - national and international - but ultimately decided against either for many reasons - one of which was the sheer amount of money involved.
Who are we? Where do we come from? Who do we look like? These are things that those of us who grew up with our birth families take for granted - even resent at times. This Korean author was adopted by a Swedish couple at a very young age, and has struggled with identity her entire life. This graphic memoir is about her personal struggle, as well as her efforts to figure out the facts surrounding her birth parents and history.
That this is gut wrenching for the author is abundantly clear. The art is minimal and cute and I really liked the color palette. I was educated about things I hadn't really thought about, and I appreciated this book for that. There are secrets and lies, and real people's lives are affected as these get uncovered. That this didn't get a higher rating was due to the fact that there are lots of letters/correspondence between the author and Korean agencies as she searches, and after a while I started to skim these. I do think that this would be a beneficial read for both adoptive parents and kids, but the blow by blow - this happened and then that - didn't work as well for me.
Beautifully designed and drawn graphic novel. The true story of an adopted Korean girl raised in Sweden and her journey to find her birth family and roots in Korea. Written with painful honesty about the trauma and difficulties faced by international adoptees, whose stories are often glossed over to sound happy and problem free. Lots to learn here.
Palimpsest är en självbiografisk serie om sökandet efter sitt ursprung som svensk adopterad från Korea. Sjöblom har tidigare gjort kortare serier och illustrerat barnböcker, men detta är hennes första längre serieroman.
Berättelsen är som en emotionellt laddad deckare, i vilken vi får följa Sjöbloms ofta tröstlösa arbete med att försöka reda ut alla lögner som serveras henne av myndigheter som vill undanhålla det faktum att hon som så många andra adopterade faktiskt inte var föräldralös, utan del av den omfattande adoptionsindustrin. Historien inleds då Sjöblom själv blir mamma, en process som återuppväcker alla undertryckta tankar om hennes biologiska föräldrar, och kulminerar i en resa tillbaka till Korea där hon kan intensifiera sökandet efter sin historia och till slut faktiskt får träffa sin biologiska mamma.
Trots alla de svårigheter och den emotionella utmattning som ofta drabbar huvudfiguren, presenteras historien med en positiv grundton som gör den möjlig att ta till sig. Samtidigt är boken fylld med fakta om adoptionsindustrin och är man inte insatt i denna fråga är boken en veritabel ögonöppnare.
Serien är tecknad i en gullig rund stil som kontrasterar till de ofta emotionellt tunga upplevelser som skildras och bilderna återges mot en bakgrund av gultonat papper, troligtvis som en visuell referens till titelns palimpsester, antika dokument där den ursprungliga texten har raderats och en ny skrivits över.
Det här är en av de bästa, starkaste och viktigaste svenska serieromanerna på mycket länge, i det att den ger en röst åt en grupp som ofta annars inte hörs i vårt samhälle. Det sämsta för huvudfiguren själv, och det bästa för oss läsare, är att boken har ett helt öppet slut. Allt som framkommer under Sjöbloms efterforskningar, inklusive mötet med den biologiska mamman, skapar bara fler frågor och det känns som om de kommer att behövas fler böcker innan vi är klara med den här berättelsen.
English: Palimpsest is an autobiographical graphic novel about a Swede who was adopted from Korea searching for her origins. Sjöblom has previously made shorter comics and illustrated children's books, but this is her first full-length graphic novel.
The story reads like an emotionally charged detective story in which we follow Sjöbloms often dreary work trying to sort through all the lies from authorities who want to withhold the fact that she, as so many adoptees actually was not an orphan, but part of the widespread adoption industry. The story begins when Sjöblom herself becomes a mother, a process that raises all suppressed thoughts about her biological parents to the surface, and culminates in a trip back to Korea where she can intensify the search for her history and finally actually gets to meet her biological mother.
Despite all the difficulties and the emotional exhaustion that often affects the main character, the story is presented with a fundamentally positive air, making it possible, even enjoyable to get through. The book is filled with facts about the adoption industry and if you’re not familiar with this subject, it is a veritable eye-opener.
The comics are drawn in a cute rounded style, which contrasts with the often emotionally heavy experiences depicted. The images are shown against a background of yellowed paper, probably as a visual reference to the title Palimpsest, ancient documents in which the original text has been erased and a new overwritten.
This is one of the best, strongest and most important Swedish graphic novels in a long time, as it gives a voice to a group that is often not heard in our society. The worst for the main character, and the best for us readers, is that the book is completely open ended. All that emerges during Sjöblom’s research, including meeting with the biological mother, only creates more questions and it feels as if there is a need for several more books before we're done with this story.
If ever there was a Swedish graphic novel in need of a translation to other languages, then this is it. So, publishers, take note!
My favorite thing to read is graphic memoirs by women and I found this to be a lovely, eye-opening, and painstakingly created addition to that category.
A beautifully drawn story of Korean adoption. The author starts researching her adoption and finds out that everything is lies and she might be a victim of adoption trafficking. The illustrations are a gorgeous, weathered sepia that doesn't quite make sense because all her research is either just online or PDFs of documents from the late '70s, but it looks great. Heartbreaking, of course, but some of her questions end up answered, and it's another story for the Korean government and the adoption agencies to answer for.
One of several books I've read recently written by adult adoptees who went looking for their roots. Each of the authors I'm thinking of grew up in a different country (Jenny Heijun Wills in Canada, Nicole Chung in the U.S., Lisa Wool-Rim Sjöblom in Sweden), but the questions are by and large the same: why and how and what would life have been like if...?
In Palimpsest (a new word for me—'a manuscript or piece of writing material on which later writing has been superimposed on effaced earlier writing; something reused or altered but still bearing visible traces of its earlier form'), Sjöblom chronicles her search for her biological family in Korea. It's a maddening search: every question she asks of various agencies in Korea produces contradictory and often unhelpful results; often, the organisations meant to help people reunite with their families seem to spend their time trying to convince adoptees that that's impossible or unnecessary. Nobody wants to think that, perhaps, adoptees might not be satisfied with an unknown history.
This is graphic memoir, and though I'm not in love with the style of art (personal preference—it's pretty; I just like more detail), it adds a nice layer to the story—fitting, for a palimpsest. Just as Sjöblom's story has been partially redrawn for her, she redraws her own history, or as much of it as she can fill in. For every answer another question, and I can only imagine that there will be more books along these lines as Sjöblom's generation hunts for those answers.
Thoughts: whew! Read in one sitting and it was amazing. This young woman is trying to trace her roots like so many of us these days. Though hers have a twist in them. She is a Korean who was adopted to a Swedish couple in the 1970s. The governmental runaround and outright lying she gets is incredible. When she finally meets her birth mother and the DNA results support it, her mother decides she doesn't want any more contact. What's in the past that everyone is covering up? It seems like everyone has something a bit different to hide and each story Lisa gets leads her off on another false path. She has one good friend in all of this mess. And her husband is totally supportive. And she's involved in FB groups. But her frustration, anger, and her pain stand out loud and clear through this heartbreaking graphic memoir. It was an interesting form for a memoir to take, but it really made it so interesting and more easily followed with the adorable cartoon characters. The style and the color palette worked well together to deliver the message in just the right tone. Highly recommended.
En otroligt gripande skildring om att som adopterad söka sina rötter, om hur illegal adoption gör barn lättare att adoptera bort och hur adoptionsbyråkratin försvårar återföreningar. Helt ärligt, jag fick bokstavligen ont i magen av att läsa det här albumet med tanke på alla lögner och otroligt frustrerande situationer som adopterade måste genomleva i sitt sökande.
This reminds me of One Child Nation, a documentary about the one child policy in China. In the documentary, they also sell Chinese babies for adoption overseas, and there's a part of the film showing a couple (in Utah) helping adoptees find their birth families if they want. Lots of secrecy, amd government colluding in these international adoption stories.
Although Palimpsest is about S. Korea - it was nearly identical. It was so frustrating to see all the obstacles that Lisa endured (both socially but also institutionally) and I really wanted a "happy ending" for her.
But international adoption is complicated, and is made more so by government agencies hiding, former employees dying or lying, blood family not wanting to be found/talked to, etc.
It's a great (and lengthy) graphic novel that I highly recommend you check out.
And I hope to find more books (fiction and non-fiction) that talks about the experiences of adoptees (ownvoices only!).
This unique and gorgeous graphic memoir was one of my favourite reads of 2020. I love her style of drawing characters, and the cover is one of the most brilliant layered pieces of art I've ever seen. The title "Palimpsest" is such a perfect name for the layers that Lisa uncovers as she searches for identity as a Korean adoptee. Loved following the story, the attention to detail, and the accurate depiction of what search and reunion can really look like for adopted people.
This was a difficult read. I seem to choose a lot of those, but not necessarily on purpose. I didn't know what I was getting myself into with this one, but I knew it'd be enlightening. Lisa Wool-Rim Sjöblom was born in South Korea and adopted by a family in Sweden. She dealt with a lot of pain because of this. She flips the perspective on adoption, because so much of the material available is from the point of view of experts or parents of adoptees, rather than the adoptees themselves. Many adoptees are abused physically and emotionally, and sometimes even killed by their adoptive parents. Luckily, hers were good ones. Despite this, she still struggled to feel accepted or at home in Sweden, and she had no knowledge of who her biological parents really were. Her struggle was made worse by racism and difficulty finding validation for her feelings, which pushed her to even attempt suicide.
The book tells the story of her journey to find out what really happened to her and why, as well as her first time going back to South Korea to find people and places from before she left. The book delves into great detail, often replicating adoptive forms and email correspondence, as well as the exploration of all that individuals and agencies did to cover up the truth. Wool-Rim Sjöblom shines a light on the corruption and negligence that hid her past from her and her existence from her biological family, and it's heartbreaking. There are moments of great joy, too. When breakthroughs reveal information she's sought her whole life, or when she experiences eating Korean home-cooked meals, it warmed my heart. Palimpsest may not always be a fun read, but it's a beautiful and important one. I've considered adopting one day, and this book has been a great resource for helping me understand what adoptees go through and why their feelings and desires are so important. Not all adoptees want to know their pasts, but if they do, they deserve to be given everything they want. We are all looking to find a place where we feel that we belong, and some are presented with great hurdles to make this even more difficult. Let's try to understand them and provide a welcoming environment, even if it may not always be enough.
For those who are interested in memoirs, understanding others' life experiences, as well as seeing unique, personal art. Not for those who are looking for comics that are only art and dialogue driven (there is a lot of documentation replicated on full-page spreads).
I have more respect for this book's straightforward honesty and openness than I do its form and success as a graphic novel.
I grew up always thinking largely without much critical awareness that adoption is a great good in society, and I didn't have much patience with criticizing what seemed to me an altogether amazingly selfless act of taking in a child and raising him or her as your own, at great expense, at great personal sacrifice. I appreciate this book for deeply exploring the complex emotions of adoptees who may resent many aspects of the adoption process, of losing their histories, of being disrespected and alienated and shouted down for their own felt experiences. And also I appreciate the book for exploring the real corruption, lies, and confusion--all the covering up from the companies and groups operating the adoption agencies and related services in Korea.
The story is about the author's own experiences of trying to figure out her history, having been adopted by white parents from Sweden under initially mysterious circumstances from South Korea. There is a lot of intrigue and pathos to be had while slowly following her experiences as she finds out her background, and the astonishing number of lies and half-truths and obfuscation she has to parse to get at what really happened to her. The read is quite emotional and eye-opening.
I just don't think it works very well as a comic. The art is... not very satisfying. Not that it's necessarily too simple, though that sometimes bothered me, but the characters have a very limited range of emotions/expressions, and I often felt that the expressions didn't match well with whatever the characters should have been feeling in the moment. HUGE portions of the book are just narration and long conversations and full pages of text transcribing letters. I kept wondering why this was created as a comic--it seems like it would have functioned better as a memoir.
Still, I do think it's worth reading just to get that often overlooked adoptee perspective missing from many stories of this ilk. This book helped me to see with more compassion, and that is worth a lot.
This book introduced me to a lot of things I'd never thought about and I'm thankful for that. It re-framed adoption in a way I'd never considered, as an act of imperialism and white saviorism in so many words (and of course that is complicated and nuanced by also loving one's adoptive parents, while always longing for inclusion in one's culture of origin). A personal and emotional journey of a Korean adopted child who was raised in Sweden and searches through much bureaucracy and dead ends to find her birth-parents. It's a complicated story with lots of emotion and exploration of identity and lineage.
Memoir/detective story about a Korean adoptee growing up in Sweden & then looking for her birth family. The first part of the book is about the difficulties of growing up as an Asian adoptee in a racist society. The rest of the book is about the author & her partner’s sleuthing to find her birth family & to find the circumstances of her adoption. This memoir is intense & pretty scathing of the institution international adoption.
A beautiful graphic memoir of a Swedish Korean Adoptee’s unfortunately common transracial experience. It shares personal difficulties and reveals the obscene corruption of the adoption industry. Would make a great gift.
I wrote a full and complete review, and then managed to delete it. So here goes again.
This is an important story and reminder that adoption is a complex and complicated issue. The author is Korean, adopted by a Swedish family. She talks about a happy enough early childhood, but by her teens was feeling increasingly alienated in her adoptive country. The isolation and loneliness combined with her intense drive to find out information about her own past led her to briefly search for her birth parents. Faced with a complete stonewall, Lisa attempted suicide, which is plainly depicted in the story: she tried to hang herself. The story does not go into how she survived, but cuts directly, abruptly, awkwardly to a completely different part of the story. It was a jarring moment.
Lisa gives up her search for a time, until she is pregnant with her first child and has no source of family medical history. Thus begins a second search for her past, and she continues to face thick obfuscation, denials, and conflicting information. But she comes to this search with a little more experience and a little more support and through determined perseverance she begins to find some answers.
One of the main themes is the conflict between how adoptees are supposed to feel and how they actually feel. The presumption of gratitude is overwhelming. They are supposed to feel lucky that they ended up in a stable, loving family, and by all impressions, the author did end up in a stable and loving situation, with decent parents and an adoptive brother.* But feeling lucky or fortunate does not eliminate the reality that in order for the current situation to manifest, there was at some point the loss of an entire family, and that comes with the weight of grief. And that is the weight that Lisa's search seeks to ease. Her unflinching acknowledgement of her loss, the existence of this phantom family, and the lack of satisfaction even as she gets some answers is a revealing reminder that Gratitude is not the end of the story.
I hope that Lisa can continue to build on her relationship with her birth family. I hope that she continues to forge connections with her Korean heritage. I hope that she has (and continues to have) a loving and open relationship with her adoptive family. In the ongoing discussions of what makes a family and what makes a RIGHT family (is it mom, dad, kids? two stable parents? a network of friends? step-family? extended family? birth or adoption or chosen family?), this is indeed an important story to incorporate into the mix. Personally I think there is no right family. It would be very neat and legally concise if every family was simply a mom and a dad and kids, and everyone stayed together and was loved. But family has never been that tidy and I deeply appreciate the author's willingness to share her story.
*Her adoptive brother is barely mentioned. And while I would have loved to hear his story as well as the way her adoptive parents felt about all this, none of their stories are directly relevant to this particular tale. So I understand why they are missing, and I think the laser focus on Lisa's search is important.
this graphic novel meant so much to me. i don't think i can adequately describe in words how deeply this book affected me, but i'll try.
from a young age, i think i've always known that if i wanted to find my birth parents i would have to wait until i was fully independent and no longer living at home. and for a while i didn't want to search because my life was already so turbulent.
lisa wool-rim candidly portrays her mental health struggles + subsequent hospitalizations, the complexities of navigating your relationships with your adoptive and biological families, the frustrations of dealing with government agencies in the pursuit of answers that very well may be lost to time and buried with the bodies of the dead, and overall she highlights the raw emotions and raw yearning to feel like you are home and wholly accepted and seen and your presence melds into a background of the scenery, unquestioned.
i loved this graphic novel. it wasn't an easy read, but it was worth it.
more than anything, it has encouraged me to actually search for my birth parents later in life.
i was watching everything everywhere all at once with my friends a couple nights ago, and i cried the hardest i've cried. these lines really got me,
"I am no longer willing to do to my daughter what you did to me. How did you let me go? How on earth did you do it so easily? It’s okay if you can’t be proud of me. Because I finally am. You may see in her all of your greatest fears squeezed into one person. I spent most of her childhood praying she would not end up like me. But she turned out to be stubborn, aimless, a mess. Just like her mother. But now I see it’s okay that she’s a mess. Because just like me the universe gave her someone kind, patient, and forgiving to make up for all she lacks.
I FUCKING WAILED. because i think for the first time in a while, i've been thinking really deeply about my first mother, my bio mom. i didn't immediately think about the issues between me and my adoptive mom. no, instead without even fully processing it, my body received these words with the full visceral impact only the so-called "primal wound" - family separation - can conjure and it hit SO HARD.
i ended up walking back to brecon from erdman in the pouring rain because i wanted to sob more so badly and only the rain could cover that up for me.
again, i can't fully express how meaningful this book was for (and i truly mean it because lisa's story is fuckingterrible and if my birth mom did that to me it would be joever for me and i wouldn't have the energy to do anything let alone write and illustrate a whole ass graphic novel) and i am grateful for interlibrary loan for affording me this opportunity to finally read this.
The good: A graphic memoir by a transracial, international adoptee, this should be required reading for anyone considering international adoption at a minimum. Sjöblom was born in South Korea, adopted as a toddler by a Swedish couple, and grew up with her South Korean-adopted older brother in primarily-homogeneous Sweden, dealing with micro- and macro-aggressions of racism and the assumption that she must be, and act, grateful to her parents for "rescuing" her.
While she tries as a teen and meets a wall, it's not until adulthood, after her marriage and the birth of her children, that she finds any measure of success getting information about her origins. What she finds is a trail of lies, lost paperwork, agencies that give her the runaround, and even, eventually, a biological mother who seems to have little understanding or appreciation of the damage and trauma Sjöblom has from being cut off from the most basic information: her ancestry (both cultural and medical).
The fact that it's nigh impossible for Sjöblom to get her hands on accurate documents, and that it becomes clear that at multiple levels in South Korea (and the adoption agency) there was a literal business in children being sold, is horrifically fascinating. Sjöblom's anger is clearly well-justified, and the fact that her story does not fit the mold of feel-good adoption is all the more reason to read it.
The less-good: That said, the specific style of this graphic novel sometimes works against it. Sjöblom's style is broad, round and undetailed. This can work well considering the large amount of text in the book (more on that in a minute), but it also mutes the emotion. I often had difficulty discerning what emotion people were expressing if the text didn't make it clear. Many people are also drawn extremely similarly, and by the halfway point, I had to rely on the text to tell me who the majority of characters were.
Unlike many other reviewers, I actually liked the sepia tone to the drawings. To me, it added a heaviness that mirrored what Sjöblom was emotionally experiencing throughout. However, this is a text-heavy book, which can be hard to take in in graphic format. The font, a pseudo-handwritten style, is decently legible, but the font size is right on the border of "too small." I feel like it may have worked better to intersperse the drawings with a couple paragraphs of actual text, in a graphic-novel/book hybrid a la Hyperbole and a Half. It would still be a graphic novel, but that format would allow for many of the text-heavy sections to be easier to read and follow, and may also have allowed some narrative writing that would help prop up the muted art.
When adoption is being talked about, we always see the perspective of the adoptive parents. How noble it is that they’re trying to give a supposed “parentless” child a new life. And how unfortunate it is that its biological parents are unable to give it the life it deserves because of unfortunate circumstances. In this patriarchal society, it’s considered shameful and pitiful that a couple is unable to bear children that they resort to this, and adoptive parents almost conceal — erase — this fact, and pretend that the children are theirs. We often hear of their stories, of their unselfish, noble decision to adopt. But we never hear anything about how this impacts adoptees.
Palimpsest offers a perspective though. It tells the story of graphic artist Lisa Wool-Rim Sjöblom and her search for her roots. She was internationally adopted by Swedish parents, and this graphic memoir (novel??) narrates her experiences with institutions that invalidate an adoptee’s experience. It exposes the corruption of the adoption world, and it also presents a reality that not all reunions are happy.
Reading this memoir made me emotional. It must have been difficult for Lisa to go through what she went through, for feeling empty and incomplete because of not knowing her past or where she came from. I commend her strength and her perseverance to forge on despite the bureaucracies and the lies to know about her origin. Moreso of her determination to tell her story, to raise awareness about adoptees’ experience with the corrupt adoption system. She advocates for truthfulness and integrity in these adoption processes, and she fights for the adoptees and their right to know their origins — their birthplaces and their biological parents.
Adoption is not supposed to be a business, it should be a way to help humans navigate changing societal expectations and connect separated lives.
This heart-rending graphic novel shares the author's story about her struggle for identity as a Korean adoptee in Sweden, and the challenges that she faced as she tried to uncover the truth about her background and find her birth mother. The simple, sepia-toned illustrations and text support each other well, and the graphic novel format helps to convey the author's depth of emotion. I really appreciated this, and am glad that I had the chance to read it.
This book shows how many hoops she and her partner had to jump through to get information about her past, and exposes the truth about child trafficking within international adoptions. It is incredible how many layers of secrets and lies she had to deal with through the organizations that were supposed to be helping her, and I would definitely recommend this to adoptees with similar backgrounds, and to parents who are considering adoption and need to be aware of the ethical issues associated with international adoption and be prepared to vet the agencies that they work with.
This book is similar, in many ways, to Nicole Chung's memoir, All You Can Ever Know, but they also have significant differences in terms of the author's cultural backgrounds, life experiences, and discoveries about their families of origin. I would recommend both of these books to anyone who is interested in international adoption, and hope that as the conversation shifts from only elevating the voices of adoptive parents, more and more adoptees will be able to write publicly about their experiences.
I really learned so much about the dark side of international adoption and the issues that international adoptees face (and then are silenced about) through this graphic memoir. Sjöblom doesn’t hit you over the head with it but rather her personal narrative conveys this experience in an engaging and straightforward manner. As this memoir specifically followed Sjöblom’s search for her Korean birth parents, it also struck a deep chord for me as a Korean American—I got to see more about how Korea’s war-torn history plays a big role in illegal adoption and how it continues to uphold modern neocolonialism as well.
I love how in graphic novels, you can get a sense of the author’s voice not just through their writing but their illustration style as well, and I enjoyed Sjöblom’s art. I thought the novel was well-translated from the original Swedish into English, and it looks like the author and her husband themselves did participate in the translation.
I don’t have much to say except this is a must read graphic novel especially if you’re interested in international adoption.
I’m so appreciative that Sjöblom shared her story and how many decades it took her to find out anything about herself.
A lot of the narratives surrounding adoption praise the parents who are taking in “unwanted” children but fail to factor in what life is like when these kids are ripped away from their cultures and any ties they may have. AND don’t even get me started on how frequently illegal international adoptions STILL occur to this day.
It’s very nuanced and I think it’s important to read stories like these. Adoptees stories need to be heard.