Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me

by Lorina Mapa

When she learns of her beloved father's fatal car accident, Mapa flies to Manila to attend his funeral. His sudden death sparks childhood memories. Weaving the past with the present, Mapa entertains with stories about religion, pop culture, adolescence, social class and politics, including her experiences of the 1986 People Power Revolution which made headlines around the world. It is a love letter to her parents, family, friends, country of birth, and in the end, perhaps even to herself. 

Genres: Graphic Novels, Memoir, Comics, Nonfiction, History, Graphic Novels Comics, Historical

140 pages, Paperback

First published September 12, 2017

Reviews

[Dave Schaafsma · Rating 3 out of 5]

Filipino Canadian Lorina Mapa pens a very interesting graphic memoir prompted by the death of her father, which led her back from Canada to Manila, and a flood of reminiscences about her life there and its culture. It’s also a father-daughter love story, a tribute to him with anecdotes of the times they had together, but the most enduring part of the story for me is her stories of the 1986 People Power Revolution/EDSA where we read about the fall of Marcos, which was a kind of bloodless revolution, an endorsement of democracy. These stories are artfully balanced with Mapa’s stories of crushes on movie actors and singers like Sting, but I really wanted more about the political struggles, especially from her view.

I have this week read two books about the eighties (the other is My Best Friend’s Exorcism) that have as its soundtrack eighties pop music. Mapa includes a playlist/discography for you to listen to as you read the book. The Tears for Fears album The Hurting. Duran Duran. Madonna. Sting.

Some details are cute/funny: Her father lets her buy Playboy bunny tsinelas because she like rabbits. A weird set of theories about "Why religion hasn't turned Filipinos into angry, scary fundamentalists" (she claims that one factor is that the Virgin Mary is embraced in this Roman Catholic country; another is “Filipinos Just Wanna Have Fun” Is this a class-based set of ideas?)

The art is simple enough and the story of her upper middle class family is interesting, an insight into Filipino eighties history and culture.

[Kim · Rating 1 out of 5]

SOOOOO many opportunities to acknowledge her class and economic privilege, but all Mapa does is wallow in self pity; uphold damaging cultural and religious stereotypes that are simply unacceptable... there is no evidence of any critical engagement with the historical or cultural experiences, moments, traditions she includes.
This is an unsettlingly dogmatic and arrogant piece of work. An alternate title could be: Princess Uncrowned: The World No Longer Revolves Around Me As It Did When My Dad Was Alive.
And what woman mentions Ghomeshi in a 2017 publication without ANY nuance, any mention of the man’s numerous sexual assault charges? It doesn’t matter to her because it wasn’t her, just like her Islamophobic imagery and accusations.
I’m actually disgusted that I read the book to the end. I stupidly thought she’d eventually note her privilege, her lack of awareness, her arrogance of youth. But this was written from an adult perspective, reflecting. If any self reflection were to have occurred, it would have in the moments of memory.
This book is xenophobic to the extreme and unapologetically steeped in privilege. I don’t know why anyone would want to publish it and be associated with such shit.
Hideous. I have no patience for this kind of crap.

[Manybooks · Rating 3 out of 5]

In her 2017 young adult comic book memoir Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me, Filipina Canadian author and illustrator Lorina Mapa (in a first person narrative) describes her return to Manila, to her childhood home to attend her father’s funeral (with Mapa's father having been killed in a car accident and the family is arriving from far and wide, from both the Philippines and abroad to say goodbye). And during her flight with her husband and oldest son from Montreal to Manila and also upon arrival in the Philippines, Lorina Mapa is immersed both by her past and also by the present, so that Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me moves back and forth in time, showing and telling not just about Mapa's childhood and adolescence, not just about her own life/family, Filipino culture, history and the 1986 Fernando Marcos/Corazon Aquino “Snap Election” and its resultant People Power Revolution but also showing in the present tense that Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me is an homage, is Lorina Mapa saying not just goodbye to her father but also showing how much he meant and still means to her, how her father's love made her the person she is now (and with Mapa's past coming back to her with the rhythms of the 1980s pop songs she grew up with, from groups like Duran Duran and which is of course why the book title is Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me).

Now with Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me being both emotionally heartrending and joyous at the same time, showing vivid personal (in other words autobiographical) recollections of food, matriarchy, family, politics and with Mapa's simple but expressive artwork nostalgically reminding me of the illustrative style of Hergé (of Tintin fame), albeit I kind of wish that like Hergé, Lorina Mapa's pictures could be in full colour, yes indeed, much of Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me has been a pretty delightful both textual and visual reading experience for me (and one that with the directness of comic books equally introduces a rather complex history and culture with which many Canadians and many Americans would likely be unfamiliar or at least not all that familiar).

But just to say (and why my rating for Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me can only be three stars) that I must and do readily admit feeling extremely uncomfortable (as a person of German background) reading in Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me how Lorina Mapa's grandmother was jokingly called "der Führer" by her family and how this is simply shown both textually and illustratively by Mapa in Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me without any self reflection, without any even remote criticism and possible condemnation (as this to and for me really does tend to feel like a trivialisation of the horrors of Nazism and is also something that I have repeatedly and strangely experienced at university while I was doing my PhD, during conversations with international students from India, Pakistan and indeed also the Philippines, namely that they basically had no idea and concept regarding the true horrors of the Holocaust and often thought that Adolf Hitler was either someone with a strong personality to emulate and to even and cringingly celebrate or rather a joke, as some kind of strange and laughable clown figure), and not to mention that Lorina Mapa's long and drawn out musings in Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me concerning the cult of the Virgin Mary and that according to her, there is not a lot of extremist misogyny present in the Philippines because of this, well, this all and certainly feels rather strange, rather unacademic to and for me (not something I have despised, but something that feels a bit tacked on and one kind of wonders for what reason Mapa has even decided to include her thoughts about the Virgin Mary in Duran Duran, Imelda Marcos, and Me).

[Skye Kilaen · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this memoir, which begins when Mapa learns her beloved father has passed away. She travels from Cana back to her childhood home in Manila for the funeral, which prompts memories of her childhood. Mapa does a great job weaving together and balancing personal and family memories with recollections of the 1986 revolution that overthrew Ferdinand Marcos and re-established democracy in the Philippines. Her art is clean and expressive, and her storytelling style had me completely absorbed.

[Teri Pardue · Rating 4 out of 5]

Months ago, my sister alerted me to the upcoming release of this book. I have had it sitting in my Amazon cart just waiting for it to come out. It was worth the wait!

Lorina Mapa has created a beautiful, haunting memoir. It connects her father's death in the recent past, with her growing up in the Philippines in the 80s (during the Marcos regime and subsequent EDSA revolution).

This book has some laugh-out-loud moments. Showering with a tabo and buying playboy bunny tsinelas are things that will give any Philippines dweller a good giggle. Her "Why religion hasn't turned Filipinos into angry, scary fundamentalists" theories are irreverent and hilarious.

However, the true treasure within this book is its retelling of the revolution. It swells with hope and the miracles that happen when millions of people join together to rise up against injustice, even at the risk of their own lives. The way Mapa intertwines it with her home-going for her father's funeral had me in tears multiple times. And with no natural chapter breaks, I found myself unable to stop reading, until my eyes hurt and my forehead throbbed from staying up too late and crying.

Even though I was only three years old when Marcos was overthrown, and 80s pop culture is a bit before my time, I felt ywaves of nostalgia and a connection with Mapa's experience. A true delight for anyone who loves the Philippines and has - or does - call its soil home.

"This could be as close as the 20th century has come to the storming of the Bastille. But what's remarkable is how little violence there has been. We Americans like to think that we taught Filipinos democracy - well tonight, they're teaching the world." - Bob Simon Anchorman CBS News

[Barbara · Rating 2 out of 5]

I just started reading this; I'm on page 43. Some thoughts. I know memory does not work in a linear fashion, so I will concede that the narrative meanders because of memory. Memory itself is subjective, so the kind of over-simplicity and sentimentality Mapa writes towards the beginning of the narrative, I want to attribute to that subjectivity, and maybe also to the fact that this work is directed at younger readers.

There's this section I am currently reading, about why the Philippines is not misogynistic, and it has to do with Filipinos' worship of the Virgin Mary. I want to say this is the narrator's voice as a young person, but I really don't think it is. I find this section troubling. Other readers I see have said this section is baffling. Why is it here. I find her stereotyping of others' cultures also troubling.

I am pushing through. I will be teaching this text in the next week.

[Rod Brown · Rating 3 out of 5]

This memoir is about the childhood of a woman who grew up in an upper class, politically-connected family in the Philippines during the fall of the Marcos regime in the 1980s. As the title suggests, as a kid she was obsessed with English and American pop music. Being fairly close to her in age, I was into a lot of the same music and remember being mildly aware of the political developments in the Philippines. The 80s retro stuff is a fun way to offset the drier historical bits.

It was interesting to revisit the fall of Marcos from the perspective of someone closer to the events, but at the same time the author also seems distant from them, as she was just a child at the time, a child of privilege at that, who left the Philippines shortly after Ferdinand and Imelda did to live in North America and only tell this story decades later from Canada. (It reminds me of Such a Lovely Little War: Saigon 1961-63 in that way.)

Also, though it wasn't in the mission statement of this graphic memoir, it feels odd that no mention was made of the recent political developments in the Philippines, especially since they seem to contrast so starkly to the nature of the Philippine people as illustrated in this book. This is a good book, but I was hoping for more insight into a country I should know more about.

[Princess Banana of Bananaland · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was interesting but I found it hard to empathize with someone who’s from a haciendero/politico family...

[Masha · Rating 3 out of 5]

The title of this book is totally misleading. When you see that the author put the name of the band first, you think that most of the plot will be taken by music, and politics will come second. The truth is that the core of the story is politics and the People Power Revolution. There is music in the text but it takes about 2-3 pages in the middle and some in the end, when the author finds peace with herself and comes back to her roots, but it is really not enough for the book which title makes you focus on the musical part of it. Also I didn't like the writing much - all political events are given in a very simple this is black / this is white style, but I guess it's because the story is given by then teenage Lorina Mapa, so her today's peers would understand it.
Anyway, I enjoyed this graphic novel in general, it was interesting to learn something about Philippines, the country which I previously associate only with a thousand pairs of Imelda Marcos's shoes & tourism (sad but true). I will gladly continue reading Filipino authors and discovering this country via literature.

[Raina · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was great!

#ownvoices GN memoir about growing up in the Philippines in the 1980s. Memorably features the political activism/movements of the era. Also goes into her current life in the USA, and relationships with her siblings.

Varying panel composition, grayscale illustration.

Read with:
Darkroom: A Memoir in Black and White (immediately came to mind)
Marzi
The Best We Could Do
Fatherland: A Family History by Nina Bunjevac
Dare to Disappoint: Growing Up in Turkey
...among others from my "graphic-memoir" shelf

[Rasmenia Massoud · Rating 2 out of 5]

The title of this one is really misleading. While it is about growing up in 1980s Philippines during the revolution, it doesn't much get into the pop culture of the time. And I guess Imelda Marcos is in the title just because her and her gross shoe collection were so notable. The story is not about Imelda Marcos specifically, but she gets a mention or two.

Most of the scenes in the middle of the book illustrating the revolution and how the citizens fought to elect Corazon Aquino after tiring of a dictatorship under Marcos are interesting enough. It's disappointing that the author didn't mention the political climate in the Philippines at the time of her writing the book and instead gives off a "and the country lived happily ever after" vibe.

And maybe this is just me, but I'm more interested in how dictatorships and revolutions impact people who do not have servants. There are sections where this uncle was a famous actor and this other relative was a fancy heiress lady and ugh I don't care. There were a few other bits here and there that just rubbed me the wrong way. Like how her culture does religion right, everyone else gets it wrong and states that her friend is a good person and proves this by explaining how Friend was always more polite to servants than other kids.

She does later begin to delve into depression and the processing of grief, but it feels rushed through and ultimately like a missed opportunity. But, hey... this is her first graphic novel. It's hard to hit a home run on the first try.

[Barbara M. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Die Verwebung der Zeitgeschichte mit der eigenen Biographie hat mich sehr überzeugt. EineSeite der ansonsten in Schwarzweiß gehaltenen Graphic Novel setzt eine weitere Farbe ein - schaut Euch den Effekt an!

[Alexis · Rating 4 out of 5]

A lovely bio-graphic novel about a Filipina woman's childhood. Her father dies, and she goes back into her memories, and describes growing up in the 1980s under Ferdinand Marcos. This is a moving and beautiful graphic novel. I really enjoyed it.

It was a bit uneven, but still worth reading.

[Ava (jeepneylit) · Rating 3 out of 5]

According to the psychology of grief, no two people will experience the death of a loved one in the same way. How individuals express their pain depends upon a number of factors including their personality, the circumstances surrounding the death, and the way they view the world (Morris, 2011). As narrated in the last few pages of the book, writing this graphic memoir was part of Mapa’s grieving process.

It is fascinating to read a first-person account about one of the most important events in Philippine history, including her descriptions of family members who loyally supported the Marcos regime. Sadly, this does not differ much from the politics of the present day that divide our societies (and even some households) around the world.

However, as a researcher, I disagree with Mapa’s theories on “why religion hasn’t turned Filipinos into angry, scary fundamentalists? (1) The Virgin Mary is huge in the Philippines; (2) Religion is based on guilt, not fear; (3) Filipinos just wanna have fun.”

It has been written that long before the Philippines was colonized by Spain, the country already followed a matriarchal system, where women inherited property, were religious leaders, and even joined the armed forces as combatants. This changed when the Spaniards came and shaped the Filipina image into a meek and submissive individual, which cast a long shadow combined with elements of the Catholic Church that contributed to misogyny and homophobia. In her defense, Mapa clarified that some of her theories are “completely unscientific, unproven, and unresearched” and I for one would be interested to discuss these theories with the author.

[Aian · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5 stars -- lots of mixed feelings when i finally read Mapa's memoir.. almost didn't finish but i had been looking forward to borrowing this for a while now so i pushed through

as a Filipinx American whose mom & family immigrated from the Philippines to escape Marcos dictatorship before the escalation in the 80s, i was excited to hear from someone who grew up during that time. i had no idea the whole story was created because of her grief. i'm glad she shared her experience navigating grief after her dad's passing & turned it into this book which is great but for me, it didn't hit

her writing & storytelling was a little all over the place (which could be connected with memory & grief). personally, i was disappointed that she married a white man. she also never really acknowledges her class privilege throughout.

i believe this is geared for young adults but a lot of the references would be challenging to understand especially for younger generations. i was a 90s kid so i knew some of the bands but overall i had to search up things or just read past sections

some sections were weird esp when she compared the Philippines to other countries. for ex. how the Philippines is a matriarch & doesn't hold misogyny like other countries (which is FALSE, i know hella Filipinos who uphold patriarchy & oppress women) & she holds anti-Arab sentiments by commenting "why" while pointing at people wearing burqas (really didn't need this)

[Suketus · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sympaattinen sarjakuvaelämäkerta, joka alkaa Lorinan saamasta suruviestistä: rakas isä on kuollut. Lorina lähtee kotimaahansa Filippiineille järjestelemään hautajaisia ja tapaamaan perhettä ja sukua. Samalla surutyö vaatii oman osansa ja hän käy läpi omaa ja kotimaansa historiaa. Henkilökohtaisen ja yleisen yhdistäminen toimii ja aihepiiri (Filippiinien sisäpolitiikka ja kuohunta 1980-luvulla) oli minulle uusi ja kiinnostava. Piirrosjälki ei vain aivan miellyttänyt silmääni, mistä syystä lukukokemus jäi latteammaksi.

[Jessica Loomis · Rating 1 out of 5]

I had no emotional connection to this book. In parts, it felt like an informational piece about the end of the Marcos dictatorship. The story about the characters and family fell flat for me, and her character seemed rather flat and adolescent, even though she's an adult. She does little of meaning to address her power and privilege, and I felt bored while reading a lot of it, honestly. There were no meaningful references to how music can liberate us and the power of art--instead, the title feels like name dropping.

I totally agree with the reviews about the problematic upholding of stereotypes that oversimplify the oppression under Marcos and the coup that ousted him. According to her, the coup was peaceful because Marcos was Filipino and therefore less blood thirsty than dictators of other nationalities and ethnicities. Instead of recognizing nuance, it's brushed off as a cultural stereotype. There's also some appalling Islamophobic imagery--it's really baffling that it was published without the publisher demanding a rewrite.

[Jobelle · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is why representation matters: I can’t imagine if a more diverse group of Filipinos had been the editors, publishers, and critics, that this would have been pushed out as it was. Any Filipino would have recognized how this author’s family is in the 1% of 1% of Filipinos. The author never seems to acknowledge her privilege, and though I understand this is a memoir, non-Filipino readers seem to be taking this as representative of our culture. It's as if one of the Kennedys wrote a memoir and teachers and readers all around took this as representative of American history and culture, rather than a very slim look into the lives of the country's most privileged. Even though this is a memoir, the author herself doesn't speak just for herself, and instead talks about Filipinos broadly. That's the problem with a lack of representation in authors of color in general. Everyone jumps on what little there is and hails it as much more than what it can actually represent.

[Mara · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was excited to read this one but chose not to finish it. Between the racist and Islamophobic image of exaggeratedly angry-faced men drawn on page 38 as the author discussed Catholicism in the Philippines and stated, “Given these levels of devotion in our country, one would assume we are made up of scary religious fundamentalists like those found in the Bible Belt or the Middle East,” along with the comparison of the Philippines as a matriarchal society and drawing women wearing nikabs as oppressed women on the next page, this book proved to be a disappointment. With so few books centered on Filipino experiences, it’s truly a shame to see this author spewing these ideas. Absolute garbage.

[ashley marie · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was so excited to read this memoir, especially coming from a Filipino women’s perspective. However, I was shocked to read some of her views, and a lot of her privilege and xenophobia seeped through. I can’t believe how casual her xenophobia was in implying that Muslim countries are misogynistic due to women wearing burkas. I had to immediately put it down. I couldn’t believe what was being said!

[Earl · Rating 4 out of 5]

This young adult graphic novel memoir has her coming to terms with her father's death and recounting her life growing up in the Philippines during the People Power Revolution, the powerful nonviolent movement to oust a dictator from power. (I should look for a book to learn more about that historic event myself.)

[ElphaReads · Rating 4 out of 5]

Even though my high school history classes were assuredly more expansive than other high school history curriculums (aka we did spend a good amount of time on non-Western histories), I really didn't know much about the history of the Philippines when I saw the book DURAN DURAN, IMELDA MARCOS, AND ME by Lorina Mapa. But I did know that I like Duran Duran, as New Wave is my JAM! I mean, sure, I knew about Imelda Marcos and her shoes, but not much else. So I was interested to check this one out to educate myself, and potentially get some fun New Wave references.

In the mid 2000s, Lorina Mapa returned to the Philippines for her father's funeral. She had been very close to her family while growing up in the 70s and 80s, and came of age during the People's Revolution, when Marcos was ousted from his dictatorship. Mapa tells the story of her coming of age along with the backdrop of a turbulent political time.

I really liked this graphic memoir. Not only was it very relatable with some sweet, funny, and poignant stories about Mapa's childhood, it also did a really good job of putting the societal context of the Marcos regime at the time. It was striking to see that Mapa had so many fond memories had 'normal' childhood experiences in spite of the fact that she was living during a very nasty dictatorship (something that I think about more and more these days). I also felt like I learned a lot about the history of the country during this time, and once AGAIN how the U.S. completely allowed these horrible injustices to happen because it was politically advantageous to us to do so. The family story too was very lovely, bittersweet but lovely at the same time. And yes, so many awesome pop culture references that I greatly enjoyed (I too had many of the same movie star obsessions of the GOlden Age of Hollywood that Mapa did. Cary Grant was SO swoonworthy). And finally, the artwork is very unique and feels like it has it's own personal style.

I really liked DURAN DURAN, IMELDA MARCOS, AND ME. It's a family story as much as it's the story of revolution.

[Kenneth Cardenas · Rating 1 out of 5]

Very tiresome, very vain account of personal privilege. I was waiting for some personal reckoning of how families like hers were part of the problem, and remain part of the problem. Never happened. All I learned was that people with immense privilege have feelings too. Anastasia in the tropics. Or in the diaspora. Cool, I guess,,,

There's an interesting story that could have been told here, sure. I would like to read how the folks on the other side of the subdivision walls live and think. But I get the sense the author wasn't willing to do the harder work. Why pry harder into one's own contradictions, when it's easier to take cheap shots at other cultures?

For readers hoping for a memoir that actually offers a vivid account of life during those hard years, look elsewhere. Maybe look for the stories of the "farm hands" in Negros sugar plantations who suffered through a famine in the mid -1980s. (They likely weren't "farm hands ", by the way. Maybe they were bosses on the cane fields. Maybe they were sacadas, underpaid migrant wage workers working under brutal conditions. Whatever they were, "farm hand" is too innocent a term for cane sugar.) Maybe look for the stories of other upper class Catholic kolehiyalas who actually took to the fight, got disillusioned, and took to healing themselves and those around them. Maybe look for stories of how new (old) forms of brutality took root after EDSA, and how they lead directly to political and class-based violence today.

The 1980s was an interesting time in Philippine history, and there are lots of interesting stories from this time. This isn't one of them.

[Mateen Mahboubi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Simple art and great story made this an easy and enjoyable read. Mapa's family was right in the thick of things during the turbulent 80s in the Philippines and she is able to share her wonderful experience living through those times. The only thing that I missed was having more of her own perspective during the People Power Revolution. The general description of those times was appreciated by me since I wasn't as familiar with the events but it was also the chunk of the book which wasn't told from Mapa's own perspective.

Her honesty with her feelings and what she went through with the death of her father are greatly appreciated.

[Liz Yerby · Rating 4 out of 5]

A decent graphic memoir, I learned a lotta history. A lot of characters to keep track of! But still very sentimentally written

[Jennifer Spiegel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved it.

[Maria Olaguera · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book made me laugh, cry and remember. How strange and marvellous to see parts of my own childhood drawn out, and to read in Mapa's clear, honest prose some of my own thoughts and feelings that I've kept locked away. A shining example of how casting a look back can point the way forward.

[Ryan · Rating 5 out of 5]

A touching memoir that draws connections between family life, the political situation in the Philippines and a good dose of 80's pop culture. The drawings are clear and complement the narrative well. In addressing family the story includes themes of religion, identify, politics and class struggle.

[Trish (readtmc) · Rating 4 out of 5]

***1/2 rounded up

This is a graphic memoir and how Mapa connects her father's death with her childhood in the Philippines and I understand that memory and grief are not linear, but the different elements didn't flow together. The backdrop of Mapa's childhood during the 1986 People Power Revolution is unfortunately timely with results of the recent Philippine election and hoped for more about that especially considering Imelda Marcos, while in the title, is only mentioned a couple of times. The division in her family over Marcos and the privileged position her and her family had warrants a graphic memoir of its own. But, I’m still glad I finally read this.

[boat_tiger · Rating 4 out of 5]

The pop culture references are great, but then I grew up during the 80's, so...