A dynamic and devastating memoir about the cycle of trauma caused by addiction within one family
From a child’s-eye view, Travis Dandro recounts growing up with a drug-addicted birth father, alcoholic step-dad, and overwhelmed mother. As a kid, Dandro would temper the everyday tension with flights of fancy, finding refuge in toys and animals and insects rather than in the unpredictable adults around him. He perceptively details the effects of poverty and addiction on a family while maintaining a child’s innocence for as long as he can.
King of King Court spans from Travis’s early childhood through his teen years, focusing not only on the obviously abusive actions but also on the daily slights and snubs that further strain relations between him and his parents. Alongside his birth father committing crimes and shooting up, King of King Court lingers on scenes of him criticizing Travis and his siblings. Dandro gives equal heft to these anecdotes, emphasizing how damaging even relatively slight traumas can be to a child’s worldview.
As Travis matures into young adulthood and begins to understand the forces shaping his father’s toxic behaviors, the story becomes even more nuanced. Travis is empathetic to his father’s own tragic history but unable to escape the cycle of misconduct and reprisals. King of King Court is a revelatory autobiography that examines trauma, addiction, and familial relations in a unique and sensitive way.
I have just coincidentally been reading comics work on addiction lately, including a couple classics, David Lapham’s Stray Bullets: Sunshine and Roses, (all four volumes so far at this point); Simon Hanselman’s Bad Gateway, and now this memoir, King of King Court by Travis Dandro that focuses on the family disruption and trauma caused by Dandro’s heroin-addicted father and his alcohol-addicted step-father. The adult men are all damaged, drug-crazed and unstable, and Travis’s mom, to whom this book is dedicated, is passive, making self-destructive decisions because of love/attachment. Easy to judge, from the outside, other people’s bad choices, and Dandro does in places show his reasonable rage, but in general he just tells the bad, and the good without preaching. Dandro from early on uses comics to escape.
The story reminds me of the abusive aspects of Craig Thompson’s Blankets, with its main character also turning to art as healing, and escape through the imagination (and dreams). The art deliberately recalls a kid perspective in that it is mainly sketchy and kid-like, not an adult perspective. Like what Jeffrey Brown does in his rough memoir comix such as Clumsy or Every Girl is the End of the World For Me. Or Nate Powell’s damaged, vulnerable childhoods in his works such as Swallow Me Whole or Any Empire.
Much of the story is about children finding ways to stay out of the way of unstable adults. Many wordless panels and pages help you get a sense of the inside of Travis’s mind, where he goes for peace. Dandro makes it generally look close to what a kid might draw, rough, sketchy. Again, I was reminded of Willy Linthout’s kind of surreal Years of the Elephant that is written as if it were drawn in pencil, first draft, in a journal, complete with visible erasures intact. Raw!
There are aspects of this memoir that merit for me 3 stars, as it is almost never surprising, though in some places it merits closer to 4, in those fantasy escape panels. It wasn’t quite as edgy as any of the above-mentioned works, which will stick with me longer. All those other works, 5 stars, veer toward madness (though smack addict Dad Dave is scary in places) and are more complex and layered. But this is more than 450 pages, heartfelt and sad. And I have to say the production by Drawn & Quaterly is impressive. 3.5, with encouragement to continue on this path of raw honesty.
Travis Dandro’s childhood memoir King of King Court is about his biological father, Dave, whose psychological problems lead him down a dark path of crime, addiction and hurting his family. It’s a compelling story that sees Dave’s behaviour get worse over time. When he can’t get his prescription painkillers he turns to heroin, then his relationships crumble, and his behaviour becomes more desperate to fund his habit - it’s a sad depiction of what drug abuse does to a person.
Dandro tells the story well, hinting at Dave’s mental problems early on before revealing all towards the end, showing the cycle that trauma can sometimes cause. I appreciated that Dave isn’t simply a one-dimensional villain - there are glimpses of Dave’s humanity scattered throughout. Like Travis seeing his father passed out and vulnerable after he wakes Travis up in the middle of the night to fight imaginary monsters in the kitchen, and the story of why Dave feels the need to numb himself with opioids constantly.
It reads like a tragic story too because you can see Dandro’s mother really did love Dave and Dave too did seem to want to be a father to Dandro but couldn’t overcome his demons to do that. And, though Travis grows to hate his father for what he puts them all through, you get the sense here that, looking back after so many years, Dandro feels sorry for Dave more than anything.
The art is very evocative even if the characters are drawn somewhat cartoonishly throughout. It’s an odd choice that Dandro draws himself with pupil-less eyes. Dave is always wearing sunglasses too so you rarely see his eyes - maybe the two are connected, Dandro showing he’s his father’s son in this visual way?
It’s a fairly long book at nearly 500 pages though the pages fly by, particularly when Dave’s behaviour becomes increasingly reckless and danger seems forever looming for the Dandro family. That said, this book could’ve been edited down a bit. The dream sequences (Travis riding his blow-up clown through the sky, the Mona Lisa grabbing him) and a lot of his day-to-day childhood routines were either pointless or boring, as was the episode where his family briefly moves in with an alcoholic relative.
Still, I really enjoyed King of King Court. It’s a powerful portrait of how untreated trauma can ruin not just one life but an entire family’s.
"I think you're old enough to know the truth . . . David is your father." -- Travis' mother
The dark and depressing subject matter at the center of Dandro's graphic novel memoir King of King Court ultimately makes it very difficult to assign it a positive rating. Jumping between 1982 (when Dandro was a carefree six year-old) and 1990 (when he was a slightly more worldly teen), the story details the questionable and ultimately toxic - and I know that 'toxic' is an extremely overused buzzword these days, but it truly fits here - actions of his biological father 'Daddy Dave.' Dave is a felonious, anti-authority, narcotics-addicted, and abusive (both child and spousal) jerk of a man-child who slips in and out of the family's life while repeatedly screwing up. I'm guessing it was cathartic for Dandro to put his recollections to the page - certainly no child / teen should have to experience some of the things that he did - but it made for some rather grim and unenjoyable reading.
A pretty standard graphic memoir about a childhood marred by domestic turmoil and violence. Most of the problems stem from the relationship of the author and his mother with his biological father, a troubled man dealing with his own trauma, drug addiction, and anger issues. The page layouts are ambitious, cinematic and laden with symbolism, though the finished art lacks the polish to really pull them off. But for making the attempt, I’ll forego deducting a rating star for the annoying and useless dream sequences. (God, I hate those things.)
A messy graphic-biography about violent, addicted father figures, a mother who wants what's best for her family but regularly falls back into destructive patterns, caring but passive grandparents, and the kids who maneuvered their way through a childhood peopled by such adults.
Book blurb: From a child’s-eye view, Travis Dandro recounts growing up with a drug-addicted birth father, alcoholic step-dad, and overwhelmed mother.
In some respects this graphic memoir is a straight forward recounting of the author's early life. While he doesn't particularly tread new ground, there are a couple of scenes that will stay with me. One is when as a young boy he gets a knife from the kitchen and keeps it under his pillow. The artwork was OK - a tad too sketchy for my tastes, but he captures a certain mood quite well. This is an ode of sorts to his Mother, but my fave adult was his grandma - a complicated figure sure, but she provided a certain stability. Adults intentionally or unintentionally traumatize kids, and it's a wonder that any of us make it out alive.
Very poignant with minimalistic art & dialogue, makes for a powerful memoir.
So damn sad. It’s really no wonder that men rate higher than women in successfully unaliving themselves. You can clearly see it in Dave’s inability to process or talk about what happened to his brother- he was the epitome of ‘gotta be a macho man’ big tough guy who battled his demons with drugs until he couldn’t take it anymore.
And I empathize with Dandro’s mother- it can be hard enough to have one kid let alone three (while also working and keeping house) and to do it through instability & DV, it’s no wonder she checked out most of the time and allowed Dave to continue his harmful actions while having no real familial consequences- except for the natural ones that piled up for him.
And Travis. Just a product of two adults who didn’t deal with their own issues so they bled their trauma all over their kid… I can imagine that writing this must’ve been cathartic for him.
Tragedy begets tragedy. Mental health is so important. Take care of yourselves❤️
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A coming-of-age graphic novel memoir about becoming an artist, dealing with an abusive parent, navigating complex family relationships, & just being a kid/teen. The art is wonderful & imaginative & detailed. The themes weave deftly into the narrative.
[What I liked:]
•The art is wonderful. Travis depicts himself as a kid rather cartoonishly, a bit like Calvin from Calvin & Hobbes, which fits with the childlike perspective. Meanwhile, there is fantastic detail in the settings, buildings, nature, etc., which are either very realistic or stylized for mood & emotional effect.
•The ending is so poignant. It winds a tragedy, a nightmare (or fantasy?), & a sweet childhood memory all into one sequence of blended imagery. It’s really touching, & ties all the themes together into a succinct summing up of the story.
•Travis really captures the feelings of childhood & adolescence, from playing outside in the woods, misunderstandings at school, dealing with acne, being an older sibling, etc.
•There are some heavy topics in this story (see the content warnings below), but they are handled in a sensitive yet honest way. It’s seen through the eyes of a six-year-old, & later sixteen-year-old, who is piecing together the red flags & unsettling events to figure out who is trustworthy & who needs protecting.
[What I didn’t like as much:]
•Sometimes, especially early on, I’d get lost in what was happening on the page. There are long sequences of the kid’s imagination taking flight that were sometimes fantastical & sometimes disorienting. Once I kept reading I could usually figure out what was happening. With a couple things there were visual hints that were fully explained later on in the narrative. So I think these were deliberate story-telling choices that for the most part work, & perhaps the flights of fancy & disorientation are intentionally embodying a child’s perspective. But sometimes I did get lost for awhile.
CW: drug abuse, alcohol abuse, allusions to the Adam Walsh kidnapping/murder case, armed robbery, physical child abuse, suicide, domestic violence/spousal abuse
It feels too mean-spirited to give a star rating to someone's accounting of their own troubled relationship with a volatile father struggling with addiction. And, after having finished Lynda Barry's Making Comics, which urges you to not make judgements about the quality of drawing but to concentrate more on the truth that comes out of the page, it feels mean-spirited to critique the art style in this graphic novel. There were definitely some truths coming from the pages of the book - the capturing of a complex family dynamic as well as emotional states. While the art really wasn't my thing, the author really did capture so well the feeling of suburban and coastal Massachusetts - one of the scenes at the beach made me have such an intense feeling of recognition just based on the textures of the plants and the outside of the houses. However, in the end, this was not my favorite graphic novel memoir and not sure I would recommend.
This was quite an interesting one. King of King Court is Travis Dandro’s childhood autobiography told in the graphic novel format. The artwork was simple and enjoyable and easy to follow, and I really liked his style. The story is quite heartbreaking as it depicts Travis, beginning at the age of 6, as he is introduced to his birth father. From there, Travis grows up dealing with said birth father having a drug problem, his step-father having a drinking problem, and a whole lot of drama that stems from the two.
The graphic novel shows everything happening from Travis’s POV, with a childlike filter overtop. The way he uses his imagination to escape is very telling and I would imagine a way a lot of children try and escape rough parts of their lives.
This is a very emotional graphic novel, and some scenes are hard to stomach. It’s difficult to see Travis’s mother go through everything and still continue to give his father chances until she just can’t anymore. It’s heartbreaking to see someone so overcome with addiction that they’d do literally anything to get a fix.
Overall, I’d say this is a very interesting, informative read that may appeal to a lot of kids who may be in similar situations.
King of King Court is a standalone pleasure. Interesting read of the nice & not nice things about being a kid (or adult). Funny, heartfelt, curious...a seamless blend of experience. Calvin and Hobbes meets Blankets in this memoir with a story all its own.
I am absolutely loving the narrative of this book. Very open and honest about what would have been a harrowing experience and time in a young mans life. Thank you for sharing.
A harrowing look at a childhood with an abusive, drug-addicted father, King of King Court is good in that you can't look away, though it would never be mistaken for a fun or enjoyable read. The Sunday morning comics art style is distracting at first (feels like reading a bizarro Calvin and Hobbes), but it slowly clicks into place as the tension ramps up. Ultimately, the limited palette and lack of stylistic flourishes makes the action on the page all the more unsettling and gut-wrenching.
The lack of narration also makes this graphic memoir somewhat unique, forcing the artwork and dialogue to do the heavy lifting. Again, it's tough sledding at first, with no clear characters and several unnecessary dream sequences. But maybe the gentle, odd beginning is nice considering the following 400+ pages are an unrelenting stream of humans making poor choices.
King of King Court joins a growing category of graphic memoirs that deal with addiction and bleak childhoods. Unlike some of the others, such as Hey, Kiddo, it doesn't offer much humor or levity to go with the dark times. And there's little purpose to the book beyond the author getting something off his chest. For example, his life outside the abuse and addiction is barely explored. King of King Court is certainly unique and powerful, but it doesn't have much to offer beyond the grim realities of some lives.
A lush, nimble account of the artist and his father. It really makes you go back over the frames to capture how Dandro combines textures, from his father’s eyes to a hornet’s nest, from a knifepoint to a framed painting of a Chinese dragon in a storm. The contents of this story are heavy, if sadly common for 21st century America: drug addiction, domestic abuse. Threadbare families struggle to hold it together, focusing on the stable periods in between explosions of violence and chaos. Pretty much sounds like branches of my family, and my in-laws.
Dandro is also able to note the humanity of others: the staying hand that grabs the knife, the eccentric uncle who lends his house, even if he still hangs out naked on his own wood floors. Light moments are flecked like salt to lift the tale, or else it might have been ponderous.
I didn’t buy this, but checked it out from the New York Public Library. Now the New York Times is reporting that the library faces cuts, as the city deals with ongoing budget crisis. So it goes. But the library is not down for the count completely. If works like this are read and passed around, there is hope, still, to improve and even renovate our painfully distressed society.
Ok. So someone writes a graphic memoir of their tough young life. That doesn't make it a likeable book - in fact it would seem to be unusual for it to be a likeable book. Most of the art was ok, some of it was really nice. As bad as the author's childhood was, sure it could have been worse. But really it just didn't grab me. It feels trite to say I just didn't like it, but I didn't.
3.5 stars. it is a compelling memoir story. but the way in which he used his art to tell the story did. not totally work for me. some parts of the story felt jagged and confusing.
In this graphic memoir packed with emotional power, Dandro recounts from a child’s-eye view his growing up with a drug-addicted birth father, alcoholic step-dad, and overwhelmed mother. As a kid, Dandro escaped everyday tensions with flights of fancy, and found refuge in toys and animals and insects rather than in the unpredictable adults around him. As Travis matures into young adulthood and comes to understand the forces shaping his father’s toxic behaviors, the story becomes more nuanced.
Résumé : 1980. Travis est un jeune garçon de 6 ans qui vit heureux avec sa mère, son beau-père et ses deux demi-frères dans le Massachusetts. Il rencontre alors son père biologique, « Papa Dave », qu’il pensait être un ami de sa mère. Ce dernier, petit voyou mais surtout homme extrêmement instable, est dépendant à l’héroïne. Il prend de plus en plus de place dans la vie de Travis, alors que le couple de sa mère explose, pour le pire.
Mon avis : C’est à l’adolescence, pendant cette période très difficile avec l’irruption violente mais en alternance de son père drogué que Travis découvre son goût pour l’illustration, échappatoire bienvenue. Son trait - simple mais pas simpliste, et en noir et blanc - est parfait pour nous compter son enfance loin des contes de fées, dure et traumatisante. Ce que je n’ai pas compris dans son histoire, c’est l’attitude de la mère, qui parfois protège ses enfants comme une lionne, mais à d’autres périodes les met sciemment en danger. Malgré cet environnement glauque, Travis essaie de se construire comme il le peut, notamment grâce à son échappatoire artistique. En tout cas, c’est une lecture coup de poing, brute et violente, qui rappelle que la vie, l’enfance, n’est pas toujours ce qu’elle devrait être, malheureusement. Mais qu’on peut tout de même sans sortir, même si ça prend du temps.
Dandro's graphic memoir is a textbook example of how the "graphic novel" format uses both words and pictures to create something that couldn't be achieved without both. At times surreal, at times literal, it captures moments from his childhood to adolescence, and how they affected him. It's a deeply personal look at life in a dysfunctional family, so some parts are disturbing, and it's definitely a "PG-13" or "M" experience. There's nothing truly groundbreaking here, but it's definitely worth checking out for people who want to see what "graphic novels" can do beyond the stereotypical superhero.
TW: physical, emotional, and drug abuse; toxic family relationships
I wouldn’t say I enjoyed this, but I did find myself thinking a lot about it as I read. It said so much without saying anything. At times, Dandro’s storytelling was clever and deeply impactful. But often, I also didn’t know what to think. There were many moments that confused me or just went over my head due to the lack of a narrator. I think this was a very good use of the graphic novel format, using art to sell the story. The simplistic nature of the drawings further added to strength of the narrative, allowing you to follow things in an organic way.
But I also think some portions could’ve been better detailed or explained. The review on the back cover implied this was “straight-forward,” and that it “offers a way out.” But I didn’t get that at all. The story of abuse (in all forms: drugs, emotional, physical, domestic), and family was complex and heartbreaking. But I was also doing a lot of work to understand seemingly simple scenes. Maybe it was my autism or I was overthinking it? Or maybe some readers/reviews were under-thinking it.
I wasn’t ever particularly surprised by Dave. What was hard for me was watching Dandro’s mother choosing him over her children time and time again. The cycle of danger she chained them to. It was awful to watch and I know it broke Dandro as he learned to trust others less and less. As he quieted over time. A very sad story entirely told through dialogue and drawings.
Reading 2020 Book 8: King of King Court by Travis Dandro
Still binging graphic novels... This was a a hulk of a book, but it read quickly.
The book is a memoir of Travis growing up with his biological parents being separated. Travis does not know who his father is until he is 6. Dad Mark has addictions, step dad is an alcoholic, and mom still has feelings for birth dad. As the story goes along Dad Mark's addictions are brought more to life as Travis understands better what is happening and is torn between two fathers. The story has a dark pall throughout.
When I finished the book, I was not sure what I thought. Another book to close the cover and digest, and it seems to me I have been on a sad, tragic story jag at the beginning of the year. This story was definitely tragic for Travis and you really want to reach in a give him a hug during the whole book. The art was sometimes confusing especially during the dreams sequences. In the end i will say I am glad I read the book, and would say to those that ask, be in the right mood. Reviewed for grades 10 and higher, this book may be an important one for other kids experiencing these type of things in their lives. My rating 3 ⭐️
A masterful debut, King of King Court will appeal strongly to fans of John Porcellino, with its portrayal of semi-suburban life and exploration of identity as it relates to one's family, but KOKC is also an intensely emotional memoir that zooms in and out of perspective, creating a kind of Terrence Malick effect. Dandro's linework is often virtuosic, reminding me at times of David B., switching easily between a more stylized and comic portrayal of characters from his early life, and highly dramatic and detailed depictions of buildings, nature, and animals. It adds up to a unique style defined by a nervous, jittery hatching alongside confident, thick outlines, lending a sense of anxious excitement that permeates the book.
The narrative, largely wordless, centers on Dandro's complex relationship with his biological father, known as "Dad Dave," whose struggles with addiction and whose tendency towards violence make him an unpredictable and frightening presence that looms large over the book. Yet, Dandro's portrayal is anything but simplistic; one gets the sense that there are complicated emotions at the heart of this relationship, giving KOKC a rich and lasting impact.
A moving memoir of a messy childhood with addict fathers and a loving set of family members. Travis Dandro's art style choice affects the child's point of view perfectly. This is not to say that there aren't some meticulous and beautiful panels that focus on nature and architecture. The memoir follows Dandro's childhood years from when he finds out Dave, who he sees on the weekends, is his birth father (and his dad is his stepfather) until a final big confrontation (and some after events that seem to emotionally stem from this confrontation between father and son). the adult world is examined first with wonder and incomprehension in his early years and later with anger and frustration. The respite comes from grandparents and his mom, though none of the adults are entirely able to protect Travis from his fathers, especially his birth father, who is a drug addict (he steals from his parents and is in and out of jail for robbery, though Travis's mom is unable to let him go for a long time, hoping that he will change.)
Recommended for those who like ants, juice and ice cream.
This GN memoir begins with Travis, our protagonist, a literal wide-eyed waif. Dandro draws his child self with Dondi-like orbs for eyes. Six-year-old Travis is curious, energetic and has a vivid dream-life. His mom informs him that the man he's called "dad" is not his biological father. And this begins a journey that
Unfortunately, "Dad Dave," as Travis is asked to call his biological dad, has some pretty dark problems. He's an addict; he's violent. He seems to be plagued by the memory of a violent suicide. And the more time Dave and Travis spend together, the more this darkness seeps into Travis.
The strength of Dandro's artwork is his use of lines: the concentric rays of the moon, the squiggles that fill both wallpaper and characters' hair, wood grain, grass, etc. It gave the settings texture. And his storytelling moved me through this almost-500 page GN in one sitting.
This is, without a doubt, one of my most painful reads in a long time. There were several moments in this book that were almost too much. If you have anxiety issues related to domestic unrest and abuse, this may not be the best choice for you- it is often very intense. That being said, I still appreciate that this story has been put to paper and I am glad I read it. Travis' artwork and panelwork are phenomenal. His style, while admittedly cartoonish at times, has great power at certain moments. There is a fair amount of wordless storytelling which gives you plenty of opportunities to focus on the art. His storytelling is also very good. He makes sure to portray his father in both his good and bad moments, which really just makes the experience of reading this book all the more painful. This book had me choked up, which is not something many comics do. This is a good, emotional, honest memoir, and I highly recommend it.
I have to say, I normally don't like graphic novels. Due to some sort of inner prejudice, I tend to look down upon them. However, I enjoyed the King of King Court. The drawing style is a little hard to get used to, so at some point you just have to accept that it's not worth dwelling on each individual panel if you don't understand it in the first few seconds. That said, the content of the book is interesting. It's a good book, in that while you don't really come away with a new intellectual understanding of domestic abuse, you do gain a better sense of how it works. While that may sound abstract – and it is – my point is that I finished the book a little disturbed, but not in a way that I totally understand. It leaves you with an unsettling feeling that is hard to articulate, and I think in that way it likely achieves its purpose.