Book Review: Noodles, Rice, and Everything Spice: A Thai Comic Book Cookbook

reviewed by Cord A. Scott, UMGC Okinawa

Christina De Witte and Mallika Kauppinen. Noodles, Rice, and Everything Spice:  A Thai Comic Book Cookbook. New York:  Ten Speed Graphic, 2024. 208 pp. US $22.99. ISBN:  978-1-9848-6160-3. https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/709867/noodles-rice-and-everything-spice-by-christina-de-witte-and-mallika-kauppinen/

For the culinary curious, but challenged, any sort of cookbook can be fraught with anxiety and frustration. What might seem simple on paper may turn nightmarish in the kitchen. However, the origins of food are far more intriguing for readers and culinary practitioners. For Christina De Witte and Mallika Kauppinen, the goal of combining food origins, recipes, and an ease of explanation is in Noodles, Rice, and Everything Spice. As with so many books, it is a labor of love, as well as a long creative process to the final product.

In the first part of the book, the authors describe the manner in which they came to work on this project. For Christina, it was growing up as a mixed-race woman in Belgium. While she spoke Flemish most of her life, she often felt not quite comfortable in either her European life, or that of her Thai origins, of which she knew very little. It was only after she became an adult that she decided to embark on a quest to learn her mother’s language, which led her to an online teacher, Mallika (10).

Mallika’s story was interesting and meandering. She grew up in southern Thailand and started assisting in her family restaurant early on. She moved to Bangkok and worked at an aunt’s restaurant through adulthood. As an adult, she worked as a travel guide, and while in Finland, she met her now husband. After establishing a new life, she started cooking for neighbors, started a restaurant, and then took on virtual students for a Thai language class, which is where the two met.

The first part of the book describes the general areas of Thailand and how the food is a reflection of the local interaction with related cultures. For example, southern Thai food is spicy and heavily influenced by Malay and Indonesian culture, while the northern area has a Chinese influence. The Northwest is influenced by India and Bangkok is metropolitan and almost unto itself (17-21). From this point, the book goes into a variety of dishes made with specific ingredients. These form the chapters and are reflective of the areas in which the recipes originated.

From this point, the book is divided into chapters on ingredients, snacks and starters, noodle dishes, rice dishes, curries and soups, desserts and drinks, and finally, staples of Thai cooking. The first section, which discusses equipment, as well as Asian spices and ingredients, emphasizes the importance of cooking devices such as rice cookers (for ease), woks (for a traditional feel), as well as items, such as a mortar and pestle, for properly blending some of the ingredients. The authors also note what ingredients work best, which can be frozen for later use, and which sauces are authentic. Of particular interest was the “three buddies” spice (34-35), consisting of cilantro, garlic and peppercorn, which is frequently used in Thai cooking. The use of spices is another area of detail, as those not overly familiar with Thai cooking may shy away from chilies. The authors note that it often is left to the cook to decide, but, overall, the chilies bring a balance of flavor to the dish (36-37).

From this point, the descriptions become more precise, and again offer historical context. In the noodles chapter, some noodles originate from China and their texture and style may alter the presentation of the dish. There is also a historical overview of the flooding in Bangkok in 1942, when roadside restaurants were able to make dishes that all could quickly get, and were delicious at the same time.

The chapter on curries even offers some humor. For example, it is recommended to wear either regular work goggles (or even swim goggles!) when preparing curries. The pounding of the chilies causes some to fly out and it runs a risk of getting into the eyes. The cosmopolitan nature of Thai food, especially from Bangkok, is expanded with the brief history of Maria Guyomor di Pinha. She was of mixed heritage and introduced egg yolk desserts from Europe to the Thai community. When combined with other items, such as papayas and pineapples, introduced from Portugal (23), it has given Thai food a unique taste profile and quality that is renown the world over.

This book is a lively read, with effective explanations of the recipes. The preparation may inhibit those who are culinarily challenged (reviewer included), but, at the same time, does have one minor issue:  substitutions for items such as fish sauce or squid sauce when preparing the food. This may frustrate those who have allergies to shellfish. Additionally, there are few truly vegetarian dishes, for those who do not consume meat. The assumption is that one would cook the dish without meat, but this will also alter the original taste. However, this was one of the few issues that was noted.

On the whole, the book was a fast, engaging read that offers a new way to educate people on the history of food from a specific region, while offering visual references to the cooking process. In the end, there is also the additional engagement of not just reading but making the food. And in the end, it’s not only nourishment for the brain, but also the body.

 

Book Review: Graphic Narratives from Early Modern Japan. The World of Kusazōshi.

reviewed by John A. Lent

Laura Moretti and Satō Yukiko, eds. Graphic Narratives from Early Modern Japan. The World of Kusazōshi. Leiden and Boston:  Brill, 2024. 634 pp.+xxv. US $114.00 (Hardback). ISBN:  978-90-04-50410-3. https://brill.com/edcollbook/title/61019

 

In recent months, comics scholarship has been enriched by three characteristics that this reviewer has called for since the early 1990s--an approach that covers regions outside of the Euro-American sphere, specifically, Asia, a methodology that digs deep into plentiful, nearly-untouched archival materials, and a roster of foreign (to the U.S.) authors.

Two 2024 books that display these characteristics are Caricatures en Extrême Orient. Origines, Rencontres, Métissages, edited by Laurent Baridon and Marie Laureillard, that consists of 22 chapters dealing with comics in China, Japan, Korea, Taiwan, and Vietnam, and written by nationals from eight countries, and the subject of this review, Graphic Narratives from Early Modern Japan, The World of Kusazōshi, edited by Laura Moretti and Satō Yukiko. Both volumes are lavishly-illustrated.

Moretti and Satō’s Graphic Narratives… is a weighty compendium, literally, because of the high-quality paper used and the inclusion of many colored plates; figuratively, because of the content that explores a virgin area (at least to foreign scholars) in a ponderous manner. The 17 chapters (including the Introduction) included nine by Japanese researchers (seven requiring translations), likely because kusazōshi and kibyōshi are relatively unknown topics in Western scholarship, except for the works of a few individuals, a large number of whom are represented in this volume--Laura Moretti, Adam L. Kern, Ellis Tinios, Frederick Feilden, Michael Emmerich, Jaqueline Berndt, Glynne Walley, and Joseph Bills. The book is labeled as the first English, multi-author study of kusazōshi.

Divided into three parts--“Modiality in Kusazōshi,” “The Pleasures of Reading,” and “Approaching Kusazōshi in a Global Context,” Graphic Narratives… goes to great lengths to introduce other affiliates/offshoots/similarities of kusazōshi in chapters on akahon (red cover books), kibyōshi (yellow cover books), and gōkan (combined booklets), meticulously define/describe all terms, and provide snippets of narrative plots and unique techniques employed.

Graphic narratives given as examples are sometimes serious; other times, humorous or facetious. One kibyōshi related the giddiness of a fart contest; another told how Inoue Hisashi overcame stuttering and tenseness by reading kibyōshi, concluding that, “Being silly and useless was just fine.” Some of the semiotic and linguistic techniques used to facilitate reading were ingenious; for instance, using marks to indicate direction, reading methods, and so on, or designing pages with empty space gaps arranged as waves between blocks of text to show motion, wind, or rain; both traits found in gōkan.

Kusazōshi were elaborate productions, every part of which was decorated, from the sales wrappers to the front and back and inside front and inside back covers. It is surprising how many of them have survived war, natural disasters, and normal wear-and-tear, and are found in abundance in the National Diet Library and, to a lesser extent, in some Japanese university libraries. To have 178 of them in one place, as in Graphic Narratives…, definitely augments the field of study.

A chapter that stands apart from the others, but is vital to understanding where kusazōshi and kibyōshi fit into comics studies, is that written by Adam L. Kern. An early Western scholar of kibyōshi (see, the symposium on kibyōshi that he edited in Vol. 9, No. 1 of IJOCA). Kern contributed an excellent critique of comics studies, while making a case that kusazōshi and kibyōshi are comparable to comics and decrying the prevalent notion that comics are Euro-American in origin. In one instance, he mentions my Asian Comics as a resource that defines comics as emanating from Western comic strips, using my chapter on India as an example, where I date the introduction of comics to an Indian imitation of The British Punch. However, Kern fails to mention that in both the Introduction and the first chapter, “A Lead-Up to Asian Comics,” I provide numerous examples of comics-like art that existed for centuries, before Western penetration, not only in India, but also China, Indonesia, Korea, Japan, and Persia.

Laura Moretti and Satō Yukiko should hold an exalted space in the world of comics scholarship for what they have contributed with Graphic Narratives… .They have lifted kusazōshi from a brief footnote to a full-fledged area of study, pulling together a mix of Japanese and Western scholars, bent on providing varying perspectives on the medium, from different approaches, backed up with much first-hand information, sourced from plenty of primary and secondary materials, fully explained in the text, footnotes, and explanatory notes to the reader, and profusely- and brilliantly-illustrated. What more can one ask for? A masterful job!

 

Book Review: We Are Not Strangers by Josh Tuininga

reviewed by Shanna Hollich, retired librarian

Josh Tuininga. We Are Not Strangers: Based on a True Story. Abrams Comicarts, 2023. $24.99 (hardcover). ISBN: 978-1-4197-5994-9. https://www.abramsbooks.com/product/we-are-not-strangers_9781419759949/

Josh Tuininga’s We Are Not Strangers is not getting nearly as much hype as it deserves. Often billed as yet another “touching tale of friendship during World War II” (Kirkus), or a “slice of Seattle history” (Seattle Times), this historical graphic novel delivers much more than a trite tale of being nice to your neighbors, even (perhaps especially) during times of great turmoil.

The story itself is a relatively simple one, and though it is based on a true story from Tuininga’s own family lore, this work is first and foremost one of historical fiction. The tale follows Marco, a Sephardic Jewish immigrant in the Seattle area, as he witnesses the impact of American policies towards Japanese Americans and Japanese immigrants during World War II. In his own quiet way, he works tirelessly to do what he can to help his friend Sam Akiyama, who is about to lose his family home and business. In this way, it is a familiar story of discrimination and its ripple effects throughout an entire community.

What makes this story unique, however, is the meticulous care and attention to detail that Tuininga has demonstrated throughout. The book begins with a foreword from Ken Mochizuki that gives some initial historical context and ends with an extensive Notes and Sources section that includes hand-drawn historical maps of Seattle, detailed descriptions of historical landmarks featured throughout the story, actual newspaper headlines from the time, and a glossary of terms. One of the most satisfying reader experiences I have ever had involved looking through the list and drawings of historical landmarks from the Notes and Sources section and then going back through the actual graphic novel to find where those same landmarks are drawn into the story, often only in backgrounds or scene settings.

This attention to detail in the artwork is perhaps the most satisfying piece of the entire book. One could pore over the pictures on these pages for hours and still find new details to admire. The art is realistic without crossing into the uncanny valley, a perfect dividing line between feeling real enough to drive powerful points home, but still being cartoony enough to allow the reader some degree of self-preserving psychic separation. The chapters tend to jump back and forth between the present and the past, and while this sort of narrative device can sometimes be confusing for readers, the detailed artistic settings and color schemes make it easy for readers to keep their place and bridge the gap between time periods. We can expect no less from Tuininga, who has a solid background in art and design.

This is truly a book for all ages, which makes it a valuable addition to any library (public, school, or personal). Younger children will appreciate looking at the artwork and having a simple understanding of the basic story, while older teens and adults will be able to delve in to more of the nuance and history that lies beneath. An afterword by Devin E. Naar, Professor in Sephardic Studies, sheds light on a particularly interesting and understated aspect of the story: the fact that Marco, while attempting to help fight discrimination against a marginalized community (Japanese immigrants), is himself a member of a marginalized community (a Sephardic Jew and speaker of Ladino). The cross-cultural solidarity on display here is both remarkable in that we see it so rarely in stories like this, but also in that it is not over-dramatized or used purely as a selling point. There are thankfully no “white saviors” here; even Marco provides his help quietly and mostly in the background, never seeking spotlights or accolades, just quietly doing what is right.

Abrams typically delivers a nice physical artifact with its books, and this one is no exception; make sure to remove the dust jacket in order to fully appreciate the illustrative details on the actual hardcover and both front and back endpapers. This book is a welcome addition to a pantheon of graphic novels that portray the experiences of marginalized folks, immigrants, and the history of America during World War II. Don’t sleep on this one.

 A version of this review will appear in the print edition of IJOCA.

Book Review: Cooking with Deadpool

reviewed by 

Lizzy Walker

Wichita State University Libraries

Marc Sumerak, Elena P. Craig, and Ted Thomas. Cooking with Deadpool. San Rafael, California: Insight Editions, 2021. 143 pages, $29.99 978-1683838449 https://insighteditions.com/products/marvel-comics-cooking-with-deadpool

Fandom cookbooks, from comics to movies to video games, have become popular items. Cooking with Deadpool is a great addition to the genre. The book, totaling 63 recipes, contains six sections: Small Bites for Big Mouths; Side Jobs; Maximum Efforts; What the People Really Want; Waking Up with Wade; and Sweetest Things. X-Men’s Cable even has a few recipes in here. Each recipe includes an introduction by Deadpool, which are highly entertaining, as well as provide some history about the Marvel universe, or the dish itself. Other information included with the recipes are serving totals, the occasional helpful tip, and detailed instructions. While Deadpool helps the reader out with handy tips within some recipes, there are more in-depth explanations in Just the Tips, such as folding the perfect chimichanga before popping it into frying oil, making an accurate knife selection for the job, and spatchcocking a chicken. Provided at the end of the cookbook is a menu section that helps the reader combine different recipes to host the perfect meal. Deadpool, also known as Wade Winston Wilson, is the Merc with a Mouth, and Sumerak has a solid grasp on how to write the character, even in a cookbook. Along with the recipes and tips, Deadpool delivers snarky one-liners and casual poses.

As I read through the recipes, something that was refreshing is that all of the ingredients can be found at your local or big box grocery store. This makes the ingredients, and the meals, quite accessible. From creating the shopping list, to preparation and cooking, to serving, everything in here is understandable for the beginning chef and gourmand alike.

The design of the hardcover cookbook is fantastic. It can stand up to kitchen use well. The spine allows for the book to lay flat on a counter or other flat surface. The glossy pages are also easy to clean if anything happens to drip onto them in the preparation of the delicious recipes.

A Review of Selected Recipes (photos by Lizzy Walker)

Ya Basic Chimi: This one was easy to prep, except for folding the chimichangas. Even with the detailed instructions, toward the end steps of the process I couldn't get the wrap to cooperate. This could be because I can't even do origami well, or there is a step missed in the instructions. Regardless, with the aid of some well-placed toothpicks to keep them sealed, frying them up was easy. Accompanied with homemade salsa, these chimis were more than basic.  

Pool-tine: I have to admit, I used a tip provided by Deadpool and used frozen steak fries instead of making my own. The gravy was delightful, and the instructions were clear and easy to follow. Combining the flavor of the steak fries, cheese curds, and gravy was the perfect meal after a long day. This one will become a staple in my household.

Smells Like Victory: Combining two different pancake flavors is a brilliant idea. In this case, it was chocolate and malted milk pancakes. I did omit the malt powder, since I didn’t have any on hand. The chocolate batter cooked a bit faster and the pancakes came out thinner than the plain pancakes, but the texture and flavor were great together.

With relatively simple to make recipes, Deadpool’s witty remarks, and special appearances by Cable, Cooking with Deadpool would make an excellent addition to a cookbook collection. The creative team behind this cookbook is great. Marc Sumerak is a Harvey- and Eisner Award nominated comic writer, and he earned his BFA in Creative Writing at Bowling Green State University. Between writing and editing comics, his body of work is impressive. Elena P. Craig is a food stylist and cookbook developer working in the field for over 25 years and she enjoys telling food stories. Ted Thomas provided the beautiful photography that accompanies the recipes.

PR: CALL FOR ENTRIES: The 2024 Rex Babin Memorial Award

A PSA.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

CALL FOR ENTRIES: The 2024 Rex Babin Memorial Award for Excellence in Local Cartooning

SACRAMENTO, CA — The Association of American Editorial Cartoonists has long championed those who work for small and local newspapers, and once again in 2024 the AAEC is looking for the best in political cartooning. The Rex Babin Memorial Award for Excellence in Local Cartooning (named after the late Sacramento cartoonist) focuses on state and local editorial cartoons, an issue of great importance to Babin during his lifetime.

While his work was syndicated nationally, Rex Babin was a strong believer in the power of editorial cartoons to have real influence at the local level. As the cartoonist for daily newspapers in two different state capitals, he saw how effective satire could sometimes be when directed at targets across the street. His unique drawing style stood out among the work of his peers, and his fellow cartoonists elected him President of the AAEC in 2009. 

"Rex Babin was one of the foremost practitioners of the local cartoon" said Jack Ohman, Babin's long-time friend and current AAEC President, "and the AAEC once again honors Rex and his work with this Award."

This year's judges includes previous recipients Matt Davies, Steve Stegelin and Joel Pett. This year's award will be presented during the AAEC joint convention with their Canadian counterparts in Montreal in October.

The deadline to enter is Friday, August 23, 2024.

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + 

The Rex Babin Memorial Award for Excellence in Local Cartooning — Rules & Eligibility

• Any editorial cartoonist or graphic journalist who comments on or covers local, state or provincial events in the U.S., Canada or Mexico is eligible to enter; membership in the AAEC or ACC is not required. 

• Please submit ten cartoons and a 150 word statement from the artist about their work and its impact. 

• Cartoons must have been published between July 2023 and June 2024.   

• Cartoons should be in a 300dpi jpeg format, and emailed to rexbabinaward@gmail.com. 

• There is no entry fee.

• The judging criteria are: 

  1) Cartoons on a local or state subject that have a strong political or social impact; 

  2) Excellence in draftsmanship and ideas.

The deadline to enter is Friday, August 23, 2024.

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + 

For more information on the award, contact Matt Davies at Matthew.Davies@newsday.com. For more information on the AAEC, go to editorialcartoonists.com.

Book Review: Burning Down the House: Latin American Comics in the 21st Century.

 

reviewed by Maite Urcaregui

Laura Cristina Fernández, Amadeo Gándolfo, and Pablo Turnes, eds. 2023. Burning Down the House: Latin American Comics in the 21^st Century. New York: Routledge, 2023.  https://www.routledge.com/Burning-Down-the-House-Latin-American-Comics-in-the-21st-Century/CristinaFernandez-Gandolfo-Turnes/p/book/9781032148311 

Laura Cristina Fernández, Amadeo Gándolfo, and Pablo Turnes’ Burning Down the House: Latin American Comics in the 21^st Century (2023) is a welcome and worthy addition to the study of the “complex and multiple universe” of contemporary Latin American comics (Fernández et al., 2023: 1). The expansive collection includes thirteen chapters by fourteen contributors that discuss comics from Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, México, Perú, Uruguay, and Spain. The editors recognize the difficulty, or what they call the “particular conundrum,” of writing about Latin America, which comprises many different national and cultural contexts (Fernández et al., 2023: 2). As they say, “while most Latin American countries have experienced similar political and economic processes, these have been filtered by the particular characteristics, history, social qualities and economic realities of each country” (Fernández et al., 2023: 2). The editors’ introduction thus begins by reviewing the similar and particular political and economic realities of Latin America in the late 20^th and early 21^st century: the failures of neoliberal governments in the 1990s and early 2000s; the rise of the “pink tide” of populist Leftist governments between 2002 and 2015; and the contemporary turn to centrist, right-wing, and alt-right governments. These political pendulum swings have coincided with various economic crise--from austerity measures to overspending to the neocolonial influence of the Global North--which have in turn exacerbated social inequalities and unrest.

“How does this political and economic process impact our topic: comics?” the editors ask (Fernández et al., 2023: 5). Well, in response, Latin American comics have proliferated, a growth that “often clashes with the economic reality of Latin American graphic production, made within an increasingly precarious context” (Fernández et al., 2023: 5). Fernández, Gándolfo, and Turnes further describe this growth, saying:

Twenty-first-century Latin American comics are deeply plural in its inspirations, subjects, drawing styles, political/social concerns and formats. At the same time, its evolution in this century has been marked by the emergence of three phenomena, often articulated with each other: the Internet as a means of publication and publicity; the graphic novel as a privileged format and organizer of the narrative; and, finally, the inclusion of the comic in state-supported cultural and educational projects (Fernández et al., 2023: 5).

With these three phenomena front of mind, the collection offers vital insights about the development of Latin American comics that speak to the evolution of comics in the 21^st century more broadly. Comics have long been intertwined with the construction of national identity, for better or worse, and the rise of the graphic novel in the latter half of the 20th century and the Internet at the turn of the 21^st century has drastically changed comics at the levels of form, content, production, and circulation. It is this attention to how comics respond to political and economic changes that makes Burning Down the House essential reading for all comics scholars

Burning Down the House is split into two sections that focus on “two main axes: politics, protests and memories on the one hand and gender and sexual dissidences on the other” (Fernández et al., 2023: 1). Part One: Politics, protest and memory “concerns itself with the different ways in which comics and graphic novels have dealt with the Latin American past, with the remembrance of lost struggles toward social justice and with newer processes of social protest which are reshaping the political landscape of our continent” (Fernández et al., 2023: 11). Contributor Hugo Hinojosa Lobos perhaps best sums this up when he describes “the clash between a discourse from history and another articulated from memory,” in his chapter on social protest comics in response to Chile’s 2019 “social outburst” (Hinojosa Lobos, 2023: 120). Chilean comics artists, Hinojosa Lobos argues, created a visual archive of the social outburst that acted as “a historical document and a testimony of a collective memory,” one that challenged official national narratives (Hinojosa Lobos, 2023: 129). Comics as a form of collective memory is a through-line that connects the chapters in Part One, especially Laura Nallely Hernández Nieto’s chapter on how comics remember the 1971 and 2012 student movements in México and Elena Masarah Revuelta and Gerardo Vilches Fuentes’ comparative analysis of the politics of memory in Chilean and Spanish comics that depict dictatorship. Another important contribution of Part One is its attention to histories of enslavement, anti-Blackness, and Black liberation in Latin America--histories that often get White-washed or erased under the colonial framework of mestizaje. Both Marilda Lopes Pinheiro Queluz’s chapter “Between comics and memories, other stories of Brazil” and Ivan Lima Gomes’ chapter “Black visualities in Brazilian comics: a historical overview” take up Afro-Brazilian comic artist Marcelo D’Salete’s Angola Janga (2017), a graphic novel about the establishment of the “Quilombo dos Palamares,” one of the largest Maroon settlements of formerly enslaved peoples in seventeenth-century Brazil. Lima Gomes’ chapter offers an especially powerful analysis of how Afro-Brazilian comics artists draw on “the potency of Black visual culture in comics” to resist historical erasure and to picture the complexities of Black life and liberation on the page (Lima Gomes, 2023; 115).

Part Two: Genre and sexual dissidence “deals with the way comics and graphic novels in Latin America have incorporated the demands for more diversity, for female and sexually diverse authors and for a representation in which they are present” (Fernández et al., 2023: 13). Jorge Sánchez’s chapter on Argentinian artist Nacha Vollenweider’s Notas al pie (2017) and Chilean artist Vicho Plaza’s Las sinventuras de Jaime Pardo (2013) problematizes the disembodied, authoritative narrator that has dominated documentary comics and comics criticism. As Sánchez argues, the discontinuous temporalities of migration and memory represented in these comics fundamentally “affect the presented bodies, turning them into precarious witnesses” (Sánchez, 2023: 151). Sánchez’s chapter significantly contributes to and complicates understandings of graphic embodiment and visual witnessing, two areas of scholarship that have surged since Hillary Chute’s influential work in Graphic Women (2010) and Disaster Drawn (2016). Janek Scholz examines the possibilities and failures of comic artivismo in the face of “the vulnerability of the trans community, above all for trans women of color and for elderly trans people” (Sánchez, 2023: 215), in a chapter that builds on Darieck Scott and Ramzi Fawaz’s formulation of comics as “as queer orientation devices” (Scott and Fawaz, 2018: 203). Jasmin Wrobel’s chapter, which traces a genealogy of “comics made by women and developed in the Peruvian fanzine circuit,” is one of my favorites in this section and will leave you with a rich reading list. Marcella Murillo’s chapter crucially critiques the misrepresentation of Chola (mixed race Indigenous women) mothers, daughters, and heroines in Bolivian theatre and comics. As Murillo argues, male and non-Indigenous creators often create fictional Chola characters are that conform to the nationalist project of mestizaje and contribute to marginalization of real Chola populations. Overall, the collection’s attention to multiple forms of difference and dissidence—gendered, sexual, and ethnoracial—resists the mythology of mestizaje and privileges perspectives that have often been marginalized within Latinidad.

Laura Cristina Fernández, Amadeo Gándolfo, and Pablo Turnes’ Burning Down the House: Latin American Comics in the 21^st Century is an ambitious collection, not only in its geographic and cultural scope but also in its central claims and contributions. The chapters speak to the shared histories of (neo)colonialism, imperialism, colorism, racism, neoliberalism, and political repression and resistance that shape Latin America while discussing the countries, cultures, and comics at hand with incredible detail, nuance, and specificity. Speaking to some of these connections in their introduction, the editors, citing Waldo Ansaldi and Verónica Giordano, understand Latin America “as a totality” that “is really composed of many diversities” (Ansaldi & Giordano, 2012: 25; Fernández et al., 2023: 3). In many ways, that is just what they have created in their collection, a body of scholarship through which we might begin to approach the totality of Latin American comics and unravel the many diversities therein.

References

Ansaldi, Waldo, and Verónica Giordano. 2012. América Latina: La construcción del orden Vol. 1. Buenos Aires: Ariel.

Fernández, Laura Cristina; Amadeo Gándolfo, Amadeo; and Pablo Turnes, eds. 2023. Burning Down the House: Latin American Comics in the 21^st Century. New York: Routledge.

Scott, Darieck, and Ramzi Fawaz. 2018. “Queer about Comics.” American Literature. 90 (2): 197-219.

 

Maite Urcaregui (she/they) is an Assistant Professor of English and Comparative Literature at San José State University. Her research and teaching explore Latinx and multiethnic American literatures and comics through feminist, queer, and critical race theories and histories. She is co-editor, with Fernanda Díaz-Basteris, of Latinx Comics Studies: Critical and Creative Crossings, forthcoming from Rutgers University Press.