While reading Faith Erin Hicks'
The War at Ellsmere (
TWAE), a graphic novel about a teenaged scholarship student, Jun, struggling to adapt to the strange new environment of her prep school, I couldn't help but be reminded of two adult prose novels that feature the same plot point: Curtis Sittenfeld's
Prep and Natsuo Kirino's
Grotesque, although according to Booklist,
TWAE is appropriate for 5th-8th graders. This enriched the reading experience for me, because I was able to note similarities among the three works and compare and contrast each author's female protagonist and critique of/commentary on the institution. (I'm not sure how much the readerships for the books actually overlap, but, well, I read all of them.)
The similarities in the three books are fascinating, especially considering that each book's tone differs significantly — Kirino's
Grotesque is savage and darkly comic, Sittenfeld's is rather mild and Hicks' is a positive affirmation of kid's-lit-friendly virtues such as Stand Up for Yourself and Your Friends — and the three female creators are from culturally divergent backgrounds: Hicks is Canadian, Sittenfeld is American and Kirino is Japanese.[1] Each used the claustrophobic, cut-off-from-the-world situation (boarding schools, in the case of
Prep and
TWAE, and an "elite" school in
Grotesque) to highlight and explore questions of class, money, status, competition, success, inability to conform, and bullying, particularly among women. (Sittenfeld and Kirino also examine the aftereffects of boarding school as their characters age and enter into the larger society.)
Though each book's protagonist is different in temperament, there's a moment in each where the scholarship student, whose pride in her academic achievement (and, by extension, self-image) suffers a blow when she realizes that she's no longer at the front of the pack, and that regaining that position will not only be more difficult, but, in the case of
Prep and
Grotesque, impossible. In each book, also, the protagonist (Lee in
Prep, Jun in
TWAE and the unnamed narrator in
Grotesque) makes one liminal friend who understands the lay of the land, but remains relatively low on the food chain. (Sittenfeld and Kirino also provide more socially awkward foils for their heroines, but Hicks efficiently has the character of Cassie do double duty.) Each protagonist also has a foil that represents what she lacks and is forced, even if only internally, into constant comparison, if not outright rivalry. In all three works, by the end of the book, none of the three main characters have worked their way "in."
However, this means different things for each of the main characters. Although all three are in turns and in degree relatable and unlikable, they have disparate personalities. The protagonists in
Prep and
Grotesque start at as social climbers, whereas Hicks' Jun casts herself in the role of an outsider from the beginning:
she announces, "I'm here to learn, not make friends." In demeanor, while Sittenfeld's Lee and Kirino's narrator would come across as defensively snobbish and somewhat desperate, their lonely, insecure natures are fundamentally dissimilar: Lee just needs to stop judging everything (including herself) by outside appearances, while Kirino's narrator is profoundly malevolent. (That said, there were times where some of those characters' thoughts were quite similar to some of my own, from the past, and I would wager other bookish girls', too.)
In counterpoint, Hicks reveals Jun's use of brashness-to-the-point-of-obnoxiousness to mask her trepidation in the opening sequence of
TWAE. Jun is well aware of the clichés of the genre, challenging resident mean girl Emily: "Make fun of my thrift store clothes, my ten dollar haircut, my single working mother …" However, when Jun realizes that she's alienating her roommate,
she dials it down and eventually reveals some vulnerability, and transitions from a rebel to a protector. (Jun is also the only one whose milieu includes supernatural forces.)
Of course, though they employ a similar conflict, each author uses different techniques to reach different conclusions.
Prep is told from an older Lee's point of view as she looks back. Sittenfeld's measured message, which she reiterated at a reading I was present for, was that having attended (and taught) at a boarding school herself, she felt you have your whole life to go away: the benefits of prep schools did not outweigh the damage of being separated from family at that time. (Audience members who had attended prep schools did not take too this too kindly, suggesting that perhaps the problem was not with the system, but with her.)
Grotesque is told primarily from the perspective of a middle-aged, unreliable, unnamed narrator, although it shifts points of view: it not only indicts the school system, but Japan's gender politics and more generally, treatment of any kind of Other. (Kirino's puncturing of the equivalent of Horatio Alger Jr. myth via the character of Kazue has a sickening impact.)
TWAE is told in third person: there are no thought balloons (though Hicks cheats a bit by having Jun talk to herself: when Cassie asks her what she's doing, she replies, "[…] narrating") and about three captions, two of which establish time and another which quotes earlier dialogue.
Hicks has the added advantage of telling her tale in the comics medium: her thick-brushed black lines are edgy rather than slick: she crosshatches finer lines on faces to add expressiveness and emphasize the planes. She has also mastered telling details,
such as hairdos (queen bee Emily's bob is sleek and flips up at the ends, while Jun's bob is chunky and no-fuss).[2] In regards to the milieu, in expert graytones and black and white, Hicks conveys the rich textures of both Ellsmere and the surrounding forest (and the menace hiding in each). After enduring her trials, by the end of
TWAE, Jun is prepared to Change the World (or, at least, prep school) for the Better, leaving the reader with a strong possibility of a just future. With unicorns.
Notes:
[1] I'm an unabashed fan of Kirino's work, and I highly recommend her pulpy, feminist noir novel Out.
[2] In a scene that emphasizes their closeness, we see Jun's mother cutting her hair.
Image credits:
The War at Ellsmere ©2008 Faith Erin Hicks
Prep cover design ©2005 Random House
Grotesque cover design ©2007 Knopf
Kristy Valenti currently works for The Comics Journal and Fantagraphics Books, Inc.
Uncharted Territory is © Kristy Valenti, 2008
