talli: daughter of the moon

The art is the first thing I notice when I pick up a graphic novel. I know this isn’t groundbreaking, but stay with me. If the art appeals, I am sold on reading the story. I have a particular weakness for detailed linework and innovative use of perspectives, and Sourya’s young adult graphic novel Talli: Daughter of the Moon, translated by François Vigneault, has these in spades. Ergo, I was interested immediately in its classic adventure story, set in a fantastical medieval past.

 

Talli is a Summoner: a nearly extinct people, hunted by those who fear their mysterious powers. As a baby, she was adopted by Lord Koska, and all was well for many years... But one day, their castle is sacked by Koska's rival, Lord Ulric. Talli escapes in the chaos and darkness with the help of the noble (some might say too noble) knight Sir Alan.

With Ulric's forces hot on her heels, Talli and Alan keep one step ahead, gathering a motley crew of companions and protectors that includes the lethargic-but-incredible swordsman Lélo. Ulric's Captain Nina pursues them doggedly, but she is unaware of the secret of Talli's blood: the secret of the Summoners!

Title character Talli (or Lady Talli to you, commoner!) is a girl with mysterious antecedents, distinctive hair and jewelry (think Sailor Moon, but medieval), and a history of being locked up in her adoptive father’s castle for her own good. When other nobles sniff out her powers (?!), she must flee before they capture her. On the way, she amasses a crew made up of a loyal-but-dim knight, an oddball merchant with an uncanny nose for treasures, and a young boy with excellent sword skills. Will they be able to evade the special brigade? Will Lady Talli’s past and powers be revealed? Read to find out!

 

As with the first in any series, there is a lot of exposition in this volume, though it is broken up by fight scenes as various people discover that Talli is on the run and try to capture her for profit. Talli herself doesn’t know her past or the extent of her powers, and doesn’t say or do a lot (aka doesn’t have agency) for the first three quarters of the volume. I realize that this is the first in a series, but it doesn’t quite coalesce until the final few pages. Talli’s band are in a rush to make it to asylum in a foreign land, and they respond more to the fight others bring to them than anything else.

 

Unfortunately, the dialogue does not flow easily in parts, and it seems as though some humor is lost (in translation? unclear) as well. There’s also a creepy bit about Summoner powers manifesting during menstruation that feels gender essentialist and like a throwback to fantasy stories from 30-40 years ago. To be clear, I don’t think menstruation is creepy, but I am wary of how it will be treated in the narrative, since it is tied to Summoner magic. Menstruation = calling monsters into being? Seems like a bad formula! But what do I know.

 

Let’s get back to positives, aka the art! Sourya’s illustrations are exquisite: black linework on white pages in pen and ink, with lots of heavy lines, fine cross-hatching, and finer details around the characters' faces. The art was penciled digitally, and hand-inked on paper, which the artist demonstrates in a mini "The Making of Talli" comic in the backmatter. There are a wide variety of perspectives (many aerial views), and several panels focus not only on the characters, but a sense of the land and landscape that feels video game-inspired. It is truly beautiful, and I am just as much a fan of the art as I was at the start!

 

In all, Talli: Daughter of the Moon is an adventure story with some promise. Volume 1 lags in parts, but fans of sword fights, daring escapes, and a video game-crossed-with-manga aesthetic will love it.

 

Recommended for: fans of historical fantasy graphic novels and manga, and anyone who likes to play video or computer games set in medieval Europe or a quasi-medieval setting.

 

Talli: Daughter of the Moon will be available from Oni Press on October 25, 2022.

 

Fine print: I received an ARC of this title for review consideration from the publisher. I did not receive any compensation for this post.

our dining table

When I’m too busy to think, my optimal reading choices (if I can muster up the energy!) are: graphic novels, novellas, and short stories. My reading in 2020 so far has consisted of: 4 novellas and 2 graphic novels. I think that tells you all you need to know about how the month has gone! The graphic novel I finished this morning, Mita Ori’s Our Dining Table, was a delightful escape from reality. It also made me ravenously hungry for ramen. Luckily, there’s a ramen shop down the street…

Eating around other people is a struggle for salaryman Yutaka, despite his talent for cooking. All that changes when he meets Minoru and Tane—two brothers, many years apart in age—who ask him to teach them how to make his delicious food! It’s not long before Yutaka finds himself falling hard for the meals they share together—and falling in love!

Our Dining Table follows the solitary Yutaka, a young man who is a talented cook but doesn’t like to eat with others due to past trauma. When he bumps into the adorable Tane and his older brother Minoru at the park during his lunch hour, he is charmed by their relationship. Four-year-old Tane, in turn, is obsessed with Yutaka’s homemade food.  So begins an association, and then a relationship, first based on a shared love of food… that eventually leads to love love.

First of all, I have to give a shout-out to the Cybils, because if I hadn’t been on the graphic novel award committee in 2018, I never would have added myself to the Seven Seas (a manga publisher) email newsletter. And then I never would have heard of Our Dining Table, which is, for the record, ADORABLE. My interest was piqued by this book because: food + graphic novel = instant yes. THEN I saw that it also featured an LGBTQ+ romance, and I was like, yes, okay, let’s GO. One of my favorite books of 2019 (Bloom) was another graphic novel that mixed food and love. It also has the CUTEST cover? So really, I was primed to be enchanted by this book.

And then, it had the gall to be just… super sweet?? With good pacing, great art, and moments of light angst that pulled my heartstrings??? Ugh, yeah, it was wonderful. And satisfying. Even if I am still hungry. Ha!

But yeah, let’s dig in to what I liked so much about it. There was the food, of course – Yutaka ingratiates himself to (and integrates into) the Ueda family recipe by recipe. First he shows them how he makes rice, and then onigiri, and then curry... and in turn they accept him unquestioningly and show him their own recipes. The mentions of food don’t break up the narrative, but they sound (and look!) mouth-wateringly good.

The increasing intimacy between Minoru and Yutaka is also played exactly right. Their relationship is sweet, slow-moving, and comes along with growing trust and interruptions from a certain excitable younger brother. Each of them open up, bit by bit, to the other, and yes it may be idealized but it’s so delightful. This book was a joy to while away an hour with, and I can already tell I’ll want to pick it up again.

Also, the art! I don’t read many manga style graphic novels, but as far as I can tell the black on white line art was fairly standard for the genre. HOWEVER, I feel attacked by how cute Tane was. Like Studio Ghibli cute. Every time he was excited (which was nearly always) his eyes got even more enormous and it was unsustainably adorable! I also thought Mita Ori’s use of texture and patterns was excellent – and of course the panels featuring food were incredible. I remain impressed overall, but the art was really special.

In conclusion: if anything in my review struck a chord, you should read this book, preferably with some snacks nearby. It’s adorable (have I used that word enough?), and it’ll make you hungry and happy all at once.

Recommended for: readers who like gentle, quiet love stories, à la Kevin Panetta and Savanna Ganucheau’s young adult graphic novel Bloom, fans of light manga, and those intrigued by graphic novels about food.

Interested in reading other posts about food? Check out Beth Fish Reads' Weekend Cooking!

the color of earth

Have you ever participated in a readathon? I hadn’t before. Though I have devoted whole days to reading before (many times!), I didn’t understand how awesome or intense a 24-hour readathon would be. If you are interested in participating, this is the one I did, and the next one is scheduled for October 20, 2018. So, how does this relate to Kim Dong Hwa’s graphic novel The Color of Earth? I read it during the April readathon, of course!

First love is never easy.

Ehwa grows up helping her widowed mother run the local tavern, watching as their customers - both neighbors and strangers - look down on her mother for her single lifestyle. Their social status isolates Ehwa and her mother from the rest of the people in their quiet country village. But as she gets older and sees her mother fall in love again, Ehwa slowly begins to open up to the possibility of love in her life.

In the tradition of My Antonia and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, from the pen of the renowned Korean manwha creator Kim Dong Hwa, comes a trilogy about a girl coming of age, set in the vibrant, beautiful landscape of pastoral Korea. 

Ehwa is the daughter of a widowed tavern-keeper in rural Korea, and though life is at times lonely due to her mother’s social status, it is also filled with unexpected beauty. As Ehwa grows up, her understanding of the world grows as well, and she relies on her mother for guidance and wisdom. But as her mother is letting romantic love back in, Ehwa discovers first attraction as well – one that may be complicated.

In this first of three connected volumes, the author writes and illustrates vignettes adapted from his mother’s life as a young girl growing up in pastoral Korea from many years past. The book is focused on Ehwa’s coming of age, and her rich inner life is the heart of the story (instead of dialogue, which most graphic novels rely on heavily).

There is much to love here: excellent art (black and white line work in an anime style with exquisite details in some panels), a strong mother-daughter relationship that features advice-giving, secret-telling, and teaching, an introduction to Korean culture through the meanings of flowers, among other things.

The story is also, if you read it closely, told through a male lens. The book’s blurb compares it to coming-of-age classics A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and My Ántonia. While it does share many similarities with those books, including a portrayal of Ehwa’s budding sexuality over time, it does not have some of the… how shall I say this… gentleness? or understanding? maybe the word I’m looking for is empathy? for a young girl growing up in a world designed for men. I can’t describe it any better than that, but you’ll (probably) understand what I mean.

So, who is this book for? I think it’s for fans of traditional manga or anime – folks who’ve read graphic novels before. But it is also a beautiful introduction into Korean dress, culture, art styles, and so on – and it could be used in education units. It would also be a good pick for those who like graphic novels but don’t usually read historical fiction.

In all, The Color of Earth is a quiet read with strong emotional underpinnings and gorgeous art. I’d pair it with The Undertaking of Lily Chen.

Recommended for: graphic novel fans ages 14 and up, and those who appreciate coming-of-age and historical fiction.