Nothing to Declare

Vol 1

May 2023

Head Librarian Sarah Eldred tells us all we need to know about graphic novels. Graphic novels have a firm and dedicated space in the library at Teddies; with around 650 titles the section has become very popular!

Graphic novels are primarily created for adults and young adults. They use words and pictures simultaneously or ‘sequential art’ to tell a story and just like other books they come in all shapes, sizes, genres and subjects and can be fiction, non-fiction, biographical or adapted works. They come in a range of art styles, could be in black and white or in colour, could be standalone stories or form part of a series. Absolutely anyone and everyone! For example, pupils who enjoy art might read graphic novels to develop appreciation of different art forms. For those studying Shakespeare reading the stories reimagined in manga style might be a fun way to get into the text and for pupils who want to develop their reading skills in other languages being able to determine meaning from pictures could be a very good way to help develop vocabularies. Manga is a specific style of artwork which originated in Japan. The animated version of manga is called anime and both are hugely popular with teens. Unfortunately, both manga and anime have a reputation for being somewhat risqué but there are plenty of options which are suitable and we stock as many as we can find in the library. Manga series can be really long - some of them run into hundreds of books! Because they originated in Japan many manga books are read from back-to-front and from right-to-left.

When most people start reading graphic novels they will typically read them quickly. Interestingly, in the opposite way to reading a text-only book, the

more you read graphic novels, the slower you should become at reading them (before possibly speeding up again later!). This is because from a very young age we have trained our brains to prioritise the written word and we tend to therefore skim over pictures; as you adapt and develop the skill of reading pictures and words simultaneously your reading speed should actually slow down and reading graphic novels becomes even more enjoyable! Though graphic novels are becoming less stigmatised there remains an impression amongst some that they are a less appropriate or less literary choice than a text-only book. Interestingly graphic novels first became demonised in large part due to one man, Dr. Fredric Wertham, who in the 1950’s published highly exaggerated and debatably falsified data linking comic books with juvenile delinquency and illiteracy, the damage done carries on to this day. The contrasting truth is that graphic novels can increase reader vocabulary by using words at a demonstrably higher level of reader proficiency due to using pictures for meaning making. In addition, in a world where we increasingly use graphs, tables, charts, infographics and social media and screen and in one where viewers expect to see events summed up in a picture, being able to proficiently analyse meaning from pictures can be considered a valuable skill! Teddies Library has a wide collection of graphic novels including both fiction and non-fiction, stand-alone stories and stories spanning multiple books. The collection includes biographies and graphic novels adapted from well-known books such as To Kill a Mockingbird or Noughts and Crosses for example. There are over 180 manga books to peruse and even books on how to write and draw your own graphic novel! The section is well worth checking out and can be found at the quad end of the Oxley Library.

Intimations by Zadie Smith is a collection of six essays written against the backdrop of lockdown. I personally chanced upon this book when I was looking for a way to comprehend the confusing realities of the pandemic. Having never experienced a sudden detachment from social interaction and in light of movements such as Black Lives Matter, I found wisdom in Smith’s writing. One of her essays, “Suffering Like Mel Gibson”, was particularly illuminating. Smith illustrates how suffering is absolute, not relative. She tells of a seventeen-year-old girl who killed herself because she could not “go out and see her friends”. Before we start to make judgements about this girl and compare her experience to someone worse off, Smith reminds us that “her suffering, like all suffering, was an absolute in her own mind, and applied itself to her body and mind as if uniquely shaped for her, and she could not overcome it and so she died.” Remembering this in today’s world is pertinent, where empathy is scarce, and people are quick to judge. Smith’s essays capture the zeitgeist of our tumultuous times. Her writing style is conversational and natural, making her ideas accessible to all audiences. Especially as a young person figuring out this complex world, her writing shines a light on how to navigate it with empathy.

Reviewer: Sam-I Liew, Cooper Lodge

Animal Farm by George Orwell is a classic political metaphor that tells the story of a group of farm animals who overthrow their human owner and establish a socialist government. The novel is a scathing critique of Stalinist Russia, and the events that unfold on the farm mirror the rise of the Soviet Union under Stalin. The story is told by the animal’s perspective, whilst having unique characters hoping to create a society where the animals can be equal, free, and happy. Under the leadership of the pigs, the animals establish a new order called Animalism, and everything seems to be going well at first. However, over time, the pigs become corrupted by power, and they become more and more like the humans they had originally rebelled against. They rewrite the rules to suit their own interests, oppress the other animals, and eventually become indistinguishable from their former human masters. The novel ends with the pigs and humans sharing a drink at a party, while the other animals look on in despair, realizing that their revolution has been betrayed. This book heavily appealed to me as I studied history and having looked at Stalinist Russia was intrigued to see how it was portrayed in literature form. The story is a commentary on the corruption of power, the dangers of totalitarianism, and the importance of remaining vigilant against the abuse of authority.

Reviewer: Theo Verdin-Mulot, Apsley

As a child, I would immerse myself in storybooks that told of wild adventures and ambitious crusades. Too often, these stories told of a princess saved by a knight in shining armour or a hero embarking on his quest. Stories have the power to captivate. The stories that we hear and read as children subconsciously mould us into who we are today. Children are particularly impressionable. I wished I had discovered more stories of strong, powerful heroines so their stories could empower me. Women have facilitated storytelling for centuries. They have passed important values down through word of mouth, serving as storytellers and keepers of stories. Yet historically, women’s perspectives and stories have been disproportionately underrepresented in literature and media. Our patriarchal society forces women to take a backseat and often treats female characters as extras to glorify the male hero. Women have told stories for generations but until the late nineteenth century, they were not granted the same access to publishers as men due to their lack of access to education and resources. They were also not recognised or legally allowed to become publishing professionals. Countless women worked under the guise of a male relative’s name or obliged to use the most invent ive pen names to gain respect. In A Room of One’s Own , Virginia Woolf invents a fictional sister for Shakespeare, Judith, who was just as gifted as William. However, unlike William, as a girl she is deprived of the same opportunities. Forced marriage silenced her gifts and her life ends tragically in suicide. Judith is the embodiment of the thousands of intelligent women who were never given a chance to the tell their stories or publish their work. Some even had their work stolen from them. One of these women is the great Zelda Fitzgerald. Most would be familiar with her husband’s novel The Great Gatsby . Arguably its most poignant line, “I hope she’ll be a fool – that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool,” was taken from Zelda’s mouth as she uttered those words when their daughter was born. Zelda also recognised parts of her diary entries and letters in her husband’s work. She was not the only one who was overshadowed by her male counterpart. The most influential English philosopher of the nineteenth century, John Stuart

Mill, wrote in the dedication to On Liberty , that Harriet, his wife, had been responsible for all the “great thoughts” he had.

Though women are now allowed to publish their work and must no longer hide behind their masterpieces, there is still a pressing need for female narratives in storytelling in literature, film, and media. Without these narratives, we lose stories of women’s accomplishments and failures, their colourful lives and relationships, and stories replete with morals and life lessons. Young girls and boys would grow up believing that success in the past was only achieved by men, and therefore it is only men that can excel in the future. Women’s stories have the innate power to subvert the ge nder stereotypes and norms that have been deeply rooted in society. Inspirational stories illuminate the future and give young girls hope to chase their dreams. Authentic, raw, and vulnerable voices that convey their feelings and experiences hit home most and teach society understanding and empathy. Stories are bigger than us – they hold a mirror to society and expose its flaws. “Stories matter. Many stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign, but stories can also be used to empower and to humanize. Stories can break the dignity of a people, but stories can also repair that broken dignity.” This quote by Chimamanda Adichie from her The Danger of a Single Story perfectly encapsulates the power of stories to touch, reveal, and distil the human experience. Women need to be given the space to share tell their stories. Space that has been denied to them for far too long. For how can we ignore half of humanity’s expe rience?

Sam-I Liew, Cooper Lodge

For a long time there was a running joke in my family. Essentially, if anyone ever asked me what I was reading, some bright spark would wittily pipe up on my behalf: “ Five Have Plenty of Fun , isn’t it, Charles?” Hilarious, right? I mean, it’s a decent, solid novel for kids, and Enid Blyton hadn’t been cancelled in the early 1990s, so sticking to this classic seemed entirely reasonable. Admittedly, by the time I turned 25 and I was still hearing the same line, I began to feel slightly aggrieved. I had, after all, completed a bachelor’s degree in English Literature and Philosophy, and was about to begin a master’s in Literature. However, it wasn’t so much the texts I read at university as the novels I read for myself that have shaped me. I wasn’t always a reader, as the anecdote above would imply, but I did become one – at school I was pretty good at English (less so at maths) but my mum told me that if I wanted to study English as an A Level, I’d better start reading something other than the Famous Five. Here are a few of the standout books I have read since – books that have become major mile-markers on my reading journey. The dates roughly indicate when I first read the book, rather than its publication date. This is a memoir, written by former SAS vet Andy McNab. His real name is something else – he had to invent a nom de plume to protect his identity, which was one of the craziest and most exciting things I’d ever heard aged 14. It’s an utterly absorbing account of SAS squadron Bravo Two Zero’s disastrous secret mission behind enemy lines during the first Gulf War. The story is infamous – of the eight soldiers, three died, four were captured, and one got away (that was Chris Ryan, author of The One That Got Away , a rival account of the same mission). This inspired me to read the novels of Chris Ryan, Tom Clancy and Ian Fleming. Yep, the guy who wrote the James Bond novels.

I’d read Pride and Prejudice as a GCSE text. My appraisal as a fifteen-year old: take it or leave it. So when I picked up Emma a couple of years later, I wasn’t expecting much. But wow – this was different. The protagonist, Emma Woodhouse, is pretty obnoxious to be honest, an anti-hero of sorts, but also immensely likeable – funny, acerbic and full of energy. Maybe my first literary crush?! Of course, it’s a love story, but it’s not soppy. It’s brilliant. If I hadn’t enjoyed this so much, there’s no way I would have attempted to read Jane Eyre (by Charlotte Bronte) on a train journey from Arles in France to Venice in Italy (I read it from cover to cover in 24 hours #humblebrag). Admittedly, this is a novel I read at A Level. I mention it here though because it is unlike anything else I had ever read – it’s beautifully poetic, dark and gloomy, hopeful and cynical all at the same time. It’s set in 1920s New York and Long Island and is about a shadowy, mega-rich bootlegger named Jay Gatsby, formerly James Gatz, whose desperate attempt to win over the love of his life, Daisy Buchanan, ends in… well, read it and find out! I love this novel and often find myself flicking through its pages. It led me to read a lot of 20 th century American lit – Steinbeck, Salinger, Faulkner, Hemingway; and the playwrights Arthur Miller, Tennessee Williams and Edward Albee. Back to 20 th century America I’m afraid, but the other coast to Gatsby . Set amongst the San Francisco fog and rolling hills, this is one of the defining novels of the detective genre. Often misunderstood as popular trash ( it’s origins lie in ‘pulp fiction’, cheap magazines printed on recycled or pulped paper), it’s superbly written. I remember the feeling of gloomy terror and unease as the mystery unravels. The novel is the source of numerous genre-defining moments. And it has allowed me to better appreciate films such as Pulp Fiction and Sin City (you’ll have to wait until you’re 18 to

watch these, I’m afraid) and the glorious pop song, ‘Friends of Mr Cairo’, by Jon and Vangelis.

Perhaps a little pretentious, but I chose this 2000-page classic as my personal reading project when I began my bachelor’s degree at York. It was something of a reaction to the hordes of students that seemed inappropriately obsessed with Harry Potter ( The Order of the Phoenix was published that year). I rattled through the first chapters – it’s satirical and sharply observed – but it took me about six months to finish in its entirety. I remember also wading through hundreds of pages about midway through, when Tolstoy rather unreasonably decided to explain the complex and dull raison d'être of the Freemasons. That small blip apart, it turns out that Tolstoy was rather good at this writing business. For the uninitiated, War and Peace is a panoramic saga about a group of intertwining aristocratic Russian families as they navigate a tumultuous 15 year period at the start of the 19 th century. It’s probably the best thing I have ever read.

I’ve listed these two books together, even though they are quite different. I read them at roughly the same time, both having a strikingly profound effect on me. Smith’s debut novel focuses on the relationship between wartime friends, Samad Iqbal and Archie Jones, and their families. It was published in 2000 to much celebration, exploring Britain’s relationship with commonwealth immigrants. Kureishi’s semi -autobiographical novel follows the teenage years of Karim, a mixed-race Londoner forced to navigate the bourgeois suburbs of London in the 1970s. I chose to write about both these novels for my master’s dissertation, which focussed on the multitudinous perspectives of post-colonial London.

Of course, since 2008 I have read many other books that have entertained, inspired and disappointed me – but these seven have helped to shape my

reading tastes now. And I’ll admit, when I have the choice, I still hold a strong preference for the detective genre in all its glorious variety: the Nordic noir writing of Ragnar Jónasson, Steig Larsson and Maj Sjöwall & Per Wahlöö; the 19 th century Russian detective series by Boris Akunin; and the Los Angeles novels of Walter Moseley, to name but a few.