Last week, I finished reading Sleepwalking Through History, about Reagan's tenure and its legacy. (Hint: we're living in it.) After that, needing a bit of a break from depressing nonfiction, I read two graphic novels in quick succession: Goodbye, Chunky Rice and Mail Order Bride. Fast reads, they are, but they've stuck in my mind. Goodbye, Chunky Rice is a whimsical tale about two creatures, a mouse named Grendel and a turtle, the Chunky Rice of the title, who part when the turtle goes on a long sea journey. The story is told partly through flashbacks showing their past relationship, and partly by showing the two of them going their separate ways, as Chunky settles in on the boat and Grendel ponders a life alone. Another plot concerns the man who takes Chunky down to the pier and has his own stories of loss to live with. Although some of the elements of this book are grotesque (those easily disturbed by violence against animals might have nightmares about one page), it is overall a sweet and touching story about the endurance of love.
The central relationship in Mail Order Bride, on the other hand, is anything but sweet. Monty, a geeky toy-store owner with a fetish for Asian beauties who lives in a small town in Canada, decides he can't stand being alone any more and sends for a "mail order bride." He wants a loving, subservient wife who will be happy to stay home and help him with his shop. What he gets is Kyung Seo, a woman who speaks English perfectly and yearns for "change." She takes art classes, models nude, and makes new friends, while he sits at home and fumes.
Naturally, the shit hits the fan eventually, and they have a violent confrontation that leaves them both with greater knowledge and understanding of each other, but no love.
Perhaps it's because I read the two of them so close together, or perhaps it's just because I am a pretentious ex-literature major at heart, but I found myself thinking about the themes these books have in common. There's definitely something in both of them about the importance of accepting the person you love for who they are. Grendel lets Chunky go, because she knows that he needs to. Monty and Kyung Seo, on the other hand, are tragically unable to appreciate each other or share anything about themselves.
What struck me even more about these books, though, was the way they touch on the way that people's possessions become a stand-in for love and connection.
In Mail Order Bride, we see Monty's collections, and his obsessiveness about them, through his bride's horrified eyes. She thinks they're tacky, but more than that, she senses that he uses them as a substitute for human interaction. But as things that become loved beings, the toys also get to be the target of immense cruelty. One small wind-up toy appears throughout the book, clearly adored by Monty (we see the relief on his face when it is tossed towards him and he catches it in one scene), only to be violently crushed towards the end by Kyung Seo as she takes out her anger upon the shop. She knows very well by this point that there is no greater way to hurt her husband — not even leaving him would sting so much.
Chunky tries to hold onto his possessions as well, but is not permitted to take most of them with him on the boat. He watches in horror as the captain tosses away his beloved Motown records into the water. He sits on deck and gazes longingly at a picture of him and Grendel, but then a big storm comes and the photo is washed away in the confusion. In the end, though, it's clear that the connection with Grendel remains, with or without all the stuff to remind him of her.
Good books.