Listen to this post:
|
One of the greatest literary tragedies of the 21st century (so far) has been the inexplicable decision not to publish the final two volumes of Riad Sattouf’s groundbreaking biographical masterwork Arab of the Future in English. The first volume was published back in 2015 to major acclaim, while the second, third and fourth… not so much. Which is bewildering, given how Sattouf was able to keep the incredible momentum he established in the first part going throughout the series.
There was something special in Sattouf’s uncanny ability to capture childhood nuance that felt unapologetically honest and raw, completely absent from judgment (née, unsullied) by learned adult prejudices and expectations of what modern “children’s” literature these days should look like. Despite his association with the subject matter – it was about him, after all – he somehow managed to avoid the pitfalls of Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle and let the story speak for itself.
I always suspected a big reason behind the dwindling media and critical interest in Sattouf’s coming-of-age saga was how often it presented an unsanitized, often messy look at the world through the eyes of a child learning to navigate the vacillating the sometimes dueling expectations of his Syrian and French heritage. Sattouf was able to document his own life with a clarity and integrity that must have terrified educators and academics who’d rather the real world look and function more like the Disneyfied fantasy land they think it should be.
Its messaging was everything a modern fable, especially one rendered with cartoons, wasn’t supposed to be. But for those seeking honesty from their books, in all its messy and often uncomfortable forms, it was like oxygen after emerging from the sea. I can’t imagine something like Esther’s Notebooks being published in a mainstream American publication in today’s cultural climate. What a shame.
With that in mind, it’s kind of incredible to see Riad Satttouf utilize this same gift with Esther’s Notebooks (Les cahiers d’Esther, translated by Sam Taylor), a serialized comic which illustrates his conversations with a friend’s preteen daughter as single-page strips, changing the names but retaining the raw honesty and unfiltered opinions of its pint-sized subject as she describes her world and philosophy to the artist.
*Note: there have been versions of Esther’s Notebooks published (in English) prior to the release of this considerably thicker volume from Pantheon Books, which collects 156 strips from the first three French editions. Unlike the Arab series, let’s hope we see the rest of them!
The first time we meet Esther, the exuberant star of Esther’s Notebooks, she’s just 9 years-old and living with her family in the 17th arrondissement of Paris. She’s a little narcissistic, vain and materialistic, maybe a bit racist. She’s also caring, precocious, and very lovely. She adores her father, tolerates her mother, and thinks her older brother an idiot. She’s obsessed with iPhones, fashion and pop stars, which is a shame as she’s not allowed to have an iPhone yet, not even an old one. Tragically, this makes the poorest one in her family.
As time goes by we’ll see best friends come and go, romances flourish and end (marriage and divorce on the playground happen on the daily), she’ll gain a baby brother, decide she wants to be a YA editor (not author), and learn heartbreak happens at every age. In short, Esther is a little girl in the process of discovering who she is. More so, she’s a little girl who notices things, even when she doesn’t fully understand them yet.
Sattouf’s genius, once again, is interpreting Esther’s observations without interference, presented without judgment, warts and all. And some of what Esther says can get pretty warty.
For some, Esther’s observations may seem ‘problematic’, a word whose usage says a lot more about the utterer than whatever they’re uttering about. But if Esther’s acerbic and sometimes abrasive remarks sound offensive, and they certainly will to some readers, consider that so much of what she “sees” are reflections of the culture adults have built around her, the messiness of what she’s saying at odds with what’s socially acceptable for even ‘noticing’, let alone discussing.
For some, such offense may come from her comments on race and sexuality, while others may be shocked at just how much influence marketing and the superficiality of pop-culture has on their children. Spoiler: way too much.
Take her reaction to the terrorist attack on the Charlie Hebdo office in 2015, which saw over a dozen people killed (all colleagues of Sattouf). When school officials ask students for solemnity she can’t help but giggle at their seriousness, more concerned about getting back a BFF bracelet than with terrorists. “So at least it had a happy ending!”, she declares, a reminder that what’s important to adults isn’t necessarily important to children.
Or while at summer camp trying to navigate the complications of both race and sexuality, but especially the opposite sex. When a boy lifts up a female friend’s towel to sneak a peek Esther is quick to shout him away (“Piss off racist!”), but is quickly reprimanded by the same friend for butting in. “What if I wanted him to check out my arse? Nobody decides for me!” The friend quickly apologizes for being rude, yet still declares her love for the offending perv.
Her assertiveness may surprise some readers expecting childish musings from children, her interpretations of what she’s supposed to think at odds with how she actually does, like her unapologetic view that men should be allowed to marry loads of women. “Sorry if that offends you, but I’m allowed to think what I want!” Of course, she’s quick to add that girls should also be able to marry loads of boys, too.
Race, i.e. immigration, plays a larger role as kids interact with one another on the playground and elsewhere as tensions arise between boring babtous (whites) and the growing influx of rebeus (Arabs) or renois (Blacks). From swears, slurs, and even porn channels we see kids begin to mimic the language and behaviors of those around them based more on their place in the coolness hierarchy rather than prejudice.
Through it all, however, Esther maintains a philosophy that’s just as effective as any you’ll find in a self-help book: “It doesn’t matter if you’re Chinese, Arab, white, Black or even fat, if you’re blonde and bendy, you’ll succeed.” Her favorite example? Beyoncé, of course.
While it’s a crying shame we’re unlikely to see the final chapters of his Arab of the Future series in English (I’m still holding out hope), Riad Sattouf’s impeccable way of capturing the essence of childhood is once again evident in Esther’s Notebooks, and Pantheon’s massive 156-page edition is a fantastic way to experience this superb comic. Many of the celebrities and places Esther talks about may be unfamiliar to non-Francophiles (Google is free), but that matters little as kids are pretty much the same around the world; loud, boisterous, and completely charming.