Like Mikey, I found reading Sabrina akin to watching a movie. One of the ways that this format is different from the movie is the power given to the reader about the passage of time: you are allowed to make time pass as quickly or slowly as you desire. There were a few moments where I think Drnaso effectively used this aspect of the graphic novel to heighten tension: where Calvin has to tell Teddy about Sabrina’s death (73), where Teddy is about to hear that the video of Sabrina’s murder had been leaked (107), and where Calvin and Teddy, with a knife in his hand, stand next to opposite sides of the bedroom door, juxtaposed (139) are three frame sequences that come to mind for me. In each of these sequences, Drnaso has planned that the last frames you see on the page, before you have to turn it, are where tension is the highest, and that positioning makes the suspense even greater. Even when the videotape is sent out to news outlets (68), I refuse to believe that it isn’t intentional that you have a frame as lighthearted as finding a Barney tape on the page to the left of the frame where it finally is confirmed that the video is of Sabrina’s murder; I found my eyes jumping past the former frame and to the latter upon turning the page because of the increasing tension and the suspicion of how this connects to the story, which only made the Barney comic even more horrific and foreboding, because you definitively know where the story is headed. Being able to choose the exact time frame you live in that is a powerful thing and adds so much to the experience of reading Sabrina.

I very much enjoyed reading Sabrina. I have not read many graphic novels, so I am not sure exactly how this text compares stylistically to somewhat canonical graphic novels. However, I feel as though the medium of the graphic novel was absolutely pertinent to the multiple narratives that Drnaso introduced throughout the text. Without the illustrations that Drnaso provides, I imagine that it would be quite hard to figure out what was currently happening in the novel as well as who was speaking. This is shown when the main narrative of Teddy and Calvin is at times interjected by Sandra’s response to her sister’s death and Calvin’s experience at work and with his ex wife and daughter. 

Additionally, I believe that the illustrations themselves carry a large portion of the narrative, as they help to demonstrate the characters’ reactions to certain events without any text, even though most of the characters’ expressions are usually quite blank. This is shown specifically with Teddy, as his reaction to Sabrina’s disappearance and later death has caused him to isolate himself and speak as little as possible. Teddy’s character is rather shown through his absence of words until the end of the novel, when he concerned himself with the disappearance of Calvin’s cat. Even though the images Drnaso illustrate are quite simple and the characters expressionless, I believe that he did an amazing job of carrying a compelling and engaging narrative throughout the entire novel. What surprised me the most was the shift in focus of characters in the text. When I first started reading the novel I thought Sabrina was going to be the protagonist, then Teddy, but then it became clear towards the end that Calvin is the main protagonist. I thought this was an interesting choice on Drnaso’s part, as Calvin is the character in the novel with the most distant connection to the tragedy, but it worked. I was still able to witness the grief of those more connected to Sabrina, like Sandra and Teddy. However, Calvin’s heavy involvement in the novel also gave us insight into his life and how he cared for his friend even though he was dealing with his own issues.

“Hey!” 

“Just seeing what you guys are laughing at,” she said, kissing Adam’s cheek while holding his phone behind her back. “I can be a bro!” 

“No, seriously, Casey — ” He grabbed at the phone, nearly falling out of the armchair. His friend, she was pretty sure his name was Tim, giggled from beside the coffee table as he watched. She scooted back out of his reach, spinning around to read the screen. 

It was a meme of a woman, pointing accusingly into the vague distance. She had massive breasts that nearly fell out of her shirt. Above her contorted face read “25 percent of the women in this country are on medication for mental illness,” and beneath her breasts, “it means 75 percent are running around untreated!” 

Adam snatched the phone from her slack grip. “It’s just a joke.” Seeing her expression, he added, “Somebody sent it to Tim. We were laughing at how stupid it was.” 

She looked at Tim, who was now staring rather solemnly at the carpet. “Someone sent it to Tim. Through your phone.” 

Adam winced. “Yup.” 

“You were laughing at how stupid it was?” 

“Yes. Well, the idea of it.” As Adam stammered, Tim bobbed his head doggedly from behind. He continued, “The depiction. Like the general manic energy of — ”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she said, quietly. Tim leaned in. “It’s not funny. I literally told you about my sister last weekend.” 

“Wait — what does that — you mean the Prozac?” 

“Dude.” Her gaze flickered to Tim, who was listening with reluctant obligation. “And it’s not just ‘the Prozac.’ I told you how long it took for me to convince my parents to let her go on meds.” 

“I know. I remember.” 

“And now you’re laughing at this, like it’s a joke. A sexist joke.” 

Tim inserted his pasty palm between her and Adam. “If I may,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“This isn’t your problem,” she said. How close were he and Adam? Adam didn’t mention his friends often, and Tim was one of the first she’d met since they’d started dating, just two weeks ago. She preferred his dog, Taco. “Could you please just let us have a minute?” 

“Sure, sure,” he responded, without retracting his hand. It looked awfully swattable, in that moment. “But if I could just say” — he cleared his throat — “doesn’t this prove the meme’s point?” He smiled without teeth. “I mean, it’s cool, like if you’re on your period right now. I would get that. And soz’, about your sister.” 

“Fuck.

I know that we all are shocked and probably wish we didn’t have to report on yet another senseless tragedy, but this is what we signed up for. The news isn’t always good; hell, it’s never good, and our feel-good stories are there just to make sure people don’t completely lose faith in the world. Good news isn’t news. No one cares if things are working the way that they’re supposed to.

And it isn’t senseless; there have to be reasons behind this, and we need to lay them out for our readers so that they don’t become hysterical. The last thing we want is to make people panic. What makes him different? What are some things that we should be aware of? We want to be very, very careful about generalizations, because those are what people latch on to. There might be commonalities somewhere, but we should err on the side of caution at all times here. Don’t make any bold claims if you can’t back them up. 

This was an fucking despicable act. I get that. 

But not everyone is evil. There have to be reasons behind this that we don’t understand yet, and our job is to get to the point where we can. I’m not fucking defending his actions. I just think that this used to be someone who couldn’t have done this. Something had to change. Our job is to find out what.”

The editor in chief stopped pacing the room and looked up at the newsroom. Scanning his eyes around the room, he saw carbon copies of reporters: hands on their heads, like they had a headache that had suddenly flared up, people staring down at their fingernails and biting their lower lips, eyes violently clenched together and abruptly opened. His monochrome painting was only interrupted by the new intern that started only two weeks prior. He wasn’t disaffected, no, he was grasping at his hair and blankly staring in front of him, but his eyebrow was slightly raised because of a stupid thought he couldn’t shake.

Why did something feel off about this speech?

Process Notes: 

I feel like I have this habit of having a good idea of what the last line of my piece is going to be, and I started writing with that in mind, only for that first attempt to be just dialogue, with a gut punch at the end, and I wasn’t satisfied with that. This version does also have the same structure: opening speech from the editor in chief, and looking at the reactions of those around him dealing with the tragedy, but I spent a little more time developing the latter than saying something arguably more of a gut punch (at the price of being probably a bit more inaccurate). I ended up pulling ideas from thoughts I’ve seen about coverage of tragedy, real and fictional, including Sabrina (and even maybe a thought or two from Lippman’s Liberty and the News). I think the words you don’t say are just as important as the ones you do, if not more important, and so highlighting a potential discrepancy without painfully attempting to construct one I think ends up being effective.

I am not too familiar with graphic novels. When reading Sabrina the first time, I found myself focusing more on the dialogue much more than the artwork in the panels. It wasn’t until reading the article and realizing the importance of the images, I was fully able to appreciate the way graphic novels tell a story. To me, the pacing of Sabrina is what makes it stand out from other literary works. The use of panels allow for a timeline to shift without the need for much explanation. That is, scene changes are not brought with an announcement and time can be fast-forwarded by using pictures as a kind of montage. What I thought was most interesting is in the way panels create the possibility for multiple character’s timelines to run in parallel. In these ways, Sabrina felt more like watching a film rather than reading a novel. 

When it comes to the article itself, I found it to be very eye opening. Not only in the case of graphic novels, but in novel writing in general. With that being said, I think people become too worried with what/how to label pieces of art. It makes sense that writers might not want their works to be considered a “comic,” but as the author writes, if the term “graphic novel” is to be taken literally, even a well written comic strip (no matter how short) could be considered a graphic novel. I don’t know. It just seems so silly when people put so much energy into labeling things rather than just taking them for what they are.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xK6YhslbkHo

The gymnasium was dim and humid as the breath of children’s panicked whispers filled the room. The gentle tip toe of rain had grown into a march across the tin roof. Jay looked over to him. Even in the dark, Russell could see his brothers wide watery eyes. In a quiet excitement Jay said, “Hey, I bet we made it! Mom probably has dinner waiting for us right now!” Even in this floating prison, his brothers optimism never failed to make him smile.

Russel and the other boys sat silently on the same plastic bleachers they sat on for all school assemblies. He could feel another boy’s leg twitching nervously against his as they sat waiting for the principal to take half court. Suddenly, thunder cracked overhead and not even a whisper could be heard. The metal doors across the court swung open. Mr. Warren’s wet shoes squeaked across the linoleum floor. His usually brown overcoat, black with moisture. The principal approached the awaiting podium and looked out across the sea of two hundred frightened eleven year olds unaware of the situation.

“Gentlemen, your bravery this past week has been eve more than I could ask of men twice your age. As you know, we have been awaiting an open port for resupply. Well, HQ sent us word about new supply shipments coming in from Hawaii and after receiving clearance from Checkpoint Romeo, we set a course for Sydney. Well men, I regret to inform you that I’ve just received some troubling information. The wild fires have destroyed Romeo and the storm stopping HQ from sending any out rescue missions. We’re just going to have to wait out this storm a little longer.

“Food will need to be further rationed. Rations will now be provided every other day at noon. I suggest you make them last, Doc says the storm could last a little longer.” 

We’re never getting off this boat. Russell thought to himself. He glanced over at Jay, his head wilted over. In the dim light, Russell could see as tears splashed between Jay’s feet. 

Jay didn’t come back to his bunk that night. The next morning Russell knew what Mr. Warren would say. He shuffled into the gymnasium to hear the same speech Mr. Warren gives every time a kid gets too hungry and goes fishing. 

Process: When I began writing this narrative, I wanted to try to bring as many similarities as possible between the walrus in the video and the characters in the story. I struggled to find a way people would relate to the effects never ending hunger has on an animal’s psychological state, but also put the characters in the same powerless situation these hungry animals find themselves in. The boys have no way of knowing if/when their lives will return to normal. Similarly, animals are not the cause for their hunger, people are. They have no way of saving themselves. The only way the characters suffering like this can be saved is from the outside (us).

Echoing a few other posts, I was struck by the simplicity of faces in Drnaso’s drawings. Despite the tragedy surrounding most of the characters in the novel, the stick-figure-esque faces painted an aura of detachment throughout the plot. To me, the most emotionally elucidating parts of the book were revealed through writing rather than through images of the characters themselves feeling the emotions. For example, I found the worksheet displaying alcohol intake, sleep levels, as well as feelings of sadness and stress that Calvin filled out upon arriving to work each day an interesting device to reveal his mental state. Even reading the story most explicitly following Calvin’s life, we, as readers, gleaned useful information from this explicit recounting of Calvin’s emotional state. To me, this reinforces how easy it is for people to lose track of each other’s experience and suffering, especially as they live and operate in increasing levels of isolation. This provides some explanation for how strangers on the internet could direct so much cruelty towards Sandra, Calvin, and Teddy. We see cycles of suffering throughout the story; how the characters’ disillusionment drives them to anger and conspiratorial ideas that only further perpetuate suffering of themselves and others. Saddened and angered as she was bombarded by hate mail, Sandra calls Teddy telling him he meant nothing to her family. The depression over Sabrina’s death drives Teddy to consume media that questions the very existence of his dead girlfriend. We see evidence of their suffering through their consumption and actions, not through the depiction of their faces. So much of the display of emotion throughout the story was not face-to-face, and the lack of facial nuance and detail seems to simulate this disinterest in face-to-face interactions even among the story’s readers.

    When I read the first few pages of Sabrina, I did not know what to expect. I have read only three other graphic novels of the non-superhero variety: Fun Home, Persepolis, and Strange Fruit. While the three of these varied greatly in content and style, the two areas in which Sabrina is immediately different are pacing and artistic detail. 

    Beginning with the latter, the artistic style of Nick Drnaso is immediately striking; he uses dull tones, generic faces and bodies, and few background details. This is very effective in accomplishing two tasks: focusing attention on the characters and dialogue, and creating contrast when the artistic style changes, most notably when, in dream sequences, the page becomes black, with people and objects outlined in various bright colors. Because the artwork is so simplistic, it focuses attention on where there are details: for example, a change in the angle of the line that illustrates a character’s mouth is the only change between two panels, drawing attention to that character’s change in emotion between panels.

    The second area of difference is the pacing. Seemingly every page includes blank panels, signifying pauses in conversation. This use of blank panels is absolutely crucial in conveying emotion; where another book might simply use an ellipse in the dialogue in order to convey a pause, a blank panel is significantly more effective in signifying a pause, especially in conversations where Teddy’s trauma is a factor.

I couldn’t help but think of the recent Netflix documentary series that has gone viral. It’s called Don’t F*** With Catsand tells the story of a man, Luka Magnotta, who posted disturbing videos of himself killing cats on the internet. These acts of violence garnered outrage from an internet community who began investigating who Luke Magnotta was, and then when he finally posted a video of himself murdering a human named Jun Lin, the police got involved and began a chase to capture and arrest him. A truly tragic story, but a captivating show.

Why is it that we are so intrigued by these stories of killing? The killer so frequently does so in a quest for fame, for infamy, thinking that somehow, they are special. Luka Magnotta was characterized by expressions of vanity, and so do some of the killers in Nick Drnaso’s depiction. How do we navigate this interesting space, between being so involved that we conduct in depth investigations behind the safety of our computer screens, coming up with grand and elaborate conclusions and conspiracies, real or fake, but rarely even scraping the surface of the people actually involved?

Drnaso focuses the majority of the graphic novel on the process of Calvin Wroebel, childhood friend of Sabrina’s boyfriend, and his grappling with the situation. He seems to be the target of a lot of internet sleuths, although Sabrina’s sister is also attacked, but he seems incapable of recognizing the effect of the situation on himself. His mental health reports can be seen swaying, he seems to acknowledge that he is stressed, and yet he refuses to acknowledge how that personal sphere permeates his public work life. How has he become so strangely detached, like so many other characters of this novel? Everyone seems to detached, even the graphic style with its simplistic drawings and its frame by frame narrative, just seems bland, faded, just peering into a tragic situation and waiting for it to fade away.

“Sssky-ah” is the sharp noise that comes out of his mouth as he jerks away from her under the covers. “Sheesh, your feet are so cold.”

“I know,” she groans, cuddling deeper under the cotton and polyester blended duvet. “It’s just so damn cold out.”

He gets up out of bed. “Come, let’s eat.” He shleps out of the bedroom into the kitchen. She follows, throwing on her favorite comfy sweater, only $15 from H&M. He opens the fridge and stands there staring at the cold blue light. She plops onto the couch and flicks on the TV. The lights were left on, of course.

As primaries approach, polls reflect the top issues for voters this coming election, Among the top three are healthcare, immigration, and the economy, with a recent spike in concerns over national security. Other issues candidates have focused on this race include the wealth gap, education, and climate change.

“Ugh, turn that shit off.” He calls from the fridge, still standing with the door open. “Just stresses me out.”

“Yeah,” she flicks to Comedy Central. Futurama is on. “I’m in the mood for a burger.”

“Mmmm, yeah, with fries.” He concurs. He finally shuts the fridge door and heads over to join her on the couch. “Let’s just order in then.” He opens his laptop. It’s fully charged, but he leaves it plugged in anyways. She shivers and cuddles next to him.

“Gee, I wish this globe would just warm up already.” She jokes. He exhales hard, not a good enough joke for a full laugh, and Googles GrubHub. The dog shuffles out of the bedroom, claws scratching the wood floors. He looks blankly at the cold air in the living room and barks once or twice.

“Shh no barking, what is he even looking at?” They chuckle over their dumb little dog, then welcome him up on the couch for pets. “Hey I want a milkshake, too.”

Process notes:

I was struck by the dissociation that seems to occur in Sabrina a couple of times. I had a hard time picking a meme or picture to construct a narrative around, so I tried to pick the most purposefully bland but hard hitting thing I could think of at the moment. I think this tweet is really funny, because it takes a seemingly banal and thoughtless situation and brings it close to home, climate change is real and urgent and should sound an alarm and yet it doesn’t. I thought I would try to construct a banal narrative. Nothing really happens, it’s just a couple of unnamed people going about 15 minutes of their day. It’s cold, they’re cold, and they’re going about their lives. However, their lives are noticeably  unsustainable. They leave the lights on, they purchase unsustainable clothes, they contribute to unsustainable industries through their purchasing power and eating habits, and perhaps most devastatingly they disassociate from politics and news. Additionally, the climate crisis is subtly depicted as a bad joke, something we evade through humor and subtle but unsubstantial acknowledgement. It is not a priority for people, but somehow maintains its urgency as etched in the subconscious of people as a source of discomfort and bad humor.