Darkroom: A Memoir in Black & White (The University of Alabama Press,
2012) by Lila Quintero Weaver is one of the most moving and visually stunning
graphic texts I’ve seen, on par with American
Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang. In
this memoir, Lila tells the story of her family’s immigration from Argentina to
the tense, roiling South of the 1960’s. She traces her experience, beginning in
girlhood, as a non-white, non-black witness of some of the painful battles of
the Civil Rights movement; as a new American struggling with questions of
American identity and belonging; and as a young woman perceiving deep racism
for the first time.
This is an ambitious
work, and it delivers on its potential. I was moved to tears multiple times as
I read. Through Lila’s pencil drawings, I connected with the history of the
United States and the struggle for racial equality in a new and visceral way.
Undergirding the drama of the setting and period were the interweaving and
conflicting mores of Argentinian and American cultural life. This memoir gave
me the gift of “seeing” a vital piece of our history through another’s eyes,
and I can’t recommend it highly enough.
Lila graciously
agreed to an interview, so I’ll share her answers to some
questions the book raised for me:
1. Can you tell us about the different kinds of work
art and text do to tell a story in a graphic novel and your process in
developing their interplay?
I'm not the first to say it: The graphic-novel format is akin to cinema,
with graphic memoir and other nonfictional treatments functioning somewhat like
documentary film, wherein you get the benefit of voice-over, dialogue and
visuals. Sometimes a silent scene can be quite powerful. It takes discipline to
leave it untouched by words. But sometimes you need narration to segue from one
scene to the next, or to explain a complex situation, enhanced through visuals.
I love this interplay. Working with images increases the layers that one
can offer, such as making visual puns or enriching a scene's background with
details that invite the eye to linger. In Darkroom, my goals were to relate my
family's immigration narrative as vividly as possible and along the way, to
share some views on ethnic identity and racial conflict. It's such a boost to
have illustration at my disposal for these goals. It broadens the palette. I
can include a diagram or a visual analogy. I can employ ink renderings of
family photos to bring faces and family history to life.
Did you start with text and add art or the reverse? Or
did you create both simultaneously?
My first draft was text-only. I needed to shake out ideas as quickly as
possible and get a sense of what material belonged and didn't belong. The next
two drafts included sketches and page layouts. As I got into the final version,
new ideas sometimes emerged as visuals and I added whatever text they required.
Back and forth like that it went through four years of work and the execution
of 500+ illustrations. Whew.
2. Considering the powerful and emotional content in your
book, did you experience any particular challenges or doubts during the
creative process?
Yes! Unless you're a celebrity, you begin by wondering why the heck anyone
would want to read your memoir. You're inundated with doubts about finding
universal themes in your ordinary life, and once you find those themes, you're
anguished about stripping away the veneer of privacy that you've always counted
on for self-protection. But a memoir without emotional exposure is cold and
uninviting. You have to make peace with that essential nature and do the
courageous thing. Otherwise, what a lost opportunity to touch the reader!
3. Your book feels to me like one of those marvelous
crossover works that is equally appealing to teens and adults. Do you have an
"ideal reader" or even "ideal audience" for your book?
Thank you! Crossover is a great word for how the book has been
received. During the process I tried not to write for a particular
demographic sector. I simply concentrated on telling the story in my voice, including
the visual aspects that make up my communication style. After the book came
out, I was surprised and thrilled when librarians and high school educators
latched on to it as a YA fit. It's also found its way into college classrooms,
which is another fantastic outcome I didn't foresee. And some of my readers
come from the older generation, I’m delighted to say. Most of them have never
picked up a graphic novel, but they're drawn to personal accounts of Jim Crow
and desegregation, a historical era they experienced directly or read about as
it developed. A few of these older readers have hopped on board with graphic
novels and that couldn’t make me happier.