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When I wrote my previous picture books, I started by making sure I had a clear layout of how the story would begin and end, then I got to work on illustrating the page that I was most excited about drawing. However, this was definitely not the case with The Prince Who Hated Green Caterpillars. Even though I’d already mapped out the plot, I wasn’t sure about the characters’ inner thoughts or how the story would end, so I couldn’t skip around when working on the illustrations and I had to work through the book in order, starting with the first page and finishing with the last. That continuity made it easier to get into the world of the story, but I was still hesitant about sketching the characters’ expressions right up until I drew the final line.

Not having a fixed plan was a new creative approach for me. From the moment I first came up with the story, I didn’t try to find a clear-cut resolution to it, instead I tried to create a defined space where contradictions such as virtue and vice, kindness and ignorance, love and hate, salvation and persecution etc. could all coexist. Rather than keeping these opposing elements at a safe distance from each other in the story, they were all combined into one person. I was curious about whether it was possible that the good and evil could exist at the same time rather than hiding from each other like day and night, and what might happen if they collided together. I wanted to design a moment after which everything would change, and that was the original intention behind this picture book.

What happens after these collisions? When we grow up, we realize there are a lot of questions in life that don’t have answers. Can we understand each other even if our circumstances are different? Can we repair the damage we’ve caused? If this story needs a specific resolution, I hope that it’s one of love, that it’s a cheesy fairy-tale about how “from now on, we’ll all live happily ever after.” So, by the end of the story, in the prince’s mind the best kingdom isn’t the one without the color green, it’s the kingdom that he promised to the girl.  

The Little Paper Boats That Went to See the Sea was written by the prolific children’s book author Lin Liang when he was over fifty years old and features a simple, lyrical writing style. The story describes how a small red paper boat flows from a small brook in the mountains into a larger stream then into big river where it meets a little white paper boat in the city and the two of them go to look at the sea together. They see lots of skyscrapers along the way and finally drift towards the edge of a dock where they see a big ship and go out to sea with it. Both of them are so happy and realize that something has changed: now they are two small paper boats that have seen the sea.

Cheng Ming-Chin was forty-three years old when he illustrated The Little Paper Boats That Went to See the Sea. He had taught art at primary schools for a long time and had looked carefully at the recurring traits in children’s drawings over the years. He included some of the traits in his own illustrations, especially those from the “pictorial stage” which children typically experience between the ages of four and eight. At that age, children often draw things from memory rather than sketching the relative shapes and sizes of objects in front of them.

In the book, Cheng uses exaggerated proportions when depicting the little paper boats as a way of emphasizing the contrast between the main characters and the scenery around them. For example, the little white and red boat on the water appear disproportionately large relative to the scenery around them in an attempt to show that although the boats are small, they have an important role to play in the story.

Lin described Cheng’s illustrations as a combination of two engaging components: overview and close-reading. “The overview lets you enjoy the picture as a whole, while the close-reading is about appreciating the many individual things that make up the image. Illustrations that feature this combination of overview and close-reading tend to be more figurative which makes it easier for children to relate to them,” said Lin. Cheng also employs techniques such as stone rubbing, tracing and blotting, as well as cutting and pasting, to enrich the details of his illustrations. Alongside the “pictorial stage” design elements, The Little Paper Boats That Went to See the Sea has other traits found in children’s drawings, including simple shapes and clumsily-drawn lines etc. which naturally bring a distinctive vitality to the scenes.

The Little Paper Boats That Went to See the Sea was first published in 1975 as part of the “New Generation of Childhood Discovery” series which also featured another collaboration between Lin and Cheng: Small Animal Nursery Rhymes. These two books have been read for nearly half a century and have been reprinted many times. Thanks to improvements in printing and bookbinding techniques, the illustrations have continued to become more detailed over the years and evoke a timelessness that has meant they still remain popular with young readers. This is because the book’s two creators, one of whom wrote for young readers using the art of plain language while the other embraced elements of children’s artwork in his illustrations, were both adults who knew how important it was to squat down and speak to children on their own level.

Author-Illustrator Liu Chen-Kuo in His Own Words

My workplace is sometimes like an illustration lab. I like to experiment with different artistic disciplines such as sculpture, papercutting, contemporary ink painting, abstract drawing etc., and combine them with my original ideas about shape and color, then contemplate how I can use it all to produce new and interesting illustrations.

Years ago, I bought a guide to cross stitch patterns and it felt very warm and tactile which firmly planted the idea in my mind that I would use it in an illustration someday. Then, as I was creating a picture book for young children which eventually became Who Wants to Play Hide and Seek?, I had this instinct that I should experiment with cross stich, so I started by drawing it on paper before trying it out on a computer, and then I ended up buying a cross stich kit so I could actually make it for real.

When I finally had a few illustrations that had taken shape a few months later, I turned to my wife who was hard at work mopping the floor and asked, “Does the way I used cross stich make the images feel warm and tactile?” She glanced at it, then her eyes widened and she said, “Yes, I think it does!”

So, every day I started to patiently create the embroidery on my computer by using my mouse to thread each stitch. I often needed to wear farsighted glasses for this process so that I could alter the size of the squares. I thought about how to incorporate the rules of cross stitch and did a lot of calculations, asking myself questions like: how many squares would each of the octopus’s eight legs take up? And how many squares there would need to be between them? Now that the book is out, I really hope you all enjoy the end result!

A Recommendation from Children’s Literature Critic Sarah C. Ko

Veteran picture book creator Liu Chen-Kuo’s new book Who Wants to Play Hide and Seek? masterfully demonstrates how to turn complexity into simplicity and has that all-important trait of a great children’s picture book: it’s simple without being monotonous, and clear without being superficial.

With smart humor and an elegant aesthetic, this little book takes babies and toddlers through a fun game of conceptual imagery: numbers, time, space, colors, shapes, similarities, differences, and so on. The texture of cross stich is like a soft fabric which suits the sensory imagination of toddlers and creates a cozy atmosphere that can be enjoyed by adults and children alike. This is a book you can really play with, in the same spirit as the works of Eric Carle and Gomi Tarō, all the way through to its satisfying, and surprising, conclusion. 

In everyday life, there are all types of holes – big ones, little ones, round ones, and long ones. Pay close attention as you join this boy to observe what each hole reveals! – cover introduction

Along with this picture book’s curious title, What’s This Hole?, the keyhole and question mark illustrated on its cover suggest exploration and discovery. Smiling through the portal, the young protagonist probes and inspects his surroundings at every turn, sharing his close-up perspectives with the reader. Together, we witness ants ferrying biscuits to their colony, mice chewing on cheese, bats dangling upside-down in a cave, rain sloshing through a street grate, Mama feeding a piggy bank, and steam puffing from a kettle on full boil.

These otherwise random, prosaic moments are nonetheless remarkable for the child, and his enthusiasm is captured through Baba’s camera lens, which happens to be another “hole” identified in the story. The penultimate spread shows accumulated snapshots that are records of the child’s encounters, and the exuberant joy is evident as he revisits these memories and recounts the details, asking aloud what might have been in a particular hole. In this light, it becomes apparent that each of the prior spreads is a story unto itself, adding a new dimension to the reading experience.

The colorful and endearing illustrations are reminiscent of childhood drawings that center each young creator’s unique point of view, which is key in this picture book. While this work is literally about holes, its underlying theme deals with apertures and the ways in which individual focal points – factual or fantastical – shape narratives in storytelling. Readers might wonder, for instance: Who left out the cheese? Where did the mice come from? Did this really happen? Such playful questions may encourage conversations about what is possible and promote novel ways to engage with one’s environment.

Designed as a read-aloud and for emerging readers, this picture book’s text is simple and the recurring prompt: “Hey, what’s this hole?” is an invitation not only to examine the opening in question, but also to imagine to what or where it may lead. The intriguing final spread advances this spirit of inquiry and adventure by depicting numerous round holes and showing the child inside one of them, destination and surroundings unknown.

(This article is originally published at Readmoo)

According to the definition in researcher Mizoguchi Akiko’s book On the Evolution of BL, the boy’s love genre (BL) is made up of “all kinds of stories that develop from the love relationships between two men, yet the creators and readers are mostly heterosexual women”. She further states that the love affairs between men found in the plots of BL stories provide readers a temporary escape from the shackles of reality by creating an artificial world where love and sex can be pursued freely. By representing a utopia where gender diversity is respected to a greater degree than in our present world, BL works become more than entertainment – they present a subtle challenge to contemporary society, or even a push towards reform. 

With their massive market and loyal fan base, BL comic books are a consistent mainstay of comic book publishing. With minimal exaggeration it could said that BL comic books are a touchstone of the health of the entire comics industry. When BL sales are strong, the industry has a stable core, and can weather any storm or challenge. However, to those who have never read the genre, particularly male readers, the appeal of BL can be difficult to comprehend. One has to spend some time getting acquainted with the genre to understand its irresistible charms. Among the best introductions to the genre is Day Off, the new comic from artist Dailygreens and publisher Rusuban Studio, and winner of the 2022 Golden Comic Award’s Best Editor category.

Set against the backdrop of office life at a large enterprise, the story follows the evolving relationship between the head of the planning department and his attractive subordinate. Their devoted exchanges of affection emanate a healing warmth and sincerity, but their relationship is far from perfect. As with all couples, there are episodes of jealousy and self-doubt, as well as the difficulties of keeping their relationship secret from coworkers, and, of course, the discomfiting gaze cast upon them by society. But through all of these setbacks, their relationship grows stronger. The strength of their bond, and the support of some family members, give them the energy to face the challenges, and fills them with hope for the future.

Day Off began as a web comic strip consisting of quickly-resolved independent episodes (which now constitute the first three chapters of the comic book). The elegantly composed swathes of color and distinctively warm palette of these short narratives set a tastefully breezy and comforting tone that kept readers coming back for more. It also attracted the attention of Huang Szu-Mi, BL author and Editor-in-Chief of Rusuban Studio, an established publisher of BL fiction and comics. At Huang’s suggestion, Dailygreens began working with Rusuban to adapt Day Off into a full-length comic book.

The change in format, however, doesn’t diminish the appeal of Day Off. If anything, the book-length format further develops the potential of the original characters and setting, and gives Dailygreens a larger canvas on which to showcase her talent for visual storytelling. The interactions of the main characters unfold in an unhurried manner, revealing the full emotional spectrum of their relationship, and the strength and comfort each finds in the other. Those who’ve experienced love will find themselves reliving their own past loves, or possibly wishing that they could. The workplace setting adds an element of interest, and, for many readers, wish fulfillment. Through its tight arrangement of narrative elements, Day Off envisions the unattainable ideal of pure love in the real world, all within the framework of BL comic books. This is what makes it such an excellent introduction to the genre. Lacking in steamy artwork, the book may come across as somewhat chaste to hardcore fans of the genre. But for general readers, Day Off’s refreshingly unsensational approach will evoke the sweetness of past relationships, and reaffirm their faith in the possibility of love.

Huang Szu-Mi once said in an interview that the process of creating a comic book is like assembling a team of heroes to defeat an evil tyrant; the editor plays the supporting role of the wizard while the comic book artist is the courageous warrior, always fighting at the front lines. Indeed, Dailygreens has shown great courage and strength. In this dark era where all traces of pure love seem to be gradually fading away, she has sought out the light on behalf of all those who still believe in love. In a separate interview, Dailygreens stated, “That’s just how I am. I hope that there still people in this world with the gentleness of Hsiao-Fei, or bosses who are as kind as (his lover) the department head.”

Don’t we all.

(This article is originally published at Readmoo)

At the end of August, I went to my weight training class as usual. My coach has three children, and his eldest daughter was starting grade three in two days. Being the mischievous auntie I am, I couldn’t help but tease his adorable kids; as they bounded into the room, I turned to the eldest and taunted, “well, have you finished your summer homework yet?” To my surprise, she threw me a look and responded coldly, “I finished it ages ago.”

What?! Wasn’t today the last day of summer? A time when the whole family should be scrambling, while mom and dad help the kids complete their assignments? I recall loathing summer homework as a kid, especially the daily journal. Who could remember what the weather was like for the past 59 days? The worst part was sitting at my desk, reliving the summer in my head; after all, what did I do that was possibly worth writing about in my journal?

The protagonist of Open Eyes, Open Mind! is not like me at all. When her new art teacher assigns the students to “get to know someone”, she is somewhat bemused, but is named “Angel” after all, so begins to work on this task right away. She comes home and asks for help from her mother, who is a senior strategist at work and has written countless business proposals. Her advice? “Make it up.”

Because her mom won’t come to the rescue, Angel turns (virtually) to her dad, who often works abroad. Over video, her dad is pleased to help, and offers his advice: “It’s best to find someone who’s interesting and has a strong sense of style. That would make your assignment easier! Your dad, for example, is a perfect choice. What do you think? Wanna get to know your dad?”

At this point, Angel begins to feel frustrated; what does it mean to “get to know someone”? Meeting their parents? Knowing their interests? A student who wears glasses raises their hand and asks: “Can you get to know someone you already know?” It is through this question that author Pam Pam Liu reveals the purpose of the art teacher’s assignment: “Everyone has many different sides. Through this experience you’ll get to know someone you already knew even better, and you might even learn something new!”

Pam Pam’s graphic novel is based on the sociological text Struggling to Raise Children: Globalization, Parental Anxiety and Unequal Childhoods by Distinguished Professor Lan Pei-Chia of Department of Sociology at National Taiwan University. Professor Lan visited nearly 60 households to conduct field interviews and observed different teaching environments to analyze the differences between the middle class and the working class, ultimately drawing certain conclusions about Taiwan’s educational models. The result was an important field report on the state of education in contemporary Taiwan.

But perhaps Open Eyes, Open Mind! is not so much an adaptation, but a continuation of Professor Lan’s work. Breaking away from the structure of a sociological text, Pam Pam has decided to adopt a different perspective in her graphic novel, that of a child. Through the “get to know someone” homework assignment, our protagonist explores the lives of relatives and friends, revealing the different family structures and parenting styles around her.

It’s no easy feat to tell a story through the eyes of a child; how do kids communicate? How do they interact? Why does an annoying classmate suddenly become less annoying once you get to know their backstory? Pam Pam even draws from her personal experience of being invited to a friend’s house as a kid, and being asked to take out the trash.… In a setting that is at once grounded in reality, yet absurd, Angel gets to know her classmates, relatives, and mother in a new light, armed with her art class textbook.

Open Eyes, Open Mind! is Pam Pam’s fifth commercially-published work. From My Friend, Cancer to A Trip to the Asylum to Super Supermarket, behind the cute, round characters Pam Pam creates is always sharp social commentary. In My Friend, Cancer, she uses the experience of taking care of her mom who has cancer to explore the conflicted disposition that comes with being an eldest daughter. A Trip to the Asylum is set in a mental hospital, but asks us to think about who in the “real world” may be mad.  

Reading Pam Pam’s graphic novels often makes me think of the lyrics of “Deserts Chang”: “the deepest words must be said plainly”, “painful wounds must be touched gently”. Pam Pam interrogates Taiwan’s class dynamics, and the educational and familial structures of urban and rural areas, through the lens of a primary student’s homework assignment. What choices can parents make given their different social standings and the class gap between urban and rural areas? And how will their children interact with the world?

I particularly like how the story ends:

NOTE: Be warned: if you don’t want any spoilers, I suggest you leave this page, put this book in your shopping cart, check out, and finish reading the graphic novel in your own time.

We tag alongside Angel on her journey of getting to know someone, including her close friends, unfamiliar classmates, her cousin who lives in the countryside, and seemingly enviable classmates from other families. But in the end, Angel decides to get to know her own mother. This is an exceptional twist, and Pam Pam handles it deftly. Angel gets to really know her mother, and the dreams she had before she became a mother. Why does she sign Angel up for so many tutoring classes, packing her day-to-day life with activities?

Pam Pam has ingeniously turned the case studies of a sociological report into a 190-page graphic novel that looks beautiful, has a clear theme, and is well-paced. She captures the same ideas explored in Struggling to Raise Children without losing the allure of a graphic novel; perhaps this is her version of a “reader’s report”. I recommend readers peruse Struggling to Raise Children and Open Eyes, Open Mind! together, which is bound to result in a compelling, intriguing reading experience.

(This article is originally published at Readmoo)

Comics as “the ninth art” in Francophone culture is a discourse repopularized by BD Louvre, a 2003 exhibition of comics at the Louvre Museum in Paris. The concept was subsequently introduced to Taiwan by Dala Publishing Company and became prevalent in discussions about Taiwan comics. The “ninth art” status is mostly mentioned to elevate Taiwan comics, which has long been awarded little respect, as epitomized by the controversy of The Legacy of Chen Uen: Art, Life and Philosophy exhibition in 2018. All ostensible reasoning aside, the challenge of whether Chen Uen’s work deserves to be exhibited beside the “national treasures” of the National Palace Museum is a poor veil for the prejudice that disregards comics as great works of art.

Still, to use this saying as a sort of polite comeback diminishes its full implications. To define comics as an art form is to admit it to the “palace of art” where they can be collected, displayed, and appreciated. More importantly, it liberates the creative freedom that comics can offer to its artists. Like other art disciplines, comics is a form that comes with infinite possibility and does not need to be limited by the genre tropes or the graphic and language conventions of commercial comics. Artists should be given creative license to explore and discover, and rather than gratify the reader, they should center their artistry and confront the reader’s expectations on an intellectual and emotional level – like graphic novels, which have become prominent in Taiwan these several years. While there are different definitions as to what a graphic novel is, the general consensus is that it is not strictly commercial and is a form that expands visual storytelling. For this reason, graphic novels are also seen as an avenue for Taiwan comics, once deeply influenced by Japanese manga, to assert itself.

Sleeping Brain, published by Tōkhiu Books, is one of the most compelling new Taiwan comic and graphic novel titles that exhibits the qualities of “art”. Tōkhiu Books was founded by renowned Taiwan comic critic Wu Ping-Lu, who studied comic art and publishing in France and Belgium and is also an advocate for graphic novels in Taiwan. The release of Sleeping Brain was one she spared no expenses for. The design of the book, the selection of paper and printing – they were all of the highest quality. The book is like a fine art catalog, exquisite to touch and showing complete disregard to market practice or people’s expectations of how comics are to be published.

Sleeping Brain is also unique for its story and storytelling. Gong Wei-Hua, a second-generation immigrant entomologist from China, and Aramura Kiichi, a freelance Japanese photographer, venture into Taiwan’s woodlands in search of butterflies. They meet in a chance encounter deep in the mountains of Yilan. Kung wants to catch butterflies and turn them into specimens for his collection, while Aramura wants to take photos of the butterflies with his camera. Both characters have the rare Papilio maraho butterfly as their ultimate goal, despite their different motivations. They come across a mysterious girl who cannot speak but keeps a large collection of endangered butterflies among trees. In this dreamlike wilderness, the trio encounter phantoms from their past in the scintillating light and darkness of the present. Their entanglement in a series of pursuits and complications arising from the butterflies becomes what is ultimately an allegory of the White Terror in Taiwan.

KUCHiXO uses a highly imagistic approach for this book, which is rife with symbols and signs. The story is drawn in color pencil with a childlike sketching style to resemble illustrations for fairytale books. Changes in the color tone convey alterations in time and space, while colorful silhouettes depict the flight of the mysterious butterflies. It may seem like Sleeping Brain was made with a sense of freehand nonchalance, but every aspect of the book is meticulously designed, from its colors and illustrations to its storyboard and shading, and all of these aspects deserve attention and study. With how the story progresses, Sleeping Brains may read like a fantastical fairytale of an incredible journey in search of butterflies, but it is in fact an unflinching contemplation on Taiwan’s history. The characters and the butterflies are symbols of us living on this island with our complicated past, our embroiled present, and our unpredictable future.

Sleeping Brain may not be the easiest read with layers of symbolism that call for associative thought and interpretation. However, the book’s refusal to offer that unthinking “thrill” of commercial comics is what gives readers room to feel the story emotionally and reflect on it from an analytical point of view. These qualities are what make Sleeping Brain so impressive as it demonstrates what comics can achieve as works of art.

(This article is originally published at Readmoo)

Tender Is the Night is a collaboration between comic artist Huihui and playwright Chien Li-Ying. The text version of this work, which was originally a submission to a call for scripts, also appears in Observations of a Transvestite, a collection of Chien Li-Ying’s plays. In the epilogue to that work, Chien wrote, “Sexuality is the greatest window into an individual’s behavior, the subtleties of interaction, the unfathomable depths, the shame, joy, and quotidian life all find abundant expression within sexuality. This subject has always fascinated me, and I’ve always wanted to write a play that could bring life to various forms of human sexuality, which is why I’ve included the work in this collection.”

I have always admired Chien Li-Ying’s plays and still remember the profound impact Observations of a Transvestite, had on me the first time I saw it. Later on, after reading Tender Is the Night, I remember thinking how wonderful it would be to see the play staged. Of course, in reality this would be impossible. Why? Because the play depicts nine sexual encounters playing out in nine different rooms. At least for now, a racy performance including nudity and sexual acts would probably not be allowed on Taiwan stages.

Then the graphic novel version of Tender Is the Night was published.

Huihui’s previous graphic novel series Blowing-Up Adventure of Me had a dedicated readership in the independent comic market. The novel follows the protagonist as she honestly confronts her own sexual timidity – in Huihui’s pictorial world, the desire and longing for intimate encounters find both gentle and ardent embodiment. With Tender Is the Night, Huihui brings Chien Li-Ying’s script to life, providing a visual representation not just of the script’s many stage changes, but also the deeper desires, and subtle expressions of alienation underlying the physical act of sex.  

This is how the novel’s publisher, Faces Publishing describes the book: “A romantically ostracized printshop worker, a lesbian’s clandestine encounter with her wife’s paramour, a woman’s feeling of emptiness with her hearing-impaired boyfriend, a gay little person practices fellatio, an impasse between a self-abasing portly woman and her chapstick-seeking male bedfellow, and elderly illicit lovers acting as each other’s emotional anchors…with its depictions of nine physical and sexual relationships rejected by the mainstream market and its appetite for conventional stories of love and marriage, Tender Is the Night has laid the first brushstrokes of a contemporary Taiwanese ukiyo-e, an exploration of the unlimited possibilities and stringencies of gender and sexual identity.”

The nine short graphic novels that unfold in the nine different rooms of Tender Is the Night might all find a common thread in the book’s catchline: “Can you treat me like you would a normal person?” What seem like the stories of strangers are ultimately our own: even if the sexual experiences and body types of the characters differ from the reader’s, there is no sense of “other” in these 9 stories, they are narratives in which we can all find common ground. After all, who hasn’t felt the solitude, loneliness, self-abasement, masochism and longing for bodily warmth and connection experienced by the comics’ characters?

Huihui renders act upon act of sexual romance with a gentle touch, deftly attending to the minute details of every scene and carving out the fine grains of each character’s semblance and personality. Their acts of mutual longing and rejection form an exquisite engenderment of the human interactions as well as the relationships between people and sexuality captured in the original script. With scenes of lovemaking and nudity appearing every few pages, Tender Is the Night is clearly an x-rated graphic novel, but Huihui isn’t so much interested in arousing readers’ sexual desires and bodily urges as she is in stirring those deeper and more profound levels of the psyche – whether you’re a hot-blooded lover or a cold and distant recluse, as long as you’re human, chances are that deep inside you, too, wish to be loved.

What makes Tender Is the Night so enthralling is its authenticity: the sexual acts themselves and the humanity that unfolds around them all evince a sense of honesty and sincerity. There is an austere and unvarnished quality to Huihui’s storytelling, so much so that it almost seems to derive from the perspective of an indifferent bystander. Three of the nine stories involve encounters between a couple and a third person – yet, the outsiders’ perspectives often highlight the simultaneous complexity and purity of the couples’ love. In “Chapstick”, Huihui has her slightly homely female protagonist ask a man who is trying to flee from her: “Is there something wrong with me?” This blunt outburst is no doubt a symptom of her continual frustration with the judging eyes of her peers.

In the postscript, Huihui asks her readers to reflect on which of the chapters had the deepest impact on them.

For me, it was “The Turning of the Seasons”.

In this tale of an elderly love affair, Huihui uses an identical framing for the male and female protagonist in each slide; only the background changes to reflect their peripatetic journey through a shifting series of hotel rooms. The rooms feature the standard trappings of most cheap hotels – the sprawling double bed with bedside tables on either side and the obligatory framed prints of famous western paintings. As time passes and conversations and scenery shift, so to do the selection of paintings on display. In the very last room, the painting hanging on the wall is Gustav Klimt’s famed “The Kiss”.

“The Turning of the Seasons” is short in length and, tucked as it is in the very center of the book, serves as an ellipsis that aptly separates the chapters that come before and after it. Yet, this fleeting vignette focuses on a much more profound kind of relationship. In the love and companionship of the elderly, each is witness to the most unsightly aspects of their partner, to the atrophy and wasting of their physical bodies. As such, they cling not to each other’s corporeal flesh but to the heart and soul nestled within. As they conclude their lover’s hotel rendezvous and return to their families, we see that it is these brief escapes which give them the courage to once again face reality.

(This article is originally published at Readmoo)

Comics may be sequences of still images, but this has not stopped artists from using the form to make titles about music, for which there is already a considerable list – like the widely popular Japanese manga Nodame Cantabile on classical music; NANA, about a rock band; and BLUE GIANT, whose protagonist is a jazz musician. Taiwan has also been releasing comics about music in recent years, including DEMO and BLA BLA SONG. Among them, Island Rhapsody has to be one of the most intricately conceived titles. Different from the works mentioned, it is a two-volume collection of short comics by ten artists, each working with a different style. The short pieces do not have multiple growth arcs for its main characters or complicated plot twists, nor do they divulge knowledge about music and its instruments. They are inspired by songs, but rather than being mere visual adaptations, they get to the heart of the tracks, reaching through the cracks of time and space to explore different narratives.

Island Rhapsody is configured after the travel program Listen! Taiwan Is Singing hosted by popular musician Chen Ming-Chang, who likes to travel and sing. In the show, Chen went around Taiwan to experience its regional cultures, and together with his friends, he would play his signature yueqin or guitar while they sang famous tunes from the places they visited. Ten of those songs were later selected for this collection. Each short comic comes with a QR code that links to the actual track, as well as printed lyrics and an introductory text and commentary by music critic Hung Fang-Yi.

Appreciators of the collection may worry about its specificity to Taiwan, that despite all these materials providing context, other readers may still find this to be a barrier. Or, alternatively, that readers may not be able to accept this sort of “adaptation” or “translation” because of their musical taste. But even if one skips all the commentary and goes straight to the comics, one can still get pleasure out of it.

The first volume starts with “If I Open My Heart’s Door” by Sen, told through the eyes of a female protagonist as she revisits the streets and her old home in her hometown. Like a metaphorical door to the heart, the story draws readers into its imaginary world. In a somewhat similar vein, the second volume finishes with GGDOG’s “Salt Ponds – The Home of the Black-faced Spoonbills”, which has the protagonist waking up in the summer heat of his room at the end. Although the “salt zone” of his dreams is reduced to a small, mundane complaint of daily life, there is a sense of lingering aftertaste savored by both the protagonist and the readers. Inexplicably, as if in a reverie, the beginning and the end of the collection connect despite showing vastly different artistic portrayals.

Four of the ten comics are influenced by science fiction, while the other six take place in real life. As the stories intermingle, reality and fantasy become indistinguishable. If one were to insist upon a central theme, each story features a main character exploring their sense of belonging, whether permanent or temporary, to the places they reside as well as their careers and lives, which leads them to action or contemplation.

Each of the stories exhibits the unique visual languages of their artists. Ding Pao-Yen uses short, urgent strokes and gray tones to portray a desolate city besieged by rain, while Tseng Yao-Ching adapts the regional festivity of the song “Miss So-Lan Wants to Get Married” into a modern-day vignette on the subtleties of human relationships. ROCKAT sets his story in the year 2040, when the traditional Lukang becomes a famous tourist spot under a Chinese Federation. Zuo Hsuan’s story of a young foley artist trying to find meaning in his career is heartwarming and inspiring, while Lo Ning depicts scenes from the countryside and opera performances in the rain to express the nostalgia of visiting one’s hometown. Cao Chian visualizes the physical and psychological struggles suffered by Beitou hostesses with thick, dark lines, while Peter Mann’s comic about the strife of women pursuing success is told as a lighthearted tale of parents and children working together. Mu Ke Ke narrates the meeting and separation of childhood friends, showing how loneliness comes to all regardless of age.

In an interview, Alan Lee, editor-in-chief of the comics department of Gaea Books, said, “It would be too boring if these comics were complete adaptations of the lyrics, readers can just listen to the songs. The artists should also get to show their creativity, they’re not here to only illustrate the lyrics.” With this direction, the artists commissioned for this project only had to consider the number of spreads they were given and were otherwise given the freedom to work on their comics. Judging from their striking contributions, this approach has allowed them to come up with different narratives as well as ways to enliven the reading and listening experience – appreciators of the collection may come across pleasant surprises as they go through the songs and the comics.