A review by elisecoz
Drawing Blood by Molly Crabapple
5.0
I knew this would be a staff pick for me well before page 100. This is one of those books that caught my attention fast and hard. The cover caught my attention as I shelved it. I see hundreds of books everyday, but this one just begged to be read. On the clock, there really isn't time to peruse the shelves, so I didn't even have time to read the flap copy fully. Still, I'm so happy I bought this book. First off, it's a book that reminds you of the fact that books are investments in a sense. They are objects, and they should be beautiful in their own right. Molly Crabapple's status as an artist makes that idea all the more important. The end papers are gorgeous too. You can tell that the designer and Crabapple worked hard on every detail, and I really appreciated it.
Moving on to what's in the book. Molly Crabapple has accomplished something pretty significant and incredibly difficult. She touches on many polarizing subjects throughout Drawing Blood, yet her writing never feels preachy. Could that be because I agree with her on essentially everything she wrote on? Absolutely. Still, I found it impressive how she never felt condescending when she clearly knows so much about topics of which I know little. Rather, her descriptions on the Occupy movement were accessible. Her language was always appropriate for the subject, using higher diction when necessary, but sticking mostly to lower diction and conversational tones.
Additionally, I was impressed with how many topics she touched on. Her art functioned as the connective tissue for all the different parts of her life she drew: the sex trade, 9/11, feminism, Occupy, Guantanamo, traveling, and the recession, among other topics. If you told me all of those elements could live within one book successfully, I would not believe you, but here I am, sitting in my bed, just having read the exact book to accomplish that feat.
On a line by line basis, Crabapple is a gorgeous writer. She flexes different muscles depending on the topic at hand. She can be tragically romantic or precisely journalistic. Through it all, her art makes this memoir stand out as one I'm sure I won't forget. When I read Jonathon Safron Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, I loved the book, but I found myself skimming over the graphics a bit. I know from friend's stories that that was not the case for everyone, but I guess I tend to shy away from illustration and graphics in longer works. But in this one I found myself studying each image, eyes darting around to new, undiscovered details, trying to absorb it. I loved how Crabapple's illustrative style carried through the novel, bringing the different pieces together and always feeling appropriate for the accompanying writing.
So basically, this is one of the freshest, most relevant memoirs of our current time, and one that has so many access points. I came for the art, but I know others who might have more interest in the activism. This is a book that I'm not shy about recommending because I think it manages to make bold statements yet has the power to please a crowd. Add the sex appeal of nude modeling, and there's not much more a reader could want.
A few of my favorite lines:
"After, I lay on the floor with my eyes closed, imagining each moment with Anthony falling over me like a snowflake. Some were as innocent as water. Others were acid. I wondered how they would burn."
"We love the violence in others that we cannot do ourselves. We imagine what it would be like to be that brave."
The entire section from page 169-170. She switches to the second person and it WORKS.
"Humbert's words felt as real for a nightclub as for a girl." (If you love Lolita, you will LOVE the reference in this section.)
Check out the illustration on page 250 if you're in a bookstore because it gives a great idea of her activist artwork.
"Time has to pass. And you have to look into what comes next, after ecstasy, with courage and clear eyes and a taste for infinite hard work."
"It couldn't speak, only gesture. In that moment, I hated the muteness of art."
Please read this book. You will love it, I promise. (That's bold, but I think I'm right.)
Moving on to what's in the book. Molly Crabapple has accomplished something pretty significant and incredibly difficult. She touches on many polarizing subjects throughout Drawing Blood, yet her writing never feels preachy. Could that be because I agree with her on essentially everything she wrote on? Absolutely. Still, I found it impressive how she never felt condescending when she clearly knows so much about topics of which I know little. Rather, her descriptions on the Occupy movement were accessible. Her language was always appropriate for the subject, using higher diction when necessary, but sticking mostly to lower diction and conversational tones.
Additionally, I was impressed with how many topics she touched on. Her art functioned as the connective tissue for all the different parts of her life she drew: the sex trade, 9/11, feminism, Occupy, Guantanamo, traveling, and the recession, among other topics. If you told me all of those elements could live within one book successfully, I would not believe you, but here I am, sitting in my bed, just having read the exact book to accomplish that feat.
On a line by line basis, Crabapple is a gorgeous writer. She flexes different muscles depending on the topic at hand. She can be tragically romantic or precisely journalistic. Through it all, her art makes this memoir stand out as one I'm sure I won't forget. When I read Jonathon Safron Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, I loved the book, but I found myself skimming over the graphics a bit. I know from friend's stories that that was not the case for everyone, but I guess I tend to shy away from illustration and graphics in longer works. But in this one I found myself studying each image, eyes darting around to new, undiscovered details, trying to absorb it. I loved how Crabapple's illustrative style carried through the novel, bringing the different pieces together and always feeling appropriate for the accompanying writing.
So basically, this is one of the freshest, most relevant memoirs of our current time, and one that has so many access points. I came for the art, but I know others who might have more interest in the activism. This is a book that I'm not shy about recommending because I think it manages to make bold statements yet has the power to please a crowd. Add the sex appeal of nude modeling, and there's not much more a reader could want.
A few of my favorite lines:
"After, I lay on the floor with my eyes closed, imagining each moment with Anthony falling over me like a snowflake. Some were as innocent as water. Others were acid. I wondered how they would burn."
"We love the violence in others that we cannot do ourselves. We imagine what it would be like to be that brave."
The entire section from page 169-170. She switches to the second person and it WORKS.
"Humbert's words felt as real for a nightclub as for a girl." (If you love Lolita, you will LOVE the reference in this section.)
Check out the illustration on page 250 if you're in a bookstore because it gives a great idea of her activist artwork.
"Time has to pass. And you have to look into what comes next, after ecstasy, with courage and clear eyes and a taste for infinite hard work."
"It couldn't speak, only gesture. In that moment, I hated the muteness of art."
Please read this book. You will love it, I promise. (That's bold, but I think I'm right.)