Pantheon, September 2011
Craig Thompson’s Habibi is epic in its scope, breadth, and subject matter. Thompson, the author of the award-winning, autobiographical graphic novel, Blankets, spent six years creating Habibi, and it shows. The novel’s physical proportions, at almost 700 pages, are similar to that of his previous book, but that’s where the similarities end.
Habibi is set in an unspecified country somewhere in the Middle East, at an unspecified time. That is, Habibi seems to cut across all time – from ancient to modern, though it is probably more correct to note that the ancient and modern exist concurrently in the story. It is a fairy tale, the story of Dodola, an Arab girl who is married off by her parents at young age to a scribe who teaches her to read and write, imparting to her his love of language before he is summarily dispatched by thieves and she is sold into slavery. In the slave market, Dodola seizes an opportunity to escape, and in so doing rescues an infant black slave boy named Zam.
The two children grow up on a ship stranded in the middle of the desert. Their love for each other is pure. Dodola raises Zam as a mother would raise a child, though as they get older they are like brother and sister, that is until Zam enters puberty and learns that Dodola has been providing for the two of them by prostituting herself to passing caravan men. Zam is horrified at Dodola’s sacrifice, and ashamed of the lust he has begun to feel for his sister.
Craig Thompson’s Habibi is epic in its scope, breadth, and subject matter. Thompson, the author of the award-winning, autobiographical graphic novel, Blankets, spent six years creating Habibi, and it shows. The novel’s physical proportions, at almost 700 pages, are similar to that of his previous book, but that’s where the similarities end.
Habibi is set in an unspecified country somewhere in the Middle East, at an unspecified time. That is, Habibi seems to cut across all time – from ancient to modern, though it is probably more correct to note that the ancient and modern exist concurrently in the story. It is a fairy tale, the story of Dodola, an Arab girl who is married off by her parents at young age to a scribe who teaches her to read and write, imparting to her his love of language before he is summarily dispatched by thieves and she is sold into slavery. In the slave market, Dodola seizes an opportunity to escape, and in so doing rescues an infant black slave boy named Zam.
The two children grow up on a ship stranded in the middle of the desert. Their love for each other is pure. Dodola raises Zam as a mother would raise a child, though as they get older they are like brother and sister, that is until Zam enters puberty and learns that Dodola has been providing for the two of them by prostituting herself to passing caravan men. Zam is horrified at Dodola’s sacrifice, and ashamed of the lust he has begun to feel for his sister.
Habibi’s narrative shifts in time at this point to find Dodola trapped in a harem at the Sultan’s palace. We don’t yet know what became of Zam in the interim, but their separation is parceled out via Dodola’s flashbacks. The two stories diverge as each character faces their own adventures and challenges, and Thompson weaves these two threads together tightly, elegantly, so that the novel, far from linear, becomes a tapestry of story.
“Tapestry” is apropos in describing not only the narrative but Habibi's artwork. Thompson, masterful with brush and pen, fills his story with Middle Eastern ornamentation. What’s more, he works wonders with Arabic script, embedding it into both the art and narrative of Habibi. Arabic letters fill and frame the panels; they are written in the sand by a snake, and they really come to the fore when Habibi’s narrator expounds on their formation, meaning, and etymology.
This epic can be read on many levels. It is certainly the story of two Middle Eastern slaves, but it is also the story of archetypal man and woman. Within Habibi, Thompson explores the nature of sexuality and sexual shame. Dodola faces sexual abuse and lust at every turn throughout the novel, and Zam, a victim of his own lust, castrates himself in shame of his own lustful feelings. Their separation ends when Zam is taken to the palace as a eunuch in the harem. The two reunite, and once again Habibi becomes a story about the saving grace of love.
“Tapestry” is apropos in describing not only the narrative but Habibi's artwork. Thompson, masterful with brush and pen, fills his story with Middle Eastern ornamentation. What’s more, he works wonders with Arabic script, embedding it into both the art and narrative of Habibi. Arabic letters fill and frame the panels; they are written in the sand by a snake, and they really come to the fore when Habibi’s narrator expounds on their formation, meaning, and etymology.
This epic can be read on many levels. It is certainly the story of two Middle Eastern slaves, but it is also the story of archetypal man and woman. Within Habibi, Thompson explores the nature of sexuality and sexual shame. Dodola faces sexual abuse and lust at every turn throughout the novel, and Zam, a victim of his own lust, castrates himself in shame of his own lustful feelings. Their separation ends when Zam is taken to the palace as a eunuch in the harem. The two reunite, and once again Habibi becomes a story about the saving grace of love.
Habibi is a thematically mature book; it is graphically explicit, riddled with nudity, sexuality, and violence. This is not gratuitous - Habibi is a book about sexuality, and Thompson doesn’t shy away from it. It’s no comic book, but a novel whose subject matter presses against the bounds of its 700 page girth. Shot through it are the stories that Dodola tells Zam, stories of the Prophet Mohammed, Noah and his sons King Solomon, and Queen Bilqis of Sheba; there are Miltonic angels; Islamic mysticism, and numerology. The extraordinary richness of Habibi’s story and its artwork guarantee its place as a classic among graphic novels.
Disclosure: A review copy was provided by the publisher. For more information, please see our Ethics Policy.
