The Abyss of Oblivion
By Paco Roca and Rodrigo Terrasa
Translated from the Spanish by Andrea Rosenberg
Published by Fantagraphics
Mom's Review
The Abyss of Oblivion is the moving story of the last Spanish woman to receive governmental grant money to exhume her father, a victim of Franco's dictatorship who was buried in a mass grave after being murdered for his political beliefs. I finished reading this a few days ago, wanting to sit with it before writing my review. I had read it in one sitting in the evening and cried hard as I approached the conclusion and then read completely through the back matter.
The story itself is fascinating and eye-opening for readers who only have a superficial understanding of the Spanish Civil War. We see history from three perspectives: Pepica, the woman who is seeking her father's remains today: Jose, unjustly imprisoned and murdered; and Leoncia, the interrer who buries the regime's victims and helps their families. I think what is so moving about this history (for it is non-fiction) is how it is presented. The illustrations are in some way more powerful than photographs. Roca has selected what he wants to emphasize and draw the viewer's attention to. I am not being distracted by any extra stuff a photographer can't avoid capturing in a wartime photograph. On the other hand, the illustrations provide something of a buffer. They aren't real in the way the photograph is, so reading about horrifying events is softened somewhat. This is only one part of why Roca's and Terrasa's work is so affecting. The focus on a single history makes the work personal. We follow one woman's efforts to find and exhume her father and bury him next to her mother, accompanied by the story of her father's incarceration as well as the interrer's subversive efforts to identify the murdered men and allow their families to tend to the bodies before burial. I felt like I personally knew each of the three individuals by the time I was done reading; I greived alongside Leoncia as he worked a job that broke his heart, I rejoiced with Pepica as she was successful in her endeavor, and I felt Jose's relief when his tortuous ordeal was finally over. Roca and Terrasa created one of the most moving books I've read. I read Palestine in the days before Abyss of Oblivion, and Joe Sacco wrote what I think is the most difficult book I've ever read (review coming soon). Abyss of Oblivion and Palestine are equally powerful, but I found Oblivion more emotionally moving because of the focus on an individual woman.
There is one detail of Rocca's art that I want to point out. I particularly loved how he drew the victims as the archaeologists worked. Each man was shown with all his dignity restored, walking from the cemetery to his surviving family, where he sat beside them when they received news of the archaeologists' success. The effect was beautiful, uplifting, and heartbreaking all at once.
By Paco Roca and Rodrigo Terrasa
Translated from the Spanish by Andrea Rosenberg
Published by Fantagraphics
Mom's Review
The Abyss of Oblivion is the moving story of the last Spanish woman to receive governmental grant money to exhume her father, a victim of Franco's dictatorship who was buried in a mass grave after being murdered for his political beliefs. I finished reading this a few days ago, wanting to sit with it before writing my review. I had read it in one sitting in the evening and cried hard as I approached the conclusion and then read completely through the back matter.
The story itself is fascinating and eye-opening for readers who only have a superficial understanding of the Spanish Civil War. We see history from three perspectives: Pepica, the woman who is seeking her father's remains today: Jose, unjustly imprisoned and murdered; and Leoncia, the interrer who buries the regime's victims and helps their families. I think what is so moving about this history (for it is non-fiction) is how it is presented. The illustrations are in some way more powerful than photographs. Roca has selected what he wants to emphasize and draw the viewer's attention to. I am not being distracted by any extra stuff a photographer can't avoid capturing in a wartime photograph. On the other hand, the illustrations provide something of a buffer. They aren't real in the way the photograph is, so reading about horrifying events is softened somewhat. This is only one part of why Roca's and Terrasa's work is so affecting. The focus on a single history makes the work personal. We follow one woman's efforts to find and exhume her father and bury him next to her mother, accompanied by the story of her father's incarceration as well as the interrer's subversive efforts to identify the murdered men and allow their families to tend to the bodies before burial. I felt like I personally knew each of the three individuals by the time I was done reading; I greived alongside Leoncia as he worked a job that broke his heart, I rejoiced with Pepica as she was successful in her endeavor, and I felt Jose's relief when his tortuous ordeal was finally over. Roca and Terrasa created one of the most moving books I've read. I read Palestine in the days before Abyss of Oblivion, and Joe Sacco wrote what I think is the most difficult book I've ever read (review coming soon). Abyss of Oblivion and Palestine are equally powerful, but I found Oblivion more emotionally moving because of the focus on an individual woman.
There is one detail of Rocca's art that I want to point out. I particularly loved how he drew the victims as the archaeologists worked. Each man was shown with all his dignity restored, walking from the cemetery to his surviving family, where he sat beside them when they received news of the archaeologists' success. The effect was beautiful, uplifting, and heartbreaking all at once.
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