ARC Read: It Rhymes With Takei

I was happy to get my hands on 'It Rhymes With Takei', George Takei's second graphic novel memoir after 'They Called Us Enemy', his excellent first graphic novel where he recounts his memories of the American concentration camps during World War II, which he had experienced first hand as a 4-year-old boy. This time around, the famous actor and passionate activist focuses on the more personal story of his identity as a gay man, his late coming out at the age of 68, back in October of 2005, and all the decades and experiences that formed his views of the world, fuelled his passion for social justice, and shaped him as a person.

The book is a heartfelt and vulnerable recounting of his most formative experiences as a young boy who grew up feeling different, not fitting in, but who also lived in a world that made it very clear that his difference wasn't going to be tolerated. From the several prejudices of the times, to the bullying and the prevalent homophobic slang, to later seeing people's careers being ruined after the revelation that they were gay, it is not hard to understand why a young Asian-American man would be fully convinced that the best thing to do is to live his life hiding who he truly is.

The way George Takei explains his everyday experiences paints a very clear picture of the American society of the 1950s and on. His thorough way of describing things makes you understand both the man and his way of thinking specifically, as well as the conditions and political climate that he grew up into. On a global scale, we still have a long way to go when it comes to LGBTQIA+ rights and social acceptance, but it is also undeniable that just a few decades ago homosexuality was condemned socially and politically to such a degree that it rendered people who were outed unemployable pariahs, ruining their careers, families, reputations, and everything else in their lives for daring to love who they loved.

In this book George Takei also takes us through the stages of his career, from the early days where he caught the acting bug and couldn't let go of his dream, to how he was propelled to fame, landing the role of Hikaru Sulu in 1966, despite the difficulties of the era and the setbacks they caused for an Asian-American actor in the industry.

It's a fascinating read, both for fans of the actor, but also for anyone interested about the history of LGBTQIA+ rights, and frankly anyone who has ever felt isolated, lonely, and like they didn't quite fit in. Seeing a young boy growing up to follow his dreams, finding a person to love, eventually getting married to his husband in 2008, and finding his place in the world, living his life on his own terms, is nothing short of inspiring, and also a little reminder that, despite dark times, change is always possible.

The art by the extremely talented Harmony Becker, who also worked on 'They Called Us Enemy' is gorgeous and fits the book well, and the storytelling is just beautiful and sincere, making it impossible to not get invested. From the very first pages it becomes very clear that this is a story of hope, being told by a man who is looking back at his life, and after decades of being told by society that it's best to keep one of the most important parts of himself hidden, he is sharing his truth with the world.

A huge thank you to IDW Publishing and Top Shelf Productions for offering me an advance review copy. The book is coming out on June 10, 2025.

Recent Read: The Passion of Pedro Almodóvar: A Self-Portrait in Seven Films

I recently got my hands on 'The Passion of Pedro Almodóvar: A Self-Portrait in Seven Films' by James Miller, a book that, as the title suggests, explores the real life story of the Spanish director and the mark he has left on European and global cinema by drawing parallels with the themes he has chosen to explore in 7 of his most well-known films, or as Miller puts it, 7 of his most personal works. From 'Volver' to 'Pain And Glory' and 'Bad Education', the book is divided into sections dedicated to each film separately, both exploring Almodóvar's inspirations and arguing the autobiographical nature of these works, as discerned by the author.

Miller does a great job in structuring the book, and sharing enough information to create a big picture by exploring both Spanish and cinematic history in a way that allows the reader to have a clear understanding of Almodóvar's formative experiences, and thus his perspective as a creator. It is worth keeping in mind that although the book is undeniably a thorough and engaging exploration of the auteur's work through a deeply thoughtful and analytical lens, and does often back its points using Pedro Almodóvar's own public statements, it is in the end of the day solely based on the author's personal interpretation of Almodóvar's approach to film making.

Of course cinema, like any other art form, is experienced differently by different people, so naturally every time someone attempts to analyse a film, or in this case an entire filmography, they are unavoidably impacted by the ways it spoke to them personally. It becomes evident from the start that the author has both a vast knowledge of Almodóvar's work and a very deep appreciation of him as a film-maker. This is of course necessary, if one intends to write such a deep analysis of how a creator's life experiences are interwoven into their art, but at the same time the book at points puts Almodóvar on an impenetrable pedestal that leaves no room for critique.

And even though the book definitely addresses the several times the auteur has been challenged for certain artistic choices, specifically about the ways he used themes of trauma and sexual abuse in his works, I would have appreciated a more critical and rounded approach to the matter, especially given the sensitive subjects in question.

There is a balanced middle ground between unquestioning praise and absolute condemnation, that allows for art to be discussed both as a form of expression that is free to touch upon taboos and use uncomfortable subjects to provoke the status quo and invoke certain thoughts and feelings, and also as something deeply human, and thus imperfect, that isn't perceived and experienced the same way by everyone, and therefore cannot be exempt from scrutiny. Unfortunately, the book did not always succeed in finding that balance for me.

'The Passion of Pedro Almodóvar' is first and foremost aimed at someone who is already a fan, but can also be read by anyone curious to learn more about the film-maker and gain a deeper knowledge of his works. The author provides enough information for each film so it's not necessary for someone to have watched all 7 of them before reading, but this also means that spoilers about every important plot point cannot be avoided.

A sincere thank you to Columbia University Press for providing me with a review copy of the book.