by Trung Le Nguyen
graphic novel
The Magic Fish is a poignant, moving and stunning work of art; a gorgeous graphic novel that provokes thoughtful connections between immigrant experiences, fairy tales, and coming out.
Nguyen’s debut graphic novel follows Tiến, whose parents are refugees from Vietnam now living in the US. As Tiến wrestles with coming out to his parents, his mother is also struggling with remaining connected with her ailing mother back home. As both struggle separately and together, they read aloud fairy tale stories to help Tiến’s mother improve her English.
The Magic Fish is a gentle and beautiful book but it also feels deeply personal, and it is, as Nguyen describes in the afterward. Tiến, Helen and the other characters are fully rounded characters who share their own experiences (with thoughtful pacing, and without any exposition), but it never feels like they’re aiming to be minority representatives who speak for all immigrants, queer people or people of color. Even though Tiến is the protagonist throughout, his mother’s story and her fears about her son quickly become the emotional anchor for the narrative.
The three fairy tales are each versions of the Cinderella narrative, but with different points of origin and interpretations, depending on who’s telling the story. Usually, the story-within-a-story doesn’t work for me, but here it only deepened and expanded Nguyen’s exploration of his characters and themes. The stories we tell ourselves, how we place ourselves and our idealized world within those stories, is especially important for minorities and those who feel like they have one foot in two worlds, but never both – not unlike the fairy tales’ protagonists.
Nguyen’s gorgeous and detail oriented artwork is as much of an experience as the narrative itself. Scenes are washed in one primary color, creating a strong mood that also separates the fairy tales from Tiến and his family. His simple style is still nuanced with lovely facial expressions (particularly Tiến looking at his crush!), and he really invested in the detail of the princesses’ hair and dresses (it was a bit reminiscent of Colleen Doran of Snow, Glass, Apples), giving those scenes a storybook, magical feel without disconnecting it too much from Tiến’s story. I also loved the panel structure, and how Nguyen used white space effectively – especially when several disconnected panels reveal one scene.
If anyone asked me why I loved comic books and graphic novels, I would proudly hand them The Magic Fish.
Reading Art 