Na Liu is a doctor of hematology and oncology. She moved from
Wuhan, China, to Austin, Texas, in 1998 to work as a research
scientist for MD Anderson Cancer Center. She met her husband,
Andrés Vera Martínez, in Austin.
Andrés Vera Martínez was born in Lamesa, Texas, and was raised in
Austin. He has created comics and illustrations for Scholastic,
Simon & Schuster, CBS/Showtime, and the New York Times. His work
has received awards and recognition from the Society of
Illustrators, 3x3 Magazine, and American Illustration.
Na Liu and Andrés Vera Martínez live in Brooklyn, New York, with
their daughter, Mei Lan. They take annual trips to visit their
families in Wuhan and Austin.
Based on her childhood experiences, Na Liu and her husband have
created a rich, multilayered memoir, incorporating history,
geography, language, culture, and mythology into eight short
stories; then weaving them together to create an exquisite tapestry
of life in China during the 1970s. The work follows a logical
progression, capturing youthful experiences against a broad Chinese
landscape. Background information establishes each story and
seamlessly segues into personal reminiscence, with excellent
interweaving of each section. For example, the introductory dream
sequence features Na Liu and her sister flying on a crane's back
over panoramic China. The first narrative panel depicts the girls'
awakening, with a painting of a white crane visible behind their
bed. Mythological origins of New Year transition into an account of
the family's celebration, with red banners and a dragon puppet
echoing the colors and patterns from the previous holiday
description. Scenes of daily life are juxtapostioned against the
political climate, retelling simple stories through comic panels
that can be enjoyed by young readers, but also delivering
interesting perspectives and biting commentary on social issues.
The grim realities of government propaganda, social class, and
family dynamics make the memoir even more poignant. Humor, as well
as the plays on words, enlivens many of the sections. The
children's expressive faces provide a personal reaction to these
contrasting points of view. This picturesque treasure introduces
Chinese culture through a personal perspective that is both
delightful and thought-provoking. --starred, School Library
Journal-- "Journal"
A doctor of oncology and hematology, author Liu was born in China
in 1973, and her life there for more than 20 years provides plenty
of odd autobiographical tidbits for this graphic novel inspired by
her experiences. Aimed toward kids, Liu's story captures life in
China in the experience of one child, showing how even the broadest
governmental policies and cultural standards affect an individual's
smallest moments. These darker corners give Liu's reminiscence its
power: strict Chinese one-child laws, the graphic misfortune of
animals in China, the poverty and surliness of Liu's rural
relatives. Yet while the landscape is different, the children's
escapades are the same as those of kids today. This is the result
of a husband-and-wife collaboration, and the emotional bond of the
partnership is clear on every page. Liu is a calm storyteller whose
words are enlivened by Martinez's enthusiastic and energetic art,
and their respective tones complement each other fluidly.
Martinez's work is a loving depiction of his wife in childhood,
providing atmosphere through not only his period details in the
stories, but also the between-story spreads that broaden the
reader's scope in understanding life in China at that time.
--Publishers Weekly-- "Journal"
A striking glimpse into Chinese girlhood during the 1970s and
'80s.
Beginning with a breathtaking dream of riding a golden crane over
the city of Wuhan, China, Liu Na, recounts her subsequent waking
only to discover that Chairman Mao has passed away. The 3-year-old
finds this difficult to process and understand, although she is
soon caught up in the somber mood of the event. From there, her
life unfolds in short sketches. With this intimate look at her
childhood memories, Liu skillfully weaves factual tidbits into the
rich tapestry of her life. In the section titled 'The Four Pests, '
she explains about the four pests that plague China--the rat, the
fly, the mosquito and the cockroach (with an additional explanation
of how the sparrow once made this list, and why it is no longer on
it)--and her stomach-turning school assignment to catch rats and
deliver the severed tails to her teacher. In 'Happy New Year! The
Story of Nian the Monster, ' she explains the origins of Chinese
New Year, her favorite holiday, and her own vivid, visceral
reflections of it: the sights, sounds and smells. Extraordinary and
visually haunting, there will be easy comparisons to Allen Say's
Drawing from Memory (2011); think of this as the female counterpart
to that work.
Beautifully drawn and quietly evocative. --starred, Kirkus
Reviews-- "Journal"
Americans today are used to a particular narrative when it comes to
Communist China. In the beginning, Maoist ideals provide the
Chinese protagonists with comfort and hope. Eventually, though,
ideals give way to suffering.My mother's family escaped from
mainland China just as the Communist Party came to power. Growing
up, I was steeped in this narrative through my family's stories. I
opened Na Liu and Andrés Vera Martínez's 'Little White Duck: A
Childhood in China' expecting to encounter it once again.'Little
White Duck' is a collection of eight autobiographical short stories
from Liu's own childhood, illustrated as comics by Martínez. Liu
grew up in China during the 1970s and '80s, then came to the United
States in 1999 as a research scientist. Martínez is her
American-born husband.Early in the book, a young Liu, nicknamed Da
Qin (Big Piano), finds her parents in their kitchen. They tell her
that her grandfather has passed away. Da Qin starts to cry, but
can't figure out which grandfather they're mourning. Later, her
family walks past a giant mural of Chairman Mao. 'Ooooh!' Da Qin
says, pointing to the mural. 'That grandpa.'Da Qin's parents take
her to a vigil for the deceased leader. 'My parents would explain
that sad day to me many years later, ' Liu writes.I thought Liu
would explain 'that sad day' in accordance with my family's
stories: perhaps she would describe the horrors of the Cultural
Revolution. Maybe Martínez would trace the ribs of a re-education
camp victim with his delicate brush.Instead, Da Qin tells her
family's stories. After her mother got polio, Mao's army performed
multiple surgeries free and helped her to walk again. A government
scholarship enabled her father to leave behind the backbreaking
life of a farmer. Her parents married and made a prosperous life
for their two children, Da Qin and her younger sister, Xiao Qin
(Little Piano).At this point, I almost put the book down. Reading
about the virtues of Chinese Communism felt like a betrayal of my
family. However, Liu's writing and Martínez's cartooning compelled
me to continue.'Little White Duck' isn't Communist propaganda. It
is at once more innocent and more sophisticated. What Liu and
Martínez do is convey a child's-eye view of a country in
transition. Politics, culture and history play into their stories,
but the reader's awareness of them is a child's awareness. The
mural of Mao and the ancient gods and the colorful posters
encouraging patriotic behavior are probably important, but
fireworks, schemes to catch rats and pretty jackets with soft
little white duck-shaped patches are so much more interesting.Liu
and Martínez perfectly capture that childhood exuberance, but
grown-up sensibilities nonetheless underlie their storytelling.
Every so often, Martínez's panels give way to propagandistic
images, forcing a dialogue between Da Qin's real life and the ideal
life espoused by her government.Martínez maintains a beautiful
hand-drawn quality throughout, even in his lettering. This makes
the occasional intrusion of blatantly digital effects all the more
jarring. In a scene in which Da Qin's family prepares for a New
Year celebration, the Chinese calligraphy adorning the hallway is
so clearly cut-and-pasted that it undermines the book's
intimacy.'Little White Duck' closes with a wrenching tale of Da
Qin's trip to the countryside, where she meets her father's
relatives for the first time. Her cousins marvel at the soft little
white duck-shaped patch on her pretty jacket. Then they blacken it
with their dirty fingers. Instead of toys, they play with bugs.
Their poverty leaves Da Qin speechless.By realizing that inequality
exists even in the People's Republic, Da Qin the child begins to
grow into Liu the adult. Perhaps 'Little White Duck' isn't so
different from my family's stories after all. By the end of the
book, though, I didn't really care, and that's the brilliance of
what Liu and Martínez have done. Their characters are more than
just pieces to be puzzled into someone else's narrative. They're
living, breathing people. --The New York Times Book Review
-- "Newspaper"
Graphic memoirs are a cornerstone of the graphic-novel format, but
rarely are they written with children as the primary audience. In
eight short stories, Liu has done just that, giving younger readers
a glimpse into her life growing up in China just after the death of
Chairman Mao. By linking her stories to a teaching by Confucius
that says one learns in three ways--by studying history, by
imitating others, and through one's own experience--Liu shows how
her parents survived the famine during China's Great Leap Forward,
how the death of soldier Lei Feng influenced the behavior of Liu
and her sister, and how a trip to the countryside to visit her
relations helped Liu realize just how privileged her life in the
city was. The stories are vivid even without Martinéz's bold
artwork that evokes both traditional Chinese scrolls and midcentury
propaganda posters. The result is a memoir that reads like a fable,
a good story with a moral that resonates. --Booklist Online--
"Website"
This title travels through the childhood of Na Liu in Wuhan, China
in eight delightful stories. The book is illustrated by her husband
with colorful pen and ink drawings. The stories take Na and her
sister from the death of Chairman Mao to a visit to her grandmother
and relatives who live in the countryside. One of the stories
explains the various symbols used during Chinese New Year. The
China of her childhood is a different country from her parents'.
This is a beautiful introduction to a China that few of us will
ever understand. The book also contains a glossary of Mandarin
Chinese words used as well as translations of Chinese characters in
the various chapters. --starred, Library Media Connection--
"Journal"
Wife-and-husband team Na Liu and Andrés Vera Martínez use a
graphic-novel format to bring Liu's childhood in 1970s Wuhan,
China, to life for contemporary children.
Much will seem the same--family life with a younger sister, school,
a visit with a semi-scary grandmother--but the particulars in the
eight vignettes included here make all the difference. Liu recalls
her uncontrollable (and uncomprehending) sobbing at the death of a
'grandpa' she did not really know, Chairman Mao; creativity and
finally subterfuge is required when her teacher commands each
student to bring in four rat tails as evidence of participation in
the government campaign to rid the country of vermin. Illustrator
Martínez gleefully pictures the sisters' elaborate fantasies for
rat-trapping (like putting a soybean up the butt of one rat,
sending it into a frenzy that will cause it to kill the rest of the
pack) as well as their eventual mutual admittance that they can't
even touch a rat to sever the required tail ('EEEYuu! GROSS!').
Author and illustrator together give us an unvarnished and intimate
account of a real childhood: plain-speaking, rough-hewn, and very
much down-to-earth. While the time and place the book depicts are
very different from our own, there's not a hint of sentimentality
or exoticism: the scene where the mother shames the girls into
cleaning their plates by telling them the real story about starving
children in China is simultaneously horrifying and hilarious. A
glossary, a chronology, and an author's note provide context.
--starred, The Horn Book Magazine -- "Journal"
This extraordinary memoir offers readers a close-up picture of life
in 1970s China.
Called 'Da Qin' ('Big Piano'), Na Liu was born near Wuhan, China,
in 1973. The book opens as four-year-old Da Qin wakes up next to
her younger sister. Thinking she'll be late for school, she grabs a
cup, and heads outside to a spigot to brush her teeth. But there is
no school today. It is September 6, 1976, and Chairman Mao has
died. Unlike many books written by Chinese-born Americans about
life under Mao, Na Liu's demonstrates the benefits of the regime to
her family, especially to her mother who, paralyzed by polio as a
girl, was able to walk again. Andrés Vera Martínez (Babe Ruth), Na
Liu's husband, co-author and the artist of the book, uses the
graphic novel format to perfection, zeroing in on young Da Qin's
face when she sees her parents' sorrow, and conveying the
chairman's importance through wide-angle views of Mao's likeness on
street murals and banners.
In the last and most moving chapter, 'Little White Duck, ' Da Qin
insists on wearing her coat with a velvet white duck to her Baba's
rural village. By the close of the book, Da Qin has learned
firsthand of the disparities that her mother and father told her
about, and gained compassion because of it. Liu and Martínez find
the universal moments in the details of an exotic land, inviting
readers to see themselves in Da Qin's experiences of friendship,
family and country.
An extraordinary graphic novel-memoir by a husband-and-wife team
offering a rare view of 1970s China. --Shelf Awareness
-- "Website"
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