I Guess the Cat is Out of the Bag

            When my eyes first gazed at the cover of The Rabbi's Cat by Joann Sfar, I can't explain why, but I expected it to be tragic, and I can say that what I found in this graphic novel was the last thing I was expecting. The moment I was done reading the first page I had already fallen in love with the cat.

            This cat was everything that I love in a character. He was sarcastic, bold, funny, and just all around relatable for me. Growing up, I acted as the cat for my grandfather as I questioned everything about Christianity. My grandfather is a very religious man, and he remains to this day very committed to his faith, but I would ask every question under the sun about why God was supposed to be this way and why the bible said this and what this meant and so on and so forth. As a child my mother swears ever since the moment I learned to talk I have never stopped talking or asking the question why. I about drove my entire family insane, but I wanted to know everything, and I still do.

            Just like the cat I thirsted for knowledge and I even had my own stories to share. I adopted different tones, and even accents, in order to tell my extravagant stories about things like a big, scary bat. Now the cat isn't so dramatic when he tells his stories, but when he tells the 'real' story about Malka of the Lions, he's sharing what he knows and sees. Plus, it never hurts that he's adorable especially when he's smiling about how he's in love with his mistress in the third panel on page 16. This panel just defines the cat and the way he approaches life.

            The cat and I just formed an instant, unbreakable bond that is ineffable. I loved this novel so much that I may have to read the others. This graphic novel really helped me to truly recognize the value of graphic novels. Zorro was good, but this was so much better! Best graphic novel I've ever read, but considering it's only my second one my opinion may not be so valid.

Opportunities and Decisions

            I have to say when my eyes passed over, "I was not sorry when my brother died" (Dangarembga 5) – in Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga – my eyes went wide. The shock caused me to read that line not once, not twice, but so many times that I lost count. However, once I absorbed it, I understood completely. I know it's terrible to say but some "bad" things happen for the better. There are some people that just hold us down.

            For instance, my biological father abandoning me when I was 14 would be defined as a horrible thing from an outside perspective, and all I would say in response is, "I was not sorry when my father left." Like Tambu and her schooling, I got friends for the first time in my life. Without the commitment of spending Friday night at my father's it opened doors for me that were even beyond my imagination before. This is exactly how Tambu feels about her brother's death.

           

            Tambu's character made sense to me so much more clearly than anyone elses. She has risen from poverty to having these nice things. It did change her, but it did not change who she wanted to be. Unlike Nyasha, Tambu picks her battles and finds smaller ways to rebel without unleashing Babamukuru's entire wrath on herself. This is what I do in my life with conflict. It's too exhausting to fight every battle like Nyasha, so you have to be smart about the things you fight for and decide whether something or someone is truly worth fighting for. This applies to every part of life and every choice you make. Dangarembga is warning us to make wise choices.