Simon Shiel is brought closer to the horrific power of Octavia E Butler’s novel in the comic book adaptation with its bold dramatic visuals

The graphic novel adaptation of Octavia Butler’s brilliant and harrowing Kindred opens with the startling image of the main character, Dana, her left arm cut off from her elbow. Her sorrow and exhaustion are vividly drawn, making them stare out at the reader. It’s a striking image to begin the book with and a warning shot to us: there lies a difficult journey ahead.

The story follows Dana, a modern African-American writer, who finds herself inexplicably travelling backwards and forwards between her own time in Los Angeles 1976 to a plantation in Maryland before the Civil War. Here she meets her ancestors: a proud, black free woman and a white planter who has forced her into slavery and a sexual relationship. Dana seems linked to Rufus, the slave owner and ancestor, in some way; each trip to the past is prompted by Rufus being in some form of danger. Dana rescues him from drowning, finds him fallen from a tree, suffering with dengue fever. Each trip lasts longer on the plantation and she sees Rufus grow from a child of the South to a slave owner and master of the estate.

The book charts Dana’s relationship with Rufus and the people that populate his plantation. We watch as her relationships with Alice, Cara and others grow, how she finds a small measure of space to help where and how she can. It’s a delicate line to walk, as even teaching slave children to read can have drastic consequences for all involved. Someone as well educated as she is draws suspicion from the slave owners, who rule the plantation through sheer cruelty.

Through all her trips we see the genesis of a monster in Rufus, from a child to the slave trader he becomes. The story tells how fragile an existence it was for those people trying to survive in a system designed for the privileged white owners like him. In one traumatic scene, Dana watches slave children play-acting in the fields, pretending to sell each other. The horror of the time is highlighted again and again, not only in the violence, but also watching that system of oppression infiltrate every corner of people’s existence. The book works so well in conveying all these moments.

Indeed, writer Damian Duffy and illustrator John Jennings distill Butler’s prose and match it with sharp, visceral illustrations to render the story in brutal uncompromising images. At first glance, the art seems a little rushed, a little raw, but as the story unfolds you quickly realize the rawness and almost frantic energy is there for a reason. It builds on the trauma of the world and there is a physicality to Jenning’s art which is undeniable. His characters are drawn in busy hurried stokes, thick lines etched around them to bring them out to the reader’s eyes. It serves to present their reality to us, and each act of violence that happens to them – and there are many – connects with us because of that physicality. The art draws on the horrific power of the work and makes it manifest, each frantic scratched line portraying the violence of the time.

Kindred’s story is impressively told here, serving as a fine accompaniment to the novel. The graphic novel renders the story in bold dramatic visuals which connect us to Dana’s story and immerses us in the horrors of the plantation. It’s a powerful and moving read that acts as a perfect introduction to the rest of Butler’s work. Duffy and Jenning’s next collaboration will be a follow-up adaptation of Butler’s Parable of the Sower and will be well worth looking out for when it is released later in the year.

Kindred: A Graphic Novel Adaptation by Octavia E Butler, Damian Duffy and John Jennings is published by Abrams.

Simon Shiel
Latest posts by Simon Shiel (see all)