Zodiac A graphic memoir

Renowned artist and human rights activist Ai Weiwei makes his graphic novel debut with a philosophical and profoundly sociopolitical collection of stories centered around the 12 signs of the Chinese zodiac. Ai Weiwei frames the animals of the zodiac around Chinese folktales and autobiographical events that shift between narrative past and present in the form of conversations between himself and his young son, Ai Lao, and as rhetorical discussions on the nature of art as expressions of freedom with friends and acquaintances. "Art is like Wukong," Ai Weiwei writes. "Like the Monkey King, it has the power to transform itself. It can manipulate wind, water, and fire. And like Wukong, it can be impatient." The art by Constantini is exquisite; rough and almost unfinished sketches alternate with intricate, detailed line work, like a memory that fades with age but returns in sharp, photographic urgency when tied to a particular sentiment. The stories are intense, intimate, and transformative, and Ai Weiwei is keenly aware of his and his family's place in Chinese history. "There are never too many stories . . . especially when they explain who we are."

Chinese artist-activist Weiwei's poignant, meditative graphic memoir debut opens as he speaks to his son about the past, and the "powerful men"--such as Mao Zedong--who "made decisions for everybody" during the cultural revolution, including what few books people were allowed to read. Weiwei interweaves his family's story and that of his own development (and persecution) as an artist alongside Chinese fables and folktales as an act of resistance. Dividing the work into chapters named for the 12 signs of the Zodiac, Weiwei philosophizes through anecdotes ("You like speaking in metaphors," says his partner and mother of his son) that unfold in understated yet intricately drawn black-and-white comics by Constantini. Among other memories, Weiwei recounts living in exile underground with his family as a child ("in a burrow dug in the desert") and how his father, Ai Qing, an "enemy to the party," first turned from painting to poetry while jailed. "An artist has to be the beginning of a story, not the end," Weiwei opines, emphasizing the potential of art to connect people and ideas. "We must combat fear with the truth." This is a sage and inventive embroidery of philosophy, family memoir, and cultural history. Agents: (for Weiwei) Peter and Amy Bernstein, Bernstein Literary. (Jan.)

Gr 9 Up--This graphic memoir is beautifully crafted. Structurally, it details the main characteristics of the 12 animal signs in the Chinese zodiac, and then presents ancient Chinese folktales that depict the theme of each animal. These Chinese folktales interweave with artist Ai Weiwei's life, including his family, imprisonment, and career during the Chinese Cultural Revolution era. Poets, teachers, and artists who were commonly accused and condemned during Mao's Hundred Flowers Movement are also illustrated in great detail. The narrative shifts back and forth through years of events, charting Weiwei's memory. Living in exile since he was a young child, with no formal education, and being restricted only to Chinese Communist Party--approved comic books all act to cultivate Weiwei's ability to express his thoughts and create art. VERDICT Readers will enjoy learning about the extraordinary life journey of artist Ai Weiwei. Recommended.--Anna Ching-Yu Wong

The internationally renowned Chinese artist recalls a life of resistance and oppression. In this graphic treatment of his life, with illustrations by Italian artist Costantini, Ai blends manifesto and fairy tale for an audience made up of his young son. The first lesson involves cats and mice, the former of which do not figure in the Chinese zodiac, while mice are recognized as resourceful and smart--if also pests. Ai recalls trapping mice to keep them away from the scarce grain that his family, in exile, managed to grow on unforgiving terrain. This memory occasions an aside about how those in power trap their subjects, and he honors murdered Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi in that connection. "Like the cats," Ai writes, "we have to keep the door that we call freedom of speech and thought open." That kind of sentiment will lead to trouble in a totalitarian regime, and such has been the case with the often-jailed artist. In one episode, a police officer who looks suspiciously like Xi Jinping admonishes him, "If you call yourself an artist, you are arrogant. You should say art worker. That is the Party's idea." The fairy tales have a political dimension at every turn, as when Ai tells of a white snake who becomes a human in order to marry a scholar, only to be betrayed by a false monk; he adds, "our false monk was that water snake, Mao Zedong." Art is a struggle in any society where it's not recognized, as during Mao's reign. At the same time, "Art is wrestling with yourself." Finally allowed to leave the country, Ai continues to resist the Chinese regime, closing with the pointed observation, "Any artist who isn't an activist is a dead artist." A welcome introduction to the life and work of an exemplary artist. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.