A journey through the inbetween places of the British landscape to the bleak coast, Kingdom follows a family on their holiday to a small caravan park, where teenager Andrew explores the dunes, and half-remembered stories from the past are shared.
Once again, Jon McNaught creates a beautiful graphic novel that makes the ordinary, extraordinary.
After just having read Kevin Huizenga's close look at insomnia in the mundane life of an unemployed man in Glenn Ganges in The River at Night, it only seems right to follow that read with the quiet, lovely tale of a holiday a mum and her two young children' take, visiting an older aunt's house at the sea. The kids are throughly bored visiting the old woman, forced to look at old photographs of when Mom was young, getting respite only from video games and sci fi movies on the telly.
The natural scenes are the real treat, lovely, with some amazing two-pages spreads, though many pages feature very small "snapshot" panels, up to two dozen a page at times, which can prove a little challenging. So it's a story of a working-class holiday, mundane and yet, with a close look at the sea, sweet. Many many wordless pages with which I associate McNaught's work, contemplative, nostalgic, wistful, amusing. Gorgeous work of an "ordinary" life made extraordinary through light and line and color.
The slogans on lorries that offer a slight distraction as you are driven along the motorway by a parent. The false promises of a shopping centre. The certainty that you'll love somewhere because the same parent once loved being there. The knowing that it won't be so. The weather. The boy who's tougher than you (or wants you to believe he is). The unnoticed birds calling and dining on fast food. The visit to a great-aunt. The ornaments in her home. The caravan park where others are, perhaps, having a better time. The idea of entertainment offered by television. The games on a phone. The buttons in a museum that don't work. The sibling who doesn't want you near them.
I try to approach limited-text graphic novels with as little prior knowledge as possible to gauge the art and visual storytelling on my own before looking at synopses or reviews.
That being said, this book does not tell a story; it captures an experience.
Every artistic decision feels deliberate and lends itself well to portraying a mundane holiday to the English seaside.
I've never even been to England, but I've somehow been on this vacation before. I too have reluctantly been dragged on escapades meant to be relaxing and fun that turned out to be disappointing and dull. Somewhere in the distance, a bird KAAAAHs.
I appreciate the art on a technical level as well as the ability to capture the atmosphere so poignantly, but it wasn't my cup of tea. Reading this book reminds me of listening to the rain: relaxing in the right mood, but otherwise lacking in any particular substance.
2 stars.
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There is something about the caravan holiday experience. You set off full of promise, with involuntary pipe-dreams of making new friends, romantic connections and wild adventures. Ultimately though there seems to be little disappointment in the real experience that finds you heading home after a subtle and introspective time. In his new Graphic novel Kingdom, Jon McNaught gives any people-watcher or pensive soul the opportunity of their dreams to zoom in on an ordinary family on the motorway during the holiday season in England, and to briefly and subtly step into the shoes of each family member during the trip.
For me this book is about the very human need to carve out a personal space within a family dynamic. McNaught reveals how people define and find themselves through their treasures; the things they notice and are drawn to. He also shines a warm and understated light on generation gaps, and delicately exposes the effects of modern day technology without his tone becoming didactic. The many instances of human connection and disconnect are portrayed subtly, with no sense of judgement on any of the characters even when they hurt and disappoint each other.
McNaughts muted colour palette of coral and blue complements the contemplative and sensitive overall tone. The underlying theme of death, and our separate ways of coming to terms with such a universal experience, is dealt with using an extra-fine touch. We are left to ponder our significance and impermanence, our individuality and our connection. I loved the juxtaposition of inside and outside, and the idea that a caravan treads the line between the two zones. For the young characters, being outside gives new perspective on life. We follow their viewpoints from up high, down low, from upside down and whilst spinning.
All in all this has become one of my favourite graphic novels. It is a beautifully nostalgic and relatable read for anybody who has stepped out of their busy lives to spend time in a small isolated space with their family during the holidays. I think it would be a great gift for sibling and is a must-read for the thoughtful and inward-looking amongst us.
Click here for the petty reason that I knocked off a star
I can imagine (perhaps unfairly) that there are some readers who will finish this exquisite book and think, "But nothing happened," and I guess that's technically true.
But on the other hand, everything happens. As I read this, I found I often had a catch in my throat; even though my own family vacations took place in a wholly different time and country, Kingdom seems, somehow, universally evocative of a certain kind of nostalgia, helped by its allowance for silence -- the "nothing happened" aspect.
There is a lot more depth here than it looks at first glance. It is minimalist in many ways. Not much is said.
But goddamn if this isn’t my wife and my two kids in this story. They all sort of seem to be living in a vacuum near each other (me too). We’re connected in a lot of ways, but some days it feels like we’re just atoms in a room knocking into one another from time to time, especially as the kids get older.
But the cool thing is, everyone is making meaning and finding meaning in their own ways. The mother is curating the past, trying to persuade her children of its importance. She wants them to care about her past, but she doesn’t push it.
I came to the realization a long time ago that my past, and what will become my past, is my own. I can’t expect my kids to care. If they do it will be nice though.
I’m 38 and in the last few years I finally started paying more attention to family history. I always enjoyed the gossip, but the real shit I tuned out of.
Where do property lines begin and end? What kinds of guns and cars and equipment do my parents think I’ll want or need from what they have accumulated in their lives? What property might prove best for logging or hunting or selling? All of that is relevant as my parents start thinking more about how they aren’t going to be around forever, which gets me realizing I’m not going to be around forever, which then gets me pushing the kids to take stock in what will become their pasts, and the common threads from generation to generation.
They half listen, as I did. But that half listening is kind of like a browser storing cookies. Every time I hear the stories or details my parents share with me, it gets a bit easier to remember. It becomes familiar territory. Their memories become mine.
This story is about all that kind of shit, and if it isn’t apparent while reading, the game the mother and daughter play at the end drives the point home, but it isn’t too heavy handed.
It was a bittersweet book. Good on this fucker for writing it.
This style of artwork did very little for me and yet his talent is clearly apparent. There were plenty of moments where this looked like it could have developed into something creepy and special, but instead what we got is a lot of squawking, cawing birds, computer games, phone reception related dramas and a series of fragmented beach encounters.
I think the danger of trying to cram so many small panels onto the page is that it can become crowded, distracting and annoying. More is less and I don’t think it works well in here at all, and in the end I thought it made for fairly messy reading. This depicts a boring, family holiday, but there is no story as such and I really couldn’t see anything about this to recommend it to anyone.
In 'Kingdom' a mother goes on vacation with her two children to a seaside resort. The whole book seems like a depiction of boredom. Nothing really interesting happens, and especially painful are the panels in which the boy is more interested in his own cellphone than in his surroundings. Because there is no story arc whatsoever, the story is not the highlight of this graphic novel.
No, the main reason to pick up this book is the extraordinarily beautiful artwork. McNaught has a very graphic style, very reminiscent of screen printing. He uses only the colors red, blue and black, and tells his story in often tiny squares, with great attention to detail. Indeed, despite the graphic representation there is a high sense of realism, more than in any other graphic novel or comic I know. The tiny story squares are interspersed with larger panels, which can count as mood pieces. Especially the panels depicting heavy rain are very beautiful. It's a pity McNaught couldn't tell a more engaging story with such great art.
A mother, son, and daughter go to the British coast for a weekend vacation.
The artwork in this is blunt and beautiful. Little happens in the story - the kids are bored, the mom enjoys just being able to sit for a quiet second in the sun - yet it evokes a lot of feelings of nostalgia and memory. Several of the pages consist of lots of little square panels with no text that focus on details that really make the experience. The two page spread of rain in a parking lot is made tremendously affecting after following on the claustrophobic pages before. I was impressed.
I appreciate art of the simple things, and I really enjoyed this book for its stunning visual style, the simplicity of depicting a holiday weekend made me wish I could keep this book to occasionally flip though to appreciate the art, not necessarily read back through for the power of the story. There are gems to be found in here for sure.
Immediately the book had feelings of nostalgia. Quiet moments captured in a handful of panels. Memories I would not have thought to remember were pulled from the depths of my mind. And all with such a quiet beauty and fondness.
With a limited colour palette, blocky art style, use of shade, and stylised text, the artwork is simple but beautiful. There is depth and texture. The size and number of panels varies from page to page, but each and every frame is beautiful and worthy of taking several moments to appreciate.
A slightly longer review can be found on my book blog: Marvel at Words.
I didn't realize this was a slow, slice of life story of a summer weekend at the beach. It has no plot whatsoever, but in a good way. It wasn't exciting, but it was extremely atmospheric and nostalgic. Takes you back to lazy days as a kid where time stood still...
This is a magical book about an experience that is anything but magical: a family vacation. I might be biased in that regard. My family spent a week each summer at either Hampton Beach, NH or camping outside Misquamicut beach in RI. I have almost no fond memories of these trips.
I am quite fond of Jon McNaught's artwork here. His choice of panel layouts is cinematic, juxtaposing the three main characters with snapshots (get it?) of random details in their surroundings. And by using variations of a 35-panel, 5x7 grid, he has plenty of opportunity to immerse the reader in the seaside Britian resort. He is able to wordlessly develop the characters via what they notice in their surroundings. He also switches between blue and red color palettes; I wasn't able to interpret the patterns of this change in tone, but perhaps on a second read.
Andrew is just on the cusp of surly adolescence. His anger is close to the surface and will no doubt bloom in the coming school year. Too old to enjoy the family holiday; too young to conceive of any other way to be. His perspective is clouded by the impending hormonal tsunami. He takes refuge from the vacation in video games and social media.
Clara is some 6-8 years younger. Her perspective is much more narrow, and with her brother bristling at her every move, she's also alienated on this trip. Birds and waves and mud puddles attract her gaze, but are hardly fulfilling.
All the while mom tries to organize the trip and cater to everyone's needs. Vacations like this are bizarre pantomimes in which we fail to balance excitement with relaxation, coming away with neither. They are ultimately frustrating attempts at nostalgia. McNaught captures this melancholy with both structure and art. And as Andrew says in an only slightly veiled context, "You can't hide somewhere that doesn't exist anymore. . . . You definitely can't"
Quality Rating: Four Stars Enjoyment Rating: Four Stars
A lovely little collection of meditations on growing up in the modern day and age. McNaught's illustration style is so careful and thoughtful, interested in tiny details and moments, sounds and feelings and images. I'd love to see him make a film. This book is both melancholic and content. It mourns what the present has done to the way we socialise, but it also sympathises with the breakdown of communication between generations. It doesn't tell you what to feel at all, and I think different people will empathise with different characters.
The artwork in this book is absolutely stunning. I love the way McNaught focuses on the minutiae of everyday life, the things that others might not notice or might think uninteresting- because here they become beautiful and fascinating. His way he puts his stories together with minimal dialogue and far more art frames than most comic book/ graphic novelists gives his story a slowly unfolding, meditative kind of feel that has a rhythm unique to McNaught's work. Wonderful stuff.
the art, and use of colour was breathtaking. but the lack of story wasn't my cup of tea. usually I'm a fan of slice of life type stuff but the story/engagement fell a little flat for me. the little englishisms really made me smile. give it a go, a very quick read.
This graphic novel is tactually and visually stunning. The cover has a raw, cardboard feel with a matte design overlayed with a glossy titled, text box. It was the look and feel of the cover that drew me in. It was the muted colored, grid, tiled artwork with very little text that hooked me. The story itself is very plain and not very eventful but the mundaneness of it is what I related to. Kingdom is just the story of a single mom and her two kids taking a road trip to a seaside resort (of sorts) she visited as a child. When they arrive, it’s obvious to the reader that the resort is not as Mom remembered it. It’s run down and there’s not much to do. Much to her teen son’s dismay. There’s also no wifi (insert heavy teen sigh here). The little sister, however, seems delighted by her surroundings. Much like Mom was as a child, I imagine. The son is able to find a bit of amusement with a local boy he meets on the beach and a dead animal they discover together. A scene in the story that really resonated with me was when Mom and daughter drove to a nearby town to visit an old aunt. The visit is just the three of them sitting while Mom and the aunt reminisce for hours. The girl is bored. I can vividly see myself, circa 1977 at my grandma’s house in Owensville.
Will teens like this graphic novel? I’m not sure. As I mentioned, there’s no action and not much plot. Non-readers will like the fact that there aren’t many words to read; it’s the pictures that tell the story.
I love the color, detail, and ability to push you into a place each of us can identify with. With the correct graphic novel, this is possible. There is no doubt the talent of Jon McNaught is present, and you certainly sense a rhythm of the environment, that often coincides with individuals.
The overall expectation was missing, and for me was a realization on behalf of one of the characters identified, however, maybe there does not have to be a lightbulb moment in very story. Maybe that is one of the most vital lessons to learn as well, in noticing the rhythms around us.
I definitely feel this rates high on illustration, and impacting me personally when I travel to the beach or outside anywhere in Delaware, or anywhere- pretty high, I just hoped for more connection on a storyline, but also think it could be me separating from the fast-paced world we get used to, expecting more and more, and simply falling short of being "entertained" all the time when there is plenty to keep our attention in the world around us :) I just feel there is a deeper message here, one I have not tapped into the first time around.
What a wonderful journey to the seaside. When I first picked it up, I was intregued because it had very little text and I wanted to know what they story was about. That is the brilliance of McNaught's work. With few words, Jon McNaught was able to tell the story of a mother and her two children as they travel from the city to the seaside for a vacation. Visiting a place that the mother went as a child was a bit of a nostalgic trip for her, but her children had a hard to finding that same connection. The difference in a generation and their feelings of being in this place illustrated the great divide between them. I loved the limited text and the use of color to symbolize various scenes and times of day. It was created in a way that made me want to take my time to view the images and slow down to take in the surroundings in the book. My only complaint is that it was hard to find the focus of the story and maybe that was the purpose. Does it have to have one? It was a story of a family on vacation; simple, quiet, and unassuming.
A beautifully drawn evocation of British childhood holidays. The mundanity of many elements experienced mixed with the fascination of small events and experiences that may in other circumstances not take on the same significance as they do when spending time in a different place and at a different pace. Richly nuanced on many different levels, addressing a wide gamut of “UK staycation” holiday experiences including motorway service stations, revisiting old haunts and viewing them with different, more mature eyes, visiting relatives you have not seen in years, or never met before to the impact of modern technology on relationships and ‘presence’ in the moment and of course the perennial challenge of getting a signal 😁 Anyone who has had a holiday in the UK as a child and/or an adult will recognise experiences in this book.
The graphic novel, Kingdom, by Jon McNaught, is a story of a mother driving her son and daughter to the water to stay for a few days. The family is portrayed as fairly typical, with some loving and argumentative moments. The mastery McNaught has over the illustration moving the story forward is anything but average. It is fascinating!
I found myself admiring the artist’s craft several times for different reasons. My favourite technique was speech bubbles set behind a character’s head that indicate when thoughts are trailing off in a different direction. Words are cut out by the silhouette and also sometimes from the edge of a frame. It’s a surprising and particular transition through stream of consciousness.
My other favourite aspect of technique in this graphic novel is the way that water is illustrated.
I highly recommend experiencing this escape to the sea!