Save It for Later: Promises, Protest, and Parenthood

by Nate Powell

From Nate Powell, the National Book Award–winning artist of March, a collection of graphic nonfiction essays about living in a new era of necessary protest

In seven interwoven comics essays, author and graphic novelist Nate Powell addresses living in an era of what he calls “necessary protest.” Save It for Later: Promises, Parenthood, and the Urgency of Protest is Powell’s reflection on witnessing the collapse of discourse in real time while drawing the award-winning trilogy March, written by Congressman John Lewis and Andrew Aydin, this generation’s preeminent historical account of nonviolent revolution in the civil rights movement. Powell highlights both the danger of normalized paramilitary presence symbols in consumer pop culture, and the roles we play individually as we interact with our communities, families, and society at large.
Each essay tracks Powell’s journey from the night of the election—promising his four-year-old daughter that Trump will never win, to the reality of the authoritarian presidency, protesting the administration’s policies, and navigating the complications of teaching his children how to raise their own voices in a world that is becoming increasingly dangerous and more and more polarized. While six of the seven essays are new, unpublished work, Powell has also included “About Face,” a comics essay first published by Popula Online that swiftly went viral and inspired him to expand his work on Save It for Later. The seventh and final essay will contextualize the myriad events of 2020 with the previous four years—from the COVID-19 pandemic to global protests in the wake of George Floyd’s murder to the 2020 presidential election itself—highlighting both the consistencies and inversions of widely shared experiences and observations amidst a massive social upheaval.
As Powell moves between subjective and objective experiences raising his children—depicted in their childhood innocence as imaginary anthropomorphic animals—he reveals the electrifying sense of trust and connection with neighbors and strangers in protest. He also explores how to equip young people with tools to best make their own noise as they grow up and help shape the direction and future of this country.
 

Genres: Graphic Novels, Nonfiction, Comics, Politics, Memoir, History, Parenting

160 pages, Hardcover

First published April 6, 2021

About the author

Nathan Lee Powell is an American cartoonist and musician.
Born in 1978 in Little Rock, Arkansas, Nate spent his childhood in different parts of the country, as his family moved around following his father's duties as an Air Force officer.
Powell became active in the punk rock scene since his teen age. He ended up performing in several bands over the years, and even owing a DIY punk record label. At the same time, he developed an interest in visual arts and majored in Cartooning at the School of Visual Arts (SVA) in New York.
For about ten years Powell worked as a care giver for adult with developmental disabilities, while also drawing comic books. His major break came with the graphic novel Swallow Me Whole, which won the Ignatz Award for Outstanding Debut and Outstanding Artist in 2008, as well as the Eisner Award for Best Original Graphic Novel in 2009. Between 2013 and 2016 Nate Powell released what remains his most famous work, the three volumes of March, a comic biography of civil rights activist and Congressman John Lewis.

Reviews

[Dave Schaafsma · Rating 4 out of 5]

"White middle aged baby boomers generally raised their kids with a sense of the inevitability of social progress, of a world gradually, casually becoming more just--a straight line from the defeat of Nazi Germany to civil rights figureheads single-handedly toppling segregation to following our own dreams with the help of a few student loans.

The starkest generational divide may be Boomers' general inability to process that the rules no longer apply--that we failed ourselves by our own faith in a functioning system."

Read Zedsdead's review. I was not ready to read this book when it came out and in some ways am still not ready. It's a kind of cultural history of 2016-2020, a lefty's guide to parenting in hope and protest and activism and standing against hate and fear. Many of us can relate to it, a kind of narrative essay of the shock of 2016 through the onset of Covid, kind of channelling the life of John L. Lewis, whose story he illustrates in March, which garnered for him the honor of being the first cartoonist to win the National Book Award.

Mike Baxter's professional review, in which you can see some of the images from the book:

https://www.fromcovertocover.com/the-...

[Alexander Peterhans · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don't need to tell you 2020 is a dumpster fire. You're reading this, I think it's safe to assume you're alive, you've been living through it (touch wood, 2020 is still going when I write this).



This comic memoir, about the last 4 or 5 years, has been quite confrontational - not because I didn't already pretty much agree politically with Powell, but because it has shown me how cynical 2020 has made me. At first read, I had a hard time reading the book, simply because it is very open and honest. There is little irony or sarcasm, which made me very uncomfortable. It quickly became clear this is written out of a need to not only put down on paper what has been happening, but moreso what we can and should do to change it.



When Trump gets elected in 2016, it came as a shock to Powell and his family, which consists (beside himself) of his wife and his young daughter. Powell draws his daughter as a little unicorn-girl, which is a sweet touch.

The book shows Powell wrestling with this political change, trying to define what has changed and how we got there. He spends as much time on preparing for protests, teaching his daughter that she has a right to protest. He implores the reader to not just be an online activist, but to actually take to the streets, even if you're on your own (that last one seems a tall ask, but that might just be me).



Then Covid-19 hits, and he keeps a diary on that change, how it mentally affects his family. It's especially hard for his daughter, who of course hasn't yet got the capacity to deal with this.

It's a beautifully drawn book, full of anger, but also just as full of hope. Use the anger as your driving energy, lose the cynicism: do something.



(Kindly received an ARC from Abrams through Edelweiss)

[Diz · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book collects a series of essays in comics form that discuss political issues in the United States over the past few years. The majority of the essays deal with discussing today's political climate with young children. The author illustrates this extremely difficult task by sharing his experiences with his young daughter. The experiences are both deeply personal and relatable.

[Rod Brown · Rating 4 out of 5]

An echo chamber read that really resonates. It's easy to recognize the despair, concerns, and anger at the 2016 election of Donald Trump, his presidency, and the social rupture that he represents. Of particular interest to big ol' comic fan me were the chapters on the Wonder Woman TV show, cosplay and the Punisher logo.

[Zedsdead · Rating 5 out of 5]

Seven essays by the writer of March on the post-2016 state of the world and the efficacy and urgency of protest.

1. Buttered Noodles
The author recalls the day after the 2016 election. How he felt, what it meant, how he tried to explain it to his daughter. Trading middle fingers with Trumpers in a car decorated with a call to imprison Hillary. The sudden preponderance of Confederate flags. Marching in protests. He reflects on the importance of continuing to march, year in and year out, of fighting numbness and apathy.

2. Promises
The author describes a conversation with their young daughter in early 2016, warning her that she'd hear a lot about a man in coming months. A mean man who lies a lot and bullies people. They warned that some people would act like that's normal, like it's okay, and that it wasn't and isn't. They assured her he couldn't win, though.

Powell captures something that I've described using slightly different language, a mindset that I explicitly held for most of my adulthood and had torn away in '16.

"A fatal error of both Generation X and the Boomers before us, our white middle-class outlooks shaped through a fairly stable social and political reality, our faith in mechanisms slowly pushing society forward, clearly an error of faith in a self-propelled moral arc of the universe."

3. Good Trouble, Bad Flags
The family Powell discusses historic injustice in terms that can be understood by his 4yo daughter. They watch footage of the Selma march, much of the violence perpetrated by police. Which enables a discussion of the difference between "legal" and "just".

He tries to explain the nature and importance of symbols (Confederate flags proliferated after Trump's election) and how complicated they can be. "Daddy, why is that man flying the bad flag next to the American flag? Isn't the American flag the good guys?"

4. Pecking Order
The author recounts a 2011 comic-con incident in which a fash-friendly edgelord cosplayer dressed up as a real 1940s Nazi commander, and his own hesitancy to confront the guy (he's just a basement dweller...what would confrontation accomplish anyway...). He considers the fact that as a straight white male he could comfortably afford to ignore the guy.

5. About Face
Powell recalls his fervent, GI Joe fueled childhood fascination with military structure and culture and peppering his veteran father with questions about his service. He ruminates on the "forever-war" aesthetics (modern servicemembers wear combat fatigues even for office work) and the move towards paramilitary styles (beards, hats, sunglasses, all of which hinder identification and thus accountability) and notes that Afghan villagers distinguished between shaven soldiers and the more violent bearded ones. He examines the repurposing of popular neutral symbols (eg the Punisher logo, the mohawk, and variations of the American flag) and their multiplying connections to a modern paramilitary protofascism.

6. Tornado Children
The COVID chapter. The trauma of isolation, of seeing his daughters' fear, of watching the country and its leadership rebel against common sense mitigation strategies. The death of his friend and hero John Lewis.

7. Wingnut
Here's the crux of it, the thesis of the book, and it describes me and my upbringing disturbingly well.

White middle aged baby boomers generally raised their kids with a sense of the inevitability of social progress, of a world gradually, casually becoming more just--a straight line from the defeat of Nazi Germany to civil rights figureheads single-handedly toppling segregation to following our own dreams with the help of a few student loans.

The starkest generational divide may be Boomers' general inability to process that the rules no longer apply--that we failed ourselves by our own faith in a functioning system.

Our two generations pay lip service to our grandparents' sacrifices fighting white supremacists overseas, while tripping over ourselves to gain distance from those who confront fascists at home. The voices and methods of fascism have changed, and we all must work to stop it.

Addressing the perceived uselessness of protesting fascists in a liberal college town:

The college town is America-in-microcosm: a diverse, interconnected cross section of neighbors treating each other decently, but also struggling with addiction epidemics and multigenerational cycles of poverty and lack of opportunity--abuse, mental illness, chronic health issues, food scarcity, homelessness, low wages--surrounded by a more conservative, racially homogenous population also working to treat each other decently...but with a narrower definition of "neighbor," willing to align with forces pushing the myth upon which their version of America depends.

[Raymond · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a powerful collection of seven essays in graphic novel format written and illustrated by Nate Powell who illustrated the March trilogy by the late Congressman John Lewis and Andrew Aydin. In Save It For Later Powell covers the importance of protests, beginning with the aftermath of the 2016 elections to the pandemic and the 2020 protests for racial justice and Black lives. Throughout the book he focuses on how he and his wife teach their daughters about racism, fascism, bullies, and the symbols that are used to promote the various -isms (i.e. Confederate and Nazi flags, the Punisher logo, etc.). John Lewis is a strong moral force in this collection. While the collection is pretty strong as whole, I found Chapter 3 (Good Trouble, Bad Flags) and Chapter 5 (About Face) to be the most powerful. Although, the topics in this collection are serious, the author knows how to put in moments of levity. There were a few laugh out loud moments on my part. It's not a long book but don't rush through it. Take it all in, internalize it, and determine what your response is to this work.

Thanks to Abrams ComicArts, Jessica Focht, and Nate Powell for a free ARC copy in exchange for an honest review.

[Keen Reader · Rating 5 out of 5]

“The seduction of relinquishing agency, of not having the burden of making one’s own choices, of conformity disguised as rebellion. The comforting oblivion of ‘Just following orders.’”

In one sense Powell seems to be burdening his young child with some pretty intense notions and ideas, but on the other hand growing up in a country that was built on racism and slavery and one which remains painfully divided along racial and political lines, you can see why he feels the need to inform and educate his children at such an early age.

“After year of warning signs dismissed, the brutal arrival of an unchecked virus underlines power’s callous indifference.”

Powell makes a point of repeatedly referencing the work of civil rights activist, John Lewis (who this book is dedicated to) including his quote, “When you see something that is not fair, that is not just, you have a moral obligation to stand up, to speak up and to speak out-to find a way to get in the way.”

“For racist white Americans still in the living memory of World War II, simply having an enemy was of utmost importance-even when they agree with that enemy’s position. Nationalist myth is the core of that belief system.”

He really delves into the toxic masculinity, racism and fascism of white supremacy, explaining the ways in which the likes of the Deaths Head have been appropriated by the right to mean something else, under the aegis of plausible deniability in relation to fascist symbology and behaviour, which often just becomes more “cool stuff to buy!”.

“I grew with a keen awareness of how and why nuanced personal expression is inherently at odds with maintaining control over human beings.”

This is a book that makes a lot of serious points about some serious issues, which are obviously heightened and ongoing in America, but whether we like it or not, to some extent they affect us all in some way. This is an articulate, informed and profound, socio-political examination of the roots and manifestations of extremism ripping throughout The US and gives plenty to think about it. I highly recommend it.

[Joy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was so excited to have the opportunity to get a first look at the newest work by the creator of March. The illustrations are as captivating and nuanced as one would expect. At times, truth and poignancy seem to be burned into the pages, and the autobiographical nature of this work, the fact that Powell is wrestling with issues in real time with his own family, creates an intimate tone. For me, the flaw is in the absolute didacticism that seems to overtake more emotional components. There is too much “telling” which doesn’t leave room for enough “showing.” It is unfortunate. I wanted to be swept away, and in the end I agreed with much of it, but have only a few episodes rather than the complete work about which to feel impassioned.

Thank you to Nate Powell, Abrams ComicArts, and NetGalley for an Advance Reader Copy in exchange for an honest review.

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

Thank you to the publisher for an ARC to review.

This one is a tough one to review. How do you review someone’s personal reflections of the Trump presidency and a global pandemic?

Ultimately, this book shines when Powell tells us his own history and how he is trying to parent in a tumultuous world.

Where this book drags is when Powell gives us a history lesson. I would have been fine with an entirely memoir approach, but this step into the history of white-supremicist symbols felt bogged down. And to be honest, the history student in me kept wanting citations for some of those facts.

The choice to depict his children as animals is BRILLIANT and the illustrations are wonderful.

Possible that this one feels too “echo chamber-y” to me, but still has an important message.

[Joanne · Rating 3 out of 5]

More on “good trouble” from Nate Powell. He explains the need for social justice and protest to his young daughter, as he speaks of the complicity older, white generations have, with the lessons of John Lewis firmly ingrained…learned from his great March trilogy, so the kid’s in good hands. Of course, speaking this much truth to your kids might ruffle some feathers, but as Powell promises, they can handle it.

If you’ve never been one to paint a protest sign and go out and march, this one might help change your tune.

Obviously committed, true-blue heartfelt art spilled all over the pages. I got confused a time or two, but this one is certainly an elevated and dedicated graphic piece overall.

[Matt Graupman · Rating 5 out of 5]

It’s not a secret that Nate Powell is my favorite cartoonist and that I think all of his comics, from his dreamy fiction work to his righteous nonfiction, is simply perfect. Well, his latest, “Save It For Later: Promises, Parenthood, And The Urgency Of Protest,” is no different. Over the course of seven thoughtful, melancholic essays, Powell considers the dismal state of the United States Of America after years of control by the Trump administration and how, as both a father and an activist, he struggles to instill in his children the proper balance of distrust for authority, inclusive morality, and spirited action. Sure, the book comes at a time when new, more humane leadership has taken over but the damage done by the former president in emboldening racists, fascists, and homophobes remains and so this book is still as vital as ever. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. famously stated “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice” but “Save It For Later” reminds us that it only does so when we’re vigilant about teaching our children to be better than we are.

On a aesthetic level, “Save It For Later” features some of Powell’s loosest, most intimate drawings and his panel where he watches with wide anime eyes as his daughter meets John Lewis is a soul-lifter if there ever was one (bonus points for his decision to stylize his daughters as childlike anthropomorphic creatures as a nod to their youthful innocence and imagination).

[Bandit · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’m mainly reading all these serious graphic novels, because of our library’s stubborn refusal to get the ones I’m more into. Which is to say my comic book tastes are more conventional, something to do with adventures, nontraditional superheroes and antiheroes, etc. Politics, especially modern American politics…not so much. But the art was great, so it attracted my attention.
I’ve heard of the author’s books about the late John Lewis, but never actually knew his name or read them. Seems like politics are his thing, with a heavy emphasis on activism, protesting, etc. This book is a collection of seven personal/biographical reflections of his from the recent past, starting from 2016 and chronicling the proceeding mess.
It’s all done from a very woke liberal perspective and seemingly meant for the same type of audience. I can’t imagine someone from the opposite end of the increasingly divided political spectrum checking out this book and changing their mind about some things. So this is very much along the lines of preaching to the choir and doing so from an increasingly desperate and terrified place. I wouldn’t say it’s hyperbolic, because it’s perfectly rational and any rational, reasonable, informed person can easily agree with a lot of it, but it is somewhat…hysterical? No, maybe apocalyptic?
It reminds me of John Oliver show, which I barely even watch anymore, because his rage and frustration (however righteous and justifiable) have become too distractingly present, turning his program into the angry liberal shouting show.
I suppose it’ll all just a reflection of the ugliness of American politics. Like their pundits, they are exhausting. For a solution this book advises protests. Of any size. In fact, the author has done a march of one, just walking around with handcrafted signs, presumably raising awareness. The other solution seems to be indoctrinating children into politics at a really early age. I’m not a parent, can’t even imagine bringing a kid into this world, so I can’t really speak to that except to say I don’t think I would want this for my kid, not at that age. But the author and his wife have two young girls and they’ve been politically educating them quite thoroughly, considering, all along. Which is…ok, I understand, it creates more aware citizens making more informed decisions from an early age, but also…shouldn’t the kids be spared some of that real world crap for a while? Who knows…breeding is a form of hubristic immortality and everyone wants to see themselves reflected in their kids, so why wouldn’t a political activist teach their kids to be politically active? Why not teach some democracy while you’re at it, who know how long that’s gonna be around for anyway?
So yeah, don’t think I’ve the right amount of optimism to appreciate this book. I’m not a marcher. I don’t think marches have been effective in decades. Outside of self reassurances gained from hanging out with likeminded individuals, it seems useless and dangerous. So no, I don't buy what he's selling, but...but…hedging bets…should there be in fact some value in it, this author will get you all hyped up to do it.
Some interesting food for thought here, parenting, politics, protesting, all of that. Some really great art. Definitely not for everyone, though, and that just cuts the legs right from under it in a way. Very well intentioned. Whether it is inspirational or not…that’s up to you entirely.

[Elizabeth Roberts-Zibbel · Rating 4 out of 5]

The agony of having told our daughters “when you wake up, we’ll have our first woman President…” was almost cathartic to re-live in the opening of Nate Powell’s graphic novel of parenting and grief in the age of Trump, George Floyd, and Covid. Nate, author of the “March” graphic novel series, also explores his emotions around the death of John Lewis.

Some of the background about black vehicles, the co-opting of the “Punisher” / death’s head logo, and military history was not quite as interesting to me, and I didn’t love the art and text style. However, much of this book hit home in the best way.

[Jessica Haider · Rating 4 out of 5]

Save it for Later is a collection of a handful of non-fiction comics by Nate Powell. Powell was the illustrator for John Lewis' graphic memoir series March: Book One. Like Lewis, Powell believes in the right of American's to march in order to fight oppression. In this collection, Powell shines a light on his family's personal experiences with Trump-era America. These experiences include anxiety over Trump winning the election, the surge in racist events, and the COVID lockdown. This was a powerful collection and I can see how Powell's passion of social justice has impacted his children who also want to march to make a difference.

Thank you to the publisher for the review copy.

[Edward Sullivan · Rating 4 out of 5]

In this graphic collection of seven intensely personal connected essays, Powell reflects upon living in a new era that compels him to engage in what he calls "necessary protest." As the father of a young daughter, Powell also explores how to equip young people with tools to best make their own noise as they grow up and help shape the direction and future of this country.

[Lisa]

I came to this collection having read the penultimate essay excerpted, and it was still by far the best, to me. I also appreciated the last essay. The essays before that felt less coherent to me, although they captured some of the raw emotion that already feels a bit distant post-pandemic, post-2016-2020. My kids are just younger enough compared to the author's that I didn't have quite the same heart-breaking experiences with them during those years (when he envies babies - that's where my kids mostly were during that time).

I wish the author didn't spend so much time with intergenerational fighting, although the author both addresses this and I understand the importance from the author's earlier work. The whole topic that he's tackling has aspects of moral certainty and also nuance that I can't blame the work for its complexity, but it's also a bit unsatisfying - which maybe is appropriate.

[Rocco Versaci · Rating 4 out of 5]

A collection of seven essays about the author’s life in a Midwestern college town amid all of the political turmoil following the 2016 election, the importance of protest, and the challenges of both fatherhood and Covid. Powell also illustrated the amazing “March” trilogy, and the section in this book about John Lewis’ passing is very moving. I won the ARC, which I’m reviewing here. It’s in black and white, while the actual book will be in color—a feature that will enhance much of this book, especially the part about the flag and how it’s been altered by our consumer culture.

[Thurston Hunger · Rating 1 out of 5]

I know we're on the same team and all, but I have a hard time high-fiving this.

At times it just feels like a flip-side of the dread us-and-them mentality, soaked in a tepid bath of brave-fear. I will read "Run" and have read at least one other Nate Powell book, but I just realized in writing this up that I did mix up Nate with Eric Powell (notably of The Goon comics) so that might have me expecting less quivering lip and more stiff but bloodied lips).

[Molly · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very powerful collection of essays from Nate Powell about the power of protest, particularly in our politically polarized climate.

[Peacegal · Rating 4 out of 5]

As the artist of the incredible civil rights history MARCH, as well as a personal friend of late Congressman John Lewis, Nate Powell was primed to spot the elements of racism and fascism in American society. Never well-hidden, these elements exploded into the mainstream with Trump’s candidacy and election.

LATER is a deeply personal graphic memoir as well as an of-the-moment recounting of how things went so wrong so quickly. Much of the content deals with Powell attempting to explain the world situation to his kids in a way that communicates importance without creating trauma. Children are smarter and more intuitive than we often acknowledge, and imparting even difficult information in a responsible way will ultimately help them much more than trying to shield them from every negative thing—which isn’t even possible, and actually ends up creating more fear and confusion. (But maintaining that balance is yet another thing I’m thankful I don’t have to deal with.)

The artist depicts his children as fantasy unicorn creatures, and while this may be a bit jarring at first in such a serious book, I completely get it. In the era of family vlogging, there is a pushback to allow children some privacy and autonomy over how their images and stories are used. Also, the characters allow readers to mentally relate their own kids, or their own younger selves, within the narratives.

Powell has a keen eye for his surroundings, including a pitch-perfect guide to the militaristic imagery and accessories the new right has adopted—from the co-opting of comics characters to the gradual evolution of the old jacked-up truck into the intimidating blacked-out vehicles of today. As if on cue, as I was reading this book one of my neighbors—whose home resembles a Trump flag sales kiosk—traded in his sports car for a pickup that looks like Darth Vader’s helmet on wheels. We see this stuff every day—but how often do we stop to ponder what it’s really signaling?

What the book doesn’t acknowledge, however, is that the Democrats as well as the Republicans have chosen corporate backers over their constituents and have left huge swaths of America out to dry. Is it not terribly surprising that so many latched on to a self-proclaimed outsider and rule-breaker who flattered them and served up plenty of targets to blame for their misery?

What I’m about to say next will probably cause some eye rolls, but I’m going to call it out anyway in the spirit of the line of text that, ironically enough, scrolls over the scene in question: I’ll always fight for her, and for others with limited voices, no matter what she chooses.

At one point we see the father and daughter eating burgers in a fast-food restaurant after a demonstration. Now, it's entirely possible they were eating plant-based sandwiches. However, since I feel this probably would have been mentioned in the text had they ordered something different from the norm, I'm going to assume they were eating animal products.

Factory farming is literally every bad thing--abuse of workers' rights in dirty and dangerous jobs, a greater contribution to climate change than the huge pickups the text complains about, antibiotic resistance, poorer public health, and of course, animal cruelty on such a scale that most people turn away from even looking at photos of industrial farming practices.

[And while I realize that some in our community don't have a say in what they eat and need to accept whatever food comes their way, that doesn't give those of us who are fortunate enough to have a choice free reign to participate in such a destructive system, any more than we should refrain from speaking out against injustice just because not all in our world have this option,]

Fighting the wrongs in our society means not just looking outward at the "bad guys"--it means looking at our own practices, even when it's difficult to do so. (Powell acknowledges this when he writes We can control our own actions. We must each make these choices for ourselves.) Factory farming is the direct embodiment of the attitudes this author speaks so passionately against--routine cruelty and disregard of anything other than oneself, the idea that "might makes right" and exploitation of the weak. If the most thoughtful among us can't even make this connection, what hope do we have for the rest of society?

The author is a caring and intelligent person who wants so badly to make a better future for his children. Intensive animal agriculture is a relic of the callous attitudes that should be something we want to leave behind. Even if one doesn’t wish to make factory farming their “cause,” one can still choose to withdraw their support of it while focusing their energy on other endeavors. After all, it's not an issue we have to wait for politicians to do something about--it's policy in which we have a direct say with every meal. As the text states: It’s a reminder that this is real…and only we can change the trajectory.

[Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have a lot of thoughts about this book. Mostly in that it somehow manages to be a pretty great look into a single decent human beings perspective of activism, inequality, education and societal norms while not completely eye roll inducing over it's depiction and explanation of modern day white nationalism, misinformation and commonly used right leaning iconography. Just think about how hard it is to make a book about BLM, Covid, Trump, White Nationalism, Authoritarianism and Activism without scaring off every centrist, right leaning or leftist with an ounce of self awareness. It's impressive, to tackle these subjects within a graphic novel without coming off as a pseduo intellectual echo chamber back pat is quite the feat.

From what I can tell this is a parent, an author, a political activist, a man surrounded by veterans and supposed heroes and someone who has breathed inequality from the side of privilege since he was young and always felt it to be wrong extrapolating any value he has learned from this experience back out onto us both through the lens of his children and through his own interpretation in the hopes of doing what he very much does on his own throughout his own life, plant seeds.

I of course agree with a lot of this book's political points, so it's an easy sell for me. But what I found impressive is it doesn't dwell too much into group think, it most certainly does not hold leftists feet to the flame as it so desperately needs to. While simultaneously labeling rebel flag wearers as "bad guys" Without losing the ultimate goal that is equality, empathy and personal freedom. It's bold enough to remind you, that yes, people do hide behind symbols, and aesthetics and that sometimes the truth within a person's character is hidden behind dog whistles and presumed good intentions.

The art in this book is gorgeous, Nate Powell does an incredible job, in particular with his use with black backgrounds and the choice and timing of color.

Overall, it's surprisingly good and by the end, very motivating. Hopefully a few apathetic and dormant idealists get a spark lit within them to go out and participate yet again and not let the cynicism eat away at what is a long and never ending battle.

[Shawna · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 rounded down. I imagine I might change my review soon and round it up.

I enjoyed this. Powell's work is visually beautiful and special in his intentional use of color and line that's always so meaningful and pointed.

Much of this book is a series of didactic comic essays about how individualist neoliberalism has shaped America for the worse (my words, not his). It paints a very polarized view on good guys vs. bad in the current American political climate.

Much of the book is contained in personal anecdotes Powell shares about raising a politically conscious family in the Trump era.

The comic essays and family anecdotes don't fit together seamlessly and I sit uneasy within it. The two elements are tied together through stories about actively teaching his children to see the dangerous way the world is politically coded, and also, teaching them peaceful and hopeful forms of protest.

If you are not deeply liberal and social justice oriented this book will make you uncomfortable. It's a very personal take on the political that gets a littlle.. it's hard for me to describe...

I worry a lot about the way this polical divide causes us to label each other uncharitably. I agree and sympathize with so much of Powell's arguments, but there's also a lot there that worries me about this line of protest.

I don't think you can read this book apoliticaly. It's valuable food for thought. I think it's heavy-handed, didactic and uneven at times. It's also beautifully illustrated and poignantly argued.

The forward and multiple anecdotes within the book beautifully and subtlety memorialize John Lewis. This book got me excited to read Powell's next collaboration with the late John Lewis.

[Jaimie · Rating 3 out of 5]

* Received as an ARC from the publisher

This graphic novel was an interesting read, but I didn't really feel like I connected with it on anything more than a superficial level. Being Canadian (even being as close as we are to the United States) I felt like I was just an observer to the events happening south of the border before/during/after the 2016 election, and even though I am fully aware that racism, bigotry, and (let's be honest) plain horrible individuals live everywhere the book didn't really hit any major notes for me. That being said, I appreciated Powell's lens of viewing the act of protest through the eyes of his children, and his themes around the challenges of growing up in this strange and interesting time. Is childhood as innocent now as it was for us growing up a generation ago? Maybe we had it easier, maybe things are "better" in many Canadian cities, or maybe we were just blissfully unaware until a slightly older age. I think for readers in different circumstances than mine (living in the U.S., having children, being more active in the protest sphere maybe) this book could potentially hit some poignant notes, but for me it wasn't much more than an observation of how a different segment of the population views the events of the last few years.

[Caffeinated Fae · Rating 3 out of 5]

3 Caffeinated Stars

When I saw Save It For Later up on NetGalley, I couldn't resist requesting it. 2020 was a complete dumpster fire, so I figured I could use a graphic novel that will help me commiserate. Maybe it's because we're still living through the history being made, but this book exhausted me a bit. We're dealing with so much trauma that adding a book that lists it all was a bit of a challenging read. However, the story/graphic form essays were well done and accurate from a more liberal standpoint. I could see this being a helpful book to read as a parent trying to explain the USA's divide.

My biggest issue with this book was the fact that the writing was hard to read at times. I'm hoping that this is because I was reading an ARC of the book, but the words would be pixelated anytime I tried to enlarge the page to read some of the smaller words.

All in all, this was a challenging book that could be useful for future generations. The graphics were well done, but I wish that the writing was easier to read.

[Ari Santillanes · Rating 4 out of 5]

Presented March trilogy, Run, and Silence of Our Friends to classes in mid-January. Shared my wondering about Nate Powell: does he ever get burnt out on leveraging his privilege to depict injustice of the Civil Rights era? This memoir answered my question, and I think the answer is no. What burns him out is what burns us all out: the forever fight for justice.

As a parent, I enjoy the double meaning of the title. “Save it for later” is something we have to think when our kids are young and we have to ask if/when is the appropriate time for certain truths and lessons. It is also something we think about our own actions and our activism, social and environmental. We want the world to be around for our children’s generation and there is a collective sense that we have to preserve what is good.

[Lindsey Lewis · Rating 3 out of 5]

Save It For Later is a graphic memoir of essays that address how we teach our children about injustice, inequity, and all the other things messed up about the world we are raising them in. It is written by Nate Powell, the artist who worked on March, and about his experiences as a white man learning about institutional racism. It starts with the 2016 election of Donald Trump and moves both forward to the COVID pandemic and backward to the author's childhood, covering topics like how the alt-right have adopted paramilitary aesthetics as a dogwhistle to their cause, to the death of John Lewis, to the anxiety of witnessing a world that might be changing for the worst instead of better. I feel like the April release date is an interesting choice, we will be living in an entirely different world by then (one can hope), and I bet Nate Powell had some poignant things to say about the Capitol insurrection that didn't get to make it into the book.

Some of the dialogue with his daughter felt forced and awkward (and perhaps not the most age-appropriate), and I didn't really understand the artistic decision to make his daughter into a unicorn, but the book is still an important call to action that white Americans acknowledge our privilege and not be afraid to confront our own biases (in fact, Nate argues, we should welcome those confrontations as opportunities to learn and grow). I would typically prefer to read texts like this from voices of color, but I do think Nate is able to offer the perspective of being a white ally with the rare self-aware understanding that one day, he hopes to be able to raise his children well enough that the next generation will be even more progressive and be able to call him out on things (and the goal to listen and change rather than wallow in defensiveness or fragility when that time comes).

Note: I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley. I was not compensated in any other fashion for the review and the opinions reflected below are entirely my own. Special thanks to the publisher and author for providing the copy.

[R.J. Sorrento · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a creative visual collection of comic essays on life after Trump’s election and during the pandemic. It’s a liberal white man’s perspective and he shares his history of protesting and his collaborative creative work with the late, great John Lewis.

I really liked the visual style but I found the choice to make his children look like unicorns a bit distracting.

Aside from that this is a creative take on volatile times. I truly appreciated the inspiration to not just be a “retweeter” or an “armchair resister.” This book makes me want to continue to take action for justice and equality.

Thank you to Abrams and Hachette Book Group for the ARC.

[Rick · Rating 4 out of 5]

An excellent look at the tumultuous, divided society in which we live. It is personal and moving and deeply disturbing, but it is also a joy to read and acknowledges that even though tRump “won” the election in 2016, he NEVER truly had the popular vote (just like GW Bush before him). That even though the Republican Party has gerrymandered the hell out this country, and are now trying make it increasingly difficult to vote (remember this is the party that wants to abolish the Constitutional Amendments so that ONLY rich, white men can vote and run for office), they are a party that has no real conception of how their policies are destroying the very country the process to love.

[Kara Nevle · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is one of the more difficult books I’ve read this year. It’s definitely written by a liberal man for a liberal audience. It’s both a call to activism and ruminations on parenthood during an increasingly polarized period. He questions how his generation will be remembered and how his generation may be remembered in its successes and failures.
Throughout the essays he acknowledges his privilege in having the choice to explain these things to his children and in his own childhood with how his parents explained these things.