does fiction REALLY need more brown terrorist narratives written by white people? No

Let's also not forget that terrorists in America nowadays looks like a repressed angry white men

I unfortunately was unable to read this book before it was archived. But I look forward to grabbing a copy.

This is not at all a bad book, I’m just not sure that it’s right for our audience, at least not on its own. As quite a short book but aimed at an older audience, w3 often find these a tough sell. Having said that I thought the message included was an important one and the way the story unfolded was very evocative and interesting. So whilst I’m not convinced it’s for us I would recommend it to others.

A touching story, beautifully illustrated, but the pragmatist in me worries it's just lovely hopes. I guess art is the first step toward making that hope reality.

I really love Dave McKean's art, so I was excited to see this appear on NetGalley. I also appreciated Jack Gantos's words about libraries and literacy.

However, both Gantos and McKean are white dudes without much background in the Muslim culture they are writing about, and that's a problem. (See G. Willow Wilson's commentary on Twitter if you are interested to learn more).

If stopping suicide bombers were as simple as getting them to experience and appreciate libraries and literacy, I think we'd all be having a much easier time of it.

Oh my god.

See - this is what privilege does. When you’re privileged, you don’t tend to see through the eyes of other people. You don’t need to.

I read this last night an didn’t put together how problematic it was.

I liked the story. It was short, but intense.

Through powerful art and powerful words, this story shows how knowledge is power.

Or as the author states:

<i>Literacy for all is freedom for all.</i>

And this is so true: <i>Only a grown man can will himself not to think.</i>

But, since knowledge is power, doing a little reading and a little research can server to open your eyes.

And it’s not about “groupthink”. It’s not about “the SWJs telling me what to believe”.

It’s about thinking critically about what you read, what you hear, and what you see.

I can see that the two white men who put this book together, like me, didn’t think about the ramifications of increasing Islamophobia. They didn’t think about the stereotyping of brown people.

It’s easy for those of us who are privileged to see a story like this and get behind the literacy of it all, and not think about it much deeper than that.

But when dealing with my privilege, I’ve learned that I need to err on the side of caution and make the attempt to understand how other people perceive, and are perceived. When there’s the possibility of forwarding racist stereotypes, we can’t just throw caution to the wind.

I think the authors and the publisher made the right decision in pulling this book. But I’m also glad I was able to take a look at it first hand.

You can take a look at the backlash on-line - just Google it. And G. Willow Wilson has an amazing thread about it on Twitter.

<i>Thanks to NetGalley and Abrams ComicArts for a copy in return for an honest review.</i>

A good story, skillfully done with moving text and Dave McKean's usual brilliantly evocative art... with poor timing and a lot of tone-deafness.

I see what they were going for, of course. A boy steeped in a small, extreme part of his society that advocates violence as an effective tool is sent to a library to blow it up, and instead after observing the people around him as people and not targets, and books as good and welcome things, he chooses peace.

The backlash was about two white men crafting a story about a brown Muslim terrorist at a time when most of the recent terrorist attacks in the western world have been from angry white people. The original story, from 2016, was part of an Amnesty International anthology and as part of a whole I think it probably works well. But pulled out by itself and published two years later it's already showing its age.

I understand the publisher opted to pull it. I appreciate what they were going for, but perhaps they should have addressed the terroristic impulses of people who look like themselves. How much more powerful that would have been.

Given that the book's been pulled from publication, I'm not sure it's worth my time to write an in-depth review. Suffice it to say that, while I appreciate the artists' intentions, the result falls far short.

While I was attracted by the artist behind the work and the setting of a library, the content proved problematic. There were many facets that proved that this work had issues in conception, from specifics of story and depiction of Muslim characters, and execution, continuing the depiction of Muslim characters, that were offensive.

Hearing about its being pulled from publication feels like the right decision, though I'm not sure full responsibility is being taken. The announcement felt hollow, a sense of blame being laid at the feet of those being hurt rather than those causing the hurt by the creation of A Suicide Bomber Sits in the Library.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for allowing me to read this novel in exchange for an honest review.

Stunned silence. I sit in stunned silence.
My initial response was to close this book after the first pages.
But, I kept turning.
And found insight.
I found humanity.
Through the written word and drawings you will find hope.

(And..when someone asks you why we need libraries...you can hand them this book.)

Like everyone else, I saw the backlash on social media, so I was pretty surprised that my request was approved amidst all of the criticism.

This is two white men writing about something they don't know anything about - they have no expertise talking about the Middle East and using the racist stereotyping of Muslims as terrorists is not only lazy but harmful. I am not Muslim and there are many others who have made better comments than I can regarding the topic - I wanted to note that, having read the ARC, it takes place in a generic unnamed Middle Eastern country, which really digs deep into the stereotyping. It follows a young boy, who is a suicide bomber, sitting in a library and learning about how books can change your life and deciding to not be a suicide bomber.

The part I wanted to highlight was that I've worked as a librarian for almost five years - and while I know "books on books" is a popular genre, I'm sick of the constant story about how reading changes your life. Any number of things can change your life, and the authors use that trope here to dig their boots into their racist story. They excuse their racism by showing how the "uneducated" brown people can be redeemed through reading - something bibliophiles might be willing to agree with had the xenophobia not been so apparent.

Definitely would not recommend in any situation, and kind of hoping this never gets published officially. It takes a tired media trope to reinforce harmful stereotypes - so in a way, it's kind of not surprising that white people let it get this far.

Powerful book. I think it gives a great perspective on a culture we are not familiar with. I hope it impacts others the way it did for me.

I was surprised by this one. A beautiful ode to not just the Libraries that inspire but literacy as a whole. The power that books have to transform you, how it only takes a exposure, and they change you! This book is beautiful, both the illustrations and the soul of the book! Thanks so much for the opportunity, I think my teens would be moved by this!

With such an eye catching title, I couldn't not read this latest enterprise by Jack Gantos. I went in with mild trepidation, worrying about the potential for othering or stereotyping of another culture, but found a thoughtful examination into a small, intense moment. A meditation on the power of access to public libraries.

Books and libraries are full of ideas and viewpoints. So, the idea of a young suicide bomber awaiting a call with his mission target, only able to quietly observe the comings and goings to a public library, is at once fascinating and appalling. This is a powerful short story that was originally part of an Amnesty International collection. It was inspired in part by the idea that forced ignorance strengthened the bonds of slavery, with the belief that “Literacy for all is freedom for all”. Dave McKean’s artwork is a tremendous and powerful addition emphasizing the emotions and urgency as well as providing unique and fascinating details—like the mosaic tables in the library and the layering in the street scenes. It’s a really wonderful collaboration. Like Hosseini’s Sea Prayer this is another small story that I would love to get into everyone’s hands.

This book gave me chills, and I could only read a little bit of it at a time. It isn't a long book by any means. It can be read in less than an hour if you sit down to read it. However, it gave me such strong feelings that I had to stop and re-center myself before reading again. It is beautiful, and it is heartbreaking. And it shows yet again how important the ability to read truly is. I highly recommend it to just about anyone.

Jack Gantos is a young adult writer who was asked to produce a short story for an Amnesty International collection. The resulting story was the basis for this graphic novel.

The premise is simple. A teenager is sitting in a library in an explosive vest waiting for the call to action. He tries to shut out the joy that others in the library are getting from the books, but cannot quite manage to do so. Thus we see the transformative power of books.

The story itself is simple; the book is short. Mostly, it is set out in one large collage spread over two pages with a small amount of narrative text in one margin. It is maybe a ten minute read.

The joy, though, is in the illustrations. Black and white, mixing sketches with what appears to be cut and glue pictures and illustrations from elsewhere. The resulting images are striking and rich with detail. They have vignettes set within bigger pictures and do more than simply illustrate the story - if anything, the words illustrate the pictures. The depiction of middle eastern cityscapes is magical - and the later depiction of what appears to be Oxford provides a great contrast. The facial expressions are marvellous - the anger on our suicide bomber's face lifts straight off the page.

This graphic novel is an absolute joy, even if its message may be a little bit twee (writers seldom underestimate the power of books!) and the experience is over almost as soon as it begins.

A very powerful story made even more so by such beautiful illustrations. Highly recommended especially for McKean fans.

I loved this idea. Great story and the artwork works very well with the theme of this graphic novel.

This is a simply told, but hauntingly illustrated story about the power of books and the importance of libraries.