Comic Review – Home (TPB)

Image Comics

Writer: Julio Anta

Artist: Anna Wieszczyk, Bryan Valenza

Letterer: Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou

Home is a five issue mini-series written by Julion Anta, his comic debut, with art from Anna Wieszczyk. It follows the journey of young Juan Gomez and his mother, Mercedes, who are fleeing gang violence in Guatemala to seek asylum in the United States. Unfortunately, America’s now infamous “no tolerance” policy is installed during their journey, greatly complicating the already arduous ordeal.

It’s difficult to find the words to describe Home. A personal narrative for Anta, it’s a brutal, unfair story beautifully told and illustrated–but one that couldn’t exist in a better world, at least not so firmly in reality. Along with movies like Room and Grave of the Fireflies, “Home” is a story I’m glad to have experienced but not eager to revisit.

At one point, an ICE officer describes gentle, lovable Juan thusly: “He may look harmless, but this child is a serious threat to the security of our country.” This line elegantly sums up all of the absurd fear-mongering associated with the former administration’s family separation policies. It’s both cruel and laughable, reminiscent of the Starship Troopers global government’s declaration that a non-space faring culture on the opposite side of the galaxy “must be eliminated” to “ensure the safety of our solar system.”

More relevantly, it reminded me of the three pillars of Mitt Romney’s 2012 campaign, one of which was gay marriage. Romney described gay marriage as a threat to the very fabric of our nation. Stunned, I could not fathom less of a threat to the fabric of our nation than.. you know.. love.

I felt the same watching Juan and Mercedes’ needless suffering at the hands of ICE. While some readers might fight the book’s antagonists two dimensional, here’s a sad reminder that ICE exists in three dimensions. They are real, this is what they do. Another reminder comes later in “Home,” when Juan gives in to the simplest temptations of youth. He goes outside, makes friends, plays soccer–actions that nearly result in his death. “Home” offers hope at times, but mostly deals in reality which, we know, sucks.

Home is also a superhero book of sorts. That said, there’s little world building or explanation of powers. Instead, both the book and its characters use the superhero archetype to pose a series of interesting, often painful questions.

Juan wants to know how the other kids, the ones without super powers, will escape ICE holding. The unspoken answer: they can’t. (That said, it was deeply satisfying to see a Central American superhero inside an ICE holding facility, however briefly–I could have done with a lot more Ryan Ottley red in those scenes, if you catch my drift.. oh, and can we get a Juan/Red Locust crossover?!)

While “Home” touches on far more important topics, it also raises questions regarding the modern superhero genre, namely: when, if ever, will heroes take on the actual evil in this world? Every week on Last Week Tonight John Oliver details some new homegrown horror or overseas despot, then Peter Parker and Carol Danvers head off to stop a guy on stilts from robbing a bank. Hey superheroes–an estimated 4.6 million American workers are victims of wage theft every year, just saying!

That said, one of the book’s problems is its inability to more fully explore either of its avenues: the migrant family drama and the superhero origin. After grappling with anger and fear, Juan is excited to have the agency to push back. He’s talked out out of violence in a panel or two. If the series continues, I imagine this dilemma would be the central conceit.

Similarly, the “silent” opening pages of Issue #1 are effortlessly heartbreaking. So are the scenes depicting the awful border processing procedures/environments, thanks in park to Wieszcyk’s cold, bare illustrations. There are less opportunities for these affecting introspections as we race to a super-powered climax.

In terms of art, Wieszczyk brings an almost “refined picture book” quality to characters. Faces are gentle and stylized, yet easily convey deep pain and loss. Layouts are straightforward but nuanced enough to keep eyes on the page. An early panel of Juan sleeping in the forest in Issue #2 is a personal favorite.

Home ends in a mostly satisfactory way, though it’s less a limited series as advertised: you’ll feel more like you did at the end of Denis Villeneuve’s Dune than you did after reading WE3 (though, you should be relatively miserable after each).