Book Review: "Good Talk" by Mira Jacobs
Synopsis: “How brown is too brown?” “Can Indians be racist?” “What does real love between really different people look like?”
Like many six-year-olds, Mira Jacob’s half-Jewish, half-Indian son, Z, has questions about everything. At first they are innocuous enough, but as tensions from the 2016 election spread from the media into his own family, they become much, much more complicated. Trying to answer him honestly, Mira has to think back to where she’s gotten her own answers: her most formative conversations about race, color, sexuality, and, of course, love.
Written with humor and vulnerability, this deeply relatable graphic memoir is a love letter to the art of conversation—and to the hope that hovers in our most difficult questions.
Rating: 4.5
Trigger warnings: Mentions of systemic racism and sexism, Donald Trump’s election to the presidency
Review: I’m the first to admit that Bookstagram made me read this book. I saw it everywhere last fall, and I finally got my hands on a copy during the first few weeks of quarantine. I put off reading it because I genuinely don’t think of myself as a graphic-novel-person, but after staring at it for a few weeks, I picked it up; almost immediately, I regretted not reading it sooner. It’s an amazing memoir, and the medium really aids the story.
Mira Jacob is a first-generation American; her parents immigrated from India, but she grew up in the American West. She’s not that much older than I am, so many of the experiences that shaped her life, I also lived through. I really enjoyed the story structure here: Mira and her husband have a son, Z, who is asking his mom questions about life in 2015/2016, as we are barreling towards the Trump election; those questions prompt her to go back in her memories, and remember the conversations that made her the person she is today.
Mira doesn’t mince words or color over rough experiences — as a white woman, I found myself squirming at many of the memories she recalled for this book. However, I love being forced out of my comfort zone, and this book did so in such a poignant and funny way. Mira is a charming narrator, and she’s frank about the good and bad experiences of her life, including fighting with her husband and family over rough issues, and Z, our erstwhile questioner, is absolutely adorable.
At the heart of everything is the power of family and love — it’s an uplifting story, at it’s core — and I feel like I know her. I might even recognize her on the street if I am ever able to leave the District of Columbia, given the visual nature of her story. I also feel like I have a better grasp on the first-generation American experience (not in a Jeanine Crimmins way, just in a “wow, I had never considered that” way); so much of her life has been impacted by being visually “other” and in telling her story, she weaves a candid story about race in the United States that is so necessary.
Admittedly, reading a story that centered on the horror at what Donald Trump might do in the White House while sheltering-in-place in the midst of a global pandemic was a bit of a mindf*ck. When he was elected, I had the same dread in my heart that Mira did — for totally different reasons — but I couldn’t ever have imagined this outcome. Consider that my warning on this, though.
TL;DR: An amazing look at being "other” in America, told through the lens of the 2016 election. Don’t let that it’s a graphic novel turn you off — trust me.
If You Liked This, Try These:
“Trick Mirror” by Jia Tolentino (Shannon’s review here!)
“Good and Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Women’s Anger” by Rebecca Traister
If you click on one of the links in this article and make a purchase, She’s Full of Lit may receive a small commission. It doesn’t add anything to your price — we promise! Thanks so much for your support.
