Craig Thompson’s Habibi

Craig Thompson’s Habibi is an exquisite journey into the heart of love, of religion, and of the self. It is the story of Dodola and Zam, two orphaned children against the world – against starvation, violence, slavery, and worse. But their dedication to one another and the transformative power of spirituality and stories keeps them afloat in what is poised to be one of the definitive and visionary graphic novels of this decade (if not the genre).

What I had been most excited about ever since I heard about the book was how Thompson was going to explore Islamic themes and concepts. I was blown away by how fluently he has woven Islam and the beauty of the Qu’ran into his work. I felt like a little girl again hearing all these myths and stories for the first time. The way Thompson weaves the tales into the narrative – via Dodola, a wonderful storyteller and imaginative heroine who tries to give Zam a moral upbringing – makes it simple to follow, and easy to see the strong connection among the Abrahamic religions. Origins of symbols like the Hand of Fatima (or Miriam, or Mary), the story of Noah, Adam and the angels give a depth to Zam and Dodola’s story that bring the scale of Thompson’s work to epic. Yet at the same time Thompson’s simpler tendencies and signature cartoony style still pops in in here and there (such as his depictions of the angels, which I loved) as a fine contrast to the other sumptuous drawings.

Craig Thompson’s line work is instantly recognizable and he has transitioned his style to capture and accentuate both the flowing elegance of calligraphic craftsmanship and rigid grandeur of Islamic geometric designs. His moving and evocative page layouts are a wonder to behold, and are perfectly placed within chapter headers and as the backbone of many of the illuminated stories-within-the-story. Zam and Dodola, are classically beautiful in their childlike innocence when we first meet them. Even as they grow into mature adults inevitably hardened by the harshness of their world, because of the deftness and clarity of Thompson’s style, their aging looks natural and organic. I found myself totally entranced by every page, staring at things like rugs and tables and staircases – there was nothing that was not a feast to my eyes.

The biggest risk and best visual decision made in the entire book is the segment where Zam is contemplating the nature and purpose of his existence and potential suicide – the pages are stark white, black text inside black boxes, with nary a flourish in sight. It really puts the writing and Zam’s narrative voice, as well as the religious and spiritual lessons and consequences, to the forefront. The inner struggle with oneself- here we find that the word jihad is used succinctly and accurately in its primary definition – is fully realized and dealt with. Whereas I felt that Dodola’s journey was quite visual, especially her inner contemplations over the changes her body goes through for one reason or another, taking Zam’s climactic scene and stripping away everything really shows you how fine of a writer Thompson is, and how carefully he decides to juxtapose the characters’ development (and can pull it off).

The title of the book, Habibi, while meaning “beloved” in Arabic, is technically meant for a male object of affection, presumably Zam. Dodola’s love for him never falters, and vice versa, and the way in which the two have to acclimate their love for one another over the course of the changes they go through both physically and emotionally is one of the most subtle and poignant successes of Thompson’s book. A pronounced symmetry plays out when Dodola cares for Zam in the beginning by washing him and the favor is returned years later when Dodola falls ill and Zam keeps her going by constant washing (wudu, Muslim ablution, usually in preparation for prayers). Water is a significant motif of the book. It is powerful, essential, and evolving, just like the two other major motifs of the novel, the role of stories/symbols and the changing but indefatigable nature of love itself. Even if you don’t know much about the Middle East, the universality of these ideas is enough to attract and hold one’s attention. And attention is just what Thompson’s book deserves.