Review by Ian Keogh

Bong Redila was born in the Philippines, lived in Guam, and now works in Florida, and the multicultural perspectives of that background are apparent in this collection of short stories all set in a mythical city. Memories of childhood are reformatted via an adult perspective, but crucially without ever losing a childlike sense of wonder. The experiences are cleverly presented so that what seems extraordinary to readers is everyday for the protagonists. There’s the eccentric inclusion of someone riding a penny farthing bicycle in the hills; a blind girl imagines someone talking to her as a balloon shaped cloud and trains that take flight.

As far as possible Redila presents wordless stories, and in some cases builds a rod for his back in doing so. ‘Wish’ shows poor young children waking up and having a frugal breakfast before searching around the local landfill tip. Redila’s charming cartooning almost prevents consideration of how tragic this is, but there’s a magical moment and an ending that perfectly sums up childhood aspirations. Endearingly Redila explains his influences after each story, but the full emotional impact of ‘Wish’ isn’t clarified until Redila relates the memory prompting the story. Other post-story recollections are equally enlightening and anecdotal, but complement the preceding strip rather than explain it.

There’s no indication that the stories are presented chronologically, and an enviable delicate line is the primary artistic distinguishing feature as Redila switches styles. He proves accomplished whether or not he’s using shading and whether the stories are fantasy based or lodged in a recognisable world. The strongest characteristic, though, is the way so many possess an unexpected emotional moment, something that can range from melancholy to euphoric. That’s accompanied by a cheerful optimism. When invited to contribute a two page strip to an anthology with the future as a theme, Redila’s story is of children playing happily in the park accompanied by alien friends.

Meläg is a place to visit and experience. Deeply personal in places, such as Redila adapting a poem his father wrote, and always unexpected, it’s a collection to cherish.