Review by Frank Plowright
Hardly anyone attends the funeral of Rocio’s grandmother Vilma, but a chance remark from one of them prompts Ro’s journey of discovery, piecing together her memories with discoveries to provide a chronology of the woman whose house she’s been bequeathed. The resulting generational saga moves from Italy early in the 20th century to Argentina in the present, contrasted by Ro’s first experience of living anywhere other than the family home.
At over three hundred pages Mothballs is a weighty graphic novel, occasioned by Sole Otero being an extremely leisurely storyteller, sometimes burying what counts in pages of everyday activity. Over her life Vilma becomes a fractious and isolated figure, and the reasons for this are strong and shocking, yet reaching them is a long and winding road where much of what’s presented isn’t required for the core issues that follow. It’s a shame, as once Otero reaches the drama there’s a real feeling for the cast.
Yet, neither is the art greatly fulfilling, although credit is due for avoiding the obvious. Otero’s simple expressionistic figures have smallish heads on inflated bodies with little depth to flat scenes coloured eccentrically. Vivid pink is a favourite, with a limited selection of other colours as accompaniment, while stylised splodges of pink feature under eyes. Scratchboard variations indicating dreams or the possibility of the supernatural are more appealing, but overall it’s a fine art approach that isn’t going to be to all tastes.
Mothballs is stronger when looking at the expectations of a byegone era, both conformity with the times and with the strictures of the Catholic church. Vilma knows from an early age that her brother Antonio is gay, letting him wear her dresses, when she reaches her teens schisms erupt due to her father’s drinking, and her attitudes of a woman’s role differ greatly from Ro’s. The impositions of society make for powerful staging points, with Vilma’s mother prioritising how others view the family over her daughter’s feelings and health.
Ro’s second person narrative pieces together Vilma’s experiences via recollection and she sifts through the contradictions. What develops is an understanding of a person with principles, hardly major expectations, constantly let down by those close to her. However, Ro’s own present day experiences are nowhere near as interesting. In fact they drag Mothballs down as she cleans the house, suffers from an infestation of fleas and argues with her mother over the phone. These interludes are used to punctuate the emotional tension of Vilma’s life, and there’s eventually a drawing together of past and present as lessons are learned, but too much is just passing time.
Anyone who likes the look of the sample art, and can overlook the padding is rewarded with Vilma’s story, which is an epic, but one that could have been better told.
