From the Root to the Strange Fruit - A Review of Kindred, written by Octavia E. Butler, adapted by Damian Duffy and John Jennings

Written by O’Brian Gunn

Cover for Kindred adaptation.

One of my least favorite tropes is time travel, and one of my least favorite narratives is the slave narrative. Surely putting the two together would make me seize with cringing, right? In Octavia E. Butler’s case, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Originally published in 1979, Butler’s sci-fi novel Kindred is the story of Dana, a woman from 1976 who’s dragged back in time to a plantation in pre-Civil War Maryland. Finding herself labeled a slave, Dana has little choice but to accept being someone else’s property while figuring out how to get back to her time and navigating how to stay alive.

Because I haven’t (yet) read the original novel, I can’t say how good of a job Damian Duffy and John Jennings did in adapting Butler’s work. That said, I have read Butler’s Wild Seed, and the graphic novel adaptation of Kindred most certainly carries Butler’s storytelling style. What makes the adaptation so engrossing is that while it has the commonly used/abused time travel plot device, it centrally focuses on a black woman traveling back in time, which is rare. While there are plenty of slave stories available for public consumption/exploitation, few of them bring modern characters into the narrative.

Misadventures in time travel.

When Dana first time-travels, she saves a young boy named Rufus from drowning before rubberbanding back to her time. When it happens again, she stays in the past longer, and Rufus is a bit older. It becomes apparent to the both of them that Rufus being in danger pulls Dana into the past, and Dana fearing for her life pushes her back into her time. Between trips back and forth, Dana has to pretend (although the lines eventually blur between “pretend” and “actuality”) to be a slave and put the pieces together about Rufus’ identity and the reason they’re linked.

It’s quite a painful and humiliating adjustment for Dana to fit in on a slave plantation. Besides being perceived as little more than chattel and a domestic beast of burden, Dana also has no choice but to endure the psychological trauma of acting as a slave. Besides casually and incessantly being called the n-word, Dana is subjected to casual physical violence for the smallest of “slights.” There’s also the ever-looming threat of sexual violence, which adds another serrated facet of psychological trauma for slave women. While Dana’s husband (Kevin) joins her for some of her trips back to Maryland, he has no choice but to act as her owner rather than her husband. As much as Kevin wants to protect his wife from the brutality of slavery, the best thing he can do is play his part as a white slave owner.

History brought to brutal life.

One of the greatest strengths of Kindred is the precarious balance it finds between the influence Dana represents to Rufus (he depends on her to nurse him back to health and convince a slave woman to submit to his “charms”), and the authority Rufus lords over Dana (she depends on him to send letters to Kevin and keep her from being sold and physically beat...or worse). They both need each other if either of them is to survive, and yet they both harbor a deep animosity for the other. It’s a sick symbiotic relationship not often witnessed in slave narratives. As for the graphic novel’s shortcomings, the only one I had was that in some places, I felt the story was told out of sequence; things would happen without an explanation as to what led to a specific point in the narrative. Most of the time, I could (mostly...I think) fill in the blanks on my own, but it was still a bit jarring. 

Jenning’s illustrations do a great job of capturing the terror, strength, occasional tenderness and sorrow woven within Butler’s story. Rather than drawing Dana’s present in color and the past in black and white, Jenning’s instead reverses that, allowing us to see how from Dana’s perspective, the past is more vivid than her present. Jenning’s attention to detail regarding Dana’s appearance at the beginning of the story compared to the end demonstrates just how harrowing the ordeal is.

History within history

The graphic adaptation of Kindred isn’t an easy read, but it’s one that makes it easy to understand why Butler’s novel is a celebrated classic. Even though I know the major beats of the story, I’ll still check out the book. I’m still not a fan of time travel stories or slave narratives, nor am I more willing to read/watch content that blends the two. What I will say is that reading Kindred makes me look forward to checking out Duffy and Jenning’s adaptation of Butler’s Parable of the Sower. The three perfectly display the artistic beauty and nuance that can result when you carefully blend the past with the present.


Page length: 255 pgs.

Recommend Buy New, Used or Skip: Buy new (or, as always, check for an e-book version at your local library)


Movie poster for Brown Girl Begins.

Up Next: Brown Girl Begins, a sci-fi film directed by Sharon Lewis and inspired by author Nalo Hopkinson’s Brown Girl in the Ring, is the story of a young girl named Ti-Jeanne wrestling with her fear of dying in the footsteps of her mother and tapping into the power of Caribbean spirits to save her people in 2049 post-apocalyptic Toronto.

The Story Bone’s Connected to the Fone Bone - A Review of Bone, Written and Illustrated by Jeff Smith

Written by O’Brian Gunn

Cover for Bone: The Complete Cartoon Epic.

When life gets a bit too real, a bit too complicated and confusing - it’s nice to dive into a narrative aimed at a younger audience, but still makes for an entertaining way to engage your imagination. Jeff Smith’s Bone: The Complete Cartoon Epic offers just such an escape, one with a surprising amount of depth (and not just for the thickness of the complete story collection - which clocks in at 1,332 pages). While it took me some time to work my way through the entire fable, it’s a ride I’m glad I wasn’t too tall for.

Upon first glance, while thumbing through the pages of Bone, it’s clear the story is aimed at younger audiences. The art style is reminiscent of Disney’s early animated movies, and the main characters, Fone Bone, Phoney Bone, and Smiley Bone, have an undeniable cartoonish appearance. The simple approach to storytelling further cements the target audience, but as the story deepens, it becomes apparent that Jeff imbued the tale with more adult-oriented themes that readers of all ages can easily identify.

Encountering the rat creatures.

Bone kicks off with Fone, Smiley, and Phoney wandering the desert after being cast out of their hometown of Boneville (after Phoney attempted to cheat the townspeople). The trio becomes separated, but one by one they find each other in a forest valley, one populated by rat creatures, rustic townspeople, dragons, talking animals, war, and destiny. From there, the Bones do what they can to stay alive, help their newfound friends, stand against a darkness they never knew existed, and find their way back home.

I enjoyed how Smith injected some light philosophy and psychology about authority, responsibility, heroism, and identity. It all serves as a solid foundation for deeper exploration for young readers. Bone may very well do for adolescent readers what books did for me when I was younger: Ignite an ever-burning curiosity and passion for the inner workings and nuances of people as individuals and as various societies. Thankfully, Smith doesn’t throttle the reader or burden the narrative with preachiness or pretentiousness, which some adult narratives could learn from. This may be another reason that young adult novels are so popular right now, because adult readers have grown exhausted seeing their real-life struggles, complexities, and confusion not just reflected, but magnified in their movies, books, TV shows, and the like.

Gran’ma Ben in action.

On a related note, Bone also makes for a great “beginner epic.” Younger readers may not quite be ready for intellectually meatier classics such as Moby Dick, War and Peace, or The Odyssey (some older readers may not be ready for those stories, either), but slowly working their way through a story like Bone helps set a proper framework. It took me a while to work through the collection, but the storyline was simple enough that I didn’t have too much trouble remembering what was going on.

Another aspect of Bone that I enjoyed was the fact that the Bone cousins were essentially supporting characters in the story at large rather than main characters. The narrative lens is most certainly tightly focused on the three, but Fone, Smiley, and Phoney are not the heroes of this fable, and I don’t think that’s a spoiler to say so. The three cousins are more concerned with surviving and helping Thorn, Gran’ma Ben, and the rest of the townspeople against Kingdok and his army of rat creatures and anything else that besets them. These guys are the definition of “stay in your lane.”

Use of light and shadow.

There’s some great mythology and worldbuilding to enjoy in this story, a level of which surprised me at turns with its sheer creativity and scope; Smith didn’t skimp on the details or the imagination when he was creating this tome. The way magic is portrayed is often subtle rather than flashy, something that’s seeped into the land itself, which makes it all the more satisfying when Jeff conjures literal magic onto the page.

Speaking of magic, Smith’s artistic style weaves a spell in the reader’s mind. Sticking to just black and white, Bone has some great uses of light and shadow, especially shadow. Smith’s decision to “limit” himself to just two colors was influenced by old comic strips, something older readers can easily pick up on. I’m certain this also made it easier to churn out installations bimonthly without Smith feeling rushed or having to compromise on his style.

Kingdok in all his ferocious glory.

I couldn’t wrap up this review without mentioning the news that Netflix has decided to adapt Bone into an animated series. I’m looking forward to seeing the art style the series will have, as well as what parts of the story and its themes the show will explore for younger audiences, especially because the story was originally published from 1991 to 2004.

There’s a lot to absorb, appreciate, and mull over with Bone, no matter your age. It’s easy to understand why this one is such a beloved classic, one to share with future generations. When life’s problems have too many shades of complications, it’s a comfort to know there’s a world where everything is black and white and brimming with adventure and humor at every turn.


Page length: 1,332 pages

Recommend Buy New, Used or Skip: Just for the sheer size, I say buy used if you can find a copy (or, as always, check your local library)


Cover for Kindred adaptation.

Up Next: Kindred, the graphic novel adaptation of Octavia Butler’s classic novel. Adapted by Damian Duffy and illustrated by John Jennings, Kindred is the story of a young Black woman named Dana who lives in 1970s California and finds herself yanked back in time to the antebellum South. Dana eventually returns to her own time, but she’s drawn back to the son of a plantation owner again and again. Can Dana survive the ordeal and anchor herself in her own time once and for all, or will she succumb to the immortal violence, racism, and sexism that endures the test of time?