Last Monday I wrote my Monday Musings post on graphic novels, in which I defined the term and noted that it was sometimes applied so widely as to include graphic nonfiction. I understand this from a practical point of view. After all, in public libraries and bookshops the goal is to organise books in such a way that readers will find them. Classification niceties are not the point. However, for me, here, it was a step too far, so last week’s post did not include Australian graphic nonfiction.

But, these books do deserve an airing, so, in a sort of part two post, I am going to list a few recent graphic nonfiction works. This will be a short post, because I am not going to reiterate the general information I posted last week, most of which applies as much to graphic nonfiction as to the fictional version.

Select list, plus some

This is a short list aimed at providing a taste of what is happening, which, in fact, doesn’t seem to be a lot when we are talking nonfiction in the graphic book format:

• Safdar Ahmed, Still alive: Notes from Australia’s immigration detention system (2021, Fantagraphics): graphic reportage blending autobiography and journalism, about the author’s experiences running art workshops with asylum seekers at Sydney’s Villawood Detention Centre; Ahmed won a Walkley Award in 2015 for his web comic Villawood: Notes from an immigration detention centre (see here).
• Dave Dye, The Anzac legend : a graphic history of Australia’s involvement in the Great War up to 5th of May 1915 (2014/2017 2nd ed, Wotsleft Books): a graphic history of Gallipoli and the ANZAC Landing; the NLA’s catalogue classifies it as “Graphic novels” and “Nonfiction comics”! (What?)
• Sarah Firth, Eventually Everything Connects (2023, Allen & Unwin): set of interconnected graphic essays that uses humour to explore everyday life, science, philosophy (including existentialism), and grief.
• Eloise Grills, big beautiful female theory (2022, Affirm Press): graphic memoir exploring contemporary life, womanhood, and body image; shortlisted for the 2023 Stella Prize.
• Mandy Ord, When one person dies the whole world is over (2019, Brow Books): graphic memoir, in the form of diary recording one year of Ord’s life, and attempting (said the Stella judges) “to pin down time, to capture the most beautiful and fleeting moments that we tend to rush past”; longlisted for the 2020 Stella prize.
• Joshua Santospirito, The islands where we left our ancestors (2024, Scribe): true story (memoir?) of the creator’s visit to Italy’s Aeolian Islands with his parents to search for past connections and family roots; “a tale of migration and return, of the rise to stardom of actress Ingrid Bergman, of the cheeky wind god Aeolus, of ancestry, place, and belonging…” (from Scribe).
• Sam Wallman, Our members be unlimited (2022, Scribe): explores the history of and necessity for labor unions; “history and argument … celebration and reflection … a reminder of the galvanising power of radical solidarity and of radical love” (Christos Tsiolkas).

There are many graphic nonfiction works for children too, but I’ll just share a self-published example, Laura J. Carroll‘s Making the Shrine (2024), because it captured my attention as something a bit different. It is described as an illustrated exploration of the history of the Shrine of Remembrance in Victoria, examining the memorial’s legacy and the stories of the people behind it. It comprises illustrated stories – history and dramatised personal anecdotes – associated with the Shrine. The National Library wrote a blog post on Carroll’s creation of this work, using her research in Trove.

I am intrigued by some – many – of these! What about you?

Have you read graphic nonfiction and, if so, I’d love to hear your thoughts.