Review of David Small's Stitches

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Annotated Bibliographies

My four annotated bibliographies can be found by clicking here.

It is not often that you can read a book and be impressed the entire way through just by its sheer uniqueness. The lack of words and almost cinematic feel of the “text” was at once old and new, completely strange and oddly familiar. Tan’s ability to create a gorgeous and broad cityscape, as well as the minutely beautiful created the feeling that I was watching a film, following the director’s artistic vision of what shots would be wide and what images would be zoomed in. Aside from his obvious creativity with visual art, Tan is also a provocative storyteller. I thought Tan did a masterful job of capturing the feeling of complete disorientation that comes with moving to a new and foreign place. The writing that is present means nothing to the reader and compliments perfectly the lost feeling the main character must be experiencing.

Shortly after finishing my undergraduate degree, I decided to move to Japan for a year and a half to teach English. I had never studied Japanese and knew next to nothing about Japanese culture so the first few months of living and working in the country were a whirlwind of new experiences. It was completely disconcerting to walk into a business and have no idea how to order. I relied, much like the main character in Tan’s text, heavily on the kindness of strangers (I can’t tell you how many times a kind Japanese person would literally take me by the hand to where I was attempting ask to go). Not being able to read, write or talk made me feel utterly alone. On the other hand, I learned nearly every day the amazing lesson that so much can be said without speaking a word. In a similar fashion, Tan proved in this book that so much can be written without typing a single letter.

From a critical perspective, Tan’s use of surrealism to create a sense of disorientation and awe is a dynamic metaphor for the notion of “foreign”. The city the man encounters upon his arrival is so massive and strange that it is completely overwhelming. After immigration, the man physically enters this new world by riding in a telephone booth-looking compartment attached to a giant weather balloon. This notion of coming out of the sky to a new land, of literally landing as an alien alone in a strange and new place, symbolizes the detachment and unease experienced by the protagonist. Another image that worked particularly well was the moment the protagonist moved into his new apartment. He carefully opens his suitcase on his bed. What magically appears for a single panel is his wife and daughter in miniature sitting around their table at home. For just a moment, he is able to be home again. Tan is almost taunting him with this bit of magical realism-where the man’s whole life is small enough to fit into his suitcase, but is still maddeningly out of reach.

A second artistic technique that Tan utilizes is the use of detailing to create a sense of familiarity and a deeper emotional connection with certain characters. When the protagonist is at the market and meets the other man and his son who later take him to their home, they are illustrated in emotive detail, their faces full of feeling and life. To contrast this, in other images, peoples’ faces are left intentionally abstract. Detailing is also used to create emotional intensity, the three immigration stories told to the protagonist are all graphically violent and are presented with a similar attention to crisp lines and facial expression. The surrealism and detailing work to create a world that is entirely believable yet entirely foreign. In the end, The Arrival is wonderfully successful at making the reader feel like a stranger in a strange land.