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geekwayne's review against another edition
4.0
'Lena Finkle's Magic Barrel' by Anya Ulinich belongs alongside all the other realist graphic novels like those by Lynda Barry, Harvey Pekar and Marjane Satrapi. I found it a good read.
The story follows Lena Finkle, who emigrated from Russia as a child. As a divorced mother of two, she is trying to get back into dating again. She is also coming to terms with her old country and the man she left behind. Online dating encounters are described in broad terms with characters like the Orphan, Disaster Man and the Vampire of Bensonhurst. She spends a lot of time talking it out with friends and herself. Her conscience shows up as a small version of herself, scolding her for saying and doing things. Her conversations with her mother are painfully funny. Will she find a way to happiness or be miserable forever?
The story could have felt really whiny, but the self-deprecating humor was touching and kept the story moving along. It's a long graphic novel and the dialogue takes up much of each panel. There are a lot of story elements that might have been too confusing, but Ulinich deftly keeps everything balanced. It's funny and intelligent and kept me turning pages.
I was given a review copy of this graphic novel by Penguin Books and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you for allowing me to review this fine graphic novel.
The story follows Lena Finkle, who emigrated from Russia as a child. As a divorced mother of two, she is trying to get back into dating again. She is also coming to terms with her old country and the man she left behind. Online dating encounters are described in broad terms with characters like the Orphan, Disaster Man and the Vampire of Bensonhurst. She spends a lot of time talking it out with friends and herself. Her conscience shows up as a small version of herself, scolding her for saying and doing things. Her conversations with her mother are painfully funny. Will she find a way to happiness or be miserable forever?
The story could have felt really whiny, but the self-deprecating humor was touching and kept the story moving along. It's a long graphic novel and the dialogue takes up much of each panel. There are a lot of story elements that might have been too confusing, but Ulinich deftly keeps everything balanced. It's funny and intelligent and kept me turning pages.
I was given a review copy of this graphic novel by Penguin Books and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you for allowing me to review this fine graphic novel.
ja3m3's review against another edition
2.0
Based on the reviews at Goodreads I thought I would really enjoy this book, but the humor felt forced and the characters just seemed trite.
meghan111's review against another edition
4.0
The cover and the title are a mismatch with the content of this fictionalized graphic novel memoir. I would describe it as a dating/OkCupid story, with the protagonist Lena being a Russian immigrant living in New York City, who's been in the US for over two decades and has two children. While it opens with a trip back to Russia, the bulk of the novel is about Lena experimenting with online dating and a relationship with a man she calls the Orphan. I loved the artwork, and the way the author would draw a small little figure of Lena on the bigger Lena's shoulder as a sort of truthful little conscience. Flashbacks to childhood are integrated well into the current-day storyline.
saidtheraina's review against another edition
5.0
Bread and butter, friends. This thing is my bread and butter. I could read this shit all day long.
Thank you - so much, Meghan, for pointing this book out to me.
Lena Finkle's Magic Barrel seems to be a barely veiled autobiographical tale. Lena is a 37-year-old woman who is getting divorced. Here, she decides to enter the dating pool again. We learn about her childhood (mostly lived in Russia), her familial relationships (she has two daughters), her life as a famous novelist, her friendships, her exploits with men (sadly, she only experiments with straight relationships). There's a literary allusion folded in here, and she goes into some detail about her relationships and romantic choices. Long-term, short-term, personal reflection, grown-up decisions. Love it.
Though speech bubbles are everywhere, most of the book doesn't have more than one panel to a page. Which is good, because most of the pages are cram-packed with text. It's all black and white, which gives the feeling of an art-journal or sketchbook, rather than a more fully-produced graphic novel. Flipping through the book, I'm struck by the beauty of these layouts.
I was a little let-down by the ending, but I think that's because I simply didn't want it to end. I wanted to know Lena's next choice, and where it led her. I found myself reading portions out to other people in the room.
I identified with Lena's story - of late romantic experimentation, of intentional & cerebral self-experimentation, of personal reinvention, of finding the boundaries between adult behavior and freedom. Of responsibility, and impulse, and knowing you're hurting future-you but not caring. Of irrational despair.
Yeah, might need to own this one.
Thank you - so much, Meghan, for pointing this book out to me.
Lena Finkle's Magic Barrel seems to be a barely veiled autobiographical tale. Lena is a 37-year-old woman who is getting divorced. Here, she decides to enter the dating pool again. We learn about her childhood (mostly lived in Russia), her familial relationships (she has two daughters), her life as a famous novelist, her friendships, her exploits with men (sadly, she only experiments with straight relationships). There's a literary allusion folded in here, and she goes into some detail about her relationships and romantic choices. Long-term, short-term, personal reflection, grown-up decisions. Love it.
Though speech bubbles are everywhere, most of the book doesn't have more than one panel to a page. Which is good, because most of the pages are cram-packed with text. It's all black and white, which gives the feeling of an art-journal or sketchbook, rather than a more fully-produced graphic novel. Flipping through the book, I'm struck by the beauty of these layouts.
I was a little let-down by the ending, but I think that's because I simply didn't want it to end. I wanted to know Lena's next choice, and where it led her. I found myself reading portions out to other people in the room.
I identified with Lena's story - of late romantic experimentation, of intentional & cerebral self-experimentation, of personal reinvention, of finding the boundaries between adult behavior and freedom. Of responsibility, and impulse, and knowing you're hurting future-you but not caring. Of irrational despair.
Yeah, might need to own this one.
thishannah's review against another edition
I came to this book with no preconceptions or expectations, and ended up loving it.
skybalon's review against another edition
4.0
An interesting graphic novel. The art is distinctive but not elaborate, it does add to the story, but is not the kind of art you'd display for its own sake.
The story itself is interesting in a kind of schadenfreude type of way, you sort of wonder if the main character is ever going to get her life together, but in some ways know that her struggles are more fun.
The story itself is interesting in a kind of schadenfreude type of way, you sort of wonder if the main character is ever going to get her life together, but in some ways know that her struggles are more fun.
wanderaven's review against another edition
4.0
My first inclination is to write that this graphic novel is a fantastic representation of the immigrant experience but, although I've never actually said or written that phrase immigrant experience, it immediately feels to me like a cliché and too much like slapping a label on the novel.
It is about being an immigrant to the United States, but it's also about sex and love and friendship and illusions and reality and being a single mother while dealing with all of these things.
Penguin gave me the opportunity to read Lena Finkle's Magic Barrel, and it's a graphic novel that reminds me of why I love these books (and also why some of them I pick up just don't match up with my graphic novel preferences). As best I can tell, Lena Finkle is, in fact, a novel, not a memoir, but given the character's background and physical appearance in comparison with the author's appearance and background, I wondered throughout the narrative how much of the story is fiction and how much of it may be memoir. I typically prefer these graphic memoirs over the strictly fiction novels.
It is, with certainty, though, presented as a fictional novel. Lena is an immigrant from Russia, twice married and divorced with two daughters. She's still in love with her high school boyfriend back in Russia, and a longtime friend advises her she's had too few lovers and needs to get out in the world to better understand men and dating. She dives into online dating but the man she falls in love with (The Orphan) is one she meets on a train. He's reading a short story by Bernard Malamud about a man, Leo Finkle, who hires a marriage broker to find him a wife. The broker claims to have an "entire barrel" of eligible potential brides. This is where the title of the graphic novel comes from: the men Lena dates comprise her own magic barrel.
As a reader, I really couldn't see what Lena saw in The Orphan, but isn't this often how it works? We love our girlfriends, think we understand them, and are baffled at the men they choose. However, this lack of insight didn't stop me from empathizing with her when her heart is broken. Her obsession with what happened is represented graphically with an injured duckling, a wounded and confused creature who can't stay away from the object of her affections, even as she sees he's just hurting her more, even as she sees it's hopeless.
There's a scene of a conversation between Lena and The Orphan in which The Orphan tells her a story from his childhood. While reading the novel, I immediately withdrew from this scene, as I - and likely anyone who reads it will do the same - instantly recognized the story as taken from an old (real-life) movie. At the time, I thought that maybe Ulinich just used this scene from the movie believing readers wouldn't recognize it as such, but I've since re-evaluated its purpose. Lena herself never recognizes this story for what it is, but because the reader does, we can how The Orphan uses her, how he recognized her naiveté as an immigrant who may not have seen such a well known American movie as a way to manipulate her emotions. I wish I'd realized this while actually reading the book, as it likely would've colored everything I read thereafter.
Artistically, my favourite thing about the images in Lena is how Ulinich represents the protagonist's past with rawer, cruder sketches, while the contemporary story is presented with more elegant drawings. So even when there's a flashback within the same page, the reader can easily distinguish the time period.
I enjoyed this graphic novel so much; I'm disappointed to see that Ulinich's first novel was not a graphic one. But the story itself was strong enough to consider her debut, and I'll certainly look forward to her next illustrated novel (or memoir!)
It is about being an immigrant to the United States, but it's also about sex and love and friendship and illusions and reality and being a single mother while dealing with all of these things.
Penguin gave me the opportunity to read Lena Finkle's Magic Barrel, and it's a graphic novel that reminds me of why I love these books (and also why some of them I pick up just don't match up with my graphic novel preferences). As best I can tell, Lena Finkle is, in fact, a novel, not a memoir, but given the character's background and physical appearance in comparison with the author's appearance and background, I wondered throughout the narrative how much of the story is fiction and how much of it may be memoir. I typically prefer these graphic memoirs over the strictly fiction novels.
It is, with certainty, though, presented as a fictional novel. Lena is an immigrant from Russia, twice married and divorced with two daughters. She's still in love with her high school boyfriend back in Russia, and a longtime friend advises her she's had too few lovers and needs to get out in the world to better understand men and dating. She dives into online dating but the man she falls in love with (The Orphan) is one she meets on a train. He's reading a short story by Bernard Malamud about a man, Leo Finkle, who hires a marriage broker to find him a wife. The broker claims to have an "entire barrel" of eligible potential brides. This is where the title of the graphic novel comes from: the men Lena dates comprise her own magic barrel.
Spoiler
As a reader, I really couldn't see what Lena saw in The Orphan, but isn't this often how it works? We love our girlfriends, think we understand them, and are baffled at the men they choose. However, this lack of insight didn't stop me from empathizing with her when her heart is broken. Her obsession with what happened is represented graphically with an injured duckling, a wounded and confused creature who can't stay away from the object of her affections, even as she sees he's just hurting her more, even as she sees it's hopeless.
There's a scene of a conversation between Lena and The Orphan in which The Orphan tells her a story from his childhood. While reading the novel, I immediately withdrew from this scene, as I - and likely anyone who reads it will do the same - instantly recognized the story as taken from an old (real-life) movie. At the time, I thought that maybe Ulinich just used this scene from the movie believing readers wouldn't recognize it as such, but I've since re-evaluated its purpose. Lena herself never recognizes this story for what it is, but because the reader does, we can how The Orphan uses her, how he recognized her naiveté as an immigrant who may not have seen such a well known American movie as a way to manipulate her emotions. I wish I'd realized this while actually reading the book, as it likely would've colored everything I read thereafter.
Artistically, my favourite thing about the images in Lena is how Ulinich represents the protagonist's past with rawer, cruder sketches, while the contemporary story is presented with more elegant drawings. So even when there's a flashback within the same page, the reader can easily distinguish the time period.
I enjoyed this graphic novel so much; I'm disappointed to see that Ulinich's first novel was not a graphic one. But the story itself was strong enough to consider her debut, and I'll certainly look forward to her next illustrated novel (or memoir!)
600bars's review against another edition
4.0
Everyone felt so real that I thought this was a memoir 2/3rds of the way through the book and started to look for her instagram so I could see what the characters looked like irl! This book is about Lena Finkle, who immigrated to the US as an 18 yo with her family from the collapsing soviet union in 1991. The book traces her major relationships up to age 38. It was a fantastic portrayal of falling in love and heartbreak.
When she was in Moscow, Lena had a high school sweetheart named Alik. They remained in contact for the next 20 years via letter. Upon moving to the US, Lena immediately marries a dude from a gas station. I was wondering what her family had to say about that but she was still very much in touch with her parents later in the book so it must have turned out fine. They quickly divorce, because they were teenagers with no concept of what marriage should be. Lena then marries Josh and has a miserable, tumultuous 15 years with him. They finally divorce, and Lena is at a loss.
This is a somewhat common situation that I don’t see depicted all that often: you marry and have kids young, when suddenly circumstance leaves you to re-enter the dating world while middle aged. Most people have their rumspringa when they’re in their 20s, so it’s scary to have to navigate the game with very little dating experience but lots of life experience (2 marriages, 2 children, etc). Lena feels old and tired, but at the same time she’s like a wide eyed baby.
Predictably, Lena falls in love with the type of guy who only shops at the dollar store and dumpster dives all his possessions and sleeps on the floor. “The Orphan” is 45 and has had a WiLd and CRaZy life. He lives like a perpetual man child in self- imposed poverty. Naturally, he is the heir to a soft drink fortune. (And yes, he did attend Oberlin College for 1 year before dropping out. Classic!!!! After that he dates Miranda July then hops freight for a year). The Orphan is magnetic and Lena is addicted to him. He is such a stereotype/caricature, and you want to scream at Lena for falling for it, but at the same time I get it! Most of us have already encountered multiple figures like the Orphan by her age, but she is blind to the red flags waving in her face.
Her relationship with Alik was very interesting as well. He’s one of her few remaining ties to Moscow, and ultimately feels more like family than a lover. Alik is barely even a real person to her anymore. He’s “half man, half nostalgia”.
I loved reading the love story portion, even though I knew it was going to end in disaster. Falling in love is a sickness!! The heartbreak section was great too. The whole book is referencing books I haven’t read, namely Malamud’s Leo Finkle and the Magic Barrel and various Russian lit. The art is beautiful, the block lettering is very tidy but still human. There is a lizzie Mcguire situation going on here where Lena has a mini cartoony self that is used to either depict her past self or her imagined self, in addition to her mini self that works as her inner voice. I liked everything about this, the story the characters the art the flow its funny its sad its so real etc etc etc
When she was in Moscow, Lena had a high school sweetheart named Alik. They remained in contact for the next 20 years via letter. Upon moving to the US, Lena immediately marries a dude from a gas station. I was wondering what her family had to say about that but she was still very much in touch with her parents later in the book so it must have turned out fine. They quickly divorce, because they were teenagers with no concept of what marriage should be. Lena then marries Josh and has a miserable, tumultuous 15 years with him. They finally divorce, and Lena is at a loss.
This is a somewhat common situation that I don’t see depicted all that often: you marry and have kids young, when suddenly circumstance leaves you to re-enter the dating world while middle aged. Most people have their rumspringa when they’re in their 20s, so it’s scary to have to navigate the game with very little dating experience but lots of life experience (2 marriages, 2 children, etc). Lena feels old and tired, but at the same time she’s like a wide eyed baby.
Predictably, Lena falls in love with the type of guy who only shops at the dollar store and dumpster dives all his possessions and sleeps on the floor. “The Orphan” is 45 and has had a WiLd and CRaZy life. He lives like a perpetual man child in self- imposed poverty. Naturally, he is the heir to a soft drink fortune. (And yes, he did attend Oberlin College for 1 year before dropping out. Classic!!!! After that he dates Miranda July then hops freight for a year). The Orphan is magnetic and Lena is addicted to him. He is such a stereotype/caricature, and you want to scream at Lena for falling for it, but at the same time I get it! Most of us have already encountered multiple figures like the Orphan by her age, but she is blind to the red flags waving in her face.
Her relationship with Alik was very interesting as well. He’s one of her few remaining ties to Moscow, and ultimately feels more like family than a lover. Alik is barely even a real person to her anymore. He’s “half man, half nostalgia”.
I loved reading the love story portion, even though I knew it was going to end in disaster. Falling in love is a sickness!! The heartbreak section was great too. The whole book is referencing books I haven’t read, namely Malamud’s Leo Finkle and the Magic Barrel and various Russian lit. The art is beautiful, the block lettering is very tidy but still human. There is a lizzie Mcguire situation going on here where Lena has a mini cartoony self that is used to either depict her past self or her imagined self, in addition to her mini self that works as her inner voice. I liked everything about this, the story the characters the art the flow its funny its sad its so real etc etc etc
dessa's review against another edition
4.0
Man. So smart, so funny, so tender and cynical all at once. At first I hated the juxtaposition of realistic art and cartoon caricature panels, but I grew to love it. And I loved Lena, and her honesty, and her determination to look things in the face - whether that's what it means to be in love, what it means to have sex, or what it means to depend on a lover or a mother or a child. And I especially loved her relationship with Russia - feeling connected and drawn to her "homeland" even as she is repulsed by it - how she wants to go back but knows the place she wants to return to doesn't exist any more. Which, as someone who has lived 5000 km away from "home" for two years, struck me especially hard. Yeah. Just thoughtful. And wonderful.