Jinchalo

by Matthew Forsythe

Overview

From the author of Ojingogo, another tale of enchantment and adventure

Jinchalo is Korean for "Really?" and that question (formulated variously as "What is and what isn't?" "What is real?" and "What is imagined?") is at the heart of this book. A companion to Matthew Forsythe's vastly successful Ojingogo, Jinchalo stars the same little girl as its heroine. When the mischievous shape-shifter Jinchalo hatches from a mysterious egg, he starts our heroine adventuring anew. Magical troubles drag the pair out of the safety of her home, through the small village where she resides, up, up, and away. In the course of their flight, they visit a robot garden, follow a vine into the clouds, and leave the village far behind.

These comics are firmly rooted in Korean folktales and stylistic conventions, with a playful, joyous drawn line. Jinchalo welcomes readers back into Forsythe's Miyazaki-tinged dreamscape where spotted octopi fly and bears give piggyback rides, where hummingbirds are larger than people and a sad furry monster wearing a bowler hat lurks around every corner. Forsythe uses page space innovatively in this wordless, panel-less book, and his storytelling is compelling for all ages, both simple and intricately detailed.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781770460676
Publisher:	Drawn & Quarterly
Publication date:	02/14/2012
Pages:	120
Sales rank:	770,140
Product dimensions:	5.50(w) x 7.40(h) x 0.50(d)
Age Range:	9 - 12 Years

About the Author

Matt Forsythe works and lives in Montreal. His illustration work has appeared in numerous magazines, including The Walrus and The Wall Street Journal.

Editorial Reviews

Midway through Forsythe’s mostly text-free graphic fable—the follow-up to the Eisner-winning Ojingogo—some readers may suspect that they are being fed some kind of moral, or worse yet, an allegory. What else can they be expected to make of a story so overstuffed with brazenly mythological overtones, journeys, mysterious creatures, and dreamlike encounters? A young girl of formidable appetite (she demolishes log-size sushi rolls like they were canapés) is sent off to market by her father to replenish their food supplies. It’s a simple enough task, but one immediately complicated by her running into a tricky shape-shifter. After that, she’s launched into one dream-logic encounter after another (robots, a headless giant meeting bodyless heads, a great tree that grows out of her pack). Forsythe’s manga-inspired style, with its mellow blue-tones and wide-open white margins is deceptively coolheaded. There’s a frantic but calculated imagination rumbling underneath the surface that recalls the films of Hayao Miyazaki in its fantastical beauty and the wordless glee of Andy Runton’s Owly. There likely are allegories upon allegories threaded through this book, but it can be enjoyed just as well without unraveling them. (Feb.)

Publishers Weekly

Matthew Forsythe's spare pen-and-ink drawings . . . are splendid.” —Douglas Wolk, Salon on Ojingogo

“Forsythe narrates the fantastical journey . . . in images that are at once exquisitely simple and laden with suggestion.” —Montreal Gazette on Ojingogo

“Beautifully produced, weird and wordless.” —Kelly Link on Ojingogo

“A totally unique and engaging book.” —Newsarama on Ojingogo

From the Publisher

Gr 3–8—After eating everything in the house, Voguchi (named only in the cover blurb) is sent out to get rice and a giant egg from the market. However, she accidentally switches eggs with that of a traveling bird, which hatches into a mischievous, shape-shifting, spirit. Things proceed to get truly weird thereafter as Voguchi chases her look-alike, chastises the artist of the comic in which she's appearing, ages rapidly, and dashes through other surreal vignettes. Told almost entirely silently, with only the odd sound effect or untranslatable Asian dialogue, this book rarely has more than two sequential images per page, which can make it a deceptively quick read. The pages are populated with a catalogue of absurdities, including robots, giant sushi, and characters that are redolent of the Shinto spirits in Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away (Viz, 2002). This is a much more organic affair with amusing and tactile inking and effective spot color providing depth and a subtle setting. A strong mythological element pervades the book, giving it an attempt at groundedness that helps balance the enjoyable flights of imaginative fancy. However, those looking for a clear narrative and a succinct ending won't find them in this otherwise charming, whimsical reading experience.—Benjamin Russell, Belmont High School, NH

School Library Journal