Making an Immigrant's Story Universal: Shaun Tan's "The Arrival"

One of the hardest things to do as an American History teacher is make all these white kids realize that they have an immigration story somewhere in their past.  For 12 and 13 year old kids, if it's anything that happened before 2004, it's ancient history, so the experience of their grandparents or even their parents is so far back that they don't connect with them.  The experience of coming to a new country, with all of the opportunities, confusion and fear that attend it, is brought to vivid, relevant life in Shaun Tan's incredible graphic novel, "The Arrival." 

There are two things most striking about this book.  The first is the visuals, which are extraordinarily imaginative.  I imagine Tan's goal was to take the reader and place them into a world unlike any they were familiar with.  We start with a man leaving an apartment that looks like it could be in any large city.  We see a cracked teapot, a clock, a steamer trunk, a photo of him with his wife and daughter.  We know he's going on a long journey, but we're not sure why--until we see the city outside their apartment.  Long, spined tentacles are coiling down each street--we never find out what they are, but they're definitely ominous.  After a long voyage, the man arrives at his destination--a sparkling metropolis, filled with bizarre shapes, vehicles, foods and animals.  He's thrown off-balance and so are we--and we get the wonderful opportunity to explore this new world he's immigrated to through his eyes and our own.  Tan does give us a few things to cling to--there's a sort of stand-in for the Statue of Liberty (although much different) and a stand-in for Ellis Island...but this is definitely not the United States, or Great Britain, or Germany, or Japan--or anyplace you've ever seen before.  I'm glad he made it unlike anywhere I've seen, because it makes it so the main character's experience is a universal one.

The second thing that's so striking about this book is that although it does qualify as a graphic novel, it's completely wordless.  Tan may have known that any English words would give us an anchor to cling to, and wanted to make us feel the experience of being a newcomer to a new land.  There is script on some of the buildings, but for us it's nonsense--squiggles and scribbles, and we can't make any more of the words than the main character can.  Some will be turned off or confused by the format--I find it utterly brilliant.  The words are gone, but the story remains.  Amazing. 

There are many moments I love here--told through Tan's amazing artwork much better than words would be able to.  Our hero is standing on a street corner, trying to figure out how to use the mass transit system--a stranger helps him, demonstrating how to read the map and use the ticket machine.  A cross between a rotary-dial telephone, a casino slot machine, and a bugle, we know we couldn't have figured it out on our own, and are grateful for her assistance.  This act is mirrored at the end of the book, when he's able to pass on this act of kindness to a newer immigrant. 

We get to see glimpses of why other immigrants came to this mysterious new country--one has giants rampaging through a European-looking city, with searchlit helmets and enormous vacuum cleaners.  Another leaves his village to serve in a war, and returns home to find everything destroyed.  These immigrants come together and form a new community, and we see the pattern emerge--they find new ways to celebrate, new ways to find comfort, and then help their other family members join them.  In creating a book about confusion and fear, Shaun Tan has managed to write one about clarity and hope. 

I'm many generations removed from my own family's experience as immigrants, and I loved this book.  The fear, the confusion, and the wonder filled every page, and I recommend it wholeheartedly.