Customer Reviews

Laika

5 star:		(14)
4 star:		(7)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Dead dog books used to be a dime a dozen. Time was a kid couldn't walk into a bookstore without getting whacked over the head with Old Yeller, creamed in the kisser by Sounder, and roughed up royally by Where the Red Fern Grows. Recently, however, dogs don't die as often as all that. You could probably concoct some magnificent sociological explanation for this, citing changes in the political and emotional landscape of our great nation leading to the decrease in deceased literary pups, but as I see it, a good dead dog story is as hard to write as an original paper on Moby Dick. What else is there to say? Man's best friend dies and everyone feels bad. In this jaded culture it would take a pretty steady hand to find a way to write a dead dog tale that touches us deeply. Not a dog person myself, I direct your attention today to Nick Abadzis. I don't know how he did it. Laika, the world's most famous real dead dog (a close second: the dead pooch of Pompeii), is now presented to us in a graphic novel format. Though I prefer cats through and through, "Laika" the novel grabs your heart from your chest and proceeds to dance a tarantella on the remains. The best graphic novels are those books whose stories couldn't have been told any other way. "Laika" has that honor.

Her story was more than just her own. It encapsulated a vast range of people, many of whom you may have never heard of. As the book begins we see a man named Korolev leaving a Russian gulag in a freezing night. Eighteen years later, he is the Chief Designer of Sputnik and his success is without measure. Buoyed by the success of the successful launch, Khruschev demands that his space program launch a second orbital vehicle within a single month. Enter Laika. An unwanted pup, abused and abandoned on the street, she's eventually caught and taken to the Institute of Aviation Medicine. There she is one of many dogs, trained for flight travel. Laika bonds immediately with her caretaker Yelena Alexandrovna Dubrovsky and endears herself to the other scientists as well. As it stands, however, no dog is better suited for space travel and Laika is slated to make a trip from which she will never return. Abadzis deftly describes the people who care for the little dog and the process by which she was ultimately abandoned and killed by both science and Cold War mechanics.

I admit it. You'd think that at this point I'd have learned to trust the First Second imprint of Roaring Brook Press. In the past two years they've managed to churn out consistently engaging, entertaining, fascinating graphic novels. But when I heard that they were doing "Laika" I was incredulous. You work as a children's librarian long enough and you see far too many complex issues simplified and sad stories made light, all in the name of the kiddies. I looked at "Laika" and wondered whether or not the book would even touch on her death. I thought to myself that maybe the author would put it in an Afterword or something. I mean, what child/YA GN is going to actually show a dog die? After finally finishing "Laika", you will be pleased to hear that I gave myself a rousing series of slaps to the face. The death of the dog is practically the point of the entire enterprise from the book's start.

Laika's entire story, as conceived by Abadzis, is heartbreaking but there are certain moments towards the end that I found particularly easy to identify with. When Comrade Yelena visits Laika for one last time she can hear the dog saying her name with every bark, even when Yelena is too far away to hear them. She dreams that Laika is calling out to her for help. That she's scared and uncomfortable and just wants to get out and play. Anyone who has ever owned a pet will be familiar with this feeling. When the pet is missing or in pain, it's difficult to keep from emphasizing with it. How much worse then when the dog in question is imprisoned in a capsule and shot into the sky? Abadzis doesn't just show Laika's plight. He makes you feel it in the core of your being.

The art is interesting as well. For the most part Abadzis chooses to maintain a simplified cartoony style. At moment of great importance, however, he will make the figure of Laika more three-dimensional. In terms of visual storytelling this is a remarkably interesting choice. As Laika sits in the red light of her capsule, mere moments before takeoff, she becomes vastly realistic. Other portions of the book were just as interesting. Sometimes scenes will be black and white, like stills from a movie. Other times they're vast two page spreads that drill home the wonder or the horror of a given moment. And in dreams the lines that make up a panel will grow soft and colorful. There are all kinds of interesting stylistic choices taken in this book if you're just willing to look for them. As with any good graphic novel, these choices make up a significant portion of the storytelling as well.

I am happy to report that at the end of this book you will find an extensive Bibliography, replete with book, video, and Internet sources. Abadzis obviously took a great deal of time researching his subject, a fact mentioned in an Afterword by Alexis Siegel. He has gone from, "the stacks of the British Library to Korolev's house in Moscow." These facts are then combined with fictional details and the result is this book. To what extent does he hold himself accountable for accuracy? To my delight, Abadzis includes a final Author's Note that I've seen in children's books before, but that always amuses me when I spot it again. To quote: "In this book, all phases of the moon depicted on specific dates are accurate to the day - although I may have erred on the side of drama about the time of moonrises." Beautiful.

The last page of this book contains a quote that offers a 1998 statement from Oleg Georgivitch Gazenko. In it, he laments the way that Laika was misused. "We did not learn enough from the mission to justify the death of the dog." It's a dead dog book. Anyone who knows the story of Laika will be aware of that. But above and beyond the obvious this is an ode to dogs themselves. To the animals that we befriend and love and, ultimately, destroy. It's also about history, humanity, and the price of being extraordinary. No one can walk away from this book and not be touched. Consider Nick Abadzis a name to watch from here on in.

This is a beautiful, heartbreaking book, as much about the powerful trust that animals place in us as caregivers as it is about the early days of the Russian space program. It's also about political dissidents in communist Russia, and the struggle we all face between our duty to ourselves and our duty to a higher calling (in this case, the communist party), and a hundred other things.

Read this at home if you're disinclined to public displays of emotion.

The story of the dog that was sacrificed for the conquest of Space by the Russians is well known. This illustrative graphic novel describes the events well and, for those who do not fully appreciated the political undercurrents of fear and the low standard of living and low hope that existed in Russia during that period, it effectively brings this forward. My 12-year old son managed to read the book in one sitting and he now absorbed the sad reality as the lesson in life and politics that drove the events of that time. The illustrations bring the past back to life.

Nick Abadzis interweaves narrative and history very skillfully in his work Laika, throwing light with dazzling artwork upon the interactions between dog and dog-handler; dog and dog-catcher; the vastness of space and mankind; Soviet Union Premier and ordinary citizen. At once it is a simple tale of a good-natured stray dog from Moscow, which would become known to the world as Laika, as well as an intricate account detailing the almost manic race to reach space. It is also a tale of office politics and intrigue, where we see the clashes between the decent Oleg Gazenko and the bullish Sergei Korolev (both real figures from history). And Laika is at the center of it all, representing the fragility of life in the vastness of space. Abadzis gives voice to Laika and to this age. A good read.

November third, 1957 the Soviet Union sent Laika (a.k.a. Kudryavka) a female part-Samoyed terrier into space aboard Sputnik 2 with no plan for recovery, Laika would die in space. What was told to children of the 50's and 60's (myself included) was that the Soviets had made every effort to ensure she was as comfortable as possible during her flight, that she was "put to sleep" before her supplies ran out after ten days in space and that she "did not suffer."

Nothing could be further from the truth.

The book Laika by Nick Abadzis is the the book I wish I could have created. A graphic historical novel rendered in just 205 pages, Abadzis re-creates the Cold War Era and the frenzy of the Space Race. Of all the creatures great and small that would die in this effort to "conquer space" Laika/Kudryavka was the only one I know of who was deliberately sent on a one-way mission.

With astounding detail brought by fantastic research (including at the house of Sputnik's Chief Designer, Sergei Korolev) the author presents not only the story of the dog the world would come to know as Laika but the lives of the people intwined with her fate in the context of the 50's, the Cold War, the Space Race and all that that implies. It has taken decades and the collapse of an entire nation state for facts of this story to come to light. This is not a happy story but it is a story that needs to be told nonetheless, for the sake of all good dogs everywhere and for ourselves.

the story of Laika has so much to teach us - about the way progress depends upon violence, about the way we exploit others for our own goals, about the way individuals who are oppressed by a political system participate in the oppression of others, about who we consider "expendable" in the name of our own achievements - and this graphic novel brings that all to life in a way that is touching and illuminating without being schmaltzy.

Laika was just a mutt wondering the streets of Moscow when she met with destiny. She was brought into the burgeoning Russian space program and became the first living thing from Earth to be launched into space, onboard Sputnik 2 in November 1957. Unfortunately, the dog would only live about four hours in the rocket, before excessive heat killed her. She might have lived had the Russians taken more time to design the capsule inside Sputnik 2, but the shuttle was rushed into production in just a month--Nikita Khrushchev was so impressed by the success of Sputnik 1 that he called in top scientist Sergei Pavlovich to rush the next launch to coincide with the 40th anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution.

Laika remains one of the most famous dogs to ever live and a symbol of the Cold War aggression between Russia and the United States. In Nick Abadzis's graphic novel of the same name, Laika becomes so much more, as do the human beings who catapulted her into history.

Abadzis, a British writer who spent months researching this book, even journeying to Moscow, starts his story with Pavlovich's release from the Gulag in the late 1930s. From then on, Abadzis jumps back and forth in time with wild yet precise abandon, going from Pavlovich's near-death trek to safety after his release from prison to the day of the launch of Sputnik 1 and back in easily followed vignettes.

He also gives Laika a backstory that parallels Pavlovich's. Since so little is known about Laika--even her breeding heritage is debated--it's conjecture on his part, but it's wonderfully imaginative and fitting. Laika deserves a story of her own for the advancements in technology and space exploration that she helped make possible.

Abadzis has a soft, reserved style, a rare gift for subtlety and understatement. In an age of overcrowded pages and panels stuffed full of long dialogue balloons, it's refreshing to read a graphic novel that is not overwhelmed by wordiness.

It's clear, too, that Abadzis has done his research. Laika is filled with fascinating details on the Russian space program and the people inside of it. Pavlovich, still bitter about his false imprisonment and treatment in the Gulag, had a near-impossible task laid out for him when he was commanded by Khrushchev to not only construct a second rocket to launch but to also make it even more news-worthy than Sputnik 1. The only way to top the first event was to put a living thing in orbit. Pavlovich lived up to his end of the bargain, but the cost to him is clearly shown in Laika. It's a tender and engrossing work that deserves praise for shedding light on one of the most noble and steadfast victims of the Cold War.

-- John Hogan

Laika was just a mutt wandering the streets of Moscow when she met with destiny. She was brought into the burgeoning Russian space program and became the first living thing from Earth to be launched into space, onboard Sputnik 2 in November 1957. Unfortunately, the dog would only live about four hours in the rocket, before excessive heat killed her. She might have lived had the Russians taken more time to design the capsule inside Sputnik 2, but the shuttle was rushed into production in just a month --- Nikita Khrushchev was so impressed by the success of Sputnik 1 that he called in top scientist Sergei Pavlovich to rush the next launch to coincide with the 40th anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution.

Laika remains one of the most famous dogs to ever live and a symbol of the Cold War aggression between Russia and the United States. In Nick Abadzis's graphic novel of the same name, Laika becomes so much more, as do the human beings who catapulted her into history.

Abadzis, a British writer who spent months researching this book, even journeying to Moscow, starts his story with Pavlovich's release from the Gulag in the late 1930s. From then on, Abadzis jumps back and forth in time with wild yet precise abandon, going from Pavlovich's near-death trek to safety after his release from prison to the day of the launch of Sputnik 1 and back in easily followed vignettes.

He also gives Laika a backstory that parallels Pavlovich's. Since so little is known about Laika --- even her breeding heritage is debated --- it's conjecture on his part, but it's wonderfully imaginative and fitting. Laika deserves a story of her own for the advancements in technology and space exploration that she helped make possible.

Abadzis has a soft, reserved style, a rare gift for subtlety and understatement. In an age of overcrowded pages and panels stuffed full of long dialogue balloons, it's refreshing to read a graphic novel that is not overwhelmed by wordiness.

It's clear, too, that Abadzis has done his research. LAIKA is filled with fascinating details on the Russian space program and the people inside of it. Pavlovich, still bitter about his false imprisonment and treatment in the Gulag, had a near-impossible task laid out for him when he was commanded by Khrushchev not only to construct a second rocket to launch but also to make it even more newsworthy than Sputnik 1. The only way to top the first event was to put a living thing in orbit.

Pavlovich lived up to his end of the bargain, but the cost to him is clearly shown in LAIKA. It's a tender and engrossing work that deserves praise for shedding light on one of the most noble and steadfast victims of the Cold War.

--- Reviewed by John Hogan

A dog story set in the early days of the cold war space race, ending sadly, as many dog stories do with the demise of the main character and the grief of his human companions. Pressured for another spectacular launch to add to the propaganda success of Sputnik I, soviet scientists launch a dog into orbit with no plan for her return.

In this well researched piece of historical fiction author and illustrator Abadzis adds an imagined early life for the dog Laika. This deepens the emotional impact of his graphic novel and forces the reader to consider the ethics of such animal experimentation.

Educational, emotional, dramatic. Also beautiful. Graphic novel format really works here: It can convey things a text-only book or video can't.