School Library Journal Starred Review
(Mon Jan 01 00:00:00 CST 2018)
The title of Ata's semiautobiographical graphic novel, a mash-up of the Arabic words misadra (or "seizure") and mish adra ("I cannot") is fitting. The story follows Isaac, a college student who feels obstructed at every turn by his epilepsy. Condescending doctors, an unsympathetic father, failing grades, and inconsiderate neighbors (whose loud parties interfere with his sleep and trigger more seizures) only compound his problems. Afraid of being a burden, Isaac keeps most of his fellow students at arm's length, but after losing an eye during a seizure, he meets Jo, who pushes him to open up. Ata skillfully conveys Isaac's solitary anguish at coping with a body that betrays him. The protagonist's expressive inner monologues contrast with his terse conversations with other students, in which he attempts to deflect attention from himself. The color scheme is appropriately discordant, and the manga-style images are haunting, frenetic, and beautiful. Even the placement of the panels at times is chaotic, and during Isaac's seizures, beadlike ropes and daggers with eyes menace him. VERDICT Ata expertly depicts the experience of living with chronic illness. Readers of intimate examinations of physical or emotional conditions, such as Katie Green's Lighter Than My Shadow , will appreciate this unforgettable title. Mahnaz Dar, School Library Journal
ALA Booklist
(Sun Oct 01 00:00:00 CDT 2017)
Isaac wants to go to class and parties and have friends, but trying to manage his epilepsy, along with a college schedule, takes more energy than he has. When fighting against the triggers is too much, he gives in and thinks all is over, but a new friend might be able to help him out of the darkness. The power of Ata's work lies in its luminous art. The images glow almost like neon signs in pink, blue, and red against black or soft yellow backgrounds, but there's enough subtlety to make the images pop rather than sear. Isaac's triggers are depicted as knives moving inexorably toward him, with his seizures shown as line drawings on a black background. Ata's work has the "pretty boys with big eyes" quality of manga, which adds to its power as it encourages readers to empathize with the gentle, misunderstood Isaac. Though bits of the story are, out of necessity, informational, Ata avoids lecturing and instead focuses on illuminating the difficulties of living with a misunderstood illness.
Kirkus Reviews
Artist, illustrator, and game designer Ata presents the story of a college student struggling with epilepsy while trying to live a normal life.It's been five years since the first seizure, and life isn't getting any easier for Isaac. His frazzled, fragile state has him missing school while classmates spread rumors that he's on drugs. In fact, he is on drugs—pills to battle his epilepsy. Isaac is painfully aware of his illness and its triggers (lack of sleep, intense physical and emotional stress, and even anxiety about epilepsy), but unfortunately, most of the people around him (roommates, teachers, doctors, family) underplay the severity of his condition. Frustrated by the limitations his illness imposes on him, Isaac pushes himself to enjoy something close to a normal life—going to parties and drinking with friends—which eventually leads to a violent seizure that lands him in the hospital. But the injury also earns the attention of friend-of-a-friend Jo, who feels an intense sympathy for Isaac's plight. But will even Jo's efforts be enough to help Isaac push through the daily agony of his condition? Ata renders the story in a vibrant manga style, most strikingly depicting Isaac's seizures as a swarm of floating daggers, each blade bearing a single eye and trailing a long string of beads, the weapons encircling Isaac in hypnotizing patterns before slicing him to shreds. The details of Isaac's illness feel decidedly lived-in, and Isaac's exhaustion with the struggle required to live his life is palpably, dramatically realized. But while the specifics of the story are compellingly unique (if occasionally flirting with opacity), the arc feels overly familiar. Nevertheless, the spotlight shone on an underrepresented demographic is commendable.Big and stylish—of particular interest to those dealing with epilepsy or wanting to know more about the condition.