A number of years ago, I was volunteering at my local library for the summer. As I normally do, I get hooked on a certain genre at a time, and in this case, I was enjoying all things graphic novel. During the downtime in helping kids register for the summer reading program, I’d read through them like water. Graphic novels had started getting quite popular and my library was very good about getting new books in regularly. I went through ones like Sweet Tooth and Saga, “covers” of books like Percy Jackson and Frankenstein, even children’s books like Roller Girl and Smile. When I picked up Beautiful Darkness, I figured it was another cutesy kids’ book. The art colorful and sweet, the title making me think it’ll be a fairy tale with the darkest things being the woods at night. Oh boy, was I wrong.

Beautiful Darkness starts with the Prince and his partner Aurora enjoying a romantic “once upon a time,” only to be interrupted by their home falling apart. Upon first sight it is hard to realize what happened for sure, but you quickly realize they, along with many other characters/sprites, are leaving the body of deceased human girl. The first time I read this, I remember thinking it was grotesque but surely the most disturbing aspect of this story, right? Maybe this was where the “darkness” in the title is from? The book gently continues, showing how Aurora helps the others get food and shelter. Other characters bobble around, not understanding the work that now must get done to survive in the forest. But through a series of events, we start to see more and more disturbing events. I questioned myself in my first read through– oh that scene felt shocking! Their humor must be different than mine. Oh no, that was actually kinda gross… but the art is so pretty, I think I’m overreacting.

The stories continues when cliques start forming in this new society. Leadership changes hands and we get a feel for who many characters really are. After much backstabbing and murder, we see Aurora shift. She starts acting in the name of self-preservation and her own emotions. She eventually finds the house of a human man and lives with another saavy character as winter approaches. When the others find them, kill her new friend, and start to take over, she finds a way to finally make the peace she deserves.

There were so many things in this book left open to interpretation, but only just enough that it inspires intrigue. Who were the characters? The first time I read it, years ago, I imagined them as germs. Now, though, I feel they are all facets of the human Aurora’s self, with our character/sprite Aurora being most like her human. The greed, impatience, and poor self-esteem you see in some other characters show aspects of a growing, learning human child. Similarly, we see one “feral” character/sprite, who eats maggots off the body and lives inside her skeleton. I wonder now if that character is the scared, helpless child, unable to cope with death and leave the nest, so to speak. I also wondered, who is the man? We see him in the woods shortly after human Aurora’s death. Was he looking for his child? Did he kill her and leave her body there? We see a broken doll and alcohol bottles placed in the house later in the book. To me, he lost his daughter and is grieving, filling his time making clocks. But maybe he is a murderer and is in the woods to hide. I couldn’t say. We see Aurora at the end call him her sweet prince. To me, the pseudo-relationship between them feels as though there is a sense of saving. Maybe this was like a creator/creation comparison. In a way, he is a giant or god to her. Or maybe in a way, it is the ghost of his dead daughter still present with him.

I think the biggest question is what does it all mean? From the description of the book, it seems to be “a bleak allegory about surviving the human experience.” But from reading it, it’s not that simple. Yes, we get the feeling of Aurora growing up. We see a responsible yet childishly blissful character turn soured from society. Yes, we see betrayal. We see Aurora lash out at her mouse friend and symbolically wear his fur. We see the meaningful deaths, the accidents, and the plain cruel ends. Every scene is an aspect of growing up. Not everyone makes it. Sometimes the ones that do simply don’t deserve it. Yes, the story alone of Beautiful Darkness may be an allegory for the human experience, but the book as a whole toys with the reader and masterfully brings story, art, and the readers’ own imaginations together for a revelatory read. Many books can rightfully make the same claim, but Beautiful Darkness is more than that.

In terms of praise, the art and creative decisions deserve recognition. The colorful art and horrifying themes sublimely contrast. How someone can make something so lush and childlike so dark and profound is beyond me. Even the intense redness of blood somehow manages to stick out from the rest of the colorful art, leaving a jarring feeling of “this can’t be right” every time. Similarly, there is a graceful mix of cartoon style with a more realistic watercolor. I noticed that things in the human world often got the more realistic work, showing the distinction between real animals and people versus our “sweet” characters/sprites. As winter approaches, the colors in the woods start to fade. This follows Aurora’s loss of innocence. As she becomes less and less enamored with the false view of those around her, we lose the cuteness and vibrancy we started with.

Every time I read this book, I notice more and more details. I still am yet to figure out some of the symbolism, such as the roles of some animals. While I was rightfully horrified the first time around, I now feel a sense of satisfaction in experiencing it and dissecting it. I respect a lot of the reviews I’ve seen calling this book out for missing explanation or certain plot details. Many also, like me in my first read, were not ready for how mentally jolting this read feels. I hope I make time to read this book again in a few years and see if my opinions or thoughts have changed any.

Happy reading,
-Beppa