A (donut)Hole in Maus

I found myself continuously surprised as I was reading the first two chapters. For example,

On “we weren’t close” on page 11: 

Without the caption, I would assume Art and his father are the best of friends. Both of their expressions are of such happiness and their arms are all open for an embrace. It’s not only that Art’s father says that “[he] was worried”, but more so that he was willing to say it. Not only does he sound like a caring father that has a strong relationship with his son, but the fact that he was willing to admit anything that “goes against” the pride of a man means a lot. When I studied the art after reading the text, it was hard for me to put them together in my head.

This got me thinking: Is art ever really telling from experience? It’s obvious that his illustrations and secondhand storytelling is not a direct source from the author himself. He is telling a story of a story—there is always room for error in this equation. However, even in the scenes where Art is in conversation with his father, the illustrations are not a direct translation from his memories. Art illustrates the scenes from an omniscient viewpoint. In reality, Art can only see so much of the room, his father, and barely anything of himself. Art is inferring his own expressions, and probably many of the intermediate actions of his father which don’t hold much significance in real life but could probably be analyzed down to the core in an 11 AP class. Art was probably busy jotting down notes while his father was telling his story while counting his pills or biking. We must remember while reading this novel that the text is told in first person, but the illustrations are not.