The stories told through this novel were, in themselves, incredibly poignant and heart-breaking but they were made even more powerful by the images within the graphic novel. As with the refugees’ own drawings, the illustrations throughout this piece revealed dimensions of life at Villawood with a rawness and realness that couldn’t have been conveyed with just text. In Ahmad’s story, for instance, the image of an ambulance taking him away followed by a collection of connected portraits that seemed to represent isolation and attempts at escape in a shape resembling the ambulance, showed how restrained and oppressed Ahmad was even up to his death. The author’s illustration of Yusuf’s shattered face near the end of the text along with his words, “I only came here to save my life and Australian politicians are destroying me,” also reveal just how relentlessly horrible the system is.

The importance of preserving culture and the gift of inheriting it were highlighted in the author's reflection on song and a song man in this poem. Like language, song is a vehicle for dreams and stories of the past to be passed down infinitely through generations. Past and present are woven together with the inheritance of song as "all these things come together."<br> This stanza also struck me because of its references to the devil. I wonder why the first dream and messenger of song is described as "somebody like a devil" when inheritance of culture is seen as important. Why might the song man not be revered and does this connect to the previous poem's discussion of ceremonies as well as the song man's connection to spirits?

A ka being defined through this part of the story highlights the duplicity that seems to be characteristic of the structure of the text as well as some of its themes. A ka is described as a "double of the body" or a soul that "guides the body through the kingdom of the dead." Even within this definition of a ka, the speaker "wants to complete the sentence" for her father and foreshadows her own role as a ka to her father. In addition, this doubleness and connection is expanded upon earlier in the text when the speaker Ka appears to have the soul or spirit of a child and is treated like a child by the officer she speaks to, despite being an adult. Ka's father's past also attaches meaning to the masks we all wear, as Ka's view of her father's past and who he is differs from who he actually is. Overall, the connection and transition between Ka's definition of a ka and her father's statement emphasize the duplicity in our humanity and, therefore, the lack of permanent markers that we are able to have.

The "incredible constant" and unchanging beauty of Antigua through time contribute to its characterization as a being, in itself. In an earlier section of the text, Kincaid states that the divisions of time we tend to assign don’t exist in Antigua and in smaller places. The island is frequently referred to as small but perhaps it’s because of this that it can hold everything within itself. “An event that occurred one hundred years ago might be as vivid…as if it were happening at this very moment” (54). An event becomes the everyday and the everyday can become an event because these events are woven into people’s lives and the character of Antigua. The result of colonization, its eternal effects, and even the “everyday” is the “incredible constant” which Kincaid describes as both beautiful and prison-like as there is no escape from it. In characterizing Antigua, I thought Kincaid’s phrase, “incredible constant” was an extremely captivating way of seeking to define “everything” and its context in Antigua.

Julius' theory on the meaning of life and death as well as the meaning of aliveness really stood out to me in this section of the text. After being reminded of a memory through elements of the present like music, Julius describes feeling as though he can "no longer tell where the tangible universe ends and the reflected one begins." He proposes that to be alive is to be "both original and reflection" and that a reflection, by itself, is characteristic of death. This description of death suggests that we never truly die--we may be unable to be original and progress forward, but our reflection remains untouched. Julius seems to address this idea throughout the text, particularly when emphasizing the voices of the past and their unwavering existence in the present. The optimism and hope that comes with the idea that we never truly die initially appears to be uncharacteristic of Julius's normally analytical self but, in the context of the grief and sorrow he's experiencing, seems a fitting way to cope. The image of a mirrored wall and the reflection of a doubled world emphasized the disorientation Julius described feeling. It also conveyed the confusion that Julius tries to make sense of in the wake of the grief he's experiencing.

Julius reflects on forgotten cities and our frequent movement underground through references to the Paris Metro and underground travel, in general. This section of the text stood out to me because it connects Julius' earlier exploration of past voices to what he and Farouq later discuss in this chapter. Julius considers all people through this section of the text and continues to merge the past with the present. He previously referred to the subway as a "moving catacomb" and his reference to the word again but in the context of them being burial places, further highlights the presence of all voices-the dead, the forgotten, and the living-among us. Julius and Farouq later discuss how the individuality and differences between people shine through even within a crowd and when together. Julius' perspective on our separated movement together underground seem to reflect this. In addition, his view of the ground from the plane contribute to this more holistic discussion of our relationships with one another and the past.

The speaker's description of Brewster's portraits somewhat mirror his own "sealed-away world" and reflect his relationship to New York City. Through the stream of consciousness narrative style, Julius largely functions as an observer of the city around him through the first three chapters. He's placed in a landscape of his own creation parallel to the city. The tranquility of his apartment at the beginning of the text, his silent yet understanding relationship with his grandmother, his observation of the marathon from a window above, and the richness of his thoughts all paint a portrait of his own corner of the world. They also show that so much can be said in silence and quiet observation. Julius often describes the bustling city as a "counterpoint" to his own life and in being a foil to him, the city (in addition to elements of the narrative like Brewster's portraits) emphasize his feelings and perspective. The subway, for example, is described as "solitude intensified." The city's crowd, in general, amplifies Julius' feelings of loneliness and illustrates a more whole portrait of who he is.

Through the beginning of the text, Kerry is pushed into a lack of control by Gloria and memories of South Africa associated with her. As the play progresses, Nkosi uses different elements of his writing to depict this. For example, he shows Kerry using more exclamations in his speech as Gloria continues to try and confront him with his past. Both the words "I" and "You" are also often italicized within the writing which highlights the separate identities of the memories Gloria represents and who Kerry is beginning to blend together. However, by the end of the play, these elements of language start to fade a bit as Kerry reclaims his past and the reality of the oppression that fueled it rather than the version of his memories Gloria tried to impose on him. This line seemed to be the culminating moment for Kerry re-living his past and reclaiming his memories.

Through this moving line, Head explores the cost of freedom and its impermanence. As the women approach Margaret and show concern for her, she becomes part of the picture she previously captured--the women “too fell in with the sunrise and the sunset” but Margaret is no longer able to “live in the shade” and “fall asleep inside herself”(64). She loses the peace she once felt as she enters restless seas(78). The presence Margaret begins to develop in the society that oppressed her while simultaneously facing the turmoil and loss of love highlight how cruel human nature can be. Through the last section of the novel, Maru and Moleka impose their power over Margaret’s paintings. They try to own and control her through these paintings. In her use of language and imagery, Head places Margaret in the scene she once observed. The “cold, dead world” Margaret now sees contrasts the freedom and fluidity she recognized before. Likewise, her relationship with Maru frees the Masarwa people but seems to trap Margaret. Her individuality and peace seem to fade away in this line and in this moment of the text.

This powerful line reflects how deeply rooted and normalized the caste system became during apartheid. It also, unfortunately, highlights how often and quickly oppression is written off and excused by oppressors. The system described in the novel goes as far as people like Pete referring to Margaret as “it” and not recognizing her as a human being; however, there is no acknowledgement of how wrong and inhumane this institution is. The rules of this stratification system seem very strict and ingrained in everyday life. Yet, through her novel, Head attempts to push back against this idea. The structure of the novel lacks the same rigidity of the social stratification system described. Each character’s perspective flows smoothly into the next despite their caste and this, in itself, subverts the ideas of the caste-like system in place. In addition, the characters that have been emphasized so far (Margaret, Maru, Moleka, Dikeledi) have a “little bit of everything in the whole universe.” They represent an understanding for the world and all individuals that goes beyond the system in place. Maru, for example, “dwells everywhere” and values connecting with the Earth and everything around him above all else. Likewise, Margaret’s pride and lack of hesitance in expressing who she is diminishes the power social stratification had over people, through literature.

Khapil uses spells through her piece to depict the cycle of generational trauma her family is trapped in and how she found freedom within this cycle. In revisiting the concept of "forever" which she referenced initially in describing collective memories of the Partition passed down through her family and her uncles's experience, Khapil illustrates how the spell of trauma that was originally cast on her will forever be present. However, the spell she created to heal in response will also be present forever. Khapil also frequently recalls memories of "women tied to trees" and her mother's "glimpse through a hole in the cart's wall" which emphasize how present and unrelenting trauma can be. Through her use of language and repetition, Khapil encourages those who've been impacted by generations of trauma to revisit their past. As Yael and Jack said, Khapil urges us to "travel to these places" even if "in our dreams" or in whichever way we can, and to be here now. The spell may not end generational trauma but Khapil writes it to give people who are in this cycle their spirit of life back.