Here

Fiction | Graphic Novel/Book | Adult | Published in 2014

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Summary

Background

Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Pages 1-113

Pages 114-209

Pages 210-303

Character Analysis

Themes

Symbols & Motifs

Important Quotes

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Pages 114-209Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Pages 114-209 Summary

In 1775, a couple walks toward their colonial house. The man, William Franklin, son of Benjamin Franklin, expresses dread over the coming visit of his son and father. William has not seen his son in years and is nervous that Little Billy, now fifteen, will be different. William is also nervous to speak with his father, whose support for American independence makes him a terrorist in William’s eyes. The woman makes William promise not to discuss politics at the visit. From behind a tree in the foreground, two small children yell “Bastard!” at William (120). They flee as William yells, calling them “Ruffians!” while the woman wonders what is happening to the world (125). The tree the children hide behind is large, and over the course of three pages, panels show it growing from a sapling in 1564 to a young tree in 1579. Benjamin Franklin and William’s son arrive at the house in a carriage. Benjamin assures the nervous Little Billy that William is excited to see him. Benjamin is emotional at returning to this town, which he has not seen since he was young, and promises Little Billy that he will not argue with William over politics. That night, word bubbles from the house show a fight between Benjamin and William over their opposing views of the American Revolution, with William being a staunch Loyalist and Benjamin a patriot.

In 1983, a baseball crashes through the window of a room, and in 1949, a mirror falls off the fireplace and breaks. Panels surround these two events, with snippets of arguments and moments of disaster. A can of paint falls in 1990, while a man in 2014 falls from a ladder. A wine glass breaks in 1963, while insults abound. Panels with “Dipshit,” “Dirt bag,” “Square,” and others fill the page, all said in different years (138-39). A large panel from 2111 shows the window of the room broken, with water flooding in.

Panels begin to range more widely in time, depicting the space long before the house was built and long after it ceased to exist. A scene from 500,000 BCE shows a desolate, blue landscape, while the year 2113 shows the room gone, and the area underwater. One of the oldest views of the area, in 3,000,000,000 BCE, shows a yellow and brown landscape, ill-defined, but bright. In a panel from 1960, a woman asks, “Did you lose something?” (145). Panels scattered over landscapes of times before the room capture moments of loss by the many people who occupy this space. A man cannot find his umbrella in 1923, while a man in 1959 cannot find his keys, and a man in 2222 cannot find his car. Not every moment of loss is trivial, however, as a woman in 1951 laments the loss of her eyesight and a woman in 1962 loses her hearing.

Indigenous people collect water at a creek in 1553, and in 1609, the Indigenous man and woman from previous panels sit in the forest and talk. She asks the man to tell her a story, and he tells her of a big, wild, dangerous beast of the forest. Across the page, in a panel from 1975, there is a man in a polar bear costume. The Indigenous man tells the woman that this beast eats people and that nothing can kill him. When he says to the woman, “Before he eats, he wants to have sex,” she calls him a “nasty liar” (167). The man pounces on her, and she cries for him to stop and yells out for help. In 1998, a girl sits reading on the couch while a bird tweets outside. When she opens the window to yell at the bird, it flies in and chases her around.

A man and woman settle with a picnic and easel on the lawn outside the colonial house in 1870. The woman asks the man to paint her, and he says painting her would be joyful, calling her his muse. As this scene plays out, other panels show a cow in 1872 crossing the lawn, while panels bordering the bottom of the pages capture moments of conversations. In 1971, someone smells honeysuckle, while in 1923, a couple observes that it looks like rain. In 1952, someone explains how the science of smell works, while in 2014, someone complains about their squeaky shoes as they cross the room.

In 1973, a woman sets up a projector in the room while panels from 1959 show two boys playing with, and fighting over, a toy drum. Later that night in 1973, a home video of one of the boys banging the drum plays on the projector. In 1402, an Indigenous man shoots an arrow, and panels track the arrow’s progress across the page. In 1352, an Indigenous woman dives into a pond and swims. In 1986, a cassette player plays, “Doo be doo be doo...,” while a panel shows a man in 2014 saying “We do as we do” (196). In another panel from 2014, a woman declares, “I’ve just had déjà vu” (198). In 3,000,500,000 BCE, the Earth is a cloudy pink landscape, while an inset panel shows the woman offering the painter wine in 1870, and then asking him why he does not want to paint her. Two children play pin the tail on the donkey in 1920, and a panel in 1974 shows a woman getting ready in the mirror over the fireplace.

Pages 114-209 Analysis

Here uses panels from different years to create narratives that connect different people over vast historical distances. Repeated actions, like dancing, highlight the universality of human expression. The Interconnectedness of Human Experiences does not solely rely on experiencing the same exact moments in life, such as holidays, but also on experiencing similar emotions. There is an extended sequence in Here in which multiple people spanning decades all deal in some way with loss. Some losses are concrete, like the lost wallet in 1932 (142), while others are abstract and metaphorical, like the woman in 1996 who says, “Then I lost my self-control” (144). In both cases, these characters lose something and feel the frustration and disappointment that accompanies loss, whether that loss is trivial or profound. Their sentiments are repeated in the following pages as another woman loses her earring (149), while yet another loses her hearing (148). Though the consequences of these losses vary in severity, they demonstrate that loss is an experience that connects people over time. By using many panels depicting similar moments in different years, Here depicts the experience of loss as one that transcends time. Each panel features a different year, but the preoccupations of its character remain similar, showing that even though time passes, human experiences persist and can connect people through time.

Graphic novels use panels to capture moments in time that, when connected, create a narrative. Traditionally, these panels are placed side-by-side and often depict a chronological development from one to the next. Here breaks with this tradition by using a two-page span as a single panel, then layering smaller panels on top of it, showing that exact same space at a different moment. This non-chronological style creates moments that echo across decades, presenting Objects and Images as Containers of Memory. As a woman plays a piano in 1964, on pages 78 and 79, inset panels depict three different women dancing in the same room in 1932, 1993, and 2014. Each of these panels opens a window into a different time, but nothing specific is revealed about these women’s lives. The single image of each woman, frozen in time, stands as a synecdoche for her whole life and for the whole world in which she lives. Throughout Here, the relationships between McGuire’s images suggest exactly this: that each moment of human experience contains the whole of human experience within itself.

On pages 170 and 171, Here breaks from its own convention by using multiple panels to depict movement within a single scene. The pages display the room in 1998 as a bird flies in through the window after a woman reading on the couch opens the window to yell at it for tweeting. The page then features nine panels depicting the bird flying around the room, chasing the girl. These panels show the girl running from the bird, creating a one-page view of many consecutive moments layered on top of each other. These two pages are anomalous in Here, though they have a close analog in the pages from 1907 as the man in the red shirt is building the house. Rather than seek to create a moment pieced together across time, it creates a view of many moments happening one after the other. It follows the progression of the girl and the bird over many moments, not just one, simulating movement. By layering panels of moments happening one after the other in quick succession, Here creates an action sequence.

Here often uses the layering of panels to show how different moments in time can be connected. By doing so, the graphic novel creates a commentary surrounding The Fluidity of Time, in which moments separated by decades or even centuries are similar, creating a cyclical or repetitive feeling. Between pages 134 and 139, Here uses many panels to show the repeated moment of objects breaking in the house and the frequent use of insults against others. On page 127, an inset panel shows a man from 1991 breaking his shoelace, while the background image shows a baseball breaking the window in 1983. Here reinforces this motif of broken objects with a panel on page 131 that shows water flowing through a broken window in 2111, while on the same page, panels from 1963 and 1943 show a wine glass and plate breaking. This repeated imagery of broken items at different points in time demonstrates how similar moments repeat over time. Similarly, panels that include insults, like “Klutz” in 1965 and “Weirdo” in 1955, show how reactions to accidents occur as frequently as the accidents themselves. When moments such as these are put together, they can create a conversation outside of chronological time. A panel from 1720 features an insult in a word bubble: “You, sir, are full of drink and low conversation, without dignity of appearance or manner” (134). On the next page, a panel from 1820 provides a response: “A more contemptible, cowardly, selfish, unfeeling dog does not exist!” (135). Put together, these moments separated by a full century create a conversation, transcending the constraints of time and demonstrating how similar moments from different times can fit together.