Ain't Burned All the Bright

It is quickly apparent in Ain’t Burned All the Bright that the narrator and his family members are exhausted and overwhelmed. The theme of Coping With the Overwhelming State of the World is a prominent throughline in the story, at the forefront as the narrator addresses the world events and his subsequent anxiety and exhaustion, and in the background through subtleties in the characters and in the home itself. Each family member is attempting to cope with the events of 2020 in a different way. In the face of the police killings, COVID-19, and climate disaster, the narrator’s mother and brother take contrasting approaches: the mother becomes so consumed by the negativity that, either through fear or weariness, she cannot look away; the brother, on the other hand, retreats into his video game and refuses to look at all, as if refusing to acknowledge the various crises in the real world will deny them existence. Neither of these responses is presented as healthy ways of coping, and the narrator initially finds them confounding if not annoying. Despite their opposite approaches to coping, they each become equally detached from the rest of the family. The mother is always depicted from behind as she stares at the TV, suggesting the distance and unfamiliarity that now exists between her and the narrator; while the brother is so immersed in his game that he even ignores physical pain. However, the calmness of the virtual world he inhabits—regardless of how idyllic and serene it appears in the artwork—is a facade belied by the frantic movement of his hands while he plays.

While Breath One introduces a lot of ideas, images, and other formal elements that recur throughout the text, one of the most prominent is the way it uses the constant presence of the news cycle—which repeats the same negative stories and pessimistic opinions over and over—as a structuring premise, also reflecting the theme The Negative Effects of News Exposure. The repetition of the news (within this Breath and the others), along with the repetition of other words, phrases, and images, gives the impression of being stuck in time. It also drives home the fatigue the characters feel—these are ideas and feelings the family cannot escape and are forced to repeatedly endure. This timeless feeling also gives Ain’t Burned All the Bright a feeling of universality despite the fact it is a text clearly rooted in a specific historical moment. The direct and indirect references to specific things like Black Lives Matter and George Floyd become part of the broader perpetual fight against injustice and oppression that long precedes the events of 2020 that inspired the book, and—even against strong resistance—will continue long into the future.

The fact that Ain’t Burned All the Bright is made from materials that would be available during lockdown and the work-in-progress feel of Griffen’s artwork also reflect the weariness and anxiety of the family. The artwork is vulnerable and barely hanging together; layered on top of itself and frayed at the edges, much like the layered stresses that are overwhelming the narrator and his family. The way the book is reproduced gives it a found-journal quality, as if it was an actual artifact of this specific moment in time. However, despite this physicality and specificity, the abstract and iconic art style also maintains its universalism. The characters are essentially silhouettes with no defining details. This makes it easier for the reader to see themselves in the characters and allows them to stand in for any and every Black family having to deal with the weight of systemic racism and social unrest while also going through the COVID-19 pandemic.

The artwork also has an important relationship with the poetic prose on each page. Quite often the images Griffen has created do more than just accompany Reynold’s words—they extend, deepen, change, and even challenge their meaning. A great example of this comes when the narrator states the news is “talking about a kid my age who couldn’t breathe” (31-32). These words are supported by the image of a small, solitaire sailboat in the shadow of a giant mountain, and then of a hand reaching out of the water and struggling for help as someone drowns. The first image speaks to the narrator’s feelings of isolation and the immensity of the crises around him; while the second image taps into the developing idea that he is so overwhelmed he feels like he is drowning. Significantly, the words and the art remain ambiguous—the news could easily refer to someone dying of COVID-19, a victim of police violence, or someone who actually drowned; and it is this terrible spectrum of possibility that is why the narrator feels so overwhelmed in the first place.

There are several other formal elements that connect with the themes of the text. Breathing is a core conceit throughout the book, functioning on both literal and figurative levels. The right to breathe is central to the Black Lives Matter movement and is directly invoked during the sister’s discussions about protests with her friend; and later in the book, the father struggles to breathe due to COVID-19. These two fears, police brutality and COVID-19, along with ongoing concerns about climate change distress the narrator and cause him to feel extremely anxious. This anxiety presents another way in which he struggles to breathe, as he is so overwhelmed he feels like he is suffocating. Ain’t Burned All the Bright’s structure reinforces this feeling: It is divided into three “Breaths,” each one a prolonged run-on sentence that ends up invoking the endless stream of negativity the narrator is inundated with while mimicking the breathlessness it induces. Each section of the book then ends with a mindful breathing technique (“in through the nose / out through the mouth” [92-95]), which simultaneously serves as a reminder to slow down and breathe while also underscoring the injustice of the narrator being stuck in this perpetual battle for something as fundamental and essential as oxygen.