Sam Maggs and Kendra Wells’s debut graphic novel, “Tell No Tales: Pirates of the Southern Seas,” is a wholesome, funny, and unashamedly inclusive, young adult reimagining of the story of legendary lady pirates Anne Bonny and Mary Read.
Written by Sam MaggsCover by Kendra Wells
Art by Kendra WellsAnne Bonny had it all — her own ship, a pirate crew, and a fearsome reputation — but a new enemy has her on the run and it’ll take all of Anne’s courage to stay afloat. The night before a major heist, Anne has an unsettling dream, and come morning, the robbery is thwarted by Woodes Rogers, a zealot who has sworn to eliminate piracy. With no plan to escape, Anne must persuade her crew to seek the meaning of her dream — or perish. Full of sass, solidarity, and swordplay, Tell No Tales is a graphic novel about belonging, belief, and how far we’re willing to go to protect the ones we love.
The first striking aspect of the book is how appealing childlike it looks: the visuals aren’t complicated by the need for historical realism (beyond certain details chosen for emphasis in the story), with there being only five crewmembers on Anne’s ship, La Sirene, including Bonny herself and Read. Scenes set indoors are often as bright and saturated as those taking place under the Caribbean sun, in spite of how 18th century rooms were gloomy places that relied on candlelight for visibility, adding to the book’s easygoing charm.
Wells’s art, which they drew, inked, colored and lettered all by their self, is incredibly expressive and exuberant: there are many times just a panel of Anne looking shocked or perplexed left me giggling. There’s a strong Japanese influence on the art, with large, occasionally sparkling eyes, big smiles, and a tendency for characters to go off-model to amp up the sense of fun. They even depict characters swearing with chibi figures in their speech balloons, like a poop emoji bearing an eyepatch, and a literal donkey when someone says… well, let’s just say it rhymes with farce.
I wish the manga influence had extended to the colors though, with a stronger contrast between the characters and the backgrounds, like if it had been a black-and-white comic: it’s also strange that there aren’t any shadows below tables, on the characters’ jawlines, around their hair, the space between limbs and torsos, or — in the case of the non-white characters — lighter skin tones on the palms of their hands, or the soles of their feet. That’s not to say there aren’t some solid use of shadows though, with the watercolor texture of the gradient tool being used to winning effect on images of smoke, sunsets, and the night sky. Ultimately, the unusual shading doesn’t detract from the sweetness of the art.
The second striking element from the start is how diverse the book is: the crew consists of Sarah, a biracial surgeon; Kati, a muscular, one-eyed Miskito girl who mans the cannons; and Mimba, a Maroon navigator. Anne is, like Maggs, quickly established as bisexual, referring to Calico Jack as her “ex” and Read as her “love,” while Read is, like Wells, portrayed as non-binary — they never use their first name, and their shoulder-length hair evokes the men of the era more than the women.
Each character is varied and distinct, from their roles, backstories and personalities, to their ethnicities, builds, and sexualities, as well as their color schemes: Anne is, naturally, red, while Read and Sarah respectively wear light and dark blue; Kati sports a banana cream colored shirt; and Mimba has a contrasting pink-and-green dress. It feels like they were all designed to be at least one child’s favorite, and it’s great that every reader will see at least one facet of themselves in the gang.
The episodic narrative, where Anne helps her crew discovers the qualities she believes are necessary to defeat Woodes Rogers, affords each of the characters enough time in the spotlight, as well as the corners of the 18th century Caribbean they come from: the target audience will receive a crash course in how there was so much more to the Golden Age of Piracy than unemployed European privateers and naval officers being angry at each other, as we learn about the region’s indigenous peoples, those who were enslaved, and more.
The story does a great job of blending fantasy and history: it’s a book where Woodes Rogers commands a cartoonish monster of a warship based on the ironclad designs from over a century later, but it’s also one that also doesn’t shy away from depicting the captain’s notorious disfigurement, or from touching on sexism, colonialism, and the Miskito mental health issue known as grisi siknis. The dialogue also neatly weaves contemporaneous slang like “lobsters” (a nickname for British redcoats) into the generally modern outlook and dialogue.
Maggs and Wells conclude their epic yarn on a stirring and dramatic note that acknowledges and subverts the historical fate of Bonny and Read, in a metaphorical way that indirectly addresses their young readers, and primes them for another adventure. Hopefully, this will be the first of many by the creative team.
