Poster artist and children’s book author/illustrator James McMullan has created dozens of well-known Lincoln Center posters and editorial illustrations, including a series in New York Magazine that inspired the film “Saturday Night Fever. This month, his first illustrated memoir will be published. Leaving China: An Artists Paints His World War II Childhood (Algonquin Young Readers) chronicles McMullan’s peripatetic existence before and after escaping with his mother from Japanese-occupied Cheefoo, China. Beautifully illustrated in his signature watercolor style, McMullan has written an unsentimental and compelling story tracing the saga of his missionary grandparents, family business, parents’ relationship, and father’s anti-Japanese intelligence work in the British army—all leading to McMullan becoming an artist.
Leaving China is a collection of 55 short scenes, each illustrated with a stunning full-page watercolor impressionistically illuminating McMullan’s recollections. “My earliest memory is of throwing a grape,” McMullan writes in the first scene, in which he's bitten by a German shepherd. The incident may have triggered the “unsettling nervousness I exhibited during my childhood," though perhaps, he says, "I was simply destined to be a worried anxious boy, German shepherd bites or not.” The rest of the book continues that theme of uncertainty in a dangerous, war-torn world, and how he found “strength in art and a way to be in the world that was not his father’s or mother’s idea of a man’s life.”
Over the decades, McMullan has suppressed some early memories and grappled with others. But in 2010, he rediscovered a box of his parents' wartime letters, which motivated him to finally write down a narrative that pulled together all his memories of his first years traveling between China, Canada, and India. The letters had remained forgotten and unread because McMullan admits he didn't want to revisit the emotions of those times and his relationships with his parents, but, “being in my 70s, I faced the fact it was now or never to pin down what I could about my childhood,” he explains, adding “I needed a sense that I actually had a childhood.”
Deciding how to present these intimate recollections was his challenge. McMullan’s wife, Kate McMullan, with whom he’s collaborated a number of children’s stories, initially tried making a book from a single memory onboard the U.S.S. Calvin Coolidge during a thwarted attack by a Japanese dive-bomber. “My character acted very heroically to find my mother a life vest," McMullan recalls. "I think I was always conscious that I was not a heroic little boy, and perhaps that kept me from writing the story for so long. Now that I've spent time writing and thinking about that history, I realize it was about survival and not heroics, and that my life as an artist was a kind of strength that came out of the experience.”
Apart from the letters, McMullan says he referred to his sister’s and father's diaries, reminiscences by an older cousin, a book on British Army intelligence in China and, most importantly, two family photo albums from the early years in China. For the history of his paternal grandparents, he says, he relied on the stories his mother and cousin had told him and what he could further glean about The McMullan Company from dated Cheefoo newspapers.
McMullan’s economical writing style complements the eloquence of the watercolor paintings. “I hoped that the illustrations would more effectively express the emotions that the writing only hinted at,” he says. “It wasn't really difficult to decide on what to show in the pictures—they were scenes that have gestated in my mind for a long time. The incidents in the text always had a ‘center’ that the paintings could illuminate. Once I had written the scene, I approached making the image very much as something that had to work as an imagined and ‘synthetic’ work of art, not as a recreation of actual events. My use of a somewhat un-naturalistic color palette and an omniscient, high point of view was part of my method to free myself from what might have been the pressure to make ‘true’ illustrations.”
Working on the book, he says he became “in a way, two people.” One was the author writing down the memories in an economical style, and the other was the artist “making creative ‘hay’ out of the material.”
“I tried to be truthful and fair,” he adds. “I didn't know my father well enough to make judgments about him, and what I wrote about my mother I hope conveyed that, along with her self- absorption and alcoholism, she was a witty and charming person.”