If you had asked me a year ago which of the books on my Goodreads shelf would make for the best visual adaptations, “The Raven Boys” by Maggie Stiefvater would have been at the very top of my list. Perhaps it should come as little surprise to learn, then, that “The Raven Boys: The Graphic Novel,” adapted by Stephanie Williams, hit shelves just a few weeks ago.
The series stars Blue Sargent, the non-magical teenage daughter of a house full of psychics. Both versions of the story explore classic themes of friendship, family and belonging as Blue embarks on a quest to find an ancient Welsh king alongside a group of other teens from the local all-boys private school. It’s an incredibly visual story, complete with vivid descriptions, imaginative language and characters that step right off the page and into the mind of the reader. Really, Stiefvater had already succeeded in the first step of a successful adaptation long before the idea was even on the table, simply by writing a story that is so delightfully sensory in nature.
Yet these visuals are hardly a requirement for adaptation. Graphic novel adaptations of popular novels have been around for a long time, and they’re only becoming more common as time goes on — for good reason. From childhood classics like “The Giver” and the Percy Jackson books to classroom staples like “1984,” “To Kill a Mockingbird” and even “Jane Eyre,” these adaptations have served as a means to bring familiar and beloved stories to new audiences and old fans alike, both drawn to the beautiful art and compelling stories these works have to offer.
It’s no wonder these books have seen an increase in popularity in recent years — if anything, it’s a wonder it’s taken this long for publishers to catch on to their potential. Graphic novels are often seen as “easy” reads for less mature readers, a flawed assumption that nonetheless positions graphic novel adaptations as a prime opportunity to profit off two audiences at once: infrequent prose readers looking for an accessible entry point, and established fans eager for a fresh spin on a familiar tale.
As these adaptations have become more popular, it’s no surprise that young adult novels have joined their ranks. Now, it seems that it’s The Raven Cycle series’ turn, with Stiefvater announcing on her Instagram in 2024 that “The Raven Boys: The Graphic Novel” would be the first installment in a full-series collaboration that she has been working on with illustrator Sas Milledge since 2018.
Stiefvater herself has acknowledged the recent trend toward graphic adaptation of YA novels. In the same interview, she stated: “I wanted the Raven Cycle to be a part of this, but only if the adaptation seethed with the same intentionality and specificity as the prose novels.” The question readers are left with is whether the graphic novel achieves this goal, and if so, to what extent?
Answering the first part of this question is easy. From gorgeous full-page spreads of tarot readings to the subtle detail of a loose EpiPen in one character’s messy car, every page drips with the same propulsive air of magic and realism that The Raven Cycle is remembered so fondly for. Much like its perfectly captured cast of characters and exquisitely detailed backdrops, this graphic novel — like its source material — makes magic feel as real and abundant as the 50-50 odds that the same character’s messy car might stall during his morning commute.
Yet, as lovely as the artwork may be, the question of the story’s quality remains. In particular, the question of whether this work, as an adaptation, can also be read as an original, or if it remains merely a touching homage for fans of the original books. If the accessibility of a graphic novel was intended to invite new readers in, this feels especially relevant to ask.
On one hand, it’s easy to see such a faithful adaptation as a success in its own right. Many scenes seem to have been surgically removed from the original book and transplanted into this version, along with almost 250 pages worth of breathtaking images. For old fans, there are few things quite as enjoyable as seeing Blue and Gansey’s first meeting in the pizza shop or the boys’ tarot reading with Blue’s family play out exactly as they did in the original series. New readers, too, are likely to find these scenes just as compelling as old fans found them the first time around.
And yet, ironically, it’s hard not to feel at times that the adaptation is being stifled by its attempt to remain so true to the source material. What the book might be able to say in a sentence requires an entire page in the graphic novel, story time that ends up being siphoned from other less showy moments of the book. Without the context that these apparently “plain” scenes provide, and without a stronger attempt to redirect that information to the reader via unique dialogue or plot points, certain story beats and character dynamics never reach their full potential.
A particularly notable example comes on page 122, almost exactly halfway through the novel, when Blue’s cousin Orla — who lives with Blue — is mentioned for the first and only time. Her mention comes during a scene in which Blue and another character, having a conversation on the porch, are interrupted by the arrival of a flower delivery. Not realizing the flowers are actually for her, Blue assumes they must be for her cousin. Jumping to finish the delivery woman’s sentence, Blue cuts her off with an assuming “Orla?” This is a moment lifted directly from the original text, but we realize as Blue says Orla’s name here that nowhere in this version of the story has Orla ever been introduced. For new readers, this interaction makes zero sense: Who is Orla? Why would she be receiving flowers at Blue’s house?
In the original story, this moment is a brilliant use of “show, don’t tell” — having already established Orla as Blue’s older, flirtatious cousin who receives attention from boys all the time, it makes sense that Blue (and the reader) might assume the flowers are for her. In her simple assumption — “Orla?” — readers are given an early glimpse of a longer character arc, one in which Blue, unused to romantic attention, would default to an insecure assumption that no flowers being delivered to their house could possibly be for her. Throughout the series, Orla serves as a mirror to Blue, showing her what she simultaneously resents and wishes she could be. Without the context of who Orla is, however, this moment falls completely flat.
There are many other smaller moments where something is lost on readers who don’t have the context of the original series to fall back on. A character’s introduction, a villain’s true motivations, a clever bit of foreshadowing — many lose a bit of their shine in this new format. And while none of it makes for a bad read per se, it certainly cheapens the experience.
So I arrive back at the beginning: If you had asked me a year ago if The Raven Boys would make for a good graphic novel adaptation, I would have said yes, and if you asked me today whether it succeeded in that goal … I would likely still say yes. But I would probably recommend that you read the book first.
Daily Arts Writer Camille Nagy can be reached at camnagy@umich.edu.
