In Art Spiegelman’s introduction to his illustrated novella, he includes Adolf Hitler’s quote, “The Jews are undoubtedly a race, but they are not human.”

This is the perfect incentive for Spiegelman’s pictorial interpretation of his father’s Holocaust experience, drawn with Jews depicted as mice and Nazis as menacing cats. What makes Maus atypical compared to other Holocaust stories is that it’s a graphic novel, but what makes it worthwhile is Spiegelman’s personal interpretation of the story of his father, Vladek.

Spiegelman begins his father’s tale long before World War II, against Vladek’s request, delving into his early love life and marriage. The story is told in flashbacks so amazingly thorough and intricate that it makes Maus difficult to put down. Every box is drawn with such care and precision, it’s obvious that Spiegelman is committed to portraying his father’s experience as accurately as possible. He documents everything from Vladek’s marriage to his capture and time in Auschwitz. Spiegelman also includes scenes of himself and his father bonding over coffee and dinner made by Vladek’s second wife, Mala.

It’s wonderful to watch Spiegelman and his father’s relationship revive through these stories. That’s what brings Maus to life and makes it so sincere and three-dimensional. The book is wildly dramatic and heart-breaking at times, but also filled with small bursts of humor.

In the beginning, Vladek secretly throws away his son’s coat because he thinks it’s shameful for the child of a Holocaust survivor to wear such a shabby jacket. Vladek has very abnormal and old-fashioned ideals, and it’s entertaining to see his son try to please him.

Maus is an unforgettable memoir that is perfectly paired with a cup of coffee and a free afternoon. Who knows if Spiegelman wrote it to reconnect with his father, learn his story, or understand the mild antagonism between them, but the result is a sentimental and captivating tale.