“The human race needs art that makes it uncomfortable,” Karen’s brother Deeze tells her early on in this long-awaited sequel 
to Emil Ferris’s acclaimed My Favorite Thing is Monsters.
I know that I’m not the only one who has waited anxiously for the release of this sequel volume, delivering the second half to the story of Karen Reyes and her quest to solve the suspected murder or her neighbor amidst the chaos of 1960s Chicago. I reread book one before diving in, but a handy synopsis at the start of book two does help to refresh the most immediate plot points in this complex story of multiple timelines and tangled character relationships.
Book Two drops us back into the exact moment where the first volume left off, inside one of Karen’s dreams as she subconsciously tries to make sense of the dead brother she never knew existed and all that has been kept from her by the adults in her life. Karen’s unique POV continues to define the story, even as she comes to recognize more of the harsh truths around her. Her core desire is still to understand what led to the death of her neighbor Anka, but this journey will take her closer to the countercultural movements of her day, deeper into the past horrors of Anka’s experience under Nazi occupation, and dangerously close to the corrupt and violent underworld that controls her brother and so many of those Karen cares about. The story remains, in part, a murder mystery—but as Karen continues to uncover secrets, the answers to her original questions may prove to be secondary to her own immense challenge of growing up in a violent and confusing world that often seems to have no place of safety for her to call home.
With this second volume, Ferris continues following the multitude of thematic and narrative threads laid out in book one. Karen does begin piecing together the story of her own family’s tumultuous history while also glimpsing the harsh truths behind the violence that surrounds her. Woven into each of these revelations are examinations of sexuality and belonging, social movements and individualism, art and violence. The writing is rich with complexity, capturing the turmoil of the time as well as the deeply uncomfortable coming-of-age revelation that the world is a much more difficult place to navigate than we realize when we are young. Karen continues to frame her understanding of the world through the monster movies that are a grounding point of her life, as well as a means of connection to those precious few she is close to, including fellow outsiders and the possibility of first love. But even her love of monsters has its limits, and the things that once comforted Karen are not as safe or as comforting as they once were. There is pain in this loss, but it is not enough to slow the march of time.
The visual style remains as striking as it was at the start, with pen illustrations on lined paper tumbling across the page, interspersed with segments of color. Shifting in levels of realism and detail, the imagery of monsters and classic horror magazines shapes the aesthetic of the story. But it is the quiet moments—where the monsters fall away to reveal the hurting humans beneath—that carry some of the greatest weight. A current of grief runs through this series, grief and uncertainty at being cast adrift and finding that even things which were once certain can no longer entirely be trusted. The visuals build this tone page by page and image by image, interspersed with Karen’s recreations of the classic art pieces which help her try to make sense of the life unspooling around her. There is tenderness mixed into the shades of blue and the nightmare creatures dripping blood. There is vulnerability and intimacy in each jagged stroke of Karen’s pen along the page. At the end of the day, this remains the journal of a young girl fighting for her life as she desperately tries to hold her own life together.
I have immense respect for Ferris and the incredible undertaking that this series is, both visually and narratively. Fantagraphics does not assign it an age rating, and though the central character is a child, the subject matter remains aimed at older audiences. From violence, sex, and assault to the prejudices and harms of the time, the content is mature and often intentionally uncomfortable as Karen progressively comes to understand that even the things we love can carry darkness inside of them.
If I have any criticism of book two, it is simply that there are so many narrative elements to juggle that it is difficult to strike a balance between natural ambiguity and effective conclusions of each story thread. Karen is seeking answers regarding the fates of multiple dead and missing people while also learning more about Anka’s past, herself, her friends, and her remaining family. All of this is happening while the world around her reckons with war and turmoil. There are multiple scenes which Karen says she will return to later—but never does. There are histories uncovered where the ending is implied but never confirmed. And some mysteries that once seemed vitally important do not get the full conclusion that one might expect. In uncovering all these revelations and simultaneously delivering some of the larger thematic ideas, there are moments where the pacing feels slightly rushed, where I was more notably aware of the way that that the story was unfolding. And as everything draws toward its immediate conclusion, there are some abrupt shifts that interrupt the flow of where things appeared to be headed.
But perhaps this too, is intentional. Karen’s journey has never been a smooth one, just as the transition into adulthood is rarely as clean and easy as we might hope. Some long-awaited answers are disappointing, and others never come. This book does not end with a neat conclusion that resolves all that has come before, but I don’t believe that was ever the goal. I will have to sit with this story and its ending for a while longer to decide truly how I feel abut it. Like Deeze says about art—the book succeeded in making me uncomfortable, delivering a resolution that remains in the reader’s hands across the last few blank pages of the story of Karen Reyes. Even as I mull the questions and emotions it left me with, I reflect on the journey it took to get here. Visually and narratively, with a striking aesthetic and a deft creative hand, My Favorite Thing is Monsters is a masterwork of a graphic novel and a powerful experience for anyone who takes the time to read it.
My Favorite Thing is Monsters Book Two
By Emil Ferris
Fantagraphics, 2024
ISBN: 9781683969273
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Older Teen (16-18)
Character Representation: Hispanic, Queer,
