“You do what you have to do to survive, and then you have your entire lifetime to make sense of it all,” (153). So states Squad Marksman Matt Klein in Invisible Wounds, Jess Ruliffson’s illustrated collection of interviews with veterans across the United States. Ruliffson spoke to twelve veterans about their deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. The storytellers range in age, race, gender and sexuality. The group includes three women, one a lesbian, and an Asian transgender man, as well as a Vietnamese American and a Black man. The narrators describe brotherhood and belonging, hazing, harassment, injuries, homecoming, violence and empathy.
I love to see how an artist visually interprets someone else’s memories and emotions. This works well in Amtracker Nathan Galster’s story. Contrasting the desert scenery of his deployment in Iraq, Galster reflects on how content he would be, to be still and at peace. Ruliffson depicts him reposing on a surfboard, watching the waves with a friend. Rifleman Josiah White broods with his hands in his pockets, eyes downcast, his home in the background. “I have so much because I got blown up. I wouldn’t have this house. I wouldn’t have a college degree,” (27). A yellowish tan color washes over the house while Josiah stands in a blue foreground. The way the two different tones meet in the bunting hanging across the panel, in Josiah’s clothes, seems like a representation of him being split between two things, perhaps belonging to both or neither. He finishes the thought, “If I could go back, I would do the right thing. You can’t go back,” (27). The overall color palette reminds me of a rainy fall day, muted tones paired with brighter reds and oranges. Colorwork can be restful for the senses. I found this colorwork to be appropriately agitating.
The artwork is not particularly graphic, but due to the theme, this book is best offered to older teens and adults. Not being a veteran myself, I can’t speak to how veterans would receive this work, but I expect they would relate to it as it would stir up thoughts and memories. Invisible Wounds is not a historical account of the Iraq War, and those who are curious may prefer supplementary resources or other books entirely for more facts, background information, and broader perspectives presented with a larger scope. However, for personal recollections that someone could be telling you from across a kitchen table with candidness and vulnerability, this is a thoughtful book with great artwork.
Against the backdrop of a small (and small-minded) town in Kansas that has laid claim to The Wizard of Oz, Anderson and Sack’s My Fairy Godfather uses the coming-of-age/fish-out-water framework to explore how prejudice impacts both teenagers and adults.
When high school junior Billie loses both of her parents in a car crash, she is sent (against the wishes of her conservative aunt and uncle) to live with her gay godfather, Adam, and his sassy partner, Steven. As Billie adjusts to her new life, Adam has to learn how to take care of a teenager while trying to keep his struggling independent movie theater afloat in a town that has not historically been kind to him. Along the way, Billie befriends a lesbian Dorothy Gale impersonator named Clara, and a potential love interest, Dylan, whose desire to be an ally is at odds with his friends and family.
Over the course of the comic, Anderson and Sack tell a pleasantly grounded story about the intricacies of LGBTQIA+ life showing that the challenges of growing up and parenting are not limited to so-called “traditional” families. The creators don’t shy away from big, direct statements about equality and allyship (the final scene, for example) but they’re at their best during the small, personal moments in My Fairy Godfather, when the reader is really brought into the characters’ struggles and is shown the toll that hate takes on human beings. The character of Adam, in particular, is usually portrayed as much more reserved than those around him, but he often exhibits subtle changes in facial expressions that hint at internal conflict and changing perspectives. The scenes in which he is figuring out how to enforce rules with Billie or discussing his insecurities with Steven really demonstrate this, and are among the most engaging and impactful of the entire comic.
Artist Jon Sack utilizes clear, definite linework set against flat colors, not dissimilar to the works of Daniel Clowes or Charles Burns. It’s a style that compliments the matter-of-fact approach to the everyday stressors of the characters, and leads to an accessible reading experience. The style visually aligns the book much more closely to the tradition of “real world” independent comics like Clowes’ Ghost World or Adrian Tomine’s Summer Blonde. The artist’s emphasis on clarity of storytelling over detail also helps with the book’s quick pacing, which is appreciated considering the often heavy and upsetting subject matter.
My Fairy Godfather is an excellent comic if you’re looking for books that humanize LGBTQIA+ characters and put their worries, insecurities, and mistakes on full display. On the surface, it looks like the familiar “teenager thrown into an uncomfortable new environment” type of narrative, and on some level it is, but the creators put in the legwork to make Adam’s story as important, if not more so, than Billie’s. By taking us through the ways Billie and Adam’s personal challenges intersect, Anderson and Sack remind us that families are not one-size-fits-all and that a desire to connect with others cuts across differences in sexual orientation, age, and gender. It’s clear that they’re deeply concerned with the idea of chosen family, and when characters connect with each other, it’s genuinely touching. As far as I can tell, the intended audience for My Fairy Godfather is adults, however, the exploration of family dynamics and teen relationships would make this book just as palatable for YA readers– especially if they’ve already read Flamer but aren’t quite ready to tackle Fun Home.
My Fairy Godfather By Robert Mailer Anderson Art by Jon Sack Fantagraphics, 2024 ISBN: 9781683969808
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Older Teen (16-18)
Bipolar is often a misunderstood disease. 1-3% of the US population have bipolar of some form with a near equal split between the born male and female sex. This mental illness, unfortunately, has the highest suicide rate with around 50% of those with bipolar will attempt at least once. 19% will succeed.
Representation of mental illnesses in fiction and graphic novels has increased tenfold in the last five years yet bipolar is rarely depicted. (Not to toot my own horn, okay I am, but I’m writing a romance novel about a woman who is bipolar and getting back into the dating life. The first 5,000 words were submitted to Harlequin, a well-known publishing house, for a contest searching for stories from underrepresented groups.) When I came across Ellen Forney’s work, I made grabby hands and quickly bought her books. Here was someone who is bipolar representing the disease in a new and accessible way minus the complex language and medical jargon.
Her first graphic memoir, Marbles, is about her diagnosis, reaction, and living with the disease. Her second book, the subject of this review, is Rock Steady, where nearly a decade after Marbles, Forney writes about what has helped her, the advice she found has worked, as well as digging deep into available options from therapy options to mental and physical exercises. She also includes information on coping skills, triggers and tools. Additionally, she provides reliable resources for her information, a bibliography, and other resources that may be helpful.
The book does not need to be read in chronological order. I, however, read it in chorological order.
The first chapter, Basics, breaks down the key things needed for stability. These things are different from person to person, just as bipolar presents differently in those who have it. Forney sums all of this up with her own acronym: SMEDMERTS! And she even drew a mascot for it.
SMEDMERTS stands for Sleep, Meds, Eat, Doctor, Mindfulness, Exercise, Routine, Tools, and Support System. Forney zeros in that while everyone is different, the two key, key things are getting enough sleep and taking your meds (if meds are part of your treatment). I cannot agree enough! My meds are time based (some in the morning, others before bed) and recently I missed two days within the last seven. While there were days in between my meds were taken, those missed days impacted my daily life. On the second day I missed, I only slept 30 minutes that nights and felt fine the following day due to the oncoming mania. I self-corrected the next night, took my meds on time, and felt a lot better since.
What those with any mental illness want, and not just bipolar, is for stability. When using all the tools at your disposal, is possible. (I’ve been stable for eight years.) How someone defines stability is of course not the same for everyone, but I do like that Forney included it here because it gives a basic guide for the person and their support system. Sometimes it’s hard to discern the difference between what is the disease and what is a normal human emotion or reaction. Having a description on the ways stability presents goes a long way towards better knowledge about the disease.
Forney also recommends giving yourself merit badges, she includes them at the end of every chapter, for committing to taking care of yourself and has a pledge:
“I’m not alone, things get better and worse, I can do it. SMEDMERTS!” She also suggests a kiss on the back of your hand for “self-appreciation and respect.” I can get behind that!
Each chapter covers some version of her acronym such as Therapy, Coping Tools, Meds, and finding others like you. All of these are important skills.
I really appreciate the information under coping skills because I recognized some of my own skillsets and learned new ones. The therapy chapter also introduced other forms of therapy I was not aware of.
I know this is a review site for graphic novels, but Rock Steady isn’t a graphic novel in so much a help book with drawings. There is no color palette to speak of or line art to comment on. It’s a book with lots of quick drawings, illustrations, and doodles. Forney uses her art to illustrate her thoughts and ideas so on some pages, when she is being serious, the work is more serious and complex while on her lighter content, the drawings and illustrations are more whimsical. See the mascot she made for SMEDMERTS. I’d wear that on a shirt!
Rock Steady is perfect for anyone who is curious about mental illness, and specifically about bipolar. It’s also a great tool for those who are diagnosed so they can learn about the disease from someone who has it and is stable, and it is especially a great guide for those who know someone who is bipolar and want more information. Forney includes a list of reputable resources at the end of the book as well as she includes a bibliography for additional reading. The content of Rock Steady comes from Forney’s experience as well as interviews with mental health professionals and those who are bipolar or know someone who is bipolar. I must stress that Forney makes very clear this is not a “how to” guide but rather a book to share experiences from someone who is bipolar.
The language of Rock Steady is accessible and written in digestible bits. Forney does away with complicated language and makes the language short and to the point. It is because of its accessibility that books like Rock Steady are sometimes hard to come by, and representation is important, and necessary. It’s also perfect for displays for Mental Health Month (May) and World Bipolar Day (March 30).
If you or someone you know is bipolar, the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (https://www.dbsalliance.org/), National Alliance on Mental Health (https://www.nami.org/), and bpHope.com have loads of information available from symptoms to where to get care. If you or someone you know is contemplating suicide, please call 988. Help is available.
Rock Steady Brilliant Advice From My Bipolar Life By Ellen Forney Fantagraphics, 2018 ISBN: 9781683961017
“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)
The first flash of crimson that cuts through the indigo palette of Beth Hetland’s Tender is revealed in a steak getting sliced open at the dinner table. This panel connects to the disturbing cover art and signals the encroaching body horror in a book that I found both off-putting and arresting. I did not feel good reading it, yet I wanted to re-read it once I had finished.
Hetland takes the raw ingredients of various social factors and cooks up a grotesque story of main character Carolanne’s desire for a picture-perfect life. What will Carolanne do to get the life she wants? How much of herself will she sacrifice? The author invokes the negative influences of social media and comparing oneself to others as well as the pressures of womanhood, motherhood, and achieving traditional milestones such as getting married and having a baby.
At first, Carolanne seems like a lonely young woman yearning for romance, family, and friendship. She has some peculiar alimentary habits such as eating her own hair and fingernails when she’s stressed out. During my note-taking for this review, I wrote, “What’s going through Carolanne’s mind?” before the violence and insanity had even truly begun. Feelings of sympathy for Carolanne soured to disgust upon seeing the way she manipulates others, particularly her husband Lee. However, an uneasy pity for her returned when understanding the effects of a miscarriage on both partners and their marriage.
Bursts of red and gold punctuate the predominantly indigo and white color palette. Dream sequences and violent fantasies reveal the disorder of Carolanne’s mind. Hetland draws several panels of Carolanne looking down: at pages she is printing for her scrapbook; burning the same scrapbook in a cooking pot while lit from below; tying up a roast; making sausage; staring down at her phone and at a pile of pregnancy tests; and gazing at her own swollen belly. The range of facial expressions that change Carolanne’s face as the image repeats is amazing. She is self-satisfied, smug, haggard, numb, determined.
Tender is an incredible work. It is a tale of insanity that is nonetheless inspired by the mundane horror of domestic and social life. Body and psychological horror fill the pages. There is also one scene of implied, though not graphic, violence against a cat (p. 122 if you want to skip over that). The experience of womanhood informs the work but any adult horror enthusiast will enjoy this book. Be prepared to devour Tender in one sitting.
Tender By Beth Hetland Fantagraphics, 2024 ISBN: 9781683969358
Ephemera, a beautifully written and illustrated graphic memoir by Briana Loewinsohn, opens with the dedication “For my mum and other things not built to last,” a perfect encapsulation of her story. Loewinsohn’s childhood was filled with plants in the place of family. She sought out connection and nourishment in the absence of a mother lost in her own struggles with mental health. It is filled with emotion, vulnerability, and rejuvenation among plants.
The story isn’t linear, rather, it is an almost poetic exploration of Loewinsohn’s childhood through the lens of her adult memories, processing the trauma from her childhood in a way that also embraces the small moments of love and beauty among plants from a mother who had little to offer. The book is split into 3 chapters, “Dirt,” “Water,” and “Light,” the ingredients for gardeners to properly nourish plants. Each chapter opens with a two page spread with the title embraced by plants thriving under the respective ingredients. It then alternates between scenes from Loewinsohn’s childhood among trees and plants with her as an adult, attempting to nurture the plants of her childhood back to health, rejuvenating the garden with knowledge she learned from her mother as a child.
Plants, flowers, and people need nourishment. Some survive in difficult conditions, and some struggle in conditions in which others thrive. The mother wilts, but Loewinsohn survives. Her mother, like many plants, is ephemeral, meant to be cherished, but not for long. It is a book of love and mourning. Of life, beauty and loss.
The pages where Loewinsohn as an adult gardens, remembering her childhood are illustrated in warm brown tones. The plants are dry and in need of nourishment, in contrast to the thriving spring like plants of her childhood. However, those childhood pages are illustrated in cold greenish blue tones. Much of her childhood in the book was alone with plants, vines and flowers filling the space left empty by a mother who wasn’t able to give her the nourishment she needed. But even if they appeared on the surface to be thriving, the cold lack of nourishment for the plants and Loewinsohn as a child, has led to pain and trauma that she attempts to explore and understand as an adult. However, with warmth and nourishment, the plants and Loewinsohn can begin to heal.
After reading a digital galley of Ephemera, I immediately pre ordered a print copy for my personal collection. I usually lean into the convenience of ebooks and audiobooks, but I desperately wanted to hold this book. It is beautiful. The publisher, Fantagraphics does the illustrations and story justice in its printing. The book is a work of art that will be cherished by many. It might not stand out on the shelves, but once held, its beauty is obvious. Ephemera is highly recommended. Adults are the intended audience, but this book may do well in high schools where memoirs or literary graphic novels are well-read.
Ephemera: A Memoir By Briana Loewinsohn Fantagraphics, 2023 ISBN: 9781683966906
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Older Teen (16-18)
Greta, a particularly unfriendly and uncooperative child, has turned away a string of pets that have been sent to cheer her up. Her parents are at their wits end trying to deal with her and haven’t slept in three days. Finally, a small tortoise named Nobody, the last available pet at the pet rental, is sent to her home.
“Nobody” is unfazed by Greta’s rude behavior and can dish out insults just as well as Greta can. His no-nonsense approach to Greta is disarming enough that she asks him to stay and opens up about how the other kids are mean to her at school and she feels different because she does not look like her adoptive parents.
Nobody takes Greta on various expeditions to unusual lands via his magical shell. He also helps her make a friendship with Gabby, another adopted child from her school, who has his own problems fitting in. Nobody shows the children they can fit in anywhere by literally getting them to fit into seemingly impossible spaces and figuratively helping them overcome their struggles getting along with other children. Together, Nobody, Greta, and Gabby help Friendlytown, which has become unfriendly. As the town is restored to its normal friendly self, Greta’s friendship with Gabby is cemented, and her once chaotic home becomes a harmonious place.
The book is both a Fairytale and an allegory in the vein of The Phantom Tollbooth, or Alice in Wonderland, with wordplay such as the name of the guide Nobody conveying part of the meaning. Other wordplay is used as the theme of “fitting in” is shown both literally and figuratively, too. Repeated throughout the story is the dichotomy between kindness and meanness, and the transformation of Friendlytown mirrors Greta’s own transformation. The fantasy worlds the characters visit are both enchanting and instructive to Greta, and to readers alike. The tale is simple enough for young middle grade readers to comprehend, yet complex enough for adults to enjoy pondering the symbolism and meaning.
The illustrations are fully-colored in warm, natural tones, and the facial features of the characters are particularly expressive. Characters show emotion and personality through light and shadow, as well as eyes and mouth. Panels are rectangular with varying numbers per page. The world from which Greta originates bears a resemblance to our own reality, yet has the appearance of otherness, as well. The clothing on all of the characters would fit better in the 40s or 50s. Even a gang of squirrels wears matching argyle sweater vests. The fantasy worlds, while different from Greta’s world in their inhabitants, are drawn in the same style and detail. The story is told almost entirely in speech bubbles, with little description apart from the spoken words, so the illustrations play a crucial role in the reader’s ability to comprehend the story.
Nobody Likes You, Greta Grump is a clever and winsome fable. The message about the importance of kindness is simple but profound. Greta learns that Nobody (the tortoise) does indeed like her, and she needs to show kindness to others in order to bring out their kindness in return. She learns that she can have friends if she learns to treat them nicely. However, she also sees that her parents have loved her unconditionally all along, even when she was being a grump. This graphic novel will appeal to young fans of fantasy and readers who are a bit more thoughtful in their graphic novel reading choices. With its strong message and aesthetic beauty, it will make an excellent addition to youth and school graphic novel collections.
Nobody Likes You Greta Grump Vol. By Cathy Malkasian Fantagraphics, 2021 ISBN: 9781683964056
Transporting the reader back to the arts scene of Argentina in the sixties, Fantagraphics’ translation of Beatnik Buenos Aires, by Diego Arandojo and Facundo Percio, is an atmospheric exploration of the interconnected lives and passions of the artists and dreamers searching for meaning in the smoky cafes and dim streets brimming with an energy only found after the sun has set.
With no central plot, Beatnik Buenos Aires weaves together anecdotes and episodes from the true lives of various artists, writers, and other creatives that lived and worked amidst an artistic landscape now sixty years past. In the opening note, Arandojo explains how the comic grew out of interviews and research that were part of his documentary on the same time period. While more an artistic exploration than a traditional nonfiction comic, the pages of this book are inhabited by very real people. In various chapters, they move from center stage to the background and then return, inviting the reader to sit alongside them in the cafes full of voices and poetry and debate about the meaning of art and life. In piecing together these separate stories, a greater whole takes shape, a whole that offers glimpses into who these people were, into the things that drove them so fiercely to create, to understand, to leave their mark on the world.
Arandojo’s writing is restrained, moving from dialogue and narration to poetic quotes and references to the existing work of the comic’s subjects. The Buenos Aires he captures is not always a place of beauty. Many of these artists struggle in darkness. A man seduced by a charismatic leader stands in front of an oncoming train. A boy’s piano playing serves as a source of both beauty and strife. The subjects of these stories are sex and violence, politics and passion. This is not an idealized view of the artistic process. Rather, it carries the reader into the tumult and conflicts that form the soil from which so much art has grown. Quiet, sometimes grim, tinged with social upheaval and glimpses of the unreal—Beatnik Buenos Aires seeks out the beating hearts amidst the successes, failures, and raw humanity of the people it explores.
Arandojo’s script is brought to marvelous life in Percio’s hazy charcoal artwork. The Argentina we encounter in these pages is a time past; it is almost a dream. Its subjects are all-too real, but their longings are mythic. Under cover of darkness, huddled together in shared isolation, adrift in a world they seek to understand—Percio’s characters live and love and fight under the dim lights of the cafes they call home.
As a comic, Beatnik Buenos Aires seems to have a simple goal—to capture some piece of a time that is past and the people who lived there. Its themes are as varied as its subjects, but the book and its creators do not set out with a message. They bear witness. And in the closing pages, as Arandojo provides some context for each chapter, the lives of these creatives are set down so that we might catch a glimpse through a window, or through the cigarette smoke of a noisy room—and in that glimpse, perhaps we see the world a little differently than we did before.
The publisher does not offer a specific age recommendation, but the book will appeal most to older readers. Generally subdued and occasionally bleak, Beatnik Buenos Aires does include strong moments of realistic sex, nudity, and violence. Combining this with the overall themes and content, the book aims comfortably at an adult audience with potential appeal to older teens.
In total, Beatnik Buenos Aires is a quiet book hovering at the edges of complex lives and big questions. With controlled writing and a strong artistic style, it’s a worthy read for any audience interested in artistic and cultural history, realistic stories, or comics operating with more traditionally literary sensibilities. Intriguing and well-delivered, it may lack the wide appeal of some other titles on the shelves, but for the right audience, it’s a book worth both reading and revisiting.
Beatnik Buenos Aires Vol. By Diego Arandojo Art by Facundo Percio Fantagraphics, 2021 ISBN: 9781683964032
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+) Creator Representation: Argentinian Character Representation: Argentinian
Friendship comes in many sizes from acquaintances you’ve just met to those who know all of your inner secrets and then some. Some relationships are healthy while others are toxic. Healthy friendships provide safety and comfort, joy and happiness and that is what we all want in our lives: for those who are the closest to us to provide those very things that we want and need.
However, some relationships end not with a bang but with a whisper. Sometimes that whisper is so low, we cannot hear it.
“It’s Not What You Thought it Would Be” tells the story of two friends who share the most intimate moments of their lives and are stuck together like glue. But their lives change as one goes to university and the other does not, one moves away and the other stays in the same town they’ve lived in all their lives. There is no animosity or hatred between these two, just sadness and hurt on what may have happened to their very best friend.
This gorgeous book takes us through that process of coming together, separating, and reuniting. Each chapter is told in stand alone vignettes that, by their order in the book, paint a picture of decades of friendship in a swirl of crayon, charcoal, watercolors, and pencil. Each vignette takes on its own importance of medium with the colors and shading coming together and separating just as the friendships. In the final vignette, “The Wedding Guests,” Stewart is at her best by bringing together all of her mediums into one glorious vivid picture and the joy of the two friends being back together again.
Lizzy Stewart is best known for her three children’s books, her works in other books and zines, as well as her work a lecturer at Goldsmith College, London. Her experience with children’s books helps capture the spirit and mood of the friends’ earlier stories in It’s Not What You Thought it Would Be, diving deep into their relationship by the use of art, language, and medium. The earlier vignettes are in swatches of charcoal, much as a child who is learning to draw would use. Her use of crayon in later vignettes also strengthens her commitment to the mood of growing up, sometimes painful but often very joyous.
In the the vignette, “Heavy Air,” one of the best friends, with the help of her brother and neighborhood friends, puts together a house for a sick fox. In those moments, which as adults we would very likely dismiss, the friends experience the satisfaction of creating something beautiful and magical. The simplicity of the joy of nothingness is taken up again in the vignette, “The Dog Walk,” where we find our intrepid friends bemoaning the boredom of their day. When one gets the idea to climb up to the roof of one of their school buildings, followed by the other, they find that, while only their position has changed, their views of the world around them has expanded. They talk about life and how they think they are perceived by their classmates, which is cemented when a boy named Dan joins them. The mood is broken when Dan leaves and returns with a gang of other boys who want in on the magic of the roof. The friends are dismayed by the turn of events and leave, only to find that the magic they thought they gained and lost was in them all along.
The book is rated 18+ but that rating seems a bit steep. Teens may find some joy and value in the unfolding story of two very best friends and how their lives intertwine and release over the years. It is not something that one of them did, rather it is the pains of growing up and moving on. This lesson can be felt even by those well into adulthood. Growing up may be painful, but it can be filled with joy and love with your very best friend who will always be with you.
It’s Not What You Thought It Would Be By Lizzy Stewart Fantagraphics, 2021 ISBN: 9781683964353
Publisher Age Rating: 18+
NFNT Age Recommendation: Older Teen (16-18) Creator Representation: British
Celestia is an urban island of picturesque canals and carnival-masked gangsters that’s been cut off from a post-apocalyptic world. Years before, Celestia escaped the “Great Invasion,” a catastrophe whose contours parallel modern anxieties of climate apocalypse, but could stand in for any global upheaval.
Celestia follows Pierrot, an outcast trickster who takes his name and aesthetic from the tragic clown of commedia dell’arte, and Nora, a fellow runaway. The pair are being pursued by telepaths hoping to reshape Celestia by cultivating their powers. Together, Pierrot and Nora flee the island and set off on a journey of discovery through the wider world that Celestia has left behind. Pierrot and Nora are telepaths themselves, but their powers have only resulted in trauma and terror. Now, a series of uncanny encounters help to break down the psychological barriers they’ve erected around themselves, opening them to the possibility of human connection.
Funny, disturbing, and heartfelt, Celestia is, above all else, trippy as heck. This book reminded me of films by cult science fiction directors such as Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Terry Gilliam, which combine a weird aesthetic with impressionistic storytelling and leave you with the feeling that you’ve wandered into someone else’s dream.
With bold lines, painterly art, and panels that possess an epic, filmic quality, this book is a pleasure to read. Every page is gorgeous with light and color, giving the artwork a depth of emotion that I’ve rarely seen equaled in comics. The strong artwork grounds the evasive, unsettling text, whose story leaves us with nearly as many questions as it supplies answers.
Celestia’s tight focus on Pierrot’s psychological journey is accompanied by a purposeful lack of attention to story and supporting cast. We meet brutish criminals, creepy telepaths, and sexy ladies, characters who add atmosphere to the story, but no real substance. Conflicts are vague and resolved with a dreamlike logic. For the most part, I didn’t mind this approach to storytelling, but there are moments when the narrative’s lack of verisimilitude grates. A scene where Nora is attacked by a brothel worker is probably intended to depict Celestia as a place devoid of sexual intimacy, but comes off as a lazy caricature of sex workers as hypersexual deviants.
Celestia is necessarily a niche book, not to every reader’s taste, but sure to find an audience among fans of weird comics such as Fabien Vehlmann’s Beautiful Darkness and Gilbert and Jaime Hernandez’ Love and Rockets. Depictions of sex and nudity make it best for an adult audience.
Celestia By Manuele Fior Fantagraphics, 2021 ISBN: 9781683964384
Publisher Age Rating: 18
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+) Creator Representation: Italian
Squad Marksman Matt Klein in Invisible Wounds, Jess Ruliffson’s illustrated collection of interviews with veterans across the United States. Ruliffson spoke to twelve veterans about their deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. The storytellers range in age, race, gender and sexuality. The group includes three women, one a lesbian, and an Asian transgender man, as well as a Vietnamese American and a Black man. The narrators describe brotherhood and belonging, hazing, harassment, injuries, homecoming, violence and empathy.
Against the backdrop of a small (and small-minded) town in Kansas that has laid claim to The Wizard of Oz, Anderson and Sack’s My Fairy Godfather uses the coming-of-age/fish-out-water framework to explore how prejudice impacts both teenagers and adults.
to Emil Ferris’s acclaimed My Favorite Thing is Monsters.
The first flash of crimson that cuts through the indigo palette of Beth Hetland’s Tender is revealed in a steak getting sliced open at the dinner table. This panel connects to the disturbing cover art and signals the encroaching body horror in a book that I found both off-putting and arresting. I did not feel good reading it, yet I wanted to re-read it once I had finished.
Ephemera, a beautifully written and illustrated graphic memoir by Briana Loewinsohn, opens with the dedication “For my mum and other things not built to last,” a perfect encapsulation of her story. Loewinsohn’s childhood was filled with plants in the place of family. She sought out connection and nourishment in the absence of a mother lost in her own struggles with mental health. It is filled with emotion, vulnerability, and rejuvenation among plants.
Her parents are at their wits end trying to deal with her and haven’t slept in three days. Finally, a small tortoise named Nobody, the last available pet at the pet rental, is sent to her home.
