“Ah, there’s that famous lip quiver!” says Jackie’s abductor and student. Jackie has been determined to be the “saddest living person in the entire world” by a mysterious team of alien abductors. His earthly musical celebrity is nothing compared to his emotional superstar status in the eyes of these curious and peculiar shape-shifters. Jackie is forced to perform his sadness over and over again on command, so his captors can study and master this very puzzling, very human emotion. Until just like that, Jackie is returned to his old life. Trying to comprehend what has happened, he joins a support group. It’s a sea of conspiracy theorists, emotional vampires, and simpatico “real” abductees. As each person tells their story, he realizes he may never know.

Holy Lacrimony is classic DeForge–oscillating between shockingly dirty, casually funny and earnestly engaged in the socio-politics of his fictive worlds. Part abstract shape blending and part hieroglyphic storytelling, each image is a discrete and tightly designed object of beauty that never loses the forward motion of the best personal cartooning. DeForge continues to prove that he’s the single most innovative and empathetic cartoonist in the past twenty years.

The post Holy Lacrimony appeared first on Read Quebec.

From awkward first kisses to changing bodies with an agenda all their own, puberty is not for the faint of heart. But hitting puberty in a small Canadian city where your father knows everyone and your on-again-off-again boyfriend quite literally lives on “the wrong side of the tracks”? That comes with an extra set of super-charged emotions and embarrassing moments—and Dawn is no stranger to any of it.

Denniveniquity is a darkly humorous coming-of-age graphic memoir by D. Boyd, creator of the award-nominated Chicken Rising. For this new tale, Boyd mined her old diaries and brought her 1970s teen years back to life, rekindling the excitement, joy, and anguish of these formative life experiences.

The post Denniveniquity appeared first on Read Quebec.

An aspiring cartoonist and book lovin’ lesbian, Louise works a dead-end day job at a shoe store, where she spends most of her time brooding over a coworker who will never quite love her back. By night, she works diligently and obsessively on her graphic novel—the true story of a carrier pigeon who rescued a battalion of soldiers in WWI.

When Louise unexpectedly lands a new job at a private library on the Upper East Side, she feels like her graphic novel will finally take off—surely the oldest library in New York has excellent holdings on pigeons and WWI. But what she finds in the stacks might be less revelatory than her discoveries between the sheets and buried in her own family history.

A graphic novel set against a perfectly cartoony NYC backdrop—complete with landmark haunts, street fashion, and quintessential characters of the city—Checked Out is at once a valentine to libraries and New York, and the story of an artist working to make her dreams come true. Drawn in a delightfully vivacious style, Checked Out buzzes with Katie Fricas’s vibrant energy, quick wit, and storytelling aplomb.

The post Checked Out appeared first on Read Quebec.

We arrive to wreckage—a restaurant smashed to rubble, with tables and chairs upended riotously. Under the swampy nighttime cover of a Montreal heat-wave, this is where we meet our protagonist, Cannon, dripping in little beads of regret sweat. She was supposed to be closing the restaurant for the night, but instead, well, she destroyed it. The mess feels a bit like a horror-scape—not unlike the horror films Cannon and her best friend, Trish, watch together. Cooking dinner and digging into deep cuts of Australian horror films on their scheduled weekly hangs has become the glue in their rote relationship. In high school, they were each other’s lifeline—two queer second-generation Chinese nerds trapped in the suburbs. Now, on the uncool side of their twenties, the essentialness of one another feels harder to pin down.

Yet, when our stoic and unbendingly well-behaved Cannon finds herself—very uncharacteristically—surrounded by smashed plates, it is Trish who shows up to pull her the hell outta there.

In Cannon, Lee Lai’s much anticipated follow-up to the critically-acclaimed and award-winning Stone Fruit, the full palette of a nervous breakdown is just a slice of what Lai has on offer. As Cannon’s shoulders bend under the weight of an aging Gung-gung and an avoidant mother, Lai’s sharp sense of humor and sensitive eye produce a story that will hit readers with a smash.

The post Cannon appeared first on Read Quebec.

But the comics industry had changed since Jack Tremblay found success, and Rick followed his heart into alt-comics. Mainstream cartoonists were already making less money, and alt-comic artists were making even less from their art—if anything at all. When Rick first moved out, he couch-hopped from one messy band rehearsal space to another, finally settling on a small apartment above a pool hall, where he worked on zines and wrote music—until he wasn’t able to make rent. This is just the first stop in a series of insecure housing situations made worse by gentrification.

In Gesticulating Gentrification, Trembles provides a close and honest look at the challenges faced by people living in precarious housing, the constant threat of being forced out by gentrification, and the social and health problems that result from all of it. But this graphic memoir isn’t only about social issues—it also provides a rare glimpse at a bygone version of Montreal and the DIY culture that thrived there.

The post Gesticulating Gentrification appeared first on Read Quebec.

The Waiting is the fictional story of Gwija, told by her novelist daughter Jina. When Gwija was 17 years old, after hearing that the Japanese were seizing unmarried girls, her family married her in a hurry to a man she didn’t know. Japan fell, Korea gained its independence, and the couple started a family. But peace didn’t come. The young family of four fled south. On the road, while breastfeeding and changing her daughter, Gwija was separated from her husband and son.

Then seventy years passed. Seventy years of waiting. Gwija is now an elderly woman and Jina can’t stop thinking about the promise she made to help find her brother.

Expertly translated from the Korean by the award-winning translator Janet Hong, The Waiting is the devastating followup to Gendry-Kim’s Grass, which appeared on best of the year lists from the New York Times, The Guardian, Library Journal, and more.

The post The Waiting appeared first on Read Quebec.

So Long Sad Love swaps out the wobbly transition of weaving a new existence into being post-heartbreak for the surprising effortlessness and simplicity of a life already rebuilt. Cleo not only rediscovers her identity as an artist but uncovers her capacity to find love where she has always been most at home: with other women.

Mirion Malle dares to tell a story with a happier ending in a stunning, full-color follow-up to the multi-award nominated This is How I Disappear. Translated by Governor General Literary Award nominee Aleshia Jensen, So Long Sad Love unabashedly skips to the good part and shines a light on just how rewarding following your bliss can be.

The post So Long Sad Love appeared first on Read Quebec.

Antonia is the sole inhabitant of a deserted town, with only a roaming pack of dogs and her own worn out memories to keep her company. Nothing is new in this world, the ponds are so still they are dead, and her recollections feel more vivid than her surroundings. At times, the isolation is unbearable. Until she meets her flower. Her flower gives her purpose: a reason to get up each morning, to ring the bells of the town, to wake up the fields, and to feel alive. And yet a relentless thought eats away at her—what will happen once her flower dies?

Her quest to save the flower begins alongside a charming traveler from the land of mirrors.The pair embark on a journey filled with music, swimming holes, and folk tales whispered late into the starry night. They march through the fields to the beat of turtledove calls, occasionally stopping to get drunk off the fruits of the strawberry tree. Slowly Antonia opens up to the world beyond her town, to the people who inhabit it—and to the endless possibilities of community and friendship.

One of Spain’s most successful contemporary illustrators, Maria Medem’s atmospheric storytelling bursts with sensorial delight—brimming with engrossing sounds, flavors, and tactile sensations. With impeccable line work and an enchanting use of color, Medem spins a heartfelt meditation on loneliness, friendship, and the transformative power of love.

Translated from Spanish by Aleshia Jensen and Daniela Ortiz.

The post Land of Mirrors appeared first on Read Quebec.

Peter is a misfit, an awkward 12-year-old who’s mercilessly bullied in school and quietly ignored at home. Peter’s lonely life in small-town New Zealand is upended by the arrival of Charlie, a badass girl who might just be the friend Peter has been needing… But when Peter’s bull-headed commitment to the truth brings him into conflict with Gus, a troubled and violent classmate, things quickly spiral out of control and the two boys find themselves in a terrifying situation neither of them could have ever imagined.

Drawn in a charming and disarmingly cartoony style and full of pitch-perfect dialogue, Tsunami is a devastating and hilarious coming-of-age story, a nuanced examination of adolescent alienation and the unpredictable consequences of our actions.

The post Tsunami appeared first on Read Quebec.

Showcasing stunning and inventive artwork by Boum (Boumeries), The Jellyfish is a tour-de-force of graphic storytelling, a powerful, occasionally terrifying story of facing the thing that we fear the most and finding a light to guide us through the darkness.

Translated by Robin Lang and Helge Dascher.

The post The Jellyfish appeared first on Read Quebec.