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davygibbs's review
2.0
The first 85% of this book is a big big dose of downer that a superficial and moralizing final act doesn't really justify. Love his clean lines, always have, but there's got to be better book ideas in his head than this one.
nickoftheparty's review
4.0
Good stuff. I laughed out loud more than once. And some lactose-intolerant representation!
agnesnutter's review against another edition
2.0
Beautifully drawn, but also very self indulgent in a way that felt... hollow. Maybe graphic novel memoirs that have such a deep focus on the one person just aren't for me.
saidtheraina's review
4.0
The ending of this book totally made it for me.
I've read a lot of autobio comics. I love them, as a rule. But autobio graphic novels are -- inevitably, definitionally -- written almost exclusively by cartoonists. And, like most or many professions, a fair number of cartoonists have similar day-to-day concerns.
So some of the stories Tomine tells - some of the anecdotes in this book - feel extremely familiar.
One thing that influences my perspective of this work is that cartooning (in the United States), like most industries, has been dominated by White heterosexual cisgendered male humans over the last century. So, many times, these kinds of stories are told by privileged White people.
I make an effort to consume works created by people with marginalized perspectives, so while I do make exceptions to that preference when I'm reading adult comics frequently, it often feels a bit uncomfortable. When I read autobiographies, the demographics of the person are obvious. Often part of the story. So I feel a sense of discomfort when I'm reading something autobiographical, because when I do that, the schism between my reading priorities and my reading choices is the most glaring.
Tomine is not White. But the experiences he recounts here are mostly along the same lines as the stories I've read by and about White cartoonists. So something in my brain was triggered and I felt the same kind of discomfort as I describe above as I read most of the book.
But then we got to that ending. In the closing section, Tomine brings it all together. Talks about choosing a path, and balance, and passion, and priorities, and being really good at one thing. Big issues that affect most people who have choices in life.
I was a theatre major in college. Music major too, for a couple of years. It was a big pivotal mindfuck of a decision when I "left" the arts (you never really leave the arts) to become a Librarian. In a lot of ways I felt like I was settling for a smaller life. Obviously my feelings about that decision have changed and evolved over the years. But I really picked up what he was putting down when he started reflecting on how he got where he is.
I don't feel the need to comment on the illustrations here. Tomine has a brand, and this is that. Black and white throughout.
I love the design of the book itself, however. It's styled as a moleskin, complete with attached bookmark ribbon and elastic bookmark band. The inside pages have blue graph-paper-style lines.
Including it on my graphic-novel-travelogues shelf because of all the touring he depicts, even though he rarely covers the traveling nitty-gritty.
I've read a lot of autobio comics. I love them, as a rule. But autobio graphic novels are -- inevitably, definitionally -- written almost exclusively by cartoonists. And, like most or many professions, a fair number of cartoonists have similar day-to-day concerns.
So some of the stories Tomine tells - some of the anecdotes in this book - feel extremely familiar.
One thing that influences my perspective of this work is that cartooning (in the United States), like most industries, has been dominated by White heterosexual cisgendered male humans over the last century. So, many times, these kinds of stories are told by privileged White people.
I make an effort to consume works created by people with marginalized perspectives, so while I do make exceptions to that preference when I'm reading adult comics frequently, it often feels a bit uncomfortable. When I read autobiographies, the demographics of the person are obvious. Often part of the story. So I feel a sense of discomfort when I'm reading something autobiographical, because when I do that, the schism between my reading priorities and my reading choices is the most glaring.
Tomine is not White. But the experiences he recounts here are mostly along the same lines as the stories I've read by and about White cartoonists. So something in my brain was triggered and I felt the same kind of discomfort as I describe above as I read most of the book.
But then we got to that ending. In the closing section, Tomine brings it all together. Talks about choosing a path, and balance, and passion, and priorities, and being really good at one thing. Big issues that affect most people who have choices in life.
I was a theatre major in college. Music major too, for a couple of years. It was a big pivotal mindfuck of a decision when I "left" the arts (you never really leave the arts) to become a Librarian. In a lot of ways I felt like I was settling for a smaller life. Obviously my feelings about that decision have changed and evolved over the years. But I really picked up what he was putting down when he started reflecting on how he got where he is.
I don't feel the need to comment on the illustrations here. Tomine has a brand, and this is that. Black and white throughout.
I love the design of the book itself, however. It's styled as a moleskin, complete with attached bookmark ribbon and elastic bookmark band. The inside pages have blue graph-paper-style lines.
Including it on my graphic-novel-travelogues shelf because of all the touring he depicts, even though he rarely covers the traveling nitty-gritty.
helpfulsnowman's review
3.0
This is pretty good, and I don't always like embarrassing stories because they remind me of MY OWN embarrassing stories, which I do just fine reminding MYSELF of, thank you.
What is it about saying or doing something dumb when you're 7 that never leaves you? This must be the secret sauce that successful people have, they can leave that shit behind and not spend so much brain power worrying about it because, I mean, what are you gonna do? Invent a time machine and go back and not do something that was unfortunate, not horrible, but you're not proud of? That'd be fuckin' nuts. Nobody would endorse doing that over preventing the Holocaust or whatever, but I think a lot of us would consider it...
I mean, we could always justify it by saying, "Hey, if I stop the Holocaust, what ripples will that have in history?" Meanwhile, if I just avoid a minor embarrassment, sure, there's the Butterfly Effect and everything (capitalized because I'm talking about the Ashton Kutcher movie version, not the theory), but I have a feeling that not being an embarrassment to myself for the rest of my life probably won't cause something worse to happen, right? Maybe?
It seems worth the risk, anyway.
This is me officially declaring that I will go back in time and not be shirtless in a play in junior high school instead of preventing the Holocaust. And then I'll have a new, far more reasonable thing to be ashamed of. Which works because I'd like to give a try to being ashamed about something actually shameful. Seems like a new way of living at least.
What is it about saying or doing something dumb when you're 7 that never leaves you? This must be the secret sauce that successful people have, they can leave that shit behind and not spend so much brain power worrying about it because, I mean, what are you gonna do? Invent a time machine and go back and not do something that was unfortunate, not horrible, but you're not proud of? That'd be fuckin' nuts. Nobody would endorse doing that over preventing the Holocaust or whatever, but I think a lot of us would consider it...
I mean, we could always justify it by saying, "Hey, if I stop the Holocaust, what ripples will that have in history?" Meanwhile, if I just avoid a minor embarrassment, sure, there's the Butterfly Effect and everything (capitalized because I'm talking about the Ashton Kutcher movie version, not the theory), but I have a feeling that not being an embarrassment to myself for the rest of my life probably won't cause something worse to happen, right? Maybe?
It seems worth the risk, anyway.
This is me officially declaring that I will go back in time and not be shirtless in a play in junior high school instead of preventing the Holocaust. And then I'll have a new, far more reasonable thing to be ashamed of. Which works because I'd like to give a try to being ashamed about something actually shameful. Seems like a new way of living at least.
gmoran's review
3.0
I felt that the story kinda slogged, though I guess that's his life. I also felt the artistic choice to have the blue graph paper feel on the page backgrounds was sometimes distracting and made it difficult to read.
taniguchi's review
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
4.0
This frequently hilarious memoir-in-anecdotes is a potent reminder that many obsessive artists are, in fact, fucking psychos.
thenextgenlib's review
This graphic novel was very angry and weird and I just felt uncomfortable throughout the entire thing. Not a fan and won’t recommend it for #MaverickList