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A review by nglofile
Royal City Volume 1: Next of Kin by Jeff Lemire
5.0
Lemire is an artistic and narrative talent, no question, but what takes my breath away with each new venture is his insight into heartache and self-recrimination and family dynamic. Admittedly, none of these elements make for the most appealing of taglines or pull quotes, but it is the universality of these life struggles that compels the reader into the story's thrall.
There are times when we read for escapism, to cheer ourselves, or to take part in popular conversation. However, there is equal interest in reading to help make sense of the unexpected in life, of what doesn't turn out as we believe it might when we are children. This is one of those stories.
Forgive me if I paint the story as depressing. That wouldn't be fair. Melancholy, yes, but this is also a constellation of starting points. We meet the personalities where they are, learn their pain, and see the roads diverging in the wood ahead of them. We want them to find peace, perhaps even one day happiness, but we don't yet know where their feet will take them.
Each character is struggling individually with trials and disappointment, but what unites the cast beyond familial relationship is that each also is projecting a specific coloring of loss onto.
The frame of an industrial town reduced to a whimpering shadow of what it once was establishes both texture and realism. Much to explore.
The art is skillful and evocative, not in a showy way, but in a manner which best marries with story, tone, and theme. Stark line drawings (the few youth are pure and minimal; the older or world-weary are harsh and near-ghoulish) are set against pastel and grey-infused ink washes which add ethereal notes to the scenes. This isn't a collection I would seek out for its graphic style, but when I pause to notice I can't help but be a bit in awe.
There are times when we read for escapism, to cheer ourselves, or to take part in popular conversation. However, there is equal interest in reading to help make sense of the unexpected in life, of what doesn't turn out as we believe it might when we are children. This is one of those stories.
Forgive me if I paint the story as depressing. That wouldn't be fair. Melancholy, yes, but this is also a constellation of starting points. We meet the personalities where they are, learn their pain, and see the roads diverging in the wood ahead of them. We want them to find peace, perhaps even one day happiness, but we don't yet know where their feet will take them.
Each character is struggling individually with trials and disappointment, but what unites the cast beyond familial relationship is that each also is projecting a specific coloring of loss onto
Spoiler
the presence of a son/brother who had long ago passed away, whose hauntings are both welcome and utterly revealingThe frame of an industrial town reduced to a whimpering shadow of what it once was establishes both texture and realism. Much to explore.
The art is skillful and evocative, not in a showy way, but in a manner which best marries with story, tone, and theme. Stark line drawings (the few youth are pure and minimal; the older or world-weary are harsh and near-ghoulish) are set against pastel and grey-infused ink washes which add ethereal notes to the scenes. This isn't a collection I would seek out for its graphic style, but when I pause to notice I can't help but be a bit in awe.