Given that this was released in early May, I can't help but wonder if the publisher meant to capitalize on the buzz around Brian Fies's Mom's Cancer, an award-winning online comic that was released in print form earlier this year. Regardless of the publisher's intent, comparisons between the two works are unavoidable, and unfortunately, it's creator Miriam Engelberg, not Fies, that gets the short end of the stick. Engelberg's book about her cancer experiences and relationships with others pales in comparison, both in terms of writing and art. The most off-putting aspect of this book is the crudeness of the art. Engelberg dubs herself a cartoonist, but it's clear she has no real eye for the craft. Usually, when one finds a creator with such a flat, child-like style, there's a greater level of energy, inventiveness or wit behind it that compensates for it (Dilbert's Scott Adams comes to mind), but that's not the case here.
Miriam has a satisfying, comfortable life. Married with a child, she has a job she enjoys with people she likes, and all seems right with the world. And everything changes when she's diagnosed with breast cancer. From chemo sessions to support groups, from awkward, invasive questions to insomnia-inducing self-criticism, her time and thoughts are overrun by a new reality. Miriam desperately needs an escape from the emotional roller-coaster she's unwillingly riding, and that escape takes the form of pop-culture crosswords and trash TV.
I work as a reporter for a daily newspaper, and I fill in as an editor from time to time as well. On occasion, we get a new intern or a stringer from a rural area signing on to write, and in some of these cases, when I get a look at their raw copy, I get annoyed. I've seen stuff that's unintelligible, sloppy and unprofessional. There's this perception that anyone can write, and it's just not true. I'm well trained and quite good at what I do, and I take umbrage at the notion that the training and natural skill just isn't necessary. That's how I felt about Engelberg's artwork on this book. It lacks any true style or sense of design. I'm not looking for perfect anatomy or perspective from her cartooning, but something beyond the crude scribblings of a sixth-grader would be welcome. Engelberg's figures don't emote well at all, and this is a book about a woman's fight against cancer. Emotion is rather important, but overt expressions and subtler ones. I realize these comments are harsh, but readers are being asked to shell out quite a number of dollars for this book, and it seems to me that the writer could have partnered with someone with some degree of skill or flair for visual storytelling.
There's a lack of cohesiveness and flow to Engelberg's storytelling as well. She jumps from one subject to another, and while we saw Brian Fies do the same in Mom's Cancer, there still seemed to be a greater sense of flow and planning to those choices. It doesn't help that the book's design isn't as overt as it could be in delineating the separate chapters. The grey font for the small chapter headings just isn't that eye-catching.
Engelberg's recounting of her cancer experience is definitely personal, even self-centered, but I suppose that's to be expected. She says right in the book's title that this is about focusing on self, on being "shallower." I enjoyed her honesty; she's says up front that she didn't find any deep meaning or spirituality as a result of her life-changing experience. But the lack of depth in those experiences shines through in the book, as she ends up repeating the same ideas over and over. The redundancy of the writing left me uninterested by the middle of the book. 3/10
Note: This graphic novel was not among this week's new releases.
