Perhaps what is most impactful about this book is how Bechdel can use theology, literature, and philosophy to peel back the messy, entangled layers of personal and familial silence. There is more to this book than an exploration of shame, sexuality, and grief, Bechdel is almost as intangible as the portraits of her family she paints (literally and metaphorically). Her use of literary language opens up possibilities for her to undercut her obvious wit with humor, unease, and deep pathos.
The medium of a graphic memoir is an interesting, but important one. Small, square panels move along the scenes, allowing Bechdel to add jokes and details that would otherwise halt the narrative (for example, when her father enters the car holding a bag of Sunbeam bread). On the other hand, longer rectangular panels let Bechdel show a scene or let the reader marinate in a significant point in her or her family's history. Even the color choice is specific, mirroring the same distaste for color that Bechdel mentions having for most of her life. The dusty blue that ranges in shade lends itself the solemnity of tone while reflecting the parts of Bechdel's personality she tells us with words in and around the gutters of her panels.
Bechdel's use of language in the memoir is a double-edged sword. As mentioned before, it allows for moments of humor and heightens certain emotions Bechdel is attempting to convey, but it also isolates her from the reader. At times it feels almost impenetrable, like her language is putting up a barrier between her and not just the reader, but everyone. In part, this negatively impacts the opening for a reader to truly understand and empathize with the complex themes of the book (loss and grief, finding an identity that is socially unwelcomed, betrayal, and shame). Just as she writes her parents to be almost fictional and entirely intangible, her language does the same thing here. Part of me isn't sure how purposeful it is either, as the book feels like it possibly was never meant to be read as anything other than a thematic journal. But it is the persistence of her language that keeps this book from being a full five stars for me.
