![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() The fact that the family does endure is impressive, and this book demonstrates how art can transmute suffering into literature. I was inspired by some of the big graphic memoirs like Maus by Art Spiegelman and Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi, shared Bui with The Mary Sue. Moss’s deliberately naive drawings effectively accompany her painfully direct text. Harvey shuts off human contact, desperate to finish the art history research that has been his life’s work Moss is distracted, clinging to her own sanity but horrified to realize how their mutual trust and tenderness are disappearing bit by bit. This is not a sentimental story of how suffering ennobles people. An uninformed or uncaring medical establishment doesn’t know how to help Harvey cope, leaving his wife to assimilate the physical and emotional changes in their lives. Deeply affecting and harrowing, Moss’s narrative of her husband’s struggle with Lou Gehrig’s disease begins with Harvey feeling a little out of breath while walking with his wife and sons in Rome, then races through a description of his awful deterioration over the next seven months. ![]()
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