The following is a guest post by Lewis Figun Westbrook.
I read Upstate with no idea what I was heading into and by the 8th page I was sucked into the world. Upstate by Stephen Pellnat is a queer unrefined look at returning home, feeling lost and all the emotional baggage that comes with that. The first couple pages show us Ryan Essen’s life in these snapshots. There are classrooms with children who don’t pay attention to her and Ryan meeting her new best friend, Amanda. There’s two graduations and fights. Sexual assault and the infamous “no, I like boys too” conversation. And this is just the set up. Things slowly build until the first break. The decision to head home after 14 years is a silent one and it’s presented with a low bank account balance and a surprisingly easy room to pack
I found parts of the set up a little slow. The snapshots kept us as readers at a distance and I think these characters really started to shine when we saw the full picture. When they were just living rather than parts of these pieces of flashbacks. On my second read, I really enjoyed seeing these tiny moments build up but it is a hard introduction when you don’t care about the characters yet.
The comic continues with Ryan struggling to keep her head above water. Scene after scene of her failing, of all the ways she’s disappointed the people around her and herself. In one of the scenes, she reads through her old writing. She’s disappointed both by her old stuff and her inability to write more. In most of the others, she’s trying to convince people she’s not drunk. It is such an honest look at failing that sometimes it’s a little scary. It is the definition of a lot and that is one of this story’s strengths.
Some of my favorite pages are the ones without any dialogue. I find myself holding my breath as I take in the imagery and everything that comes along with it. One particularly powerful page involves Ryan learning how her mother takes care of her sick father. He has cancer and has for years now. Normally, I am wary of sick loved one stories because they often come with a bucket full of ableism and the disability being treated purely as a plot device. I would be curious what other disabled people think, but something about this felt simpler. It was simply a fact of this universe, it feels realistic. Ryan struggled with her dad being sick but it felt accurate for the character rather than ableism from the writer seeping through.
From a technical standpoint I could edit this comic. But I don’t want to. Dialogue isn’t always centered and the bubble size often feels too big. And I love it. Sometimes a quiet word has the biggest impact. I keep thinking about the small “oh” surrounded by a bubble as big as Ryan as she finally faces something she’s been running from. I love the irony and symbolism of that.
The art style and black and white color palette also draws on this almost perfect imperfection. It brings to mind the idea of someone needing to get this story out. It breathes on the page and isn’t pretty, in the palatable way. I loved staring at the details and the way people particularly felt awkward or flawed. It made me care about them more.
I highly suggest Upstate but it does include a lot of difficult topics that make this an emotional read and one that could be triggering. Physical copies of Upstate can be found at Floating World Comics and Books With Pictures which are both located in Portland, or by reaching out to the author and visiting his website.