'90s period pieces, whether in comics or movies, are still fairly rare. Considering that my junior high, high school, and most of my college years were spent in that halcyon decade, I have an endless affinity for artwork that examines that era. So, when the fine folks at Fantagraphics gave me the opportunity to look at Briana Loewinsohn’s latest graphic novel before it hits the shelf at your LCS, I enthusiastically accepted. See, Raised by Ghosts is a semi-autobiographical account of Loewinsohn’s teenage years in the early and mid-’90s. I was not familiar with her previous work, but after reading that description and seeing her lush and expressive artwork, I knew I had to read it.
A brief note for clarity: Going forward, if I say “Briana,” I am referring to the character in the story, and if I say “Loewinsohn” or “Briana Loewinsohn,” I am referring to the author. Now, let’s get on with it, shall we?
The book opens with Briana struggling in school and feeling isolated from her peers. Her parents are also largely absent from her everyday existence. Her loneliness and general confusion are communicated to us via thoughtful diary entries. By the end of 8th grade, though, she seems to have found her tribe. This section, covering ’91 to ’94, is fairly short and encompasses only 18 of the book’s 200+ pages.
In high school, Briana still has trouble mustering interest in her studies, but her personal relationships blossom. She trades mixtapes with friends, watches movies with them, and goes to parties. When she’s alone in her room, she journals and works on her artwork. It’s an accounting of one American teenager’s mundane life, but it’s intensely relatable because of Loewinsohn’s ability to conjure earnest authenticity. She deftly avoids sentimentality, and the text never devolves into melancholy angst, either. She worries and dreams and wanders the streets of Berkeley while listening to music on her headphones, but she always seems present in her own head.
This is communicated to the reader through journal entries, but the main motif of the book is that long-lost art form known as note writing. Before texting made the practice obsolete, teens would compose handwritten notes for their friends, often intricately folded to deter prying eyes. Sometimes these missives would just be gossip, sometimes they’d recount how the day has been going, and sometimes they’d be something artier. I still have a couple of boxes filled with notes from friends, exes, and teammates. I’m digressing, but it’s hard not to get swept away by Loewinsohn’s evocative reconstruction of a time that I remember quite fondly (she is slightly younger than me, for what it’s worth).
Note-writing and journaling aren’t just implied in the narrative, though. They are part of the experience. Loewinsohn mostly uses single-page splashes and four-panel grids, but this method is extensively broken up by images of journal entries and notes, often on scraps of torn notebook paper. It’s a stylistic choice that draws us into Briana’s inner world while sometimes making the visuals hit more like a collage than a straight-up narrative. There is also an extended sequence that focuses on Briana’s art, which almost feels like surrealist animation. Beyond Loewinsohn’s obvious storytelling and character design talents, these aspects demonstrate her innate grasp of the medium and its endless possibilities. This could’ve just been yet another bland coming-of-age memoir, but Loewinsohn’s affinity for a bygone cultural practice and her willingness to break from convention makes for a visually pleasing read.
As for the writing, Briana is a compelling character. I was definitely engaged in her journey. Her friends are decently fleshed out, but the book is clearly focused on Briana, so we really only get glimpses of them here and there as she interacts with them. Dialogue is naturalistic, although it too is subject to stylization. For instance, when Briana is not paying attention to what a teacher is saying in school, their speech bubbles just have a series of vertical dashes. The effect is similar to how adults sound in old Charlie Brown cartoons (which is directly referenced at one point). Additionally, her parents never fully appear on the page. They communicate with Briana through closed doors and from off-panel. This symbolic absence and its literal implications are where I think the book derives its title.
Briana Loewinsohn’s Raised by Ghosts is described by Fantagraphics as a YA graphic novel, but this middle-aged reader thoroughly enjoyed it. While it carefully deploys elements of ’90s American teen culture, it doesn’t just trade on nostalgia. The beautiful artwork, awash in subdued earth tones, creates an atmospheric read that envelops you in young Briana’s specific but not exclusionary world. The complexities of the emotional component of the story and the relatively dense blocks of text may put it beyond the grasp of younger readers, but I do think this is a book that just about anyone could enjoy. The book itself is a soft cover with a nicely embossed title and thick pages. It is $18.99 and is set to be released on February 4th. Raised by Ghosts comes highly recommended for fans of My Favorite Thing Is Monsters, Loving, Ohio, and The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist.
Michael Cavender