To be released at the end of July from publisher Pantheon Books, Mattie Lubchansky’s graphic novel Simplicity is set in the year 2081 and follows shy but passionate academic, Lucius, as he ventures out of the futuristic, walled security territory of New York. He leaves in order to carry out a mission, a mission to learn more about a cult which operates outside the established societal norms. Although initially doing so for purely scholastic purposes, Lucius soon finds himself more wrapped up in this world than he expected.
Our protagonist is a transgender man, his journey reflecting larger concepts of gender, capitalism, oppression, and the environment. Through Lubchansky’s narrative, we see not only how gender nonconformity is both freeing and dangerous but also how the wealthy prey on and profit from the more vulnerable communities they exploit. It is an extremely political novel. Don’t let the bizarre monsters or trance-like ritual sequences fool you – this is a book about our reality.
Apart from the aforementioned creatures, most of the illustrations are like the title: simple. Lubchansky’s art style is one that appeals to many of their fans due to this simplistic and cartoonish look. Personally, the use of colour is by far the most appealing aspect of the drawings as vivid choices are used to great effect, especially for the monsters, which radiate otherness. The layout, too, is relatively basic for the most part; generally, the story is told through the classic grid format. It works well here though, the tiles representative of the boxes we are forced into by society.
I also appreciate how Lubchansky doesn’t flinch away from showing the nude transgender and gender nonconforming bodies of their characters. They are allowed to just exist as they are, drawn in an accepting, understanding, and authentic way by the artist. It is refreshing representation considering how far too often trans bodies are criticised and politicised. However, for me, the art style is a bit too stripped back (no pun intended), particularly when it comes to the settings.
The style is limiting, despite Lubchansky’s obvious passionate efforts to build this futuristic world. The work blends several genres, including elements of science fiction; science fiction can really benefit from fleshing out those more intricate details to paint a fuller picture of the complexities of the imagined world and I don’t think the style fully allows for that. That said, as I have previously noted, Lubchansky has fans, fans who love the style which has become characteristic of their work, as seen in Boys Weekend and The Antifa Super-soldier Cookbook, so I can understand why they would prefer to stay consistent and wouldn’t want to stray from their brand.
It’s a quick read and I certainly recommend giving it a go if you’re interested in work which centralises LGBTQ+ characters, is steeped in political metaphor, and has a bunch of bloodthirsty beasts running rampant to boot.
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