I won’t bury the lede and will come right out and tell you
this is an excellent book, and stands among the best comics, mainstream or
indie, that I’ve read this year. (I’ll wink here to editor David Schilter and
say that having just attended the ceremony at San Diego Comic Con for the
20-something-eth year, work like this should be submitted for Eisner Award
consideration if not already done so.)
Transgender Homebody was a joy to
consume, using shapes and lines that almost coalesce into recognizable forms
just on the periphery of our understanding, in an effect that must mirror the
disorienting sensation of gender dysphoria. It’s a smartly constructed work
that plays off of voyeurism, exhibitionism, (non?)consensuality, the edging and
the erotic, with in your face with sumptuous lines like “i squirt on his pussy.”
Generally, I’m not a fan of quoting a bunch of dialogue in a review, preferring
to leave much for the reader to discover on their own. But with charged prose
like this, my descriptions just won’t do it justice. There’s a gorgeous purple
and seemingly engorged two-page spread that reads: “he proposes to my T-dick.
he marries my throat. he commits to my identity, until I girlboss all over his
face.” Sadly, by the end, everything seems to be fleeting and transitory, but
oh the journey.
Transgender Homebody revels in the brinksmanship of leaning
into gender identity and affirmation as raw kinky turn-on, and seriously, what
is hotter than seeing someone for who they truly are and accepting them with
all-in joie de vivre? I love this book.
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