Mattie is working very hard to prepare us to survive a police state, and she lets us know starkly, with the anvil-over-the-head panache of a true cartoonist, that it will really only happen if we know that police are the monsters, serving the rich, and that (someone) might have to blow up police stations.
I appreciate her writing this trans guy who isn't really radicalized left because the options available for that have been foreclosed. In future NYC in this book, seawalls lock everyone in, ads blare down, and to get in to a job interview you have to have a humiliating medical scan and also psychological evaluation so you don't pose any risk to your potential employer, who is evil.
I love the tension between characters at Simplicity, and I like that this is a kind of anti-cult-story cult story, where the cult itself is not posing a threat to our main character-- it's an earnest method of surviving an increasingly harsh world, seen by the rich as an archeological artifact that is "not a threat" but still something to be crushed under development and expansion. I love that while there is suspicion, sadness, and incomplete social integration within the commune, the true danger really does come from the hostile, harmful world, and the tendrils of animal nature magic that chaotically split our hero from the vestiges of his commitment to employment in capitalism are ultimately benevolent. It's a sweet story about believing in a future in the face of unbearable violence.
Giving it five stars because I love Mattie's brain-- simultaneously, I want to make a note that I think there's a lot of depth left unplumbed in the world we get in this. Part of it comes from the format. Mattie's art style is easy going down, goofy, and smooth-- but the world this book is set in is one where nature mysticism brushes up against the tech oligarchies that she's been satirizing for years, and when it comes to that nature mysticism, I feel her style stretching and not quite matching the scope of her vision. For one thing, she ...doesn't draw very many plants, leaving us with the impression that the farm is feeding everyone from very empty raised dirt garden beds (I almost thought that the dirt beds were empty for plot related reasons and i think it is simply that she doesn't really want to draw the harvest). Likewise, trees and bushes look like very neutral clip art set pieces; the sense of "nature" we get in nature is just not very strong, except for the ecstatic renderings of the vines, leaves and horny deer beast which glows green and possesses one when one perceives a new way of existing. As with the plants, I think the framing of the story and its medium restricts what we really get to know about Simplicity, its philosophy, and the people who live there. I felt deeply curious about their hearts, their background, and the meaning of their love for each other, but we don't really get enough time with each of the people, or know how their different contexts brought them or their parents or grandparents to this way of life. It's a really idealized commune in many ways, before the murders start, and I think it's interesting to see Mattie (who is usually so pessimistic) rendering this kind of queer utopia but from, as it were, behind glass. I'm fascinated with the earnest vision here, with the two-page spread of nature god sex and with ALL the sex in this fairly horny but serious book, where trans bodies are rendered with medical straightforward goofy unflattering love.