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Simplicity
NATIONAL BESTSELLER • From the acclaimed author of horror sensation Boys Weekend, a vibrant new graphic novel about a timid academic sent out from the walled dystopian security territory of New York City to investigate a cult in the wilds of the Catskill Mountains
"Mattie Lubchansky is a genius.”—Kristen Arnett, New York Times bestselling author of Mostly Dead Things and With Teeth
"[Lubchansky] blends dystopian science fiction and folk horror into a queer, trans story of hard-won hope in a future as terrifying—and as ridiculous—as our present. Sexy, insightful, and darkly funny.”—Lindsay King-Miller, author of The Z Word
In 1977, a group called The Spiritual Association of Peers decamps to the woods of the Catskills, taking over an abandoned summer camp. They name their new home Simplicity.
In 2081, scholar Lucius Pasternak, a fastidiously organized trans man, tries to keep his head down living in the New York City Administrative and Security Territory, which was founded after the formal dissolution of the United States in 2041. Then, he's offered a job by the mayor, billionaire real estate developer Dennis Van Wervel, to complete an anthropological survey of the people of Simplicity for a history museum he's financing. A wary Lucius is nevertheless drawn in by the people of the small wooded community, intrigued by its strange rituals and in particular by the charming acolyte Amity Crown-Shy. Born and raised on the compound, Amity is comfortable in their own skin, a striking contrast to Lucius' repressed reserve. But Lucius' control starts to slip when he begins to suffer visions both terrifying and sensual—visits from beautiful but nightmarish creatures.
Then, just as Lucius discovers that Van Wervel's project is more sinister than it seemed, members of the community begin to disappear, leaving behind grisly signs of struggle. The denizens of Simplicity believe that a being they call “The Lamentation” is responsible for the attacks. Amity and Lucius set out to hunt for the creature in the dangerous Exurb Zones, a wild wood full of libertarian doomsday preppers, wealthy isolationists, and worse. There, they'll finally discover the true threat to their way of life—and what they're willing to do to stop it.
"Mattie Lubchansky is a genius.”—Kristen Arnett, New York Times bestselling author of Mostly Dead Things and With Teeth
"[Lubchansky] blends dystopian science fiction and folk horror into a queer, trans story of hard-won hope in a future as terrifying—and as ridiculous—as our present. Sexy, insightful, and darkly funny.”—Lindsay King-Miller, author of The Z Word
In 1977, a group called The Spiritual Association of Peers decamps to the woods of the Catskills, taking over an abandoned summer camp. They name their new home Simplicity.
In 2081, scholar Lucius Pasternak, a fastidiously organized trans man, tries to keep his head down living in the New York City Administrative and Security Territory, which was founded after the formal dissolution of the United States in 2041. Then, he's offered a job by the mayor, billionaire real estate developer Dennis Van Wervel, to complete an anthropological survey of the people of Simplicity for a history museum he's financing. A wary Lucius is nevertheless drawn in by the people of the small wooded community, intrigued by its strange rituals and in particular by the charming acolyte Amity Crown-Shy. Born and raised on the compound, Amity is comfortable in their own skin, a striking contrast to Lucius' repressed reserve. But Lucius' control starts to slip when he begins to suffer visions both terrifying and sensual—visits from beautiful but nightmarish creatures.
Then, just as Lucius discovers that Van Wervel's project is more sinister than it seemed, members of the community begin to disappear, leaving behind grisly signs of struggle. The denizens of Simplicity believe that a being they call “The Lamentation” is responsible for the attacks. Amity and Lucius set out to hunt for the creature in the dangerous Exurb Zones, a wild wood full of libertarian doomsday preppers, wealthy isolationists, and worse. There, they'll finally discover the true threat to their way of life—and what they're willing to do to stop it.
272 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 29, 2025
18 people are currently reading
3770 people want to read
About the author
Mattie Lubchansky
10 books159 followersMattie Lubchansky is a cartoonist and illustrator living in Queens, NY. Her work has appeared in The Nib, New York Magazine, VICE, Eater, Mad Magazine, Gothamist, The Toast, The Hairpin, Brooklyn Magazine, and their long-running webcomic Please Listen to Me. They are the co-author of Dad Magazine (Quirk, 2016), and the author of The Antifa Supersoldier Cookbook (Silver Sprocket, 2021), Boys Weekend (2023, Pantheon), and Simplicity (2025, Pantheon).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 138 reviews
October 18, 2025
Very smart dystopian world building with a distinctly anti-facist bent and a compelling main character who is an anthropologist who "goes native" while visiting an off-grid survivalist society called "Simplicity." Mattie Lubchansky is very funny and her art is very fun, cartoonish but also emotionally compelling. Plus T4T romance!
August 13, 2025
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.
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.
January 25, 2026
I liked Dances With Wolves better when it didn't have all the orgies and damned useless dream sequences in it.
(Best of 2025 Project: I'm reading all the graphic novels that made it onto one or more of these lists:
• Washington Post 10 Best Graphic Novels of 2025
• Publishers Weekly 2025 Graphic Novel Critics Poll
• NPR's Books We Love 2025: Favorite Comics and Graphic Novels
This book made the NPR and PW lists.)
(Best of 2025 Project: I'm reading all the graphic novels that made it onto one or more of these lists:
• Washington Post 10 Best Graphic Novels of 2025
• Publishers Weekly 2025 Graphic Novel Critics Poll
• NPR's Books We Love 2025: Favorite Comics and Graphic Novels
This book made the NPR and PW lists.)
June 26, 2025
In a semi-distant future not unlike right now, actually, America has drastically devolved into fascism and chaos. States are walled-off and monitored with big swaths of land between them. Anthropology student, Lucius Pasternak is hired by NY to venture into the Catskill Mountains to study a thriving hippie commune that has been active since the 70s and seems untouched by real world issues and changes.
I love how Lucius, a trans man, starts off as an outsider/observer but finds himself assimilating into the community and agreeing with their way of life.
The illustrations of the commune as so fun! I enjoyed exploring all the little details. Of course I knew right away, given the title and the cover, that the commune would reveal a dark side.
The book is a lot of things all at once. It touches on cult vibes, if that interests you but leans more into "commune than cult"--shared beliefs and practices rather than leader-led "religious" fanaticism. There's folk horror holding hands with cosmic horror. Commentary on sociopolitical issues, thoughts on queer identities and sexuality, And it's really, really horny lol
I enjoyed it! Fun read for Pride Month and anytime :)
I love how Lucius, a trans man, starts off as an outsider/observer but finds himself assimilating into the community and agreeing with their way of life.
The illustrations of the commune as so fun! I enjoyed exploring all the little details. Of course I knew right away, given the title and the cover, that the commune would reveal a dark side.
The book is a lot of things all at once. It touches on cult vibes, if that interests you but leans more into "commune than cult"--shared beliefs and practices rather than leader-led "religious" fanaticism. There's folk horror holding hands with cosmic horror. Commentary on sociopolitical issues, thoughts on queer identities and sexuality, And it's really, really horny lol
I enjoyed it! Fun read for Pride Month and anytime :)
December 28, 2025
I'm just gonna read everything Mattie Lubchansky does and that's just how it is.
This is weirder and looser than Boys Weekend, more vibes than plot even though there's plenty of plot. Doesn't play by the rules or do what you expect, always goes weirder and harder. Even more queer, too.
This is weirder and looser than Boys Weekend, more vibes than plot even though there's plenty of plot. Doesn't play by the rules or do what you expect, always goes weirder and harder. Even more queer, too.
October 5, 2025
so many butts
September 29, 2025
When I sit at my desk working or still have to do laundry as world crisis after crisis happens, it feels absurd. Lubchansky is one of the leading voices who perfectly encapsulates how very absurd and disconnected this moment in time feels. Simplicity is set in a world slightly ahead of our own (2081), but deeply entrenched in its own chaos, patterned after echoes of now. Both art and text capture relatable moments, even if her characters are involved in situations we aren’t, like running away from genetically-modified beasts created for the rich to hunt. (The elephants are so last century.)
Lucius is simultaneously everyone who’s worked for a place they suspected was actually evil and a highly specific trans guy from the future. He’s sent to “study” The Spiritual Association of Peers, a group of hippies who broke off from society in the 1970s and live in the Catskills. Of course, he wants to figure out if their sex rituals are true, and of course, he and Amity (a trans woman who’s training to become their spiritual leader) start fucking.
The moment Lucius’ gender breaks the company’s AI “health” machine that’s clearing him to go on this trip, you know that he cannot complete his task in full. As the truth comes out about mysterious deaths in the community and the company’s ultimate plans, Lucius and Amity face what was always perhaps their destiny.
I had to read the epilogue twice, which I found the weakest part of the book. It ends on a perfect note, more about society’s cycles in the kind of American capitalism we cling to, but the delivery felt off, perhaps because I wanted for Lucius and Amity what I want for every trans person: joy and peace to just live our lives.
Lucius is simultaneously everyone who’s worked for a place they suspected was actually evil and a highly specific trans guy from the future. He’s sent to “study” The Spiritual Association of Peers, a group of hippies who broke off from society in the 1970s and live in the Catskills. Of course, he wants to figure out if their sex rituals are true, and of course, he and Amity (a trans woman who’s training to become their spiritual leader) start fucking.
The moment Lucius’ gender breaks the company’s AI “health” machine that’s clearing him to go on this trip, you know that he cannot complete his task in full. As the truth comes out about mysterious deaths in the community and the company’s ultimate plans, Lucius and Amity face what was always perhaps their destiny.
I had to read the epilogue twice, which I found the weakest part of the book. It ends on a perfect note, more about society’s cycles in the kind of American capitalism we cling to, but the delivery felt off, perhaps because I wanted for Lucius and Amity what I want for every trans person: joy and peace to just live our lives.
December 31, 2024
First off, thank you so much to NetGalley, Pantheon Publishing and Author/Illustrator Mattie Lubchansky for the opportunity to read and review this advanced reader copy of Simplicity.
We live in an interesting time; I know, understatement of the year. I find myself looking back at the “Dystopian” novels that I read in my youth and finding them hard to go back to because they now feel too close to reality. Now call me a radical if you will, but it’s getting scary out there. Mattie Lubchansky, author and illustrator of Simplicity, has re-energized my love of this genre, while inflaming my radicalization and class consciousness.
The setting is a really good “glimpse” into the near future, a possible dystopia of what comes after the US. I like how the main character Lucius, has a naivety that is recognizable and understandable to the reader, when looking at the commune of Simplicity (SAP), and the corporation that he works for. It reminds me of the way that sometimes as liberals and more progressive thinkers, we can idolize, or even essentialize, groups merely for the fact that they aren’t of the norm and how that ends up being reductive. In the case of the SAP folk, this is quickly disproven by this community being a lot more than what we think it is. I really like the characterization of the corporation that Lucius is working for because it strips away all of the green-washing that our modern-day capital class likes to hide behind. What starts as a corporation that looks like they are saving history for posterity, quickly melts away to the soul-less, money-obsessed monopolies that we know and live with in our everyday lives. It’s like when Jeff Bezos (or insert the vapid billionaire of your choosing) sets up a foundation or gives a lot of money for some charity. They purport themselves as these great benevolent paragons of righteousness, when in reality they are basically gilding their own image so we don’t really look into why they are so insanely wealthy? But I digress…
I loved reading this graphic novel. It hits all the notes of class-consciousness, queer representation/acceptance and self-discovery all while doing so in a way that stays relevant to the reader. It brings resolution while still showing the unfortunate situations that we find ourselves in. As Amity put it, “ There’s no such thing as leaving the world is there? … We’re in the world. The choice has already been made for us.” I guess in the end, it is a story of survival and of adapting the best we can to stay alive; culturally, spiritually, physically. I am very excited to see what Mattie comes up with next!
We live in an interesting time; I know, understatement of the year. I find myself looking back at the “Dystopian” novels that I read in my youth and finding them hard to go back to because they now feel too close to reality. Now call me a radical if you will, but it’s getting scary out there. Mattie Lubchansky, author and illustrator of Simplicity, has re-energized my love of this genre, while inflaming my radicalization and class consciousness.
The setting is a really good “glimpse” into the near future, a possible dystopia of what comes after the US. I like how the main character Lucius, has a naivety that is recognizable and understandable to the reader, when looking at the commune of Simplicity (SAP), and the corporation that he works for. It reminds me of the way that sometimes as liberals and more progressive thinkers, we can idolize, or even essentialize, groups merely for the fact that they aren’t of the norm and how that ends up being reductive. In the case of the SAP folk, this is quickly disproven by this community being a lot more than what we think it is. I really like the characterization of the corporation that Lucius is working for because it strips away all of the green-washing that our modern-day capital class likes to hide behind. What starts as a corporation that looks like they are saving history for posterity, quickly melts away to the soul-less, money-obsessed monopolies that we know and live with in our everyday lives. It’s like when Jeff Bezos (or insert the vapid billionaire of your choosing) sets up a foundation or gives a lot of money for some charity. They purport themselves as these great benevolent paragons of righteousness, when in reality they are basically gilding their own image so we don’t really look into why they are so insanely wealthy? But I digress…
I loved reading this graphic novel. It hits all the notes of class-consciousness, queer representation/acceptance and self-discovery all while doing so in a way that stays relevant to the reader. It brings resolution while still showing the unfortunate situations that we find ourselves in. As Amity put it, “ There’s no such thing as leaving the world is there? … We’re in the world. The choice has already been made for us.” I guess in the end, it is a story of survival and of adapting the best we can to stay alive; culturally, spiritually, physically. I am very excited to see what Mattie comes up with next!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 26, 2026
LOVED the art. Fun, colorful, cartoony, and expressive. Brings to mind Matt Groening and John Allison.
LOVED that there's more trans and genderqueer characters than you can shake a stick at.
LOVED the framing device with the kids in the museum.
LIKED the first half of the book with the Spiritual Association of Peers, a secretive community/cult that lives in the lawless exurbs outside the New York City Administrative and Security Territory and refuses to talk to the researcher sent to research them.
LIKED our hapless trans man Lucius Pasternak, researcher, who's just trying to do his job.
NOT KEEN on the second half of the book with the visions and the monster(s) as a metaphor for, idk, self-loathing or capitalism or whatever. It's not a trope I have a natural affinity for and this didn't sell me on it. I want real monsters or I want self-loathing, but don't outsource the problem. The romance also felt whatever. There was chemistry between them, but little else.
UNSATISFIED by the ending, which seems to be resolved in passing by two randos, but also raises a lot of big questions that go unanswered and left me skeptical.
IN SHORT, the first half is kind of a mystery where you're getting to know the players and the setting, and the second half is a kind of gory fairy tale where it's about types of people and social movements, big picture stuff, and I felt like it didn't really match up with the first half.
BUT I'm always glad to read something from Lubchansky and this was a fun way to spend some time.
CONTAINS: some misgendering, including from the robotic health care system; nudity; sex; animal harm (scraggly and aggressive wild bear); violence; cartoon blood and guts; cartoon cops and their cartoon blood and guts.
LOVED that there's more trans and genderqueer characters than you can shake a stick at.
LOVED the framing device with the kids in the museum.
LIKED the first half of the book with the Spiritual Association of Peers, a secretive community/cult that lives in the lawless exurbs outside the New York City Administrative and Security Territory and refuses to talk to the researcher sent to research them.
LIKED our hapless trans man Lucius Pasternak, researcher, who's just trying to do his job.
NOT KEEN on the second half of the book with the visions and the monster(s) as a metaphor for, idk, self-loathing or capitalism or whatever. It's not a trope I have a natural affinity for and this didn't sell me on it. I want real monsters or I want self-loathing, but don't outsource the problem. The romance also felt whatever. There was chemistry between them, but little else.
UNSATISFIED by the ending, which seems to be resolved in passing by two randos, but also raises a lot of big questions that go unanswered and left me skeptical.
IN SHORT, the first half is kind of a mystery where you're getting to know the players and the setting, and the second half is a kind of gory fairy tale where it's about types of people and social movements, big picture stuff, and I felt like it didn't really match up with the first half.
BUT I'm always glad to read something from Lubchansky and this was a fun way to spend some time.
CONTAINS: some misgendering, including from the robotic health care system; nudity; sex; animal harm (scraggly and aggressive wild bear); violence; cartoon blood and guts; cartoon cops and their cartoon blood and guts.
July 17, 2025
I really liked Mattie's Boy's Weekend, and this new graphic novel is a great follow-up! Queer characters surviving in a future libertarian hellscape New York state.
There's always great easter eggs in the backgrounds, my favorite was the news headline for a fish spotted in the Hudson - newsworthy in a future after a mass extinction.
There's always great easter eggs in the backgrounds, my favorite was the news headline for a fish spotted in the Hudson - newsworthy in a future after a mass extinction.
July 2, 2025
In the not so distant future, a trans scholar is hired by a tech millionaire to interview a cult in the Catskills. The cult is tech free and free love, except for the sudden appearance of a rampaging monster that is devouring all of the cult's acolytes.
Mattie Lubchansky's books are the only thing getting me through this timeline. It's frankly obnoxious how good she is at satire while also creating a gripping trans narrative within a decades old cult within a futuristic society. There are some parts that are to be expected (yep, the cult has a sex thing) but there are twists and turns that you won't see coming. You should read this because, while it won't solve the present, it will help you find the humor in it. Also, for me, please slow down and read all of the jokes Lubchansky has hidden in the background.
Mattie Lubchansky's books are the only thing getting me through this timeline. It's frankly obnoxious how good she is at satire while also creating a gripping trans narrative within a decades old cult within a futuristic society. There are some parts that are to be expected (yep, the cult has a sex thing) but there are twists and turns that you won't see coming. You should read this because, while it won't solve the present, it will help you find the humor in it. Also, for me, please slow down and read all of the jokes Lubchansky has hidden in the background.
Read
September 12, 2025hmmmm as much as I love graphic novels I feel like.......this concept might have been better served by a prose novel? I just wanted more background on everythingggg
Also Mattie's art style is so distinctive and cartoony/fun which is an interesting juxtaposition but also like, all the women in here looked like Mattie's stand-in in her more autobiographical cartoons
Also Mattie's art style is so distinctive and cartoony/fun which is an interesting juxtaposition but also like, all the women in here looked like Mattie's stand-in in her more autobiographical cartoons
September 30, 2025
I love Mattie Lubchansky's work, so take this review with a grain of salt. I follow them on social media and preorder their work each time.
I'm a fan! This graphic novel does a good job capturing the weirdness of entering leftist spaces in a humorous way. I was easily able to draw parallels to my own experiences in such spaces, particularly as I was first entering them. It captures the absurdity of philanthropists and militarized police forces in a tongue-in-cheek way. It was nice having a mostly queer cast of characters where their queerness was a matter of course but society was still realistic. The author seems to draw inspiration from several real world events (including stop cop city, the most on-the-nose parallel), and I think the book benefits from this. That said, their characterization of far right preppers as buffoons feels a bit dishonest/childish to me, and I wasn't a fan of the ending (even if it was hopeful). To some extent, I felt that the book kind of loses its punch.
I appreciate the messaging, the importance of doing rather than hoping for change and the power of the people to enact that change. I also like the idea of bringing the commune to your community rather than the other way around.
PS, this book has a lot of graphic content: cartoon gore, sex, nudity, and violence. Avoid if that's not your thing. It's not my thing either, but as a fan girl I gotta.
I'm a fan! This graphic novel does a good job capturing the weirdness of entering leftist spaces in a humorous way. I was easily able to draw parallels to my own experiences in such spaces, particularly as I was first entering them. It captures the absurdity of philanthropists and militarized police forces in a tongue-in-cheek way. It was nice having a mostly queer cast of characters where their queerness was a matter of course but society was still realistic. The author seems to draw inspiration from several real world events (including stop cop city, the most on-the-nose parallel), and I think the book benefits from this. That said, their characterization of far right preppers as buffoons feels a bit dishonest/childish to me, and I wasn't a fan of the ending (even if it was hopeful). To some extent, I felt that the book kind of loses its punch.
I appreciate the messaging, the importance of doing rather than hoping for change and the power of the people to enact that change. I also like the idea of bringing the commune to your community rather than the other way around.
PS, this book has a lot of graphic content: cartoon gore, sex, nudity, and violence. Avoid if that's not your thing. It's not my thing either, but as a fan girl I gotta.
February 1, 2026
I received a copy of this book through a giveaway!
I deeply appreciate the anti-capitalism, anti-fascist commentary throughout this story. The dystopia mirrored many aspects of our real world, and where we could very well be heading. This author very obviously has a deep passion for the genderqueer/trans community and it was beautiful seeing all of the representation for that. I felt there was much left unexplained in regard to the dreams/hallucinations (?) and I wish I had a better grasp of what was happening there. I also felt some of the imagery was unnecessarily graphic but hey, maybe the author just wanted it to be a bit spicy!
I deeply appreciate the anti-capitalism, anti-fascist commentary throughout this story. The dystopia mirrored many aspects of our real world, and where we could very well be heading. This author very obviously has a deep passion for the genderqueer/trans community and it was beautiful seeing all of the representation for that. I felt there was much left unexplained in regard to the dreams/hallucinations (?) and I wish I had a better grasp of what was happening there. I also felt some of the imagery was unnecessarily graphic but hey, maybe the author just wanted it to be a bit spicy!
March 5, 2026
Queer Graphic SF Novel. In so gut 50 Jahren wird eine Anthropologin aus dem New York City Administrative and Security Territory in die Wildnis geschickt, um über eine Kommune dort zu berichten. Sie hat anfangs Probleme anzukommen, findet aber dann Anschluss, und muss herausfinden, dass nicht alles so ist, wie sie sich das vorgestellt hat.
October 12, 2025
This book is horny, mesmerizing, psychedelic, and so so timely. The art is beautiful, the world feels rich, and I would have happily read another 100 pages.
To all who feel dread about encroaching fascism or the urge to move out to the woods to escape it, you should read this book!
To all who feel dread about encroaching fascism or the urge to move out to the woods to escape it, you should read this book!
January 14, 2026
A lovingly told story about an earnest dweeb experiencing a minute apocalypse amidst a general cybourgeoise malaise. Lubchansky has a particular knack for creating worlds where the day-to-day is a familiar tech-rich mundane and the horrors are so cosmic it's easy to forget they could just as easily be something people are doing to each other, allegorically or literally.
I'd been meaning to read the book for months and finally snagged a couple hours for a first read. It is apropro that the tome I turned to for escapism is a meditation on the deep limits of escape, while cherishing the solidarity built in community. Set after the dissolution of the United States, it's a helluva story to read on yet another day where the federal government is invading Minnesota and abducting people. What we have is each other, you know?
I'd been meaning to read the book for months and finally snagged a couple hours for a first read. It is apropro that the tome I turned to for escapism is a meditation on the deep limits of escape, while cherishing the solidarity built in community. Set after the dissolution of the United States, it's a helluva story to read on yet another day where the federal government is invading Minnesota and abducting people. What we have is each other, you know?
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 31, 2025
I've never read cult horror where the cult is the victim before but as expected, excellent.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 3, 2025
terrifying - werk
August 12, 2025
Mattie is an incredible artist on so many fronts and this is her creativtiy and vision in full bloom. Absolutely loved this!
August 20, 2025
This was a good read. The art is great, it is very unique you know the artist when you see it.
The story is straightforward and gets to the point, lots of worldbuilding. Good stuff.
The story is straightforward and gets to the point, lots of worldbuilding. Good stuff.
September 8, 2025
Mattie Lubchansky is an incredible cartoonist and storyteller, and this is Mattie at the top of her game. Beautifully drawn, compellingly written, and well worth your time. Check it out!
September 20, 2025
The researcher who doesn’t think they’ll fall for the cult is a trope more people need to write about cause that hit HARD! Also how u end a book like dat
November 23, 2025
Did not dig the art style and the plot was lackluster. I was excited with the premise but let down in the execution.
December 20, 2025
Quite weird but also had something to say
August 23, 2025
this is dreamier and looser than the other graphic novel of theirs i've read (boys' weekend!) but it really resonates as a snapshot of this current moment in time. it's intense and anxiety-inducing (but community is there for the finding and building). the characters are lovely and easy to invest in. the art is wonderful to look at.
October 31, 2025
I enjoyed it, though not as much as Boys Weekend. I really didn't understand the end, though. I'll look for more from the author/artist.
May 9, 2025
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫
Critical Score: A
Personal Score: A-
I love woke lit! Lubchansky follows up Boys Weekend with the even better Simplicity. It’s super rich in progressive politics, and honestly, bravo to Pantheon for publishing this in today’s climate. We need more woke lit desperately. Plus, the story is captivating and twisty. The world-building is spectacular. The diverse representation in the character writing is a dream. The artwork might not be a style I love, but it’s very well done.
If you want a ferociously queer and anti-capitalist story that’s captivating and quick, look no further. When you’re done, you’ll be looking for more just like it.
A huge success!
Critical Score: A
Personal Score: A-
I love woke lit! Lubchansky follows up Boys Weekend with the even better Simplicity. It’s super rich in progressive politics, and honestly, bravo to Pantheon for publishing this in today’s climate. We need more woke lit desperately. Plus, the story is captivating and twisty. The world-building is spectacular. The diverse representation in the character writing is a dream. The artwork might not be a style I love, but it’s very well done.
If you want a ferociously queer and anti-capitalist story that’s captivating and quick, look no further. When you’re done, you’ll be looking for more just like it.
A huge success!
September 25, 2025
Lubchansky's follow-up to the refreshing and exciting Boys Weekend shows her stretching her storytelling ambitions into something grander and more epic, a book that for broad swaths shows the influence of classic horror fiction. The early sections of this book are the best, as she explores standard cult vibes. Is this group liberated or creepy? Are they dangerous? Then the book shifts, briefly, into a folk horror story. It then reaches for broad commentary on capitalism and policing in our current moment but, in this final sprint, is a little too on the nose for me. I'm sorry, but it felt like fan service for Internet leftists. She isn't wrong, but it just didn't feel organic to me.
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