An emotional and heartbreaking memoir of the author’s lifelong struggle with his mother’s death from cancer.
Grief never goes away.
When he was a teenager, Jesse Mechanic’s mother passed away after a long struggle with cancer. In this memoir, he looks back on that time, and on the ways that experience followed him throughout his life. Struggling with school while dealing with attentional problems and the overwhelming tsunami of grief, this book tells the story of Mechanic’s slow work to figure out a life for himself. It’s about obsessive-compulsive disorder, intrusive thoughts, and depression—straight-A’s turning to straight F’s, and smiles to blank stares. It's about what loss can teach us, and how trauma can be both debilitating and beautiful. It’s about standing in dark rooms for long enough for your eyes to adjust.
And graffiti. It’s about that too.
With powerful visuals and thoughtful, poignant text, this graphic memoir challenges readers to keep going in the face of the hardest times.
I was a young adult when my own mom died of cancer, so maybe that's why I was spared the failing-grades part of Jesse's narrative, but damn, I related to every other bit of this graphic memoir. Grief as OCD and intrusive thoughts that function as a relentless playground bully kicking you toward the abyss. Fear and sadness that don't go away, even as art and joy provide salvation. A new perspective as a parent, when you realize how painful it must have been for your mom to leave you (and you worry that you'll do the same to your children). Mechanic writes and draws with precision, accurately depicting an internal landscape full of darkness and flowers. He concludes that he has integrated his mom's presence and absence into his being: "We talk all the time." Yes. Exactly. Thank you for this book, Jesse Mechanic.
We’ve been facing a lot of questions about the meaning of art, now that machines are capable of generating text and images in imitation of work produced by humans. I’ve decided, for now, that “art” does in fact require human provenance; that art is a communication, from a living consciousness, expressing what it feels like to be them — to have their window of experience on planet Earth.
If it’s easy to lose sight of the fundamental affection at the center of art, it’s because a lot of what we consume is far removed from human feeling. It’s either vapid, commercial, ironized into safety, trivial social media content, or an earnest attempt at communication that fails for the lack of the artist’s talent. Sometimes, even a good work of art fails to connect simply because the artist is more interested in delivering head-scratching high-brow abstraction than in the raw work of bringing you into their world.
Or maybe it’s just that ninety percent of everything is shit. Regardless, it’s rare to encounter something so transportive that inside of an hour you can have a genuinely worldview-changing experience from behind another person’s eyes. Wet cheeks and all.
Jesse Mechanic didn’t just lose his mother at age 14; he had the succor drawn out of his life, the lens ripped off his reality. The loneliness of the loss was step one in a long journey of grief that would annihilate the heuristics he had previously used to navigate the world. Grief was sadness, yes, but also vertigo and paralysis. He matured from a state of near-suicidal torpor to his current career — a pundit who uncompromisingly insists on putting empathy into the world — by discovering new passions and talents, and by building an honest cosmology around the terrible new data about what life is really like.
The Last Time We Spoke is a remarkable triumph of form that delivers the reader cleanly into a nightmare of emotion. The text and illustrations collaborate brilliantly; I couldn’t imagine this memoir-poem working as well as anything but a hand-drawn graphic novel. (Page 139, in which a vivid memory sublimates into background context, was one tragic gut punch of many.) It’s not just about losing a mother. It’s about feeling like an outsider, coming of age, finding redemption — it’s about a lot of things. Quick and devastating, this work proves that only by relating one’s specific experience can an artist speak something so true that it becomes universal.
The way I ugly cried and sobbed over this book can not be overstated. I pre-ordered this impulsively after coming across a video of Jesse earnestly promoting something that he worked really hard on and wanted to do well. I'd been watching his videos for a while and felt confident that this book would be right up my alley.
"Grief never goes away," in bold on the back of the book. I nod, knowing all too well how true that is. I've known loss my whole life... since memories started to form and last in my mind, I've had to struggle and cling to the bits and pieces of a person I barely had time to get to know, so... of course, this, while being a tough read, will also be a familiar pain. Misery loves company and all that. I tend to look at grief in a clinical, removed lense at this point.
I. was. NOT! prepared for this book.
The first half was as I expected. The nostalgic, melancholy of angst FOR GOOD REASON! It wasn't a phase. It was survival. ...but that last half devastated me! It opened a part of me that has been locked up for longer than I can remember. I've known it's still in there, but rarely does it come out in full force so viscerally. It articulated all the thoughts held hostage because I didn't know how to express them... all the feelings I didn't realize were still buried all this time.
Thank you, Jesse, for making this. For the ones that are part of the worst club ever. We needed a book like this.
The Last Time We Spoke by Jesse Mechanic is both a very personal memoir of loss and grief as well as a very relatable trip through some of the many difficulties we have all experienced when losing someone dear.
I think it is the mix of the personal story and the relatable mechanisms that make this especially powerful. We care for young Jesse as he walks (stumbles) along his path. When we move from the specificity of his situation to the ways he coped, or didn't cope, with everything we can also relate his experiences to our own, helping us to understand both him and ourselves better.
You will likely shed a tear or two for him as you read, but you may also shed a couple for yourself or someone you know who has gone through something similar. It is easy to breeze through this, but I'd suggest going at a moderate pace. Even the pages with few if any words, spend a moment thinking about the drawing and what it might mean to you as well as why he chose to illustrate those feelings with that specific image. Doesn't have to be a long moment, but it will keep you from just turning the pages as fast as you can read a few words.
Highly recommended for anyone (most of us) who have lost someone dear to us, someone who we still carry with us and talk to and learn from.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via Edelweiss.
This book was phenomenal. It's got a lot of really poignant quotes and the art is fantastic, I also really liked the font changes throughout etc. I don't know why I am reading all these death memoirs with pictures, but I'm a melancholy soul so we're just gonna roll with it. I read this in almost one sitting, like you can read it in one sitting. It is really quick and easy to read, but I imagine if you have experienced the loss that the author is writing about in this memoir, it will be harder to read and you'd read it slower, in-between crying and having to process how relatable it may be what he's describing. I found this book insightful and deep, and again another nudge for me to explore the punk music of the 90s or so, I think? Anyway, definitely open to buying this one to have on my shelf, Another great library read for me.
Grief stories are not new, but each one is unique to that person. The one thing I came away with is that the author is human: selfish, loving, scared, fearless, angry and hopeful. The art is tone setting and allows us a peek into the mind of someone who is dealing with grief and mental health issues. Relatable as most of us have experienced loss, even if it wasn't a parent to cancer (which regardless if you were 14 or 41, that hurt never is easy)
I give huge props to Mechanic for his unsparing honesty and his enviable creativity in presenting his story. I also lost my mom to cancer and was unable to visit her because it happened during the pandemic, but I was an adult and was able to process things just a little bit easier, if such a thing could even be measured. Raw memoirs like this can do incredible good at comforting people and helping them heal, and I'm grateful this book exists.
This isn't really a graphic novel, although that's where it is being slotted. It is better described as a picture book for adults, maybe because it doesn't tell a story through panels of images, but I'm quibbling. This is a thoughtful, heartfelt account of working through the grief of losing a mother at a young age. Mechanic is a graphic artist and uses many styles of art to tell his story and to emphasize the profound impact this loss continues to have on his life.
Wow, what an incredibly powerful book. You really get a sense of what the author is going through. Raw and filled with emotion, this book is really perfect for anybody who has lost a loved one, or who wants to better understand what somebody might be feeling, who recently lost a love one. I don’t consider myself an emotional person but this book really moved me. Highly recommend.
Beautiful and heartbreaking. A deeply relatable story about loss and finding yourself afterwards. Paired with stunning, original illustrations that are never what you'd expect. Each page gives you a jolt.
Even if a book about loss isn't your thing, it's such a deep and confessional story that you feel like you know and love the narrator at the end, and you've got a lot in common.
I try to read at least one graphic novel a year and while they aren't my favourite format of story telling, they can be very enlightening to read. Mechanic talks about the experience of losing his mum to cancer at a very young age and the process of grieving. It moved me to tears and the accompanying art work was very well done.
Probably one of the most powerful memoirs on grief and loss I have read. I lost my older brother after 8 years of illness and it continues to affect my life profoundly over 30 years later. The illustrations are so apt especially the continuous use of the falling young man I can relate 100% to that sense of hopelessness.
The Last Time We Spoke is a moving and beautifully crafted graphic novel. The story pulled at my heartstrings and stayed with me long after I finished it. The artwork and writing work seamlessly together to deliver an emotional and unforgettable reading experience.
Couldn’t put this book down. Super moving, I’m not even really into graphic novels and still LOVED this book. Jesse is an incredibly eloquent writer. I think it’s a must read for anyone who’s ever experienced loss or struggled with mental health in any way. Moved me to tears multiple times.
A beautiful and vulnerable story of how loss impacts us all differently. Jesse’s words are honest and his illustrations are captivating. If you’ve ever experienced loss or know grief this book will speak to you.
Wow. A triumph of a debut novel. My HS friends should give this book a go, it's incredible. So much to discuss, so much to relate to, simply an amazing read.
This book is truly a work of art! The art is extra special to me, it makes it so personal. Like it’s straight from his journal. I’ve already read it 3 times.