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Melody: Story of a Nude Dancer
"Charming, innocent and empathetic... Rancourt passes the reader a the ability to experience and see a venal adult life through the forgiving, blameless and easily-wounded eyes of a child." -Chris Ware, from his introduction
In 1980, Sylvie Rancourt and her boyfriend moved to Montreal from rural Northern Quebec. With limited formal education or training, they had a hard time finding employment, so Rancourt began dancing in strip clubs. These experiences formed the backbone of the first Canadian autobiographical comic book, Melody , which Rancourt wrote, drew, and distributed, starting in 1985. Later, she collaborated with the artist Jacques Boivin, who translated and drew a new series of Melody comics for the American market-the comics were an instant cult classic.
Until now, the Rancourt drawn-and-written comics have never been published in English. These stories are compelling without ever being voyeuristic or self-pitying, and her drawings are formally innovative while maintaining a refreshingly frank and engaging clarity. Whether she's divulging her first experiences dancing for an audience or sharing moments from her life at home, her storytelling is straightforward and never sensationalized. With a knowing wink at the reader, Rancourt shares a world that, in someone else's hands, might be scandalous or seedy, but in hers is fully realized, real, and often funny.
The Drawn & Quarterly edition of Story of a Nude Dancer, featuring an introduction by Chris Ware ( Building Stories ), places this masterpiece of early autobiographical comics in its rightful place at the heart of the comics canon.
In 1980, Sylvie Rancourt and her boyfriend moved to Montreal from rural Northern Quebec. With limited formal education or training, they had a hard time finding employment, so Rancourt began dancing in strip clubs. These experiences formed the backbone of the first Canadian autobiographical comic book, Melody , which Rancourt wrote, drew, and distributed, starting in 1985. Later, she collaborated with the artist Jacques Boivin, who translated and drew a new series of Melody comics for the American market-the comics were an instant cult classic.
Until now, the Rancourt drawn-and-written comics have never been published in English. These stories are compelling without ever being voyeuristic or self-pitying, and her drawings are formally innovative while maintaining a refreshingly frank and engaging clarity. Whether she's divulging her first experiences dancing for an audience or sharing moments from her life at home, her storytelling is straightforward and never sensationalized. With a knowing wink at the reader, Rancourt shares a world that, in someone else's hands, might be scandalous or seedy, but in hers is fully realized, real, and often funny.
The Drawn & Quarterly edition of Story of a Nude Dancer, featuring an introduction by Chris Ware ( Building Stories ), places this masterpiece of early autobiographical comics in its rightful place at the heart of the comics canon.
352 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2013
16 people are currently reading
452 people want to read
About the author
Sylvie Rancourt
62 books8 followersOriginaire d’Abitibi, elle s’installe en 1980 à Montréal avec son compagnon. N'ayant aucune qualification et poussé par lui, elle devient stripteaseuse professionnelle. Elle se met rapidement à raconter sa vie en bande dessinée, avec un dessin très naïf, chose qu'elle avait déjà fait auparavant sans publier le résultat1.
Elle photocopie les aventures de Mélody (son alter-ego) et distribue les fascicules dans les bars où elle exerce. L'accueil étant bon elle décide de lancer une version auto-édité en kiosque, et s'associe pour cela avec le dessinateur Jacques Boivin qui réalise les couverture. La revue obtient un succès d'estime mais s'arrête au bout de quatre numéro, faute à une diffusion chaotique et à un manque de ventes2.
Une version anglophone voit le jour grâce à Jacques Boivin. Cela lui permet de se faire remarquer, notamment par Aline Kominsky-Crumb (en), mais surtout par Denis Kitchen, éditeur underground majeur. il décide de publier la série aux États-Unis mais réclame à Sylvie Rancourt un dessin plus professionnel. Elle écrit alors dix comic books dessinés par Jacques Boivin, qui sortiront entre 1988 et 19953.
En 2001 elle sortira Melody on stage, son dernier album, chez Fantagraphics. Entretemps elle a également publié de nombreux récits courts et comics, ainsi qu'un jeu de carte4. Un « Club Mélody », bar nommé en son hommage, existe même à Montréal entre 1990 et 19925.
Mariée en 2004 avec un fermier québécois, elle a totalement arrêté la bande dessinée. Elle se consacre depuis 2007 à la peinture et à l'éducation de ses quatre enfants6.
Réputé dans le milieu de la bande dessinée grâce à la nombreuse littérature critique à son sujet, le travail de Sylvie Rancourt était globalement invisible au public jusu'à la réédition intégrale de ses premiers travaux par les éditions Ego comme X en 2013.
Elle photocopie les aventures de Mélody (son alter-ego) et distribue les fascicules dans les bars où elle exerce. L'accueil étant bon elle décide de lancer une version auto-édité en kiosque, et s'associe pour cela avec le dessinateur Jacques Boivin qui réalise les couverture. La revue obtient un succès d'estime mais s'arrête au bout de quatre numéro, faute à une diffusion chaotique et à un manque de ventes2.
Une version anglophone voit le jour grâce à Jacques Boivin. Cela lui permet de se faire remarquer, notamment par Aline Kominsky-Crumb (en), mais surtout par Denis Kitchen, éditeur underground majeur. il décide de publier la série aux États-Unis mais réclame à Sylvie Rancourt un dessin plus professionnel. Elle écrit alors dix comic books dessinés par Jacques Boivin, qui sortiront entre 1988 et 19953.
En 2001 elle sortira Melody on stage, son dernier album, chez Fantagraphics. Entretemps elle a également publié de nombreux récits courts et comics, ainsi qu'un jeu de carte4. Un « Club Mélody », bar nommé en son hommage, existe même à Montréal entre 1990 et 19925.
Mariée en 2004 avec un fermier québécois, elle a totalement arrêté la bande dessinée. Elle se consacre depuis 2007 à la peinture et à l'éducation de ses quatre enfants6.
Réputé dans le milieu de la bande dessinée grâce à la nombreuse littérature critique à son sujet, le travail de Sylvie Rancourt était globalement invisible au public jusu'à la réédition intégrale de ses premiers travaux par les éditions Ego comme X en 2013.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 76 reviews
February 10, 2017
Chris Ware's introduction frames Melody - a compilation of Sylvie Rancourt's self-published autobiographical comics - as "innocent": the "venal adult world" seen through "childlike" eyes. From a technical standpoint you can see what he's getting at, but as a take on the content of this book it's well off the mark. Look past the untutored drawing style and this is not a childlike book - it's the venal adult world presented the way most people who aren't highly acclaimed artists experience it: matter-of-fact, and one day at a time.
Each of Melody's adventures is introduced the same way - "This is not the beginning or the end, but somewhere in the middle". Melody is not a sex comic, and it's not an explicitly political one: it's a comic about work. Yes, the fact that the specific job is stripping matters - capturing the texture of the job, the specific hopes, hassles and headaches, is the point of any comic about work. But there's no hint of the sensational. Melody's own character isn't innocent so much as stoically optimistic without being naive - a difficult and subtle line to draw, and one Rancourt does well.
You could speculate on how much the material production of Melody affected the approach and content: the comics were originally drawn and printed by Rancourt as things to sell in the bars she danced at, which may be why the depiction of the strip club crowds treads slyly between indulgence and pity. But she's happy to show an asshole as an asshole, and there are plenty of examples in the seven stories here. The main such, of course, is Melody's unspeakable boyfriend Nick, a lecher, failed hustler, petty crook, and layabout. Melody's failure to kick Nick to the curb has infuriated many readers, and some have criticised her as passive.
But I think this is a misunderstanding of what Rancourt is doing. Because of the apparently artless drawing, it's easy to see Melody as plainly and straightforwardly autobiographical. But Rancourt is a storyteller, and so Nick is also a literary creation - his terminal fecklessness is a thematic counterpoint to Melody's work ethic (however grudging that is) and he's a lightning rod for all the criticisms the comic wants to make about male privilege and chauvinism. His idiotic schemes also tend to push the plot along, which when you're writing a comic about the largely unchanging everyday, is sometimes necessary.
If you read the other Rancourt Melody stories - published in the 80s by Kitchen Sink with a different artist - it's obvious that she isn't some kind of comics idiot savant. The difference between them is a stylistic and generic difference between autobiographical comic and memoir - the Kitchen Sink run *is* a sex comic (it knows its market) but is also an evocation of the lost world of 70s post-hippie rural Montreal: free love, generous benefits, and massive exploitation of both those things by self-entitled men.
Rancourt quit comics at the end of the 1980s, but her work here feels more contemporary than it can possibly have done at the time. The untutored style which Ware found hard to place has echoes all across the world of minicomics and webcomics, the autobiographical approach doubly so, and the subject matter - sex, work, and sex work - couldn't be more modish. The price will put a lot of people off, but Melody deserves a new audience.
Each of Melody's adventures is introduced the same way - "This is not the beginning or the end, but somewhere in the middle". Melody is not a sex comic, and it's not an explicitly political one: it's a comic about work. Yes, the fact that the specific job is stripping matters - capturing the texture of the job, the specific hopes, hassles and headaches, is the point of any comic about work. But there's no hint of the sensational. Melody's own character isn't innocent so much as stoically optimistic without being naive - a difficult and subtle line to draw, and one Rancourt does well.
You could speculate on how much the material production of Melody affected the approach and content: the comics were originally drawn and printed by Rancourt as things to sell in the bars she danced at, which may be why the depiction of the strip club crowds treads slyly between indulgence and pity. But she's happy to show an asshole as an asshole, and there are plenty of examples in the seven stories here. The main such, of course, is Melody's unspeakable boyfriend Nick, a lecher, failed hustler, petty crook, and layabout. Melody's failure to kick Nick to the curb has infuriated many readers, and some have criticised her as passive.
But I think this is a misunderstanding of what Rancourt is doing. Because of the apparently artless drawing, it's easy to see Melody as plainly and straightforwardly autobiographical. But Rancourt is a storyteller, and so Nick is also a literary creation - his terminal fecklessness is a thematic counterpoint to Melody's work ethic (however grudging that is) and he's a lightning rod for all the criticisms the comic wants to make about male privilege and chauvinism. His idiotic schemes also tend to push the plot along, which when you're writing a comic about the largely unchanging everyday, is sometimes necessary.
If you read the other Rancourt Melody stories - published in the 80s by Kitchen Sink with a different artist - it's obvious that she isn't some kind of comics idiot savant. The difference between them is a stylistic and generic difference between autobiographical comic and memoir - the Kitchen Sink run *is* a sex comic (it knows its market) but is also an evocation of the lost world of 70s post-hippie rural Montreal: free love, generous benefits, and massive exploitation of both those things by self-entitled men.
Rancourt quit comics at the end of the 1980s, but her work here feels more contemporary than it can possibly have done at the time. The untutored style which Ware found hard to place has echoes all across the world of minicomics and webcomics, the autobiographical approach doubly so, and the subject matter - sex, work, and sex work - couldn't be more modish. The price will put a lot of people off, but Melody deserves a new audience.
May 21, 2024
Si yo me dedicara a hacer cómics, me daría mucho que pensar que Melody funcione tan bien en todos los aspectos, incluido el narrativo, a partir de un dibujo tan básico. Pero como no me dedico a ello, solo puedo decir que lo he pasado teta leyéndolo, y nunca mejor dicho.
October 11, 2015
The repackaged, serialized memoirs of Rancourt, telling the somewhat fictionalized (? She calls "herself" Melody in it; she is describing a scene where her fellow characters might not want to be outed) tale of her years as a stripper. Chris Ware and Bernard Joubert write framing essays to help us understand the importance of this project, which they identify as the first comics memoir, which she began publishing in DIY fashion in 1985, only in French, selling it at strip clubs. Now, summer of 2015, it is out in English, 344 pages, so it is a substantial piece of work. It is, since I know you are curious, not particularly lewd or titillating. Definitely not pornography, though there is, of course, nudity in it. Rancourt does tell her story of various experiences she has in the trade, but the hardest-to-take aspects of the story are ones of her small time criminal ex, whom everyone hates. You will, too. But Melody never does hate him, actually, which makes her somehow more innocent-seeming than the life she depicts, in a weird way.
Melody comes off as a kind of naif, even when she is engaging in some pretty wild things (not usually explicitly depicted, I said, and no spoilers here!). I read some of it before reading Ware's terrific intro, in which he agrees it is not prurient or shocking, and helps us see the art, which is initially elementary looking, as deliberately "child-like" and innocent. And I agree, finally, though I initially DID see it as kinda simple, as art and story. But as I read on I can see the drawing is actually accomplished and the episodic stories are interesting. And over all there is an arc to the memoir, as we see how she gets into the trade (casually, at the suggestion of her dope dealer their boyfriend), and gets out of it (working at a pretty disreputable bar).
The really interesting thing about this memoir (besides its historical value, first Canadian memoir!) is how Rancourt maintains her nice and friendly persona throughout, as if she were actually skirting all the dangers of her life in some way. Very interesting project. Really! :)
Melody comes off as a kind of naif, even when she is engaging in some pretty wild things (not usually explicitly depicted, I said, and no spoilers here!). I read some of it before reading Ware's terrific intro, in which he agrees it is not prurient or shocking, and helps us see the art, which is initially elementary looking, as deliberately "child-like" and innocent. And I agree, finally, though I initially DID see it as kinda simple, as art and story. But as I read on I can see the drawing is actually accomplished and the episodic stories are interesting. And over all there is an arc to the memoir, as we see how she gets into the trade (casually, at the suggestion of her dope dealer their boyfriend), and gets out of it (working at a pretty disreputable bar).
The really interesting thing about this memoir (besides its historical value, first Canadian memoir!) is how Rancourt maintains her nice and friendly persona throughout, as if she were actually skirting all the dangers of her life in some way. Very interesting project. Really! :)
May 4, 2016
Pour petites étoiles (que je déteste, comme vous savez), j'ai hésité, car les parties avec son chum m'emmerdaient un peu; par contre, cette relation malsaine mise de l'avant est importante. Le gars est présenté comme un total cave, du moins c'est ce qu'on « devine », mais Melody n'y voit pas grand-chose. Comme c'est un récit autobiographique, on sent bien qu'il y a un recul de l'auteure; mais jamais de « j'vais me faire un personnage full clever après coup pour pas que le monde ME trouve naïve ». (Ça, c'est d'ailleurs une plaie en littérature jeunesse, mais je m'égare. *Melody* N'est pas une BD jeunesse.)
J'ai été fascinée par ce livre, pour plusieurs raisons, la première étant la grande authenticité de tout ça. J'y consacrerai peut-être une vidéo entière, si je trouve les bons mots. Au grand risque de mal l'interpréter aux yeux des fins coinoisseurs.
J'ai été fascinée par ce livre, pour plusieurs raisons, la première étant la grande authenticité de tout ça. J'y consacrerai peut-être une vidéo entière, si je trouve les bons mots. Au grand risque de mal l'interpréter aux yeux des fins coinoisseurs.
September 25, 2015
Really? A rudimentary comic memoir (BEFORE COMIC MEMOIRS WERE A THING GUYS) about being a stripper? It's impossible to put down? Who'da thunk. It's almost like outsider art -- it's so sincere, straightforward, and wide-eyed, without being like ooh isn't this super-racy or aren't I wild and crazy for doing these things. Just like, stripping kind of stinks but also it is just a living, and also my boyfriend is a jerk, but eh, whatever, eventually I quit that junk.
And she does, hooray! This is so oddly compelling, and funny, and sweet but not in a cloying way. Perhaps it's just how wide-eyed and ...almost naive? Melody is. Kind of like...if Flippy-Do...were a nude dancer. But that, sirs, is not a think that shall happen. Thank heavens. Thank heavens also for comic memoirs. For the Sylvies and Snakepits and Porcellinos and Gabby Schultzs of the world in all their variegated glory. HOORAY!
And she does, hooray! This is so oddly compelling, and funny, and sweet but not in a cloying way. Perhaps it's just how wide-eyed and ...almost naive? Melody is. Kind of like...if Flippy-Do...were a nude dancer. But that, sirs, is not a think that shall happen. Thank heavens. Thank heavens also for comic memoirs. For the Sylvies and Snakepits and Porcellinos and Gabby Schultzs of the world in all their variegated glory. HOORAY!
June 24, 2015
one of the best comics memoirs. i want to emphasize that the art is indeed gorgeous, not childish or elementary.
February 22, 2017
I've read a lot of stripper memoirs (I have eclectic reading tastes) and this graphic novel memoir didn't really do it for me. This memoir takes place in Canada during the 1980's, Melody and her dead beat boyfriend are broke and unemployed so he pressures her into being an exotic dancer while he peddles dope. Melody starts off as young and naive and quickly grows jaded and tired of her boyfriend's lying, cheating, and stealing.Not enough to leave him though. There are multiple "chapters" and each tells a small story. One involves the cops, another involves, puppets, yet another an orgy, you get the picture. While interesting, I had a hard time feeling sympathy for Melody. The drawings are a little amateur but fit well with the story.
September 1, 2015
What a wonderful book. The complexity of the story and its subject matter pair so well with the simple drawings, dialogue, and lack of character development. And even though her drawing style seems, at first glance, to be very amateurish, her composition proves her competency as an artist. Hard to believe it was made in the 80s!
March 21, 2017
Wow, okay that was really depressing but eye opening at the same time.
September 25, 2022
3,5* per tot el rotllo amateur, autodidacta i “outsider” però la història tampoc mata
August 16, 2022
A truly great autobiographical comic, with naive art reminiscent of American Folk art, a fascinating storyline, and deeply impressive visual storytelling and design. Never flashy, deals with adult subjects in adult manners, and equipped with solid textual apparatus that provides context for the work, including the covers of the national editions by Jacques Boivin (a personal obscure favorite).
December 29, 2016
Este libro es especial.
Estaba inclinada a pensarlo cuando me lo llevé prestado, ya que una pegatina en el plastificado de la biblioteca lo anunciaba. Donde el resto de volúmenes lleva un código de barras, éste tiene un párrafo enmarcado. Dice así:
«Por fin editado en Francia, este cómic en su origen autoeditado y distribuido en Québec hace 28 años marcó la vanguardia del relato autobiográfico. Su autora, auténtica pionera, nos brinda su experiencia como bailarina de striptease en locales, algunos de ellos escalofriantes, de Montréal. Sus primeros lectores fueron sus clientes y compañeras de trabajo, y el material fue pasando de mano en mano hasta llegar a grandes autores, como Aline Kominsky y su marido Robert Crumb, y Chris Ware, que lo veneran. Su diseño naif contrasta de forma sorprendente con la dureza de su argumento.»
Es especial por su candidez. Con dibujos casi infantiles, Rancourt nos comunica un tema sórdido con extraordinaria naturalidad. Mélody es serena, y esa serenidad se transmite a lo largo de cada tira aún cuando contienen historias de violencia y abuso. Su inocencia es imperturbable. Es fácil imaginar a Rancourt repartiendo folios fotocopiados con sus viñetas sencillas en los bares en los que trabajaba, ofreciéndole a clientes, compañeras y jefes sus propios retratos incómodos sin ningún tipo de inquina, tan sólo para compartir. Quiero pensar que fue feliz bailando y desnudándose para otros, tanto literal como figurativamente. Tras su inesperado éxito y haber inspirado a toda una generación del cómic, Rancourt ha desaparecido. Dicen que se ha hecho un hueco en la heteronorma y vive con su marido y cinco hijos en una granja canadiense. Me pregunto qué estará escribiendo allí, y si algún día podremos leerlo.
Una rareza delicada y personal, Melody es el testimonio tremendamente original de una mente perspicaz.
Estaba inclinada a pensarlo cuando me lo llevé prestado, ya que una pegatina en el plastificado de la biblioteca lo anunciaba. Donde el resto de volúmenes lleva un código de barras, éste tiene un párrafo enmarcado. Dice así:
«Por fin editado en Francia, este cómic en su origen autoeditado y distribuido en Québec hace 28 años marcó la vanguardia del relato autobiográfico. Su autora, auténtica pionera, nos brinda su experiencia como bailarina de striptease en locales, algunos de ellos escalofriantes, de Montréal. Sus primeros lectores fueron sus clientes y compañeras de trabajo, y el material fue pasando de mano en mano hasta llegar a grandes autores, como Aline Kominsky y su marido Robert Crumb, y Chris Ware, que lo veneran. Su diseño naif contrasta de forma sorprendente con la dureza de su argumento.»
Es especial por su candidez. Con dibujos casi infantiles, Rancourt nos comunica un tema sórdido con extraordinaria naturalidad. Mélody es serena, y esa serenidad se transmite a lo largo de cada tira aún cuando contienen historias de violencia y abuso. Su inocencia es imperturbable. Es fácil imaginar a Rancourt repartiendo folios fotocopiados con sus viñetas sencillas en los bares en los que trabajaba, ofreciéndole a clientes, compañeras y jefes sus propios retratos incómodos sin ningún tipo de inquina, tan sólo para compartir. Quiero pensar que fue feliz bailando y desnudándose para otros, tanto literal como figurativamente. Tras su inesperado éxito y haber inspirado a toda una generación del cómic, Rancourt ha desaparecido. Dicen que se ha hecho un hueco en la heteronorma y vive con su marido y cinco hijos en una granja canadiense. Me pregunto qué estará escribiendo allí, y si algún día podremos leerlo.
Una rareza delicada y personal, Melody es el testimonio tremendamente original de una mente perspicaz.
October 10, 2017
This really is a classic of autobiographical comics. Rancourt is super honest in her recounting of her time as a nude dancer and the struggles she had with her not so great husband. You can see her forming herself as a person through the story and even in the writing and art of the comics. I think it is an amazing thing, so see someone emerge through art and self disclosure.
November 20, 2015
Fascinating, hard to put down graphic collection originally published in Canada in 1985. The main character melody is quite sympathetic, and I was disappointed that the book ended as I was willing to keep reading more episodes.
Chris Ware provides an interesting introduction.
Chris Ware provides an interesting introduction.
September 6, 2025
Còmic autobiogràfic ambientat al Quebec dels anys 80, on la seva autora, Sylvie Rancourt, explica els seus inicis com a stripper des d'una mirada sense filtres. Els dibuixos infantils reforcen el contrast entre la innocència del personatge i la duresa del món que retrata. L'argument, desdramatitzat i sense judicis morals, fa que la lectura sorprengui per les seva honestedat quam ensenya situacions o personatges tèrbols. M'ha sorprès l'empenta de la seva autora, ja que el còmic va començar com una autoedició venuda als mateixos clients dels clubs, i avui dia Rancourt és reconeguda com una pionera i una de les autores més importants del còmic autobiogràfic.
October 29, 2023
100% autsaider comics! Un trabajo de edicion muy bien hecho, una historia a lo chester brown. Unas tranches de vie que se leen con gusto, lo suficientemente densas para pasar unos muy buenos momentos, del fanzine a la bd. Ojalá sigan publicando mas cosas de Sylvie Rancourt.
September 15, 2019
About a naive gal whose lazy husband gets her to go be a dancer because he will not work. He muddles with schemes and she eventually gets herself in dangerous situations. Surreal, some swearing.
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November 20, 2015I read this because a patron contested its inclusion in the library's collection. It is definitely a book for adults, but because of Melody's optimism and childlike naivete, the reader is drawn to her and roots for things to work out well for her. There is plenty of adult content in the form of sex and nudity (to be expected if you read the title) but it isn't salacious and it's clear it's the reason Melody's telling her story is to share as opposed to titillate. Even Nick, who is as deadbeat-boyfriend as you can get, is presented as a complex person that you can't just relegate to stereotype status. Which, perhaps, is what Melody is trying to do for herself through her readers. It worked for me. Like many of us, I am guilty of dehumanizing people who work in the sex industry. Sylvie Rancourt has helped to remind me that they are all real people with hopes and dreams and relationships and complex emotions.
October 20, 2015
via NYPL - In the mid-80s, Rancourt chronicled her life as a nude dancer in clubs in Montreal. While the art is crude at best, Rancourt's honesty and lack of mission statement make this book a real winner. She's able to share her life - with all its good intentions and bad choices - without judging anybody involved, allowing all the characters' actions and words to speak for themselves and giving readers the freedom to observe and react in their own way to her unsparing honesty. It's a worthwhile book for that alone.
October 8, 2015
This was on a "must-read graphic novels by Canadian women" list. It's very sweet and earnest. No apologies for the career chosen, just stories from her life.
NSFW read - lots of nudity, but it's tasteful. More of a "nudity as everyday" tone over being gratuitous.
The stories, while not deep, are very thoughtful, making for a compelling read.
NSFW read - lots of nudity, but it's tasteful. More of a "nudity as everyday" tone over being gratuitous.
The stories, while not deep, are very thoughtful, making for a compelling read.
June 26, 2016
The art and storytelling are amateurish, but those primitive qualities help offset the sordid details of the story by adding innocence and charm. A collection of mini-comics from the 1980s, this work is more a series of vignettes than a true graphic novel though Rancourt does manage to pull together some of the elements and characters from previous chapters for the final episode.
November 2, 2015
I found this work more interesting as a historical/cultural document than anything. Aesthetically, there's not much here. But if you go into Melody with that understanding, it's notable as an early example of autobiographical comics.
November 5, 2015
Very funny and charming. Bizarrely innocent and sweet while being totally risque!
May 16, 2016
I read this to celebrate Banned Books Week. It's an interesting graphic novel full of sex and drugs.
July 30, 2022
I love Montreal and I love comics. Strip bars, though, were always frustrating (oddly, worse when a girlfriend worked there). But Melony is an innocent portrait of an enthusiast who doesn’t shy away from the seedy without falling into the exploitive. The primitive art works perfectly and, as the afterward notes, a reader is never lost in her lines. That’s an accomplishment.
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June 15, 2024Psé. Tiene algo de gracia por la parte autobiográfica, underground y morbosa. Pero el dibujo y la narración son bastante reguleros. Leído en un fanzine tendría más sentido.
July 26, 2017
The questionable reality of this zine-style comic is interesting and complements the gritty story; without that 4th-wall break at the end of every chapter, the cardboard characters wouldn't stand up. The characters are depressingly real and the scene is well-explored, for all its point-of-view limitations. That said, the art is just not good enough to tell the story properly. The graphic novel format is one that demands the art at least suffice for and at best lend additional semantic content to the text. The art in this was so bad as to actively obscure meaning: there seems to be only one mouth shape, so characters smile while expressing discontent; every panel with more than one person in it looks crowded, reducing the visual impact of larger panels depicting crowds; there are far more characters than distinguishable face/body types and identifying the person in each panel is a challenge. I do recognize that this art style is strongly associated with the zine format, but that doesn't make it good.
June 19, 2020
*re-read* i never agreed with the descriptions of melody/rancourt as a naive, "childlike" savant who didn't know what she was doing when she "inadvertently" became an originator of the autobiocomic. i agree with other reviewers who instead call her an optimist who gives people chances, but one who is also distinctly aware of her own skills, life, and surroundings. i would also add that it seems to me a common refrain to underestimate both the intelligence and the free will of sex workers when they don't fall neatly into categories of victims or fully in control of every part of their jobs. one of the things i didn't notice nearly as much on my first read was how incredibly astutely rancourt captures the slivers of victories against bosses when you are the one on the front lines of the labour and someone else (whether in your personal life or work life) is taking a larger cut of your resources. melody is so much more in control than anyone around her believes she is, and so is rancourt.
June 7, 2016
I get the concept of this graphic novel but the art style killed me. I found after a while, my eyes started to go blurry because I just couldn't invest myself in the characters. That's also probably because you just couldn't like the characters. I got nothing from them and I just could careless what happened to them. It's also very grim but that's the reality of this story. I thought it would remind me of "Call Me Sasha" but unfortunately for me, it didn't.
I just found it very hard to get through and had to quit about 70% in.
I just found it very hard to get through and had to quit about 70% in.
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