The Bad Doctor starts out (after the front matter) with a full-page, wordless, moody, autumnal grayscale illustration. There's an office building in the foreground, a silhouetted leafless tree in the background with a crow or blackbird perched, cawing, we see the hindquarters of a parked car, and a person who reads as young and female running through a little patch of grass, nearing the border where the grass ends and the parking lot begins. She's running toward the doctor's office. I wouldn't say there's exactly foreboding in the image. There's a mixture of the purely mundane, with a bit of Poe perhaps wryly splashed in. A few birds fly overhead on this overcast day.
On the next page we arrive at a six-panel scheme with lots of gray in the panels and quite a bit of white space in between. There is a lot of gray in these pages. White, black, gray. But mostly gray. This is a book that is interested in the spaces in between. Not in clear-cut drama so much as nuance and messiness. Not to say the opening segment isn't a bit dramatic. It is. But dramatic in many ways at once, ways that draw away from each other and bring humor and mundanity into the mix. A young woman runs into the doctor's office and a doctor, the protagonist, who has to pee really badly and hasn't had any time to do it, and is really looking forward to it, is called to an emergency. A guy has collapsed by a bus stop. The doctor runs out on an elderly patient who has just entered his office in order to deal with the medical drama--but the other drama, the drama of him having to pee, is always there to remind us this doctor is merely human.
By the time he gets outside, the guy who fell is all bloody but sitting on the bus, the doctor gets on the bus and the older many who fell is a bit erratic and belligerent. He doesn't want help. Meanwhile a seemingly tough younger guy on the bus faints at the sight of blood.
The patient won't get off the bus so another one of the medical staff takes over for the doctor to do the best she can patching people up and the doctor goes back to the office.
Is he really a hero? In the course of this book, we learn that if he is, his heroism isn't related to his running out to help a patient in crisis (and then coming back to the office and finally, finally, getting to pee), but in his ability to be vulnerable, acknowledge his own struggles, to let his vulnerability and uncertainty inform his medical work. It's about empathy and moving away from a medical model of doctor as unquestionable authority figure.
There was a lot I enjoyed about this book. The humor, the exploration of personal and professional struggles, a meditation on different ways of relating to people, and ways of relating to oneself as one tries (and struggles) to relate to people. It was a bit hard to see the way the doctor pulls away from some of his loved ones (creating hurtful distances), and I wish some of that was addressed a bit more. It was addressed in terms of the protagonist's narrative arc, but I didn't find a place in the book where the protagonist acknowledges and takes accountability for his behavior with certain people in his life who he has, I think, hurt. And it's just a bit worrisome to me the roles women do and don't play in this book.
But, without focusing on the things that I find worrisome (which I'm still thinking about and perhaps if I read the book again my review of it will change?) I found this to be a quietly engaging and meaningful book and interestingly crafted work. (I keep wondering how close this is to memoir, and checking the book to make sure it's a graphic novel and not a graphic memoir. (The doctor in the book is Iwan James and the author a doc named Ian Williams). Hmmmm.
Also, I added bicycles and LGBTQ to my list of bookshelves/tags because though the protagonist (who is in a straight relationship) often goes bicycling with his gay best friend.
Below I'm quoting a couple GR reviews that I enjoyed/appreciated:
Unlike most medical narratives that tend to reinforce the hierarchical position of doctors as the arbiters of knowledge and patients (particularly those with disabilities) as receivers of knowledge, “The Bad Doctor” complicates narratives of disability and medical authority.
- Derek Newman-Stille
A masterful look at the life of a small-town doctor in Wales.
Dr. James cares deeply for his patients but can only do so much for them. We catch glimpses of his friendships and professional relationships.
In flashbacks, we see that he has OCD and has struggled with fixations on satanic images and anxious, repetitive thoughts. Through a relationship with a patient who also has OCD, Dr. James begins to slowly open up about his condition instead of hiding.
I loved the artwork in this; the wide open Welsh landscapes that Dr. James and his friend bicycle through; the expressive body language. Wonderful. Highly recommended if you are interested in medicine and/or disability narratives.
- Sandy