Bastien a 8 ans. Et sa maman est malade. Souvent, elle fait ce que son papa et ses grands-parents appellent des « crises ». D’après les médecins, elle souffrirait de « troubles bipolaires à tendance schizophrénique ». c’est pour ça qu’il faut régulièrement l’emmener à l’hôpital, dans des établissements spécialisés, pour prendre des médicaments. Bastien n’aime pas trop ça car quand elle revient, elle ne réagit plus à rien. elle n’a plus aucun sentiment. Plus aucune envie. S’inspirant de son propre vécu, Espé livre un récit aussi personnel qu’universel, celui d’un enfant perdu dans une réalité où l’imaginaire est le seul refuge ; dans son regard, on ne lit qu’incompréhension et douleur face à la maladie de sa mère.
All the people we pass think Mama's like them. She looks like everyone else. She's not missing an arm.... she's not in a wheelchair. She's not hooked up to some machine, breathing through tubes... she doesn't have a white cane. She doesn't have cancer with chemo leaving her skinny and bald... no prothesis... no strange deformity.
When we walk down the street, no one notices that Mama's been sick for a long time. Her illness is invisible. Silent. Shameful. But it's always there... at her back. pg. 66
This is Espé's account of growing up with a schizophrenic mother. It's a sad, harrowing book. Being a child, Espé can't fully understand his mother's illness. But he is very aware of the dark shadow hanging around his mother. It's scary to see her fly into rages, attack her husband while accusing him of being Satan, claiming shadows are raping her in her bedroom, etc. etc.
There are rare days when Espé gets to see a better side of his mother. She takes him into the woods to pick strawberries. She shops with him for new shoes. But mostly his memories of her are either of her having a violent 'episode' or being comatose and vegetative because of all the drugs she has to take to 'calm her down.' She's away for long stretches of time in various mental hospitals.
The art is ugly but I think it's almost perfect for this type of book. Schizophrenia isn't pretty and neither is the art. Espé is good at capturing schizophrenia in his drawings. Some examples are when schizophrenia is a huge shadow monster following his mother around and touching her with its tentacles, or when she succumbs to schizophrenia Espé portrays her as diving into a red pool, submerged in a blood-like substance.
As a child, Espé shares stuff about his mother with his friends, and since he's so young, his mother takes on a rather mythical stature with his childhood friends. They imagine that she has superpowers like Wolverine or Jean Grey. After witnessing Espé's mother flying into madness and fighting off four people, they are in shock and awe and it seems Espé gets a little respect for having - what the kids see as - a powerful mother.
The book ends with It's a very sad and emotionally devastating ending.
The epilogue shows
TL;DR Don't read this if you are easily depressed. It's NOT an uplifting book. The ending is particularly sad. It's a good book, and I like the way it shows mental illness, especially through a child's eyes, but it's quite sad. Read at your own risk.
Usually I'd criticize the ugly artwork, but I actually think it is serving its purpose in this context.
Polite warning upfront: this review, and the book it's about, deal with serious mental health issues.
For this review, I need to get a bit more personal. I am the youngest of three brothers, and my oldest brother was a schizophrenic, while I was still a kid.
The Parakeet is the story of the 8-year-old author, Bastien, dealing with his mother being bipolar and schizophrenic. I won't say we had the same kind of intense upbringing, but I certainly recognise a lot.
I recognise enough for me to have read the latter half of the book, crying my eyes out. Life for a schizophrenic has always seemed like a living hell to me, and living with someone who has the illness, well, it rips through your family like a hurricane.
Bastien lives in the French countryside with his parents, and his grandparents on his mother's side.
His recollections are drawn as two to three page vignettes, in a sweet, very French comic book style, coloured in mostly monochromatic palette (turning into a screaming red when his mother loses control). Only the last story, the titular The Parakeet, is longer.
Bastien's mother's suffering is immense, and the book is great at showing how the family tries to deal with her pain, while trying not to ignore their own pain. And there is a real tender sweetness there.
The Parakeet will break your heart, but some books deserve for your heart to be broken by them. This is one of them.
(Kindly received an ARC from Graphic Mundi through Edelweiss)
Content notes for suicidality, falling down stairs, losing teeth, bipolar, asylum, images of playmobile made out to be racial stereotypes of Indigenous people, and loss of a parent.
Not a comic rated in the traditional sense but fairly emotionally intense, and at my library at least, shelved in the adult section.
Keywords that came to mind reading this book: childhood, family, reproduction, loss, and making sense.
Looking at the writing it was extremely effective. Recreating the powerlessness and naïve perspective of a child. I was pleasantly surprised by the positive/imaginative spin Bastian's school peers put on the stories they hear from him about his mother. Not to say that the book turns away from the negative parts of Bastian's life, but I guess I would have expected children to further ostracize him for having a mother with bipolar so it was nice. It's also made extremely clear that Bastian's family supports and loves his mother - who is named Marie. I also appreciated the way we got to see Marie loving her son.
The art was simple but very well done. I appreciated how the single colour changed from chapter to chapter. The pages were varied enough to easily keep my attention but not in any way that might make them the least bit hard to follow.
An outsider looking in, The Parakeet is centered around the mental health diagnosis and treatment of Marie. I don't recall the time period coming up at all, but Espé himself was born in 1974 so it seems likely modeled on French care in the late 70s and through the 80s. As someone who works outside the mental health field and across the pond it's a bit hard to place this book in a larger context. I really want to be optimistic about how mental health treatments have improved, but I am consistently reminded in my day-to-day life at how many people continue to be failed by the culture we live in. Although that is certainly not all on the mental health industry, even if it manifests in ways we categorize as mental health. Doctor's can't prescribe housing for instance, and the supports we offer people who can't work require living far below the poverty line. Not that either of those things really relate to this story of Bastian and Marie. But you know me and tangents. To wrap this thought up, I can't help but find the difference between how people talk about their negative experiences with electro shock therapy and the glowing ways it is described on medical websites a bit concerning.
In describing his mother's life, we get a diagnosis, but there is still a bit of a blur around events; as I mentioned earlier, Espé really hones in on the powerless and naïve understandings of being a child in this situation. Which I sometimes find frustrating, but I felt balanced out in the vignettes that Espé chose to show. It still felt like the experience was being curated and he wasn't just vomiting the facts back at us.
This certainly shouldn't be the only book on bipolar schizophrenia one should ever read. I appreciated it was blurbed by fellow graphic medicine creator Rachel Lindsay. Whose book RX: A Graphic Memoir is a more first person story of bipolar diagnosis - although occurring much more recently and more in my area of the world. Link in the cards to my review.
Class was not deeply analyzed per say in the book, but Espé does highlight some vignettes that have to do with work. At one point, Marie's former co-workers stop by to chat about how things will be fine when she returns to work soon, only to be confronted by a mental health crises that none of them are prepared for. The second story, again of an outsider grossly underestimating the seriousness of the situation, we see a social worker stop by the house who is very skeptical of Marie's lack of productivity as it were.
Race was very one note, as these things do sort of go, although with some very dated/dubious playmobile toys making appearances.
And while everyone in this book is apparently very heterosexual, and heterosexual reproduction/family are fairly central, I did appreciate that binary gender roles went largely ignored. Because of Marie's struggle to care for her son (who she loves deeply) Bastian is often in the care of his grandparents and both his father and grandfather seem to share in child rearing tasks.
And to conclude, I think I will go with four out of five stars. A very tough read full of emotions and love.
“Mama’s having an episode…and I’m not sure if I’ll see her when I get home.”
This is one of those harrowing accounts which really chews you up and spits you out, which makes you wonder just how traumatic it must have been for the author to endure first-hand.
The drawing is beautifully done and the colouring really reflects the dark, shifting moods of the story very well, making for a troubling yet powerful experience.
Yes, these are tears in my eyes. All throughout this book, I was impressed by the art style that I think expertly captures a child's view of mental illness, and by the coloring that really paints the mood. The episodic nature of each little tale I was less sure about. But damn if this author/illustrator didn't pull it all together in such a poignant and heartbreaking way. This is definitely going onto my list of graphic novels that I would highly recommend, with the disclaimer that the depiction of schizophrenia and its effects might be too much for some readers.
Terrible Bd sur la gestion d’une personne bipolaire. Bastien enfant de 8 ans raconte avec ses mots la vie avec sa maman bipolaire. Les crises, les moments de calme, les hospitalisations, les traitements et au milieu sa vie d’enfant. Belle réussite
this book is stunning, in artwork, story, emotions, everything. I’ve read many stories from the perspective of the afflicted person but never their family, and it was a gift to be able to see bipolar through a child’s eyes
"Parakeet" to komiks o depresji widzianej oczyma dziecka. To przejmująca relacja 8-latka, widzącego co mieszanka dwubiegunówki i schizofrenii robi z jego mamą, którą bardzo kocha i której teraz potrzebuje bardziej niż na jakimkolwiek innym etapie życia. Siła tej pozycji tkwi w zastosowanych środkach. Kreska Espe jest cartoonowa, przypomina klasyczne francuskie komiksy dla dzieciaków i budzi przyjemne skojarzenia. Cały myk polega na tym, że autor tę słodycz zestawia z mocną i bardzo dosadną historią, której towarzyszy obrazowa, przejmująca, a często także przerażająca metaforyka. Sądziłem, że fragmentaryczność osłabi wymowę fabuły, ale tak nie jest, bo wszystko i tak zmierza do nieuchronnego finału, a całość odbiera się jako monolit. Do świetnych rysunków dodajcie granie kolorami (szczególnie czerwień w najbardziej dramatycznych momentach robi wrażenie) i te przejmujące momenty, w których koniec rozdziału zostawia was z dziwnym uczuciem będącym mieszanką współczucia, zakłopotania i wzruszenia.
Powiem szczerze, że gdy czytałem o czym mniej więcej "The Parakeet" opowiada, nie sądziłem, że to komiks dla mnie, bo sporo pozycji o wszelkich chorobach i przypadłościach już powstało i raczej trudno mnie na tym polu zaskoczyć. Zaufałem głównie entuzjastycznym recenzjom i tym razem się nie zawiodłem
Oh, wow. I started reading this and pretty immediately knew it was going to be a tough one; well-written, but really tough content to get through. And then the last chapter had me gasp out loud and pretty much wrecked me. So sad. Really good! But really sad.
The story does a pretty amazing job of portraying the difficulty of living with someone with a mental illness. It treats it with tenderness, but also lays bare how brutal it can be. Again- really good, but really difficult. Definite CW for mental illness and all that accompanies it.
Winner of French literary prize "Paroles des Patients" - basically it's for works from the "patient's" (or family's) perspective. Not just mental health issues like this one but any illness or make life challenge. One of the 2021 winners was centered around grief, the death of her mother, her last days in a nursing home.
Anyway... Based on the author's experience: Bastien is 8 years old, his mother is mentally ill. As time passes, Bastien tries to understand what's going on, tries to make sense of his mother's illness. As a child we generally think that our life is normal, so what do you do when it's crystal clear that your mom isn't normal?! Bastien does it through the cultural references around him : superheroes, jean grey, wolverine.
The juxtaposition of childhood innocence with his mother's attacks makes for a rather unique hybrid style. I don't want to give any spoilers so I'll stop right here.
3.5* for me bumped up to 4 because of the end and because it's a very important topic.
Interesting translation choice in the English edition called Parakeet instead of Parrot. There are arguments to be made for both choices but it was probably a matter of graphic design, the longer title matches the original French word length.
Just two pet peeves but they're spoilers so i won't mention them or I'll come back and update on my computer...
Powerful and incredibly sad. I was moved by this well-told story of a young boy and his family as his mother slowly descends into a mental hell that no one seems to be able to help with. It was pure coincidence that I read this after reading The Thud but both really moved me. We are delicate machines and our mental health is a precarious thing that we have little control over when things go wrong.
Bastien, 8 ans, nous raconte avec ses mots, et surtout ses images, son quotidien chaotique avec sa maman malade ; ces crises avec lesquelles il doit vivre, cette souffrance qu'il doit subir en voyant sa mère s'enfoncer, s'effondrer, se perdre toujours plus dans "sa folie".
Grâce à cet album, on entre dans l'intimité d'une famille dont la mère souffre de troubles bipolaires à tendance schizophrénique. Situé dans les années 1980, on s'aperçoit du manque d'informations, des lacunes et méconnaissances autour de cette maladie invisible si handicapante, générant d'immenses souffrances et d'angoisses pour un enfant de 8 ans.
C'est un album bouleversant de candeur, de sincérité, de brutalité, de terreur, de réalisme et d'intelligence. J'ai été très émue (aux larmes) par ce petit bonhomme qui nous livre une version beaucoup moins édulcorée de l'univers psychiatrique que dans "En attendant Bojangles".
La colorisation est réduite au strict minimum : souvent des planches unies ou bicolores dans lesquelles les situations sont brossées à grands traits. Les dessins sont d'une simplicité touchante, totalement cohérente avec les propos et l'âge de Bastien. Ces deux aspects renforcent la charge émotionnelle déjà lourde. On a la sensation d'entrer dans l'intimité des souvenirs de l'artiste, qui tente peut-être de laisser ces moments douloureux à distance, autant que possible.
An excruciating but powerful novel about how severe mental illness can impact and traumatize children who witness it. How frightening it must be to have a parental figure be so unreliable, to never know when the next violent episode will occur. For both fear and immense love to co-occur in such a little child who can only comprehend so much. Holding onto those tender moments when all was well - like traversing a forest to pick chestnuts - with a tight grasp.
It was also heart-wrenching to watch how much she - his mother - suffered as a result of her mental illnesses. I know what it's like to feel as though death is the only way to find any relief, the only option. Because the one thing you can never escape from is your own psyche. My heart aches for her. And though I don't have extensive knowledge about bipolar disorder with schizophrenic tendencies I have to believe she could've been treated better than she was. It's already traumatizing to live with a brain that can implode at any moment, and certainly further traumatizing to be in institutions where she's restrained and forcefully sedated.
The Parakeet, by Espé is, put simply, a book worth reading. Espé tells the story, his own story, of a boy -Bastien- who grows up with a mother who suffers from bipolar disorder and schizophrenic tendencies. Bastien's only refuge from the harsh realities of his life are the comforting realms of his imagination. He dreams that his mother is a superhero, strong, and fighting for good, fighting the bad away. This, he supposes is a good explanation for her frightening behavior. The Parakeet tells the story of a young child struggling to differentiate between their actual mother, and the dark side of her that takes over, driving all good, sense, and comfort out of her. A child who cares too much and fears too little to let her ruin her life, even when it ruins his. Bastien's smile warms the beautifully illustrated pages of this book all the way through, as if he cannot afford to frown, and when tragedy strikes, instead of letting her go, he holds the only thing he has left of her. The Parakeet.
Sad and affecting account of coping with a partner/parent/family member’s mental illness and of enduring love despite circumstances. Beautifully drawn and uniquely colored panels in this emotional graphic novel.
It stood out to me that the mother’s mental illness began after childbirth, and postpartum depression is now known to be associated with a child-bearer’s malnutrition and loss of nutrients during pregnancy.
I’m hopeful for continued research into the link between malnutrition and vitamin B deficiencies (particularly B12) and psychosis, and the great potential for metabolic approaches and species-appropriate nutrition (such as high-fat, very low–carbohydrate diets: ketogenic and carnivore) to eradicate such terrorizing diseases (https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles...).
May we one day better understand root cause illness and use that knowledge to end such needless terror, pain, suffering, and the use of ineffective, dangerous medications.
This comic was deep, complex, and textured in word, image, and story. I almost cried at one point!
The comic is a series of vignettes set in the 80’s told in first person by 8-year-old Bastien. Each vignette has to do with Bastien’s mother’s illness and how it affects him. Bastien’s mother, Marie, has bipolar disorder with schizophrenic tendencies and is sick much of the time that Bastien is growing up. The story is heart-wrenching, powerful, and like I said, very textured. Marie’s illness and all the people who are in Marie’s life are complex and fully realized, especially Bastien.
Huge emphasis on the images - they are powerful, sometimes funny, and extremely emotive!
Before The Parakeet, I'd not read a graphic novel; I borrowed this from my local library thinking, if I had the capacity to enjoy one, it would be something this dark in nature. What I wasn't expecting was the warmth that radiated from this book, only strenghtened by its basis in reality. The unfaltering love and empathy between mother and child (and mother and father) in the face of such hardship and pain is both beautiful and heartbreaking, and you won't make it through without a few tears. The author has done an incredible job at conveying difficult family dynamics in a way that isn't black-and-white.
A beautiful, heart-breaking, and eye-opening story. An 8 year-old sees bipolar disorder a bit differently than an adult would. The illustrations add so much more than a simple narrative could have. The colors add to the different moods. The creeping creatures stalking his mother show the inevitability of a relapse. The red colors show the out-of-control nature of his mother's episodes. I can't imagine growing up with the changeable nature of his mother. There were good times, but were they enough to make up for all of the terrible times?
A absolutely heartbreaking story of a child dealing with his mother's severe mental illness which kept her away from the house for most of his childhood and even when she was around, it was always a struggle. Very tough to get through but important to recognize the struggles that some deal with. One of the chapters particularly highlights how the mother's disability is invisible to those around but the family always has to live with the fear that another episode could always be around the corner.
Well developed graphic novel from the viewpoint of an 8 year old living with his mother's mental illness and his father's love and care for her. Tough book to read, close to home with my own daughter's mental health challenges - we have experienced some of the same things the young Bastion and his family has. It's tough, but the story needs to be told, so that people understand the life for those with mental health challenges that invade their lives, it is out of their control and a hard way to live.
Relecture d’une BD que j’avais dû lire au lycée dans le cadre d’un concours littéraire. Depuis, elle m’est toujours restée en tête. À tel point que j’ai tout fait pour la procurer à nouveau, aujourd’hui. 7 ans plus tard, je comprends tout à fait pourquoi elle m’a tant marquée. Un récit touchant du point de vue d’un enfant dont l’impuissance face à la maladie mentale de sa mère transpire des pages. La colorimétrie rend ce récit encore plus poignant, plus percutant. Quel honneur nous fait Espé en partageant son vécu d’enfant. Beaucoup beaucoup d’émotions en relisant cette BD
This is gorgeous but not an easy read. The black and single-color panels convey a lot of emotion, especially by switching up the single color used for a few cells or a page, or more. Suggest to graphic memoir readers who aren't shy about difficult mental health topics-- reader who liked Come Home, Indio should try this, too.
Beautiful artwork, involving deeply personal storyline. The end is… tough, and then sweetly hopeful. Really an amazing amount of hope throughout the whole thing. Given that it is a story about a loved one having a deep mental illness, it is a feat in itself how it communicates sympathy for both the afflicted and gratitude for those around her who never, each in their own ways, gave up. All in all I read this as more of an ode to parenthood than anything else.
Moving, sad and oh so powerful, this biographical tale of life when your mom suffers from a mental illness (bipolar disorder with schizophrenic tendencies) is as honest, raw and real as full of imagination, and Espé (Sébastien Portret) does an amazing job with both art and narrative.
I'm sure reliving all this experience was not easy on the author, but it sure pays off, at least from the point of view of the reader. As the French would say, magnifique.
The Parakeet is about the author's recollections of being a child of an ill (bipolar? schizophrenic?) parent. The story is about growing up and navigating his feelings as his mother's sickness deepens without any chance of coming out of it.
Individual scenes are moving, and the art is beautiful. Chapters are super short, which is a weak spot in the storytelling, but it's still effective overall.
Beautifully illustrated tragic memoir-adjacent story about a boy whose mother suffers from bipolar schizophrenia. The story is told through vignettes, which illustrate perfectly the way memories of such things work. There's no attempt to provide a timeline or to connect the vignettes to each other in an kind of cohesive narrative; the underlying themes do so powerfully and sufficiently.