Seeing on their website that my library had recently acquired it, I put a hold on The Third Person, not knowing anything about it other than that it was a graphic memoir and had been tagged as LGBT.
After reading (and loving) Gender Queer earlier this year, that made it an insta-reserve for me. Imagine my surprise upon checking it out and realising that it’s been blurbed by Maia Kobabe eirself! Imagine my surprise also when I picked it up, literally, and realised it was an almost-1000 page behemoth of a graphic novel. I was a little intimidated - that is, until I started and finished reading it in two sittings, reluctantly interrupted only by work/sleep.
The Third Person does so much. It’s a memoir; it’s an exploration of mental illness and, specifically, dissociative identity disorder (D.I.D., formerly known as multiple personality disorder), and what that actually looks like. It’s about the barriers that exist between trans individuals and life-saving, gender affirming and mental health care.
It’s both general and specific. Emma’s story is so uniquely her own, and yet she canvasses such a swathe of experiences, it’s hard not to relate. Who hasn’t been involved in an unhealthy or even toxic relationship? Had a bad therapist? Felt shame about their past, or about parts of themselves?
It’s also incredibly raw. I can understand why it isn’t for everyone; at times, I felt so tense reading it, it was like I had a physical weight on my chest. At others, it’s almost painfully repetitive, but intentionally so. The repetition emulates the therapeutic process, and Emma’s fraught relationship with her therapist, Toby, spans hundreds of pages for a reason. Personally, I found it impressive that Emma was able not only to recall so much of their exchanges, but also to draw them in a way that remained compelling, even when the setting, and therefore the basic structure of each page, down to the individual panels, was the same.
Some parts are confusing. Again, I felt that this was intentional, and if not intentional, then at least thematically consistent. In the beginning, I wondered why colour or some other visual cue wasn’t used to distinguish between various alters. For example, Emma wears wigs: why not assign each alter a different wig, to make them easily identifiable?
The trouble with this approach is that, even to Emma, her alters are not easily identifiable. It was only after years of therapy, research, reflection, and work that she was able to produce this memoir at all. Creating cut-and-dry characters would have done nothing to communicate the intense confusion she must have felt after years of dissociation and memory loss.
With this book, Grove has replicated the fragmentation she experienced for so many years in a powerful, unforgettable reading experience. As a result, I have closed the pages on The Third Person with a much deeper understanding of D.I.D. than I ever had before.