Skin by Mieke Versyp, Illustrated by Sabien Clement, Translated by Sammy Koot (2025) Belgian artists Mieke Versyp and Sabien Clement’s 2025 graphic novel, Skin, shows what can emerge when the skin of your old life is shed and you become closer to your true self. Rita is separated from her husband and her daughter has moved out, leaving her to live in solitude. Detached from her previous life, she boldly decides to start nude modeling for a drawing class, feigning previous experience. Arranging these classes is Esther, a brilliant illustrator who sees beyond what is in front of her, drawing the essence underneath each subject. At home, she takes care of stick bugs, tiny creatures that cannot stay in one skin, molting and reemerging multiple times as they age. In the process, they can lose a leg, unable to regrow this lost part unless they are young. Ester is plagued by past trauma and anxiety, rarely going out and connecting beyond her art classes. Slowly, through this chance meeting, the two women form a bond through their idiosyncrasies and urge for human connection. Illustrated with soft watercolors and line drawing, and arranged with varied comic frame placement, Skin is a delicate collage of imagery sprinkled across each page. Sabien Clement draws her figures in a way that makes them seem larger than life while being slight and fragile, perfectly matching the essence of Mieke Versyp’s portrait of friendship, aging and change. A sweet glimpse into the vitality of connection, Skin is a beautiful ode to the human ability to grow closer and closer to our true selves. Grand Tour by Elisa Gonzalez (2023) Figs in the tree, figs on the stones. Stains of rotting fruit spread and shadow at the sun’s whim. The steady dissolution of body into form that signals the progress of a masterpiece. Elisa Gonzalez’s 2023 debut poetry collection shines with elegant prose centered on grief, family and memory. In the second poem in the collection, “After My Brother’s Death, I Reflect on The Iliad,” she moves through the range of pain after her brother’s murder. Gonzalez’s grief follows her, purposefully present when she replays the news footage of his murder, but always lingering no matter the daily task. As she explores this grief, mixed with memory and childhood reminisce, she mirrors it with the grief of Priam in The Iliad. In another standout poem, “Epistemology Of The Shower,” Gonzalez tells of uncovering her queerness, of youthful sexual discovery, and the shame that overshadows these moments, created through societal expectations and religion. “I learned you can separate pleasure from / disgrace, through / it’s hard to make a habit of pure happiness, / when there’s so much / to know.” Elisa Gonzalez has yet to release another work, but her 2023 collection is a noteworthy debut from a poignant, new poet. Her work has also appeared in The New Yorker and The Paris Review. No. 141 By Hana Zittel
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