Our first graphic novel review! Likely the first of many, because there’s a lot of great queer horror work happening in this format. Full disclosure: I didn’t know this was a graphic novel when I checked it out on Libby (also, if you don’t know Libby, immediately learn more about this free digital resource for e-books and audiobooks, likely available at your friendly local library). The person who recommended it to me didn’t mention it, and I will not make the same mistake with you, dear readers. Nor will I assume you’re one of those people who thinks graphic novels are for children, because that is silly.
The premise of Boys Weekend, by nonbinary author and illustrator Mattie Lubchansky, is this: Sammie, who is newly out is trans, accepts an invitation to a bachelor weekend with their college buddies in the near-future floating pleasure city (think Vegas but WAY more) over the ocean that turns out to be anything but a pleasure.
So many brilliant things are happening here. Narratively, we get to meet Sammie’s queer friend and their wife before the bachelor weekend, and we get a glimpse into their present life – a life that is very different from the person they were in college. We also get some very real conversations about the challenges and the value of keeping parts of your life together, and having tough identify conversations with people. In this case, the groom-to-be Adam is “trying to be better” about using Sammie’s proper name and pronouns. If you’re not trans, it’s really easy to apply the same themes to, say, an uncle who comes to Christmas and always asks when you’re going to have kids, or a neighbor who keeps telling you to leave your nonprofit job for something that pays before you retire on social security and don’t have kids to rely on to take care of you. For instance.
Then we meet the guys. The dudes. The BROS. Oh man. Oh men. No men have ever manned harder than these men, including Adam, who is trying. In a half-assed sort of way. Sammie and the readers all know this was a mistake. But now that they’re here on this floating city, we also know they’re going to stick it out.
Which brings me to the worldbuilding. El Campo, this floating city, is everything that is wrong with capitalism and development, and everything that is delightfully awful about humanity. It’s loud and obnoxious and wasteful and stupid and beautiful and decadent and gives no fucks. The kind of place you’d never go but secretly sort of wish you could go if they’d kick all the other people out (except you work at a nonprofit, so you’d never be able to afford it – ha!). And there’s potentially a cult? Weird matching vests, strange occurrences…yeah, definitely something going on.
The misadventures of the bachelor party crew are hilarious and cringey. The most mind-bending sequence is the uber-popular bonding activity Dangergame, where guests can hunt and kill their own clones! Humans…wow. The catharsis of confronting a past version of yourself is intense, and there’s a dangling thread that I won’t reveal, but it becomes a really satisfying part of the resolution.
The building up of the mystery of what is happening at El Campo is nice and creepy, and when shit starts to hit the fan, it is fast and gorey. Many people die in excessively violent ways. This is absolutely fitting for the setting and is deeply satisfying in a way that I maybe shouldn’t examine too closely. It’s okay when it’s fake…
It’s a fast read (re: graphic novel), and a wildly fun time that manages to hit some deeply resonant themes about identity, friendship, and personal power. In other words, go read it.
Rating:
By Tiffany Albright
–
Thanks for reading! Interested in being featured as a guest blogger? Pitch us your review or think piece on queer horror!
Stay spooky!
💀🏳️🌈🔪