Leve Ta Jambe, Mon Poisson Est Mort! =: Lift Your Leg, My Fish Is Dead!

The art in the beginning is the closest similarity I've ever seen to Rick Geary's so that kept me happy through the .5-1 pagers that kept annoyingly switching from vertical to horizontal and were occasionally completely over my head. It's also got (even for her) a heavy flow of the theme expressed in the book's title which as a guy can only be understood theoretically and through association but the slapstick of it is quite funny in her "ROADKILL IS ALWAYS THE MAIN COURSE" sort of way ! Once her art begins to become the signature Julie Doucet, that I adore so, the book gets incredible AND hysterical! The short stories make at least enough sense and the "longer" stories feverishly remind me how much I am in love with this woman! When you see how she portrays herself and you're still in thrall it must be true love! My favorite details of her work are the chronically messy tables and floors- especially in the kitchen where there is enough room to fit all kinds of Doucettery- and a coffee pot. The review on the back by one Village Voice Dick made zero sense to me until about three-quarters of the way through the book when I realized it was a one of the best clinical deductions I've ever read in a review: "Doucet has sweetness and daring, and a self-destructive melancholy no male cartoonist has come close to capturing."