Cicatrix by Elle [in Booklist]
Cicatrix, or scar, encompasses multilayered meanings in queer, Manila-based artist Elle’s U.S. debut. They begin with “a firm bump … just below [their] left ear, about the diameter of a five-peso coin” – and a confession that “every time I get sick, I always think it’s karmic payback.” Their doctor, they learn, was Imelda Marcos’ personal ENT, and their access was made possible by their grandparents’ intimate relationship with Ferdinand and Imelda – and from which Elle’s relatives continue to benefit.
Outside the Philippines, uncles work for ICE and the CIA; a cousin is employed at a defense company where “If I actually told you … I’d be obligated to kill you” is only “kind of a joke.” As they expose their tainted connections, the bump – initially a small orange circle – swells until it covers almost an entire page.
Succinct at just 48 pages, their autobiographical focus appears as mostly brown, gray, and green panels of expressive selfies, intensified with accents in orange and red. Despite a negative biopsy, they’re ironically left “a full-blown hypochondriac,” their seemingly healthy body incurably scarred from inherited afflictions.
Review: “Graphic Novels,” Booklist, July 2022
Readers: Adult
Published: 2022
Discussion