Graphic Memoir Review: Plate Tectonics

Plate Tectonics

Boom! Studios

Writer & Artist: Margaux Motin

Plate Tectonics is a graphic memoir written and illustrated by Margaux Motin and published by Boom! – Archaia. It is at once a humorous and sad take on heterosexual relationships, social norms and expectations, and parenting. There are many gems in the entirety of the piece, but it does stray into self-importance/indulgence, at times. But how does the whole of the piece hold up? Here’s a closer look.

So, it’s time to have a talk about memoirs. I’m not against the genre as a rule, but I do often find it self-important. The writer must believe they have something to say about their own lives that are inherently interesting or important for readers to know about. And if you’re a normal human being who doesn’t do an extreme sport or activity, then it means the author feels as though they perceive a normal situation in some profound way that they think would be meaningful to readers. That’s the kind of memoir Plate Tectonics is. It’s about everyday life. It’s relatable, funny, sad–normal. And it’s true, Minot is insightful and witty. She’s funny and candid. Which isn’t easy with the subject matter she tackles her. She finds herself in a midlife crisis. A single mother of 32, in the midst of a divorce and searching for meaning, this story is broken into small vignettes that are loosely connected thematically in roughly chronological order. The only thing that’s missing is a tie to the title of the piece. Plate Tectonics makes sense, in terms of the subject matter, but it doesn’t tie back to the piece as a whole. No overall theme that brings it full circle and lets readers come to a deeper understanding at the end.

There aren’t many of them. Just the narrator, her daughter, her best friend, and her boyfriend. While there is character development throughout the book, as readers watch her daughter age, her relationship blossom, and decay. But in the end, little is resolved and it doesn’t seem as though the narrator or readers come to a deeper understanding of relationships, motherhood, love–or really anything. Unfortunately, this makes the piece as a whole feels like a let down at the end.

Minot’s art is as beautiful as it is unconventional. Panels don’t feature here–she throws them out and lets every page be a free-flowing scene with multiple images of the same person doing different things all over. It creates a unique flow on each page that is a joy. Her use of color is profound. She uses it in sparse splashes, illustrating those details that she wants to bring added attention to while letting simple and lines and white space guide the reader’s eyes. And lastly, the speech balloons. They are color-coded, and it’s cool that the words often spill out of them, but I can’t end this review without talking about the font. I know a cursive font added something to this piece in terms of overall. . . experience, but by and large, I hate reading cursive. While it’s not a deal-breaker, can’t help but wonder if a less loopy, more easily read font would make this graphic memoir more readable.