Kimiko Does Cancer

September 28, 2020
Tobimatsu navigates the daily consequences of living with breast cancer as a queer woman in this direct, yet gentle-voiced, debut graphic memoir. At 25, the lawyer notices a lump in her breast. The diagnosis is indeed what she feared, albeit a treatable form of cancer. She deals with conflicting opinions on whether chemo, sets of drugs, or even a preventive mastectomy are the answer, as well as various side effects from drugs and friends who don’t get why she can’t party anymore. Her girlfriend and she try to pause their relationship drama, but “knew things had to end,” even though her partner had understood “more than anyone else about how cancer had affected” Kimiko. Meanwhile, her parents care, but can’t truly understand, and, as a politically active Asian-Canadian, Kimiko finds the predominant culture’s “We kick cancer’s butt” narrative false. But as she goes into remission, what emerges is a woman who has learned to care better for herself. Geniza’s expressive figure drawings show a keen eye for the close-up, with a simple color palate of muted blues, blacks, and grays that call to mind Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home. Kimiko’s strong debut offers a fresh perspective in the growing graphic medicine category.

October 15, 2020
I'm not a big fan of the common sentiment, ?Cancer made me a better person, ' Tobimatsu admits in her author's note. But then, cancer did make me a better person. Diagnosed at 25 with a rare form of breast cancer?mucinous, Tobimatsu is assured, good news! It's non-aggressive with high survival rights. Surgery makes her cancer-free. Although her follow-up care initially lacks consensus, the Canadian health-care system proves enviable in accessibility and thoroughness (ahem!). Recovery happens, but unsurprisingly, everything changes: fertility vanishes, menopause overwhelms; relationships with family, lovers, friends, colleagues require constant negotiation; daily life exhausts; depression settles. As a mixed-race, queer, Japanese Canadian employment/human-rights lawyer, Tobimatsu's observations are especially astute in response to the ubiquitous, pink-ribboned messaging: The mainstream cancer narrative was so white, feminized and apolitical; the peppiness seemed to gloss over the way cancer affected people differently based on race and class. Filipino Canadian artist Geniza presents Tobimatsu's memoir in immersive black/white/pale-green panels, especially affecting in capturing the vast breadth of Tobimatsu's ever-changing expressions. Together, the debut collaborative pair create raw, tenacious strength?literally.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2020, American Library Association.)

August 15, 2020
A queer, mixed-race woman chronicles her experience with breast cancer. In her first book, human rights lawyer Tobimatsu teams up with Filipina Canadian illustrator and comic artist Geniza, and it's clear that the two Toronto natives share a common spirit. Refreshingly, neither the author nor the illustrator attempts to overdramatize the author's cancer experience. But as they show, even successful treatment and apparent remission can leave lasting emotional and psychological scars. The narrative is chronological and conversational, taking readers through the author's experiences, and the illustrations reinforce the feeling of matter-of-fact practicality, with subtle tension lying just underneath the surface. Tobimatsu felt distracted from her work and from many other once-important elements of her life. Her libido suffered, as did her relationship with her girlfriend, and she had sometimes-difficult interactions with her parents, doctors, and other cancer patients. Most of this material will strike a responsive chord with those who have dealt with cancer in some form or another, yet the author's age at the time of diagnosis (25), her ethnicity, and her sexual orientation brought other issues into play. "The mainstream cancer narrative," she writes, "was so white, feminized and apolitical; the peppiness appeared to gloss over the way cancer affected people differently based on age and class." In the aftermath of her radiation treatment, she began experiencing hot flashes and other perimenopausal symptoms more common among women almost twice her age. Ultimately, she was able to cope, but that doesn't mean everything is perfect. "Fears linger in the background and surface whenever my body feels off....But more than the fear, it's the daily changes that I fear the most," Tobimatsu writes in the epilogue. "Pre-cancer, some combination of personality and privilege allowed me to be easy-going, flexible, adaptable. That's not possible anymore. Now I require so much more to feel comfortable." An engaging and inspirational account of dealing with illness and its perception.

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