Publisher's Weekly Review
Romanova's disarming debut graphic memoir grapples with gender, power, and bad Tinder dates. After an uncomfortable night out with an older, well-known media personality, struggling young artist Romanova resolves to ghost him. But he keeps messaging her, and as she falters in coping with academic rejection and a precariously stabilized panic disorder, she finds herself welcoming his sympathy, and accepting his offer to become her financial and emotional "patron." But the celebrity's support soon takes on a manipulative tone, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. Romanova keeps the celebrity anonymous, referring to him as "Known TV-Guy, 53" and depicting him with a paper bag over his head. Romanova's semisurreal cartooning (her protagonist wields bizarre proportions like a cracked-mirror fashion doll, seeming both monstrous and familiar) lays bare the subtle, commonplace ways that men abuse women's trust. The coloring and textures vibe with 1980s retro, but the script and cartooning are perfectly of the moment, with spot-on dialogue from her team of joke-cracking friends, thanks to a truly excellent idiomatic translation. There are also some hilarious visual gags, such as Romanova's supportive mother drawn as a Moomin. As Romanova learns to heal and understand herself, readers who have dealt with mental health struggles or unequal power dynamics in relationships will recognize and sympathize with her regenerative conclusion. (Feb.)
Booklist Review
Romanova shares her own experiences with mental illness in this semiautobiographical debut. A young woman unexpectedly connects, via Tinder, with a famous television personality, an older man who says he wants to support her artwork as a patron. As their relationship becomes increasingly ambiguous, Moa's panic disorder takes a firmer grip on her daily life, leaving her isolated and detached. After a year of therapy for her terror-inducing panic attacks, a quiet moment of realization brings clarity and new resolve. Romanova's style is distinct, with distorted cartoony figures conveying both her sly humor and a palpable sense of unease. Panel sizes range from small to full page and are primarily black and white with a restrained use of color highlights. Several dreamlike sequences border on surreal, amplifying Moa's unsettled mental state, but these are balanced out with more lucid conversations and actions. Translated from the original Swedish, the dialogue can feel abrupt at times, but readers will be left with a clear image of what it means to live with mental illness.
![Cover image for Goblin girl [graphic novel] / Moa Romanova ; translated from Swedish by Melissa Bowers.](/client/assets/5.725/ctx//client/images/no_image.png "Cover image for Goblin girl [graphic novel] / Moa Romanova ; translated from Swedish by Melissa Bowers.")
