I stumbled upon 'How Loathsome' years ago while digging through indie comics, and it left such a vivid impression. It's a surreal, gothic-tinged story set in San Francisco, following a trio of queer characters—Tristan, Catherine, and Edgar—who navigate love, identity, and existential dread. The art is dripping with moody, ink-heavy shadows, which perfectly matches the raw, poetic dialogue. Tristan, a trans man, grapples with dysphoria and desire, while Catherine, a dominatrix, exudes chaotic energy. Edgar, their mutual love interest, ties them together in this messy, beautiful tangle of relationships. The plot isn’t linear; it’s more like wandering through a dream where every page feels like
A Confession. Themes of alienation and self-destruction weave through, but there’s also dark humor—like when Catherine casually debates philosophy mid-scene. It’s not for everyone, but if you crave something unflinchingly honest and visually striking, it’s a gem.
What really stuck with me was how unapologetically messy the characters are. They don’t fit neat boxes, and the comic doesn’t try to sanitize their flaws. Tristan’s internal monologues hit hard, especially when he talks about his body feeling like a 'haunted house.' The ending doesn’t wrap up neatly, either—it’s more of a lingering question mark, which feels fitting. I’ve loaned my copy to friends just to see their reactions; some recoil at the intensity, others dog-ear pages to revisit later. It’s that kind of book—either a punch to the gut or a lifeline, depending on who you are.