Polar Vortex

February 1, 2024
A debut graphic memoir about elder care in America by an expat coping with her mother's dementia. Dorrance's upbeat, airy linework packs an unsuspecting emotional wallop as she ruminates not only on her mother's demise, but on her own life, shaped in part by other rifts and losses. Over gossamer washes of watercolor, Dorrance often eschews the traditional frames of a comic strip to create a hazier story, adrift between real-life scenes and more fluid, sketchier memories. After learning that her mother was in the hospital, the author flew from England back to her childhood home to tend to her. But her proactive attempts were muddled by "the tug of [her] past," as well as by sibling tension, insurance claims, and care logistics, all of which left little room for her to properly process her impending loss. Dorrance let humor guide her through these difficult days, and the narrative often pushes away the dreadful reality of her mother's dementia with a high dose of levity. At times, this counterpoint between humor and grief is revelatory. In one scene, Dorrance stubbornly bickers with Death itself, a predictably costumed specter with a black hood and scythe. Moments later, any cartoonish cheekiness is obliterated by Dorrance's rendering of her mother, wide-eyed but staring emptily, muttering about her missing purse. Other visual gags are more quirky than powerful. In a tired recurring bit, Dorrance draws herself in a crown and mantle every time someone mentions her British accent. In another scene, she imagines a psychoanalysis session with the ghost of Dr. Ruth. Elsewhere, she pretends she's a contestant on Let's Make a Deal as she makes decisions about her mother's care. These tonal diversions always snap back to reality with a devastating whiplash, which can feel detrimental to the pacing and emotional intensity. A delicately drawn, unconventional chronicle of loss.

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Starred review from February 9, 2024

Her middle-aged life exported largely to England, Dorrance maintains a warm if increasingly tiresome phone relationship with her 91-year-old widowed mother in Cedar Rapids, IA. Then she's contacted by a local aging support service: her mom's in the hospital after a fall and shows signs of dementia. Dorrance must fly back to sort it out. She finds herself traveling this well-worn path during an icy Midwest winter, with Death for company. Appearing as the classic scythe-toting specter, that timeless worthy adversary offers insights, bromides, and grim humor while Dorrance contemplates her past relationship with her mom, complicated by quarrels with her California-based sister. Although resisting her new role at first, she finally takes charge. This is a pitch-perfect piece of work--frank and self-critical narration, incorporating photos and postcards, dread-drenched pacing, and beautifully limpid blue-gray/russet art. Engaging sequences include an imaginary Dr. Ruth providing advice and outlining her mom's options envisioned as a Let's Make a Deal game show. VERDICT Dorrance's (It's All About Mimi) gorgeous, plaintive story speaks to those caring for aging parents and realizing they must eventually prepare for their own exits. A lyrical read-alike for Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant? by Roz Chast.--Martha Cornog

Copyright 2024 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

March 4, 2024
Dorrance (Mimi at Home) takes her quirky approach to semi-autobiographical comics to the next level with her vulnerable latest. A Londoner originally from the American Midwest, Dorrance relates the story of her abrupt return to her hometown of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, following her 91-year-old mother’s injury due to a fall and subsequent dementia diagnosis. Landlocked in a place she thought she had left behind, Dorrance struggles to navigate the logistics of her mother’s recovery as a historic winter storm—a “polar vortex”—looms on the horizon. Wrestling with the implications of her mother’s confusion, helplessness, and impending mortality, Dorrance is also forced to reckon with the depth of her own emotional estrangements from her family, the rural community in which she grew up, and the person she used to be before she left it all behind to pursue a creative career. Her loose-lined, gestural art style is punctuated by abstract flourishes that fill simple panels with raw emotion and occasional bursts of absurdist humor (a conversation with her mother about recovery options transforms the hospital bed onto a game show stage: “Let’s Make a Deal!”). The gentle lines, soft color palette, and quippy narration bring a sense of comfort and familiarity to the bittersweet story of family, memory, and the inevitability of loss. Dorrance demystifies the challenges of elder care with this sensitive snapshot of the many ways in which memory shapes family history.