Franchement navrée de devoir dire que c’était boff

Meh. Fast read on the treadmill, but just nothing of true substance here. Did the guy learn anything at the end? Did the lady? I wish he went into his past relationship more. Or how she became a klepto. I wouldn't call this hilarious or romantic. It was just meh.

Liked this a LOT. Perfect for a lunchtime read at work.

The tyranolibrarian in me is stomping about in fury right now with tinyshort flailing arms and rageful, gnashing teeth.
Don't steal books, people. Especially not because you're a book hoarder! I mean, if you're stealing them because you're poor and they're for the destitute children in your neighborhood who would otherwise never see a book, ever, then maybe I will not eat you after ripping you limb from limb. Maybe I will just take a big bite out of your leg and have done. But this chick? She's gonna get eaten. Messily. RAAAAAAR!

The formerly-single person in me is smirking over the whole dating thing. OMG, I hated dating and I dated several guys like this. Nice enough but so desperate, desperate enough to overlook and forgive stealing and not just stealing but book-stealing. And not just book stealing! Stealing HIS book (he's a comic artist...as evidenced by this book) from a bookstore, essentially robbing him of his living. (not really, but that's the argument against pirating movies and software so I assume it works the same when you steal a book from a bookstore) So much apologizing. So little direction. So much Jell-O spine. There's a place for Jell-O spine and it is not in your own life. Yoga. Yoga is a good place for Jell-O spine. Sometimes. Like during the part where you lie on the floor and breathe to relax. Anyway, all his forgiveness comes from a place of loneliness and desperation so isn't even forgiveness so much as holding out for a lifeline and using someone else's problem to save himself.

The over-40 in me is trying to remember if I was scared of 30, if I was ever so young. Was I? I must have been. I don't think I was, though. That's the power of losing memories - I can fill the gaps with whatever I want and I want to remember me being dauntless in the face of age and perceived need for accomplishment.

In this story, there are bookstores and cafes, forgiving and loving friends, angry people, Greg (people on devices, I mean. I call them all Greg, now), weather, coming to terms with life changes, babies, flowers, running (figuratively and literally), all sorts of everyday life things. It's a lovely, nicely-illustrated, relatable-ish vignette (except for the book-stealing. RAAAAR!) of a bumpy patch of life but, ultimately, not very memorable.

Très fan de l'univers! J'aime l'autodérision!

http://moncoinlecture.com/2017/05/collectionneuse-pascal-girard/

The main character was neither likable nor compelling. I can live without the former, not the latter.

Though Girard's work can sometimes be painfully self deprecating this book balances out his autobiographical accident prone, awkward character self with a desire to run, to get over a break up and to catch a book thief he is also romantically interested in. This book is unique ; there isn't anything like this story and it needed to be told. Focusing on a time in the artists life he was NOT doing art and was down on his luck, trying to focus on ANY good he can he becomes obsessed with bringing a book thief at a local bookshop to justice but ; he doesn't do it with any grace or tact and the results are hilarious. This should be adapted into a movie. The drawing is perfection ; the edges of dark shapes are hatched out at the bottom of frames, the images are full of life, crisp and exciting. I am a huge fan of his drawing, always, but in this case, also of the writing.

A sweet, simple and fun story about a comic artist who's going through a bad breakup and trying to figure out what to do with his life, when he discovers a woman stealing books from his local bookstore.

via NYPL - A solid little autobio comic. Nothing revolutionary, but enjoyable enough as the sort of too-common chronicle of a socially awkward cartoonist with questionable self-esteem comic goes.