Review by Frank Plowright

Raised by Ghosts is a melancholy and poignant memoir following the teenage Briana Lowinsohn, beginning with her middle school years from 1991. Largely wordless blocks of four illustrations are accompanied by single pages of confessional notes building a picture of a lonely and neglected child.

While what’s presented is incessantly mundane it’s invested with meaning for being someone attempting to piece life together and understand the world without adult guidance. Beginning in isolation, Briana gradually gravitates toward other loners figuring out life through observation before participation. Notes, both her own and those written to her by others, have importance, almost seen as adjuncts to the person someone is.

Neither of Briana’s parents are ever seen, but they’re minutely described, enabling readers to piece them together, with the disclosures about them drip-fed. She writes about spending time in her father’s home twice a week, the chaotic surroundings described in a very matter of fact way, but gradually and subtly indicating who he is via surprising small revelations. A list of places from which a bowl of matchbooks originate ends with Afghanistan, for instance, hinting at a traumatic military past. It’s a fair while before her mother is even mentioned, let alone presented, but her personality is eventually shaded in the same understated way.

The art has equal nuance, initially in showing Briana’s emotional distance from those around her, and later in revealing the conditions in which she lives. Filthy stairs lead to a spartanly furnished bedroom and a stained mattress with no covers. The illustrations, though, often seem secondary to the text, building on the notes, but only rarely is it the case that a drawn page carries a moment of significance, which is a considerable drawback no matter how attractive the art is. An exception is the unexpected emotional wellspring unleashed when Briana watches You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown.

That’s followed by an extended surreal turn. Is Briana tripping on her father’s drugs or is it just a dream? It’s unexplained and out of place, although the artistic freedom of breaking away from the strict four panel grid results in some impressive compositions.

A form of sad nostalgia is presented in an individual way prioritising the importance of written contact. However, it’s a drift without a destination and for some readers that won’t be enough.