Review by Frank Plowright
ME contracts the term myalgic encephalomyelitis, and is also known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. It’s an extremely debilitating condition leaving sufferers so tired and aching that they’re unable to cope with normal life, yet it’s not recognised by some doctors, and often misdiagnosed by others. Tessa Brunton is a sufferer, and Notes From a Sickbed consists of comics created after the onset of symptoms and the six years before diagnosis.
Brunton’s introduction details her condition and its limitations, but the initial content is comics produced for shows where she lets her imagination fly and constructs fantasies around her bedridden existence. These range from complex revenge scenarios about noisy neighbours to inventive methods of bettering her life, such as with various forms of bedmobile. There’s no formula beyond what Brunton’s thinking at any particular time, so a story about a friend’s miserable experience at a gaming event is turned on its head by Brunton’s desire just to have been well enough to accompany him and share the misery.
Scenes are illustrated in exceptional detail, every piece of the environment imagined in bed fleshed out on the page. One pair of spreads supply a fully realised cutaway view of a tower as if modelled in the form of an ant farm, but for small animals instead. It’s a beguiling mixture of nature and Heath Robinson style technology, and will delay continued reading for a good ten minutes.
It’s a third of the way into Notes From a Sickbed before Brunton starts to address her condition directly, noting how it’s cyclical and related to feeling well. It’s some time before she makes the connection that feeling well is illusionary, and activity while in this phase is physically harmful if mentally liberating. If doctors don’t understand ME, public understanding is even more minimal, yet Brunton lays out what life is like for sufferers with astonishingly little self-pity. A very effective scene has her attending a party and listening to the grumbles about an everyday life she can no longer participate in.
While a grim condition Brunton would surely not wish on anyone, the benefit in terms of comics is how imagination becomes a powerful friend and supplies an unrivalled attention to detail. It’s present in every aspect of these comics, with novel ways of expression throughout, from lists to sketches, yet for all that this is a surprisingly uplifting memoir. It’s of definite value to anyone who’s ever wondered about ME or who’s known anyone who suffers with it, yet even those who’ve experienced the illness themselves will surely move beyond recognition to immersion. It’s a real gem.
