3 out of 5

This was one of the most uncomfortable books I’ve ever read. The queasiness of the imagery, and the progress of the lead’s mental state, combine for a constantly squeamish sensation; a fear of the next page. And while that’s definitely to the book’s credit, as it’s undeniably an intention – and is an effect I tend to love; I want art to destroy me – I kept wishing that I felt more impacted by the content as opposed to its depiction. This thought, combined with some questionable sequencing, and perhaps (completely subjective) limitation in the art style, prevented me from adding Beth Hetland’s Tender to that holy ground of higher rated comics, though it undoubtedly encourages me to see where the creator goes from here.

Tender approximately tracks the course of a relationship between Carolanne and Lee, told purposefully narrowly from Carolanne’s point of view. We bounce around to different points of this relationship, though, including the before and after of a difficult pregnancy, and more importantly: given full view to those moments you tend not to see in relationship dramas, or meet-cutes. Elements of those genres are represented, but they’re snapshots; instead the majority of our time with Carolanne is the private stuff we don’t want others to see – our little habits that maybe look a little off, or maybe even destructive. With Tender, a relationship doesn’t “fix” Carolanne’s loneliness; her pregnancy doesn’t fix her lifelong desire for a child; none of it fits the picture she’s had. And if even this sounds like a story you’ve heard before, Hetland keeps with the aforementioned destructive habits, and teeter-totters over a troubling line with Carolanne: one which is steadied by tics we’ll recognize from our own lives or thoughts, but then edging into more extreme territory. Giving the narrative a dreamlike flow which often segues into exactly that – dreams – Hetland is able to skirt around distressing us too much at once, and this is part of the why and how of the time skips as well: there’s some purposeful disorientation, even if we’re moving approximately forward in time, building back up to a rather haunting prologue.

From afar, all of this really works, and as mentioned, I was quite unnerved, page by page. But, well, I’ll put some of this out there: I’m not a woman, and I’ve never been pregnant. I’ve never had the desire for children. So that might be a huge chunk of why I wasn’t able to directly feel what Carolanne was feeling, even if I “understand” on a literary and logistical level. However, I also think the structure of the narrative affects that feeling as well, restructuring telltale signs of the path Carolanne would take into distractions; riffs that seem like comments on that specific scene instead of the larger one. With more room, and told in a straight line (excepting the prologue, which I appreciate as a hook), I feel like Beth’s character’s journey would’ve hit harder. This might’ve been an editorial suggestion, to get to a palatable page length in order to sell better as new writer; unfortunately, as a reader, it translates to a bit of whimsy that seems a little unneccessary.

As to the art, Beth’s flat, round style is a nice abstraction of reality for a tale as brutal as this, as the stuff we see absolutely still lands, whereas something more cartoonish wouldn’t have blended well, and less cartoonish would’ve either been too gross or trying too hard. The spot colors are also excellently applied for tone, and appreciably of a sort of duller palette – sticking with that middleground vibe of the art style. That said, there are some actions that are maybe too subtle to communicate with this approach, and some items, as depicted, I just couldn’t figure out what they were meant to be. Which is certainly on me, but context clues are nice in those situations, and perhaps that’s what was allowing for both of these criticisms.

Packed in a nice, slightly undersized hardcover by Fantagraphics, Tender is surely an important book, and a really bold starting point for Beth Hetland’s professional comics career. For various reasons, I didn’t fully connect with the material, but I sense that there will be those who very much do, and I hope to experience that with some of Beth’s future work.