Éloïse Marseille (Prune Paycha)

Coming of age as a young woman at any time is both harrowing and darkly funny. Éloïse Marseille has captured the highs and lows of this life stage for readers who grew up in the 2000s. A relatable, funny, and charming debut graphic memoir, Naked: The Confessions of a Normal Woman reads very much like a glorious hybrid of Not Your Mother’s Meatloaf: A Sex Education Comic Book and Walter Scott’s delightful Montreal party girl series, Wendy. It is a raucous romp through Marseille’s childhood and youth in Montreal that explores her own sexuality and formative years, and unpacks all the confusion and shame that comes with it. 

Marseille focuses on the messy parts of sex and sexuality, such as spontaneous nosebleeds and awkward fumblings, realities not presented to youth very often in media, or easily available online pornography. She addresses the very common experience of so many people who are pressured into sexual acts because they don’t feel comfortable saying no, and demonstrates how the absence of an enthusiastic yes means a person has not consented. This is a really accessible portrayal for those who are growing up in the Tinder-Grindr-etc. hookup era. 

Marseille chronicles how she questioned her sexuality, a process familiar to many queer women: her first kiss is with a girl, she notices her frequent attraction to women, and goes on dates with women, yet feels anxious about engaging in same-gender romantic or sexual relationships. Marseille writes, “Being straight is ‘normal.’ It’s just easy. So I’ve completely ignored that part of myself.” The memoir speaks directly to the impact that the broader culture’s heteronormative assumptions and pressures have on our relationships and identities. And though Marseille states that she tried to ignore that part of herself, the following page shows her blushing, with steam coming out of her ears, as she meets a friend’s cute roommate. 

Marseille unpacks the impact of easy access to online pornography at a time when accurate, comprehensive sex education is not available to all young people. She tackles some really big, but very commonplace subjects – body image, issues with pleasure, the fear of the bodies of partners of all genders, sexual identity, and the destigmatization of sexually transmitted infections – with grace. She relates how she had to learn about and deal with all these issues on her own, or through conversations with acquaintances and loved ones. 

Naked has a very accessible tone and the illustrations and panel design add great levity and visual impact. There are panels of The Shining-esque waves of blood when discussing her fears of not getting her period by age 16, and a panel of a fanged penis monster chasing Marseille. The illustrations emphasize the emotional highs and lows of the text, such as when Marseille visits her sister and they scream affirmations at each other that can’t be contained by the panel. Marseille’s style is charming, with delightful character design (fantastic noses) and a wonderful red and blue colour palette. 

The book begins and ends with Marseille addressing the reader in different ways, with a final call to radical acceptance of our past, present, and future selves. This is an excellent read for older teens or early twentysomethings trying to figure out how to navigate sex, love, and dating – and learn how to fully accept themselves as normal sexual beings.