The Mother: A Graphic Memoir by Rachel Deutsch
"I will be verbally recommending this book to random strangers."
Allow me to come out from under a rock and introduce myself: first time graphic book reader. I don’t count The Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers because those were around the house when I was a child, they grossed me out and terrified me, and might be the reason I have thus far stayed away from graphic books. I don’t really “do” memoir either*. (I know, I know.)
If you’re still reading this review (yay!) and now that I am out from under my rock on graphic and memoir… allow me to begin with, I flat out loved The Mother.
I loved it.
I was laughing out loud by a couple of pages in. Rachel Deutsch’s utterly relatable confessions about dating, and her secret self-spoke directly to the ugly, little, paranoid, unloved, lonely messed up person I thought myself to be for so many years when longing for a partner, a relationship and yes, clandestinely, as though it were a crime - a child.
So many of us women have been led to believe that becoming a mother is some kind of criminal let down of our true feminist destiny to become astrophysicists and world leaders. And there was a heavy campaign, when I was in Grade 7 to assure us, as teens, that worse than drugs, worse than suicide, worse than joining gangs or going to jail was GETTING PREGNANT. STDs followed closely behind.
I spent formative years in Toronto, on Queen St, among black clad artists. No strings attached sex was de rigour. Boyfriend girlfriend relationships were lame. Wanting a career, or kids was idiotic. It could not be spoken of. It could not be brought up in relationships that could not be defined.
Turns out, there is an entire world of people quite happily pursuing art and relationships and family, and I just got stuck in some weird margins. Here I am, years later, out of order: married, divorced, child, separation, single motherhood, wonderful relationship.
We live in a world now though, where birth rates are declining, IVF is on the rise, fertility is on the wane, interest in coupling for the purposes of togetherness and/or kids is flagging. More educated women long for partners who make as much or more than them and who can balance an interest in equality with the amount of time spent on video games.
I spat out my coffee when I read Deutsch’s frame on “too many video games” under “CONS” when she describes Marc. I paused while reading and wondered “How does Marc feel about this?” And then proceed to have a panic attack on behalf of all memoirists wondering why anyone would directly write about anyone they know this way, fearing backlash or at least dislike*… and am reminded why I am far too much of a chicken to ever undertake memoir. Back with The Mother, I rededicate myself to the gorgeous calm, cool colour palette Duetsch has chosen, and her whimsical witticisms deployed with the marksmanship of a trained sniper.
For saying: “Saying things that really hurt seemed to be a theme of pregnancy. Or maybe just being a woman.” Deutsch has my fandom.
I found it so comforting to read this memoir that rolls out with a slightly distant voice, as though the writer is a bit of a scientist investigating this thing known as yearning for and entering motherhood. We all come to the state as naifs - adorably thinking “we totally got this” and rudely discover how hard, how visceral, how painful, how humbling, how harrowing motherhood can all be. So much of becoming a mother in our society is about being minimized. Shrunk down to patient size, ailments brushed aside, our names lost as nurses we have never met before bossily call us “mom”. (I’m not YOUR mom!!) (I wrote that last section before I even got to page 83. When Deutsch said she found it embarrassing for both people be called Mama, I felt she was my spirit animal. People talk to us in baby voices as though we are the baby, not having the baby. And yet we become the most gargantuan being to our child - their protector, their very creator. If anyone hoping to one day mother is reading this and freaking out… freaking out is pretty much the correct response.
Letting go of what becomes an identity “Will I ever have a child woman” when one has a child means one is left with being the person responsible. Every spit up, every head ache, every moment of lost sleep is something we brought upon ourselves. I’d never engaged with the idea of losing my identity as a person who longed for children until I read The Mother. I did, the day I became a mother, though, I realized that the person I was died in a way, never to live again in any form. And yes, as Duetsch points out, with that goes the possibility of being “super hot and slutty”. Ah, the sirens we once were….
Page after page, Deutsch is the friend I wish I had during my longing, my pregnancy, my motherhood. I feel so very much more ok with my life after having read this. It’s a book to treasure. To laugh over. Buy two copies, as the pages will get wet. Like Deutsch, almost as soon as I held my child, I pictured her as an old woman, who I saw on her deathbed (What the hell, collective subconscious, maybe chill out?) And then again, this is what connects us - our kids are time travelers who carry our genetic code into the future.
Anyone who has ever made a birth plan and then watched nurses dance with glee while it bursts into hot flame as all plans go SNAFU will especially enjoy the birth plan page.
I will be verbally recommending this book to random strangers. I predict a future full of t-shirts printed from frames in this book. And tote bags. Needed to carry all the baby things and one’s baggage as a Mother at any stage.
About the Author
Rachel Deutsch’s writing, cartoons and illustrations have appeared in publications including The New Yorker, PRISM, The Pinch, McSweeney’s, Mother Tongue, Mutha Magazine and in ParentData, the popular newsletter by Emily Oster, the author of Expecting Better. Deutsch is known for bringing honesty and humour to tough parenting moments. She lives in Montreal with her partner and two young kids, and posts regularly on Instagram as @weirdmomart.
About the Reviewer
Emily Weedon is a CSA award winning screenwriter and author of the dystopian debut Autokrator, with Cormorant Books. Her forthcoming novel Hemo Sapiens will be published in September 2025, with Dundurn Press. https://emilyweedon.com/
Book Details
Publisher : Douglas & McIntyre (March 25 2025)
Language : English
Paperback : 172 pages
ISBN-10 : 1771624329
ISBN-13 : 978-1771624329