I just nearly soilled myself reading Toronto illustrator Graham Roumieu’s Bigfoot: I Not Dead. Our friend Allie had his book prominently displayed in her home, and, at first, I pegged it for overly precious, indie “graphic novel” nonsense. I was so wrong.
It is basically short personal essays by Bigfoot about his life, and it’s hard to pick a favorite. Bigfoot is a beautiful, beguiling and terrifying creature; equal parts innocence, sweetness, stupidity and blind rage. And hunger. Bigfoot is very hungry. The illustrations are rough, beautiful messes, conveying the tender soul of Sasquatch writ in bloodstains and squiggles.
I don’t normally laugh at loud when I read things, no matter how funny. But I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe. Apparently I was “giggling,” which Steph has never heard me do.
I’ve just ordered all three of his books. Recommended for “mature” readers, who don’t mind the occasional F-bomb and beheaded bunny.
And good news! Bigfoot’s on Twitter.
Don’t remember swallow lawn flamingo but sure happy it out of system.