Chris Lehmann
… one of the many achievements of Epileptic -- the energetic, melancholy and candid graphic novel from the French godfather of the genre, David B. -- is the construction of a sort of upside-down comics narrative: It draws its momentum from the loss of strength and mental clarity and, most of all, the failure of would-be magical powers to remedy a horrible, incurable psychic and physical affliction.
— The Washington Post
Rick Moody
Because it is unafraid to dwell in detail on cultural and intellectual lineage, Epileptic seems to be influenced as much by Gide, Foucault, Malraux and Barthes as by Spiegelman. It is less a graphic novel, that is, than a bildungsroman about the artist as reader of continental philosophy, wherein Jean-Christophe's epilepsy, and its attendant familial disorder, are the fulcrum that forces Pierre-Francois to become the author David B., spawning his magnificent pictures, drawings full of the iconographies of both atavism and surrealism.
— The New York Times
The New Yorker
The French cartoonist Pierre-François Beauchard (he changed his name to David B. as a teen-ager) had an unremarkable childhood in nineteen-sixties France, until his older brother, Jean-Christophe, began to have epileptic seizures. This graphic memoir depicts, with an admirable lack of sentimentality, how dealing with illness can become a power struggle as desperate and corrupting as that of war. The family’s youngest child, Florence, attempts suicide; Pierre-François fantasizes about killing his brother; and Jean-Christophe’s rages become increasingly unmanageable and violent. The Beauchards’ futile quest for a cure takes them from surgeons to macrobiotic diets to spiritual mediums. David B. draws these potential solutions as totemic symbols, and, in one haunting panel, his mother is surrounded by their jeering, insistent forms. “So long as my mother hasn’t tried every single one she’ll be tormented by guilt,” he writes.
Publishers Weekly
The first half of French cartoonist David B.'s astonishing L'Ascension du Haut Mal appeared in English a few years ago, but this is the first time the whole book has been translated, and it's one of the greatest graphic novels ever published. Epileptic is a memoir of B.'s evolution into an artist, how learning to re-envision and recreate the world with his eyes and hands became his escape route from the madness and disease that might have destroyed him. B.'s family becomes involved with the shady alternative medicine world in France circa 1970 in an attempt to help his epileptic, unstable older brother. What B. picks up from that culture, from the military history he obsesses over and from his brother's cruel delusions is the raw material of his art: his stylized bodies and objects, which look like woodcuts and urn drawings, and especially his constant conflation of physical reality and symbolic value. With B.'s parents consumed with finding a cure, and his brother's quality of life deteriorating, B.'s dreams of a normal childhood are constantly undermined by his brother's illness, to be replaced by a waking and dreaming life filled with demons.This struggle becomes Epileptic's narrative core. B.'s artwork is magnificent-gorgeously bold, impressionistic representations of the world not as it is but as he's taught himself to perceive it-especially in the heartbreaking dream sequences near the end of the book. B.'s illustrations constantly underscore his writing's wrenching psychological depth; readers can literally see how the chaos of his childhood shaped his vision and mind. (Jan. 4) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
The latest entry in the graphic novel sweepstakes, from the publisher who brought us Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis. Here, Frenchman David B., a founding member of the cutting-edge cartooning group L'Association, chronicles his brother's epilepsy. Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Fantastical, gloriously illustrated graphic memoir of the French cartoonist's life, overshadowed by an epileptic brother. Born Pierre-Francois Beauchard, David B., a founding member of the avant-garde cartoonist group L'Association, grew up in a small town near Orleans during the 1960s, the son of two open-minded educators. His older brother, Jean-Christophe, began having severe seizures at an early age, and the disease gradually consumed the family. B.'s parents eventually lost faith in traditional doctors, who treated their ailing son more like a test case than a human being, and moved on to alternative cures. Many of them worked at first but became progressively less effective; treatment for Jean-Christophe turned into a revolving door of one guru after another. The family shuttled up to Paris to see acupuncturists and spent time in a macrobiotic commune that quickly became ugly and fascistic. Meanwhile, David increasingly retreated into a rich interior private universe to escape the reality an incurable sickness. He spun his intricate fantasies of war, monsters and shadowy conspiracies into elaborate drawings, which flow through the pages of this magnificent volume. Fantastic beasts and dark winds lurk around the peripheries of the real events being depicted and often come leaping right through them. Lost in his tales of golems, birdmen and dancing skeletons, David shielded himself from his brother's desperate condition: "My armor is the night." This masterful work of graphic art also succeeds as a tender yet unabashedly realistic view of the disease that eventually claimed Jean-Christophe. The boy was undoubtedly a victim, but he didn't do the little that he could to help himself andcouldn't help but drag the rest of the family down with him. This context makes the rage that David and the rest of the family felt toward Jean-Christophe entirely understandable, though no less disturbing. An unromantic, heartrending tale, wrapped in a cloak of nightmares.
