01/23/2023
Korean American illustrator Lee chronicles their life growing up in a predominantly white New Jersey neighborhood in the early 2010s via this insightful debut graphic memoir. Jung-Jin, who goes by Deborah or Deb, immigrated to the U.S. with their family when they were three years old. Since then, they’ve dealt with microaggressions from teachers and classmates, intense educational pressure from their mother, and frequent feelings of isolation, which only increased upon entering high school. When their mother’s expectations turn Lee’s love of the violin, their only safe space, into another academic stressor, they quit. After surviving a suicide attempt, Lee starts attending therapy sessions to help manage their anxiety and depression, and begins weekly art classes in N.Y.C.; both changes provide necessary refuge from life’s mounting pressures. Nuanced, frequently wordless illustrations rendered in inky grayscale tones are jam-packed with background details that artfully convey the passage of time and Lee’s growing anxiety. The creator portrays their complex mother-child relationship through candid dialogue, using the pair’s language differences—they often communicate using a mix of Korean and English—to depict their varying interpersonal barriers. An emotionally tender, viscerally illustrated look at one teenager’s struggles with identity and mental health. Ages 14–up. (Mar.)
2022-12-24
Poignant images and text capture the emotional challenges faced by a Korean American teen in New Jersey.
Artist Lee looks back on fraught high school years of longing to fit in. But Lee was withdrawn and socially awkward and suffered frequent microaggressions. Orchestra, formerly a refuge, got more competitive; Lee gravitated toward drawing rather than practicing violin. Having immigrated at age 3, Lee felt neither Korean nor fully American. Anxiety led to intense clinginess, making friendships a struggle. Home was no safe haven—Dad was warmly sympathetic, but Mom is shown as demanding and prone to out-of-control rages. Lee’s fragile mental health plummeted, leading to a suicide attempt, but fortunately, therapy sessions allowed space to reflect on a difficult, lonely childhood, and weekly art classes in New York City offered hope and a place to feel seen and understood. Later, a trip to Korea helped Lee move toward acceptance and forgiveness. Confusion and pain are depicted through artful, largely digitally created grayscale images that evoke ink wash and pencil sketches and convey Lee’s growing hopelessness. The panels vary dramatically in shape, size, and perspective, bringing readers in for intense, intimate close-ups and pulling back to offer a broader overview of events. The mother-child relationship is especially well portrayed, nuanced, and resonant. Befitting a memoir that addresses transgenerational language barriers, some conversations include Korean phrases that are not translated into English.
A raw, relatable memoir exploring mental health and immigrant experiences. (author’s note) (Graphic memoir. 14-18)
Asian Pacific American Award for Literature Young Adult Honor Book
★ "[B]reathtakingly meticulous panels in grayish blues and white [elevate this] work to masterpiece status." —Booklist, starred review
★ "Readers seeking realistic depictions of lived teen mental health experiences will find this beautiful work rewarding." —School Library Journal, starred review
"A raw, relatable memoir exploring mental health and immigrant experiences." —Kirkus
"An emotionally tender, viscerally illustrated look at one teenager’s struggles with identity and mental health." —Publisher's Weekly
"Lee’s artistic skill is undeniable, and the subtle stylistic changes add depth to both visual and emotional impact of the narrative." —Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books
"Lee deftly chronicles their tumultuous high school years through elegant cartooning, presenting a difficult story with sincerity, compassion, and grace." —Hornbook
“In Limbo is a tour de force. Stunning from the first page to the last, and totally unforgettable. Upon getting to the end, I wanted to go right back to the beginning to read it again.” —Tillie Walden, creator of Are You Listening?
“Deborah Lee is a masterful storyteller who reminds us everyone we meet is an entire world while we are plunged into her own. I clutched my heart as hard as I clutched the pages of In Limbo.” —Sara Alfageeh, illustrator of Squire
“Deb Lee’s beautifully delicate gray landscapes are a fitting backdrop for this coming-of-age tale that encompasses so many of the liminal spaces of life: between cultures, past and future, childhood and independence.” —Harmony Becker, creator of Himawari House
“With breathtaking art and poignant storytelling, In Limbo is a masterpiece in expressing one’s truth as a queer Asian American.” —Laura Gao, creator of Messy Roots
“Deb JJ Lee’s In Limbo is a stunning study in mood and detail. Her poetic black-and-white illustrations bring you into her world as a lonely high school student, struggling to communicate with her parents and few friends about her frustrations with fitting in as a Korean-born immigrant.” —Malaka Gharib, creator of It Won’t Always Be Like This
“What a gorgeous meditation on adolescence. Reading this memoir reminded me of watching a molted dragonfly unfurling its delicate wings and triumphantly taking its first flight.” —Robin Ha, creator of Almost American Girl
“A gorgeous and vital coming-of-age story full of raw, diasporic feeling. Lee’s writing breaks your heart even while her stunning ink washes soothe your soul.” —Kiku Hughes, creator of Displacement
“While the challenges faced in her story are starkly serious, the virtuosity with which Lee shuffles together evocative images is unapologetically joyful.” —R. Kikuo Johnson, creator of No One Else
“Deb JJ Lee’s In Limbo is spectacular in its synthesis of visual storytelling and gripping tone; a coming-of-age story with truth and heart. It takes the reader to the places where breathing is hard; where I know my own breath was absolutely taken away by this incredible comic.” —Molly Mendoza, creator of Skip
“In Limbo lifts the comic memoir to new heights. At once heartrending and triumphant, with sumptuous artwork, this story will take your breath away.” —Rebecca Mock, illustrator of Salt Magic
“In Limbo disarms you with its lushness and draws you close with its empathy and honesty. Teenagers (and those of us who once were teenagers) are so lucky to have authors like Deb who reach back through the veil of time to offer understanding and compassion to our lowest lows, to the people who have hurt us and the people we've hurt in return.” —Rosemary Valero-O'Connell, illustrator of Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me
“It’s a beautiful excavation of the most difficult parts of growing up.” —Trung Le Capecchi-Nguyen, creator of The Magic Fish
“Deborah Lee’s memoir stuns with its inky dreamlike illustrations and gut punch of emotion. In Limbo is a masterpiece, a tale of the real highs and lows of growing up.” —Victoria Ying, creator of Hungry Ghost
“A stunningly rendered, emotionally raw memoir encompassing all the best and worst of one’s teen self. A must-read for high schoolers.” —Wendy Xu, author of Mooncakes
“An achingly beautiful and masterfully lyrical work of art by an illustrator at the top of both their creative and technical form. Deb Lee takes the illustrated memoir to intimately personal heights and complex, sublime depths. Lee’s visual language is breathtaking, unlike anything I’ve seen before. I feel changed by this deeply moving work.” —Jonny Sun, New York Times–bestselling author and illustrator of Goodbye, again and everyone’s a aliebn when ur a aliebn too
"In Limbo feels like it tells life as it is, cutting through the stillness and silence between people, without pulling any punches, without varnish, and yet all beautifully observant. It reminded me of many things from my own life, especially early artistic struggle and uncertainty, and issues of Asian displacement and self-image. I’m sure other readers will respond to this deeply; it may well even save a few lives (especially the ones you never hear about) seeing their own feelings so well illuminated." —Shaun Tan, creator of The Arrival
A Junior Library Guild selection
A School Library Journal Best Book of the Year
A NYPL 2023 Best Book for Young Adult - Top Ten Book
A 2024 Texas Library Association TAYSHAS Reading List Pick
Chicago Public Library Best of the Best Book of 2023
2024 Bank Street Best Book of the Year
★ 03/03/2023
Gr 8 Up—Lee's powerful memoir explores coming of age as a Korean American teen in New Jersey. Deborah (Jung-Jin) was always a good student and first chair violin in her middle school orchestra. It's shocking to her family when Deb barely passes her freshman courses and drops her instrument in favor of art, and Deb's mom becomes increasingly verbally abusive as year one goes on. Deb perseveres, making it to sophomore year and her new elective art class, where she meets Quinn. Though they're inseparable at first, Quinn soon becomes distant, and that heart-sickening gap, paired with isolation from her few other friends and her mom's escalating verbal and physical abuse, contributes to Deb's worsening mental health. After surviving a suicide attempt, Deb begins to work through her trauma in sessions with a therapist, revealing more of her past. Readers see how fraught her relationship is not just to her mother, but to her entire Korean heritage, from which she distanced herself steadily until even her first language was foreign to her. The microaggressions and overt aggressions depicted are painful, which makes the resolution, Deb's return to South Korea and a tentative embrace of her culture, a cautious reconciliation. Filled primarily with digitally created grayscale artwork, Lee's style has the feel of memory, with some images hazy and others sharp, the suicidal moments and abusive treatment from Deb's mother fuzzing out and fading to black. Readers seeking realistic depictions of lived teen mental health experiences will find this beautiful work rewarding. VERDICT Recommended for graphic nonfiction collections.—Abby Bussen