
"The magpies appear in the first scene of "Cannon," in a darkened restaurant littered with broken furniture and plates. I count twenty-one birds, perched and staring. Two figures, the titular Cannon and her best friend, Trish, also look around. They're rendered in a clean, strong outline against a watercolor background. Only the magpies know who caused this mess. In East Asia, magpies—crow-shaped, in the same Corvidae family, but tailed with brilliant streaks of sapphire and white—are signs of good luck."
"From there, the graphic novel zooms out and back in time. It's structured cinematically, with voice-over, pans, and quick cuts. Each page is gridded into four rectangles, like the frames of a film. Cannon's given name is Lucy—as in "loose cannon." Trish coined the nickname, which is funny because Cannon never spouts off. She absorbs; she contains. (The nickname, with its masculine overtone, also fits her gender nonconformity.) Cannon is a twentysomething Chinese Canadian in Montreal, decidedly not of that city's white Francophone class."
"Outside the kitchen, Cannon is going through a lot. Her once fearsome Cantonese-speaking maternal grandfather is shrivelled and ailing. Her mom is in denial and won't return her calls. Her long friendship with Trish, who's also Asian Canadian, is skidding toward indifference. And she can't tell if the girl she likes, a new worker in the front of the house, genuinely likes her"
Magpies open the narrative in a dark, wrecked restaurant where Cannon and Trish stand amid broken plates and furniture. The visual style uses clean outlines, watercolor backgrounds, and cinematic framing, with each page divided into four rectangles. Cannon, nicknamed Lucy and known as Cannon by Trish, is a reserved, gender-nonconforming Chinese Canadian cook in Montreal, navigating an indifferent workplace and an entitled boss. Family strain unfolds through an ailing Cantonese-speaking maternal grandfather and a mother in denial. Friendships fray as Cannon's relationship with Trish cools and romantic uncertainty grows with a new coworker.
Read at The New Yorker
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