Finding Closure in the Unfathomable: A Review of 49 Days by Agnes Lee
There are some books that pull you in with their intriguing premises, and Agnes Lee’s 49 Days is certainly one of them. The moment I learned of its exploration into the afterlife through the lens of Buddhist philosophy, I felt an instant connection. Who wouldn’t want to dive into a narrative that blends themes of family, grief, and spiritual transition? Little did I know, I was about to embark on a visual and emotional journey unlike any other.
At its heart, 49 Days tells the story of Kit, a young woman navigating the ethereal realm of Bardo—a 49-day transitional period between death and rebirth. After a tragic bus accident, Kit finds herself in a surreal landscape where nothing is quite as it seems. The map in her possession changes whimsically, mirroring her emotional state and searching spirit. As Kit ventures through a desert and confronts a miniature giant tree, her journey unfolds within a dreamlike realm governed by different rules of physics. These moments resonated with me, capturing that feeling of disorientation we all experience during grief.
Lee’s graphic novel brilliantly intertwines three narrative strands, each crafted with a distinct perspective. The Bardo scenes, drawn in heavy strokes with minimal dialogue, evoke a sense of despair and isolation—colored in haunting blues that mirror Kit’s emotional state. In contrast, her recollections of family life are rich and vibrant, adorned with intricate details and filled with lively conversations in warm oranges and pinks. It’s this dichotomy that truly captivates; the stark differences between life and afterlife highlight the profound impact of Kit’s absence on her family.
One particularly touching scene features Kit’s humorous competition with her siblings to make the largest pork bossam that can still fit in their mouths. Such moments of warmth and nostalgia are peppered throughout the narrative, reminding us of the love that persists even amidst tragedy. This family dynamic, deeply rooted in their Korean American heritage, is rendered beautifully through Lee’s evocative artwork. The little things—like making kimchi or lighting incense—become poignant symbols of love, tethering Kit to her family even in death.
Lee’s unique narrative style, utilizing varying panel arrangements and hand-written dialogue, adds an intimate layer to the story. There were times when I felt the weight of grief so acutely that it gave me pause. Lee expertly demonstrates that family love is not just significant but transformative. She eloquently illustrates the idea that one life encompasses many lives—our identities are not solely ours but intertwined with those we love.
49 Days visualizes an afterlife steeped in Buddhist tradition, offering a refreshing and profound perspective compared to the typical Western interpretations. It serves as a cultural exploration that transcends the usual binary narratives we often encounter. This portrayal opened my eyes to different beliefs regarding life and death, allowing me to appreciate the richness of our diverse worldviews.
I would recommend 49 Days to anyone drawn to heartfelt graphic novels that explore complex themes of loss and love. Whether you are a fan of visual storytelling, interested in spiritual journeys, or simply someone who loves a well-crafted family story, this book has something meaningful to offer. For me, reading 49 Days was a deeply reflective experience that prompted me to think about what it truly means to be connected—even beyond the bounds of life itself.