My Dear Pierrot

My Dear Pierrot

by Jim Bishop

2024

As near as I can tell, Jim Bishop’s career as a comic artist is making dark variations on themes from Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. My Dear Pierrot is absolutely a more adult, more erotic, more sinister take on Howl’s Moving Castle, and the character of Pierrot is very recognizably a riff on the wizard Howl.

Clea is the daughter of a wealthy family. She loves to dance, but in her social class, that can only be a hobby, not a career, not something she can perform for others. She has an arranged engagement to Berthier, the son of the local baron. She’ll become his wife, and then a mother. The city follows the Church, artists and dancers are suspected of being pagans, and the nearby forest is off-limits and supposedly full of witches.

Clea meets Pierrot, a magician who can do real magic, and flies away with him to his house inside a giant oak tree in the forest. Pierrot begins teaching Clea magic, and she quickly falls in love with him. Everything seems perfect and they sleep together ... and then he vanishes for three days.

When Pierrot gets back, the mood has changed somehow. Every time Clea tries to talk about her feelings, he scolds her for feeling them wrong. A lot of what he says is sound relationship advice, except that it’s self-serving coming from him, and in context, he’s only saying it to dismiss her valid complaints. He’s gaslighting her.

Clea continues learning magic and practicing dance and starts to get to know some of the other witches in the forest. She realizes Pierrot’s had a lot of girlfriends, and she might not even be his only one right now. One forgetful witch keeps calling her by someone else’s name, and there’s a mysterious ghost of a young woman haunting nearby the treehouse...

If any of this is starting to make you nervous, you have good instincts. Pierrot has a secret (very similar to Howl’s), and a plan for Clea that relies on her falling into suicidal despair. But despite Pierrot’s attempts to undermine her self-confidence, Clea has good instincts too, and while she’s nowhere near as strong a magician as Pierrot, she’s strong enough to get away.

While all this was happening, Berthier was humiliated that his fiancee left him for another man (a pagan, no less!) and went into the forest, ostensibly to rescue Clea, but mostly to restore his own honor. A witch plucks out one of Berthier’s eyes to punish him for not being able to understand his own motives, and he spends the rest of his time in the woods feeling sorry for himself, until he runs into her as she’s running away from Pierrot, and they get married after all.

Clea gives up magic and dance to become a wife and mother, and it seems her fire has gone out. In the end though, she rekindles it, and abandons her family to go live as a witch in the forest.

I like Bishop’s art. Pierrot is otherwordly and good-looking enough to make his role in the story believable. When we see magic, it really comes alive. It reminds me a bit of Ghibli, but it’s definitely his own style, not a pastiche. It’s very clear and colorful, and Bishop really has an eye for movement and composition. The layout of the panels matches the pacing of the scene. Characters sometimes extend beyond the boundaries of their panel when they’re being especially active or expressive. Important moments are drawn oversized and practically leap off the page.

I liked Pierrot more than Bishop’s Lost Letters, which I read over the summer. In general, I think this one is even darker, and both comics show a young woman’s life falling apart to the point she becomes suicidal. But Clea is at the center of My Dear Pierrot, and it’s clear Bishop knows that Pierrot is mistreating her. The fact of his intent, and not just the mistreatment itself, is central to the plot.

In Lost Letters, Iode completely wrecks Sista’s life, but he does it sort of by accident, and it’s actually not clear when reading if Bishop himself assigns cause and effect to that chain of events. That book is also fully Iode’s story; Sista’s problems are a side plot. Even her death is portrayed solely in terms of how it affects him. I’m willing to see men mistreat women in fiction, but I also want to see evidence that the author appreciates the significance of what they’re showing me.