This graphic novel is BEAUTIFUL - genuinely a new favourite. I’ve been meaning to read Stone Fruit for years and will now be going out and getting it immediately.

A beautiful story, even more beautiful illustrations. Everything you could possibly want from a graphic novel. I will definitely be buying on its release to add to the collection.

Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for sending the e-ARC. I’ll be recommending to anyone who will listen.

Lee Lai has managed to combine so many aspects of friendship and family in a way that is in parts painfully true, all the while with a dose of magic realism. If great writing is hiding your plot points deftly amongst characters who live and breathe so clearly on the page, then Lai is a master. Also manages to nail the heady mix of cultures in a place like Montreal, for better and worse (I’m a mixed race Brit who has worked in similar kitchens in similar cities). Stunning. Can’t wait to not only buy a physical copy for myself, but to get it into the hands of customers.

Another gorgeous graphic novel from Lee Lai, I still think about Stone Fruit and I think Cannon will stay with me for a long time. I read this in one sitting and found myself crying at the end. I love the way Lai writes complicated characters whose relationships aren't straightforward or simple. I really enjoyed the dynamic between Cannon and Trish - it is hard to maintain a long term friendship with someone as you grow and change, especially if you aren't able to have honest conversations about it. I resonated with Cannon's character and it was really cool to see them finally able to speak up. I particularly loved the use of the magpies during moments of intense emotions.

The relationships between Cannon, her mother and her Gung Gung were particularly powerful to me, I appreciated that it wasn't a neat conclusion but it left space for things to move forward. I appreciate all these characters (especially Benji and Kam) for demonstrating ways we can begin to show up for one another and accept help where it is offered.

A beautiful book, thank you Lee Lai for writing about butches with softness and compassion.

4.5*

'Cannon' by Lee Lai is a beautiful graphic novel. The illustrations are gorgeous and the storyline had me hooked, I read it in one sitting! I enjoyed how the author touched on the topics of friendships, relationships and family and the way it was written created a connection to the main character. I thoroughly enjoyed it and will definitely read more of Lee Lai's work in the future. I cannot wait for it to be released so I can add it to my shelves!

This was my first graphic novel. It took me a little while to settle into the writing and illustrations, and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. The author skilfully creates compelling, powerful characters in a story full of compassion and empathy, while exploring the intricate and complex nature of friendship, family and duty. The illustrations were excellent and complemented the fast-paced storyline beautifully. It may be my first, but it will not be my last graphic novel

Thank you to the publisher, author and NetGalley, for the opportunity to read this eARC in exchange for an honest review.

Absolutely incredible graphic novel that deals with complex dynamics in friendships with skill. Lovely art, great tension building, I was gripped and would definitely buy the physical copy of this when it comes out to read and enjoy multiple times. Great characters, and different threads of the plot. This is the exact kind of graphic novel I love to see in the world and I will be checking out this authors other books right away. Review will be published on my youtube channel https://www.youtube.com/@ingridboring

I haven’t read many graphic novels, but Cannon is a brilliant introduction to the genre. It’s a poignant, layered story which explores themes of friendship, family and generational trauma, mental health, and loneliness, while also highlighting the importance of connection and communication in a thoughtful way.

The story opens with Cannon destroying a restaurant, then rewinds to show how she reached that point. Through beautifully drawn characterisation, Lai explores her relationships with her best friend Trish, her colleagues, her mother, and her role as caregiver to her grandfather, which are all developed with nuance and emotional depth.

The artwork is understated yet powerful. Lai does a great job of capturing movement and chaos (like the intensity of a restaurant kitchen) and the shifting moods and building pressure of Cannon’s world.

I’d recommend this to anyone, even if, like me, you’re new to graphic novels. It’s an affecting and immersive story that touches on so many relatable themes.

Cannon and Trish have been friends for years, but they are growing apart. Cannon has a high pressure job in the kitchen of a fancy resturant and has to care for her ailing grandfather. Trish is a writer looking for success with no other responsibilities. Both women are Chinese and queer, and these identities have had them stuck together and supporting each other since they were teenagers. But Cannon is getting close to her breaking point - her mother won't respond to her pleas for help with her father, and entanglements at the resturant are coming to a head. Things are about to blow.
This is a story of friendship and family, and who will be there when it counts.

Cannon, who tends to bottle everything up, finds herself spiraling as her job, friendship, and juggling of family relationships close in on her. I love that this book features two queer asian women who are just trying to get through life. It’s messy, raw, there’s generational trauma that Cannon navigates through, and a lot of messiness all around. The climax of the book felt cathartic and much needed with a surrealist twist.

Cannon is barely keeping her head above water, juggling the demands of a relentless job, the slow unraveling of her friendship with Trish, and the weight of caring for her abusive, declining grandfather. Magpies stalk her in moments of acute stress, eerie manifestations of everything she can’t say.

This is a story about how easily we take people for granted, how difficult it is to form new connections, and how vital long-standing relationships are, especially the ones that fray slowly and quietly. Lai deftly examines the ways we use one another through a cascading chain of exploitation: Trish mining Cannon’s life for her art, her mentor hoping to piggyback on her ambition and success, the institutional pressures to conform to simplified, stereotypical narratives, Guy's harassment and abuse of his employees.

The novel carries a heavy message, and just as Trish’s mentor warns her against telling Cannon’s story in a way that feels sentimental or clichéd, Lai avoids those traps, framing the narrative with a hypnotic guided meditation that lets both Cannon and the story breathe while lacing the dialogue with Trish’s biting sarcasm and Cannon’s more reserved but bone-dry wit.

And in the tentative gestures between characters like Kam’s fish tacos and Benji’s awkwardly offered advice, the story offers the quiet hope that people may be capable of more than we think.

Thanks to Drawn & Quarterly and NetGalley for the advance reading copy.

Great story about friendship, family, and trauma. I see a lot of myself in the main character. Good artwork, I was able to differentiate between the characters faces easily.

Cannon, as in ‘loose as a cannon ball,’ is Lucy’s nickname. It’s also the exact opposite of who she is as a person. She represses her anger so much, in fact, that she begins to hallucinate birds when she’s deeply stressed. She puts up with so much shit, including being chronically spoken over, that the reader also experiences the catharsis once it comes. Interesting and worthwhile slice of life comic.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing an ARC. This review contains my honest, unbiased opinion.

It's hard for me to find words for this story because I'm sat here crying and I feel 10x lighter.
This story touched my soul in beautiful ways and I can't wait to see more work from Lee Lai, especially when reading feels like healing.
The self help tapes that Cannon was lkistening to may have come across as cringe but honestly, anyone who feels like the world is a bit too much and too hard on them will need to hear the content.
Bravo, really, 10000 stars if I could.

Lee Lai’s masterful follow up to 2021’s acclaimed Stone Fruit begins with an explosive scene, akin to the result of a loose cannon. The frenetic destruction presented in Cannon’s opening pages immediately invites assumptions about the kind of person who caused it.

But when introduced to the eponymous Cannon, it’s obvious that her nickname is ironic; her ability to keep a cool head and compassionate demeanour in stressful situations are her defining characteristics.

Nevertheless, even the most unflappable person may still hold long-simmering tensions underneath their calm exterior, the repercussions of which make up the brunt of this deftly layered slice-of-life graphic novel.

Cannon’s story is presented primarily in a sparse black-and-white palette, with four panels per page crafting a literal window into both her outer life and the way she compartmentalizes her feelings. Brief moments of solitude are dissociative; she listens to meditation podcasts while hustling to or from work, and imagines a flock of black birds taking over the room during extreme overwhelm.

Even so, Cannon stays dependable and willing to put others’ needs ahead of her own. She is an outstanding employee to a questionable restaurateur, a dutiful daughter and granddaughter who provides care to her difficult, aging Gung Gung, and the long-suffering best friend to novelist Trish, whose own professional stresses cause a rift in their friendship.

The inevitable fracturing of Cannon and Trish’s longstanding friendship is significant, especially given its origin of shared experience as the only queer first-generation Chinese kids in their small town. Now in their late 20s and living in Montreal, the pair’s complicated kinship largely reflects their differences instead of the sameness that initially brought them together; though they are both queer, they are varied in their sexualities (remaining platonic friends for the duration of the book), and navigate romantic relationships differently.

Scenes between the two find Lai keenly attuned to body diversity and facial expressions, while portraying Trish and Cannon’s different communication styles through missed calls, unanswered texts and ingenious, overlapping speech bubbles. When Cannon speaks, Trish tends to talk over her, often frustrated with her friend’s all-consuming familial loyalty (which she also takes insidious advantage of.)

Lai’s interplay between language and selfhood is also stunning, shown through pointed dialogue and its visual portrayal on the page. Trish’s vocation as a writer affords the story a metafictive layer of introspection — for example, when a mentor describes her identity as an in-demand “piece of a cultural niche,” Lai is likely mindful of how her own writing could be similarly labelled. Trish, however, scorns the unspoken expectations for LGBTTQ+ and BIPOC (Black, Indigenous and people of colour) stories while still mining her friend’s life for details, creating a jarring wall of Post-It notes that turn Cannon’s complex family dynamics into deconstructed character traits and plot points.

Cannon’s daily life also involves multiple spoken languages, highlighted with word balloons in both Cantonese and English (at Gung Gung’s), or English and French (at the restaurant, only enhancing the pressure-cooker atmosphere and tense dynamics of overworked kitchen staff). The dual-language contrast within the same panel is also a visually striking mirror into Cannon’s quick adaptability, and the resulting mental toll.

Lai also includes food as a secondary, illustrated language, as beautifully rendered panels hone in on Cannon’s cooking in her professional and personal life. That Cannon’s efforts often go unappreciated, especially by those close to her, further devalues her self-perceived worth as being rooted in service, or food-as-care.

Although Cannon might be cared about, she is rarely cared for. But as evidenced by her family history, her self-abandonment can’t simply be cured by cutting ties to people without processing her feelings. Lai’s opening pages, and Trish’s presence in them, only gain emotional heft as Cannon retroactively struggles to maintain relationships while running on fumes and self-neglect. There is no solace to be found in isolation, but genuine reciprocity and open communication remain a hopeful path to Cannon’s emotional sustenance.

Thank you to both NetGalley and the Publisher, Drawn & Quarterly for the opportunity to read and review Cannon by Lee Lai.

Cannon is a queer literary graphic novel exploring the relationships between Cannon, a queer Chinese Canadian woman, and the people in her life such as her best friend Trish, a fellow queer Chinese Canadian woman, her co-workers and awful boss, and her distant mother and ailing grandfather - all while she's trying to hold herself together while magpies appear before her as manifestations of her frustrations.

Cannon is a journey documenting the journey towards a breakdown and showcases how no matter how hard we try to keep ourselves grounded eventually the pot will boil over and even those who seem "chill" and "quiet" can still reach a breaking point with all the feelings they keep trapped inside. I found myself relating a lot to Cannon's emotional journey throughout this graphic novel. while her life experience is a very specific one her struggle handling her emotions is a very relatable one.

Cannon is a graphic novel I would highly recommend especially for those looking for diverse and queer stories surrounding mental health.