All the Living

In this soft-spoken fable from Ignatz-nominated cartoonist Muradov (Vanishing Act), the afterlife looks suspiciously everyday. An opening sequence set in a quasi-purgatory introduces the premise of a lottery (like bingo, but mandatory) for a return to life. The unnamed young woman who wins doesn’t actually want to go back, but the matter isn’t up for discussion. She’s returned to the lonely apartment, indifferent commuter crowds, and uninspiring job she’d left behind, with one added wrinkle: she now shares her apartment with her own ghost (“I guess I did die for a bit”). The pair settle into a cozy domestic routine—evening meals of soup, reading—and a fondness develops. Outside the apartment, the woman discovers ghosts everywhere, finding kinship in their shared isolation. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived a continuous past tense,” she confesses to one, who responds, “If I were you, I’d do a bit more living.” Muradov’s minimalist illustrations underpin the story’s minor-key modernism with diaphanous pencil strokes and muted tones, echoing the work of Øyvind Torseter and Ludwig Bemelmans. Gradually, the clever story of a woman haunted by herself gives way to a subtle meditation on inhabiting loneliness—and perhaps sharing it. Fans of the melancholic whimsy of Kore-eda, Ali Smith, and Tove Jansson will be pleased. (Feb.)