Longtime readers of my work here on Bi.org may remember I’ve not always warmed up to comic books. I’m cool with comic book films, for sure, but I still sometimes have to shake off old grudges about not feeling very welcomed into those spaces. But there are plenty of bi superheroes (and super villains) to be had in the pages of graphic novels and I don't want to exclude the entire genre from this column. And so I present the first graphic novel of this column: 2019’s Bury the Lede by Gaby Dunn.
Before I get too deep into this review, I should throw down a few disclaimers. First and foremost, I will be doling out a few SPOILERS for the plot in order to talk about some of the characters and deeper themes of the story. I should also note a few content warnings: depression and sexual assault.
Bury the Lede follows Madison Jackson, an intern at the fictional newspaper The Boston Lede who hopes to become a full-time reporter. While staffing the paper’s police scanner one night, she is first on the scene of a grisly murder within a high-end Boston family. She gets an in with the main murder suspect, Dahlia Kennedy — whose macabre information instead turns Madison into the source and not the reporter. Now Madison must rush to make sure she doesn’t become Dahlia’s pawn in breaking an even bigger story about institutionalized dismissal of sexual assault — and get a grip on breaking the narrative.
I love a good, hardboiled detective mystery with a mishmash of other genres, and Bury hits those marks with thriller-esque twists and a Michael Corleone-like fall from grace. This breakneck pace keeps the reader working at a delicious clip, and makes for an excellent entry for readers new to graphic novels such as myself.
On the queerness front as well, Dunn builds a world where anyone can end up being bi — and many of the characters are. This lack of heteronormative assumptions makes for a richer tapestry, not only of relationships, but character development as well. Characters that are normally barely developed, such as Dom the detective, get not only depth but a chance at a romantic arc. This extra attention also adds an element of mystery, since people I would normally assume would be the default lovers may not necessarily get together — or even be attracted to each other.
Dunn also pulls off a neat hat trick by taking the Basic Instinct trope — the sexy, bi murderer stereotype — and flips it by not making sexuality a factor in the murder. Dahlia may be manipulative and clever as an antagonist, but her being bi doesn’t figure into any actual deadliness on her part — just some other ethical choices. While many of the characters work and often enjoy operating in a morally gray area, it’s a sweet relief to see a twist on this tired cliché.
This may be a stretch as well, but Madison’s insistence about being thought of as a reporter — despite everyone calling her everything but — seems to play off of a real-life parallel for bi people’s experience coming out in the world. Over and over again, we have to insist who we are only to get dismissed, denied, or miscategorized — much like Madison has to insist with her colleagues and family that she is a reporter. And while Madison goes to sometimes ruthless lengths to prove who she is, her struggle for recognition is a valid one.
Bury harbors a diverse cast of characters without making it a focal point of either the narrative or the artwork. It’s casually matter-of-fact in this world that the majority of the characters — including the lead — hold a variety of marginalized identities beyond their sexualities — be it race, ethnic background, or disability. Considering that both newsrooms and Boston itself easily contain varied demographics, this level of representation adds an extra layer of verisimilitude to the story.
To that point, there were elements around the newsroom and particularly the bullpen sections of the story which displayed Dunn’s intimate knowledge of the profession in even the smallest of details. From the production design of what shows up on cubicle walls to the use of multiple languages reporters need to know in order to communicate with their sources, these nods add nuance and color to an arena that we think we’ve known as an audience since All the President’s Men — but proves that we have a lot to learn.
Unfortunately, while this Grisham-inspired framework often moves along at a swift pace, there is a lack of cohesion near the final act which makes it difficult to follow some of the plot. But then again, one of the OGs of the detective fiction genre, Raymond Chandler, was known for his byzantine plots, so I see this as a forgivable fault — especially for a debut effort.
Overall, Bury the Lede is an excellent read — and not just for its bi representation, though that is refreshing to see. Madison’s descent into a dangerous cat-and-mouse game with Dahlia, wove a gripping tale that kept me captive to the very last frame. I wish there had been more graphic novels around like this when I was a baby bi — but I’m sure glad they’re around for everyone these days. Hopefully it won’t get buried (sorry, couldn’t resist a little pun) in the back section of stores, and will get snatched up by queer audiences everywhere.
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