Review: Angelica and the Bear Prince by Minh Lê
When I first spotted Angelica and the Bear Prince by Minh Lê, I was instantly drawn in by the whimsical cover and the intriguing premise of a retelling spun through the lens of a young girl grappling with burnout. With a refreshing take on today’s struggles, I was curious to see how a graphic novel could encapsulate such serious themes, and honestly, I was keen to dive into a world where fairy tales meet relatable teen anxieties. However, while I found glimmers of brilliance within the pages, the overall experience left me feeling a bit mixed.
At its core, the story follows Angelica, affectionately known as Jelly—a name that alone brought a smile to my face. Jelly’s journey to reclaim her passion after a year of burnout resonates deeply, especially in our fast-paced, productivity-driven society. Seeing Jelly as a realistic, flawed teen grappling with her self-imposed pressures was refreshing. I appreciated that her best friend Christine was portrayed as a supportive force, embodying open communication and understanding—all too rare in YA novels. And can I just rave about the inclusive representation? Christine’s character, a lovely plus-size young woman, was depicted without the narrow lens of societal judgments, which is a rare find!
The artwork in Angelica and the Bear Prince deserves a shout-out; its vibrant charm often softened the heavier themes threaded throughout the storyline. However, I found myself distracted by some inconsistent character designs—at times, Jelly’s emotional turmoil felt overshadowed by an overly cute aesthetic. And here lies my primary concern with the narrative: for a story so rich with potential, I felt there were missed opportunities to delve deeper, particularly with Per the Bear. While the bear mascot serves as a pivotal connection for Jelly, their character development seemed shallow, lacking the robust backstory that could have elevated their role.
Moreover, the narrative shifts between various perspectives added both depth and clutter, making the progression feel jumpy and at times unfocused. I admired the ambition to explore different characters’ grief, but it seemed to detract from Jelly’s own journey. The inclusion of her parents’ perspectives was a nice touch, giving a glimpse of the family dynamics but ultimately adding to the narrative’s complexity without fully exploring each character’s arc.
Now, onto a topic that made me raise my mom-warning flag: Jelly’s anonymous messaging to Per could have been handled with more caution. While their eventual positive interaction brings comfort to Jelly, it brushes over the potential dangers of sharing personal vulnerabilities with a stranger online. I couldn’t help but feel that this was a significant oversight that should have merited some acknowledgment, especially for a young audience.
While I admired the attempt to weave in a modern retelling of ‘East of the Sun, West of the Moon,’ it felt more like a missed opportunity. The tale within the tale didn’t quite gel with the main narrative, leaving a couple of key elements frustratingly unexplored.
In conclusion, while Angelica and the Bear Prince beautifully tackles themes of stress, grief, and the quest for self-acceptance, it falters in execution. It might still resonate with younger readers navigating similar challenges, but it does come with caveats that warrant discussion. I would recommend this graphic novel to those who appreciate the notion of heartfelt themes packed within an accessible format—just be prepared for an open dialogue about some of its more sensitive aspects.
And so, I find myself landed at 2.75 stars. It’s not a complete miss but a mixed bag that could provide some valuable insights with the right guidance. Happy reading!
Connect with me through:
My Blog || The StoryGraph || Instagram || Facebook
Discover more about Angelica and the Bear Prince on GoodReads >>