Baby Blue: Bim Eriksson’s Dystopian Graphic Novel

A burgeoning alternative comics scene has been quietly flourishing in Sweden. Thanks to Fantagraphics Books and translator Melissa Bowers, English-speaking audiences have now been introduced to this vibrant world over the past seven years. Key entries include Erik Svetoft’s “Spa,” Moa Romanova’s “Goblin Girl,” and Liv Stromquist’s “Fruit of Knowledge” and “The Reddest Rose.”

A Bold New Entry

The latest addition to this Nordic chorus is Bim Eriksson’s “Baby Blue.” Originally published by Galagos in Sweden four years ago, it has since found its way into at least half a dozen other languages. Set in a dystopian near-future Sweden, the narrative strikes bold notes where sadness is literally against the law.

Eriksson reshapes the typical dystopian narrative through Betty Pott, a young woman doomed by societal standards. She witnesses a stranger’s tragic suicide and is left with a parting gift—a collection of emo songs. After publicly grieving, Betty finds herself on a path of prohibited emotions and poor choices. These missteps lead her to a governmental mental institution, where she narrowly escapes a chemical lobotomy. Luckily, she finds an unexpected ally in fellow emotional rebel Berina.

A Tale of Empowerment

Betty and Berina, with their contrasting personalities, create a dynamic push and pull. This relationship propels a story charged with themes of female empowerment. Eriksson expertly paces this narrative, depicting a future Sweden as a static, emotionless society. Against this backdrop, Betty’s emotions break through the monotony, highlighting her refusal to conform.

Eriksson’s artwork mirrors his narrative style. Drawing comparisons to fellow Swede Moa Romanova, Eriksson’s characters are anatomically exaggerated with minimal facial expressions. Instead, the artist conveys tension and emotion through subtle shifts in layout and dialogue, offering a unique aesthetic to the comics scene.

Revolution or Resolution?

“Baby Blue” masterfully builds a world teetering on emotional collapse. The reader is left to ponder whether Betty can disrupt this flatline society. Will she wield a metaphorical defibrillator, reigniting a sense of life in a dystopian world? The ending invites contemplation, breaking away from an inevitable future of bleak uniformity.

Eriksson’s narrative is as chilling as it is captivating, asking readers to engage with the story’s underlying beats. Much like the MP3 library Betty receives, it strikes chords that resonate deeply. Here’s to hoping the reverberations are felt far beyond the pages.