I learned early on in my journey of reading Harry Bliss that there are two styles when it comes to his artwork. One is kid friendly and the other adult friendly. However, via an online reader copy of You Can Never Die: A Graphic Memoir, I learned there is a third type to Bliss: the really adult Bliss.
This memoir takes slices of life and puts them on the page of a journal. These journal entries, illustrations and more come out in the book. He covers everything from his ageing dog to his parents’ abuse and arguments with each other, to his father’s death and the parental landmine that caused between him and his mother. We read about spanking the kids, the three to four siblings arguing and depending on how old he was, Harry was usually innocent (I must admit there are some very colorful insults they came up with) and even their father leaving the oldest three siblings on the side of the road. And that is in the first 14% of the book. 
Okay, while there is all of that, we have a few laughs and some tender moments (Bliss coming home baked and falling asleep to his father painting while they listened to Sinatra), too. We have the sketches from Bliss’s journal and text telling the stories. Spoiler: the dog does pass, but there is a lovely story about being able to grieve (and then a few others later on). And as we get further along, there are more tender stories of how Harry was the bully, how he was bullied and tennis (this is before we even get 30% into things). There is language (it is for adults so a few F-bombs and ass are not unheard of) and a 1970s parenting style (to start with the potential trigger issues), so it is not for everyone. Then of course, we get into his drug use. Bliss loved his drugs (cocaine was a trip he particularly enjoyed). This might turn some people off. I now am not sure how much I am a fan knowing that (gasp!) He had an adult life before becoming a children’s illustrator. 
This is not a book you probably should read in one sitting, but you could. It is a simple read, nothing is surprising, or at least in the first 30% when I decided to write this review. I then rewrote the review about three times before I thought I was done. Then I read more, and realized I hadn’t even touched the surface of what was happening. Hence, back to the review and saying the next almost 60% was really a trip. Who needs drugs when you get to see photographs of Andrew Wyeth pretending to be unalived by his (smiling) wife?
The illustrations are of course, in Bliss’s signature style, but he is an artist and can (and does) use other styles to get the messages across. It is organized chaos which just might be the real Harry Bliss. But then again, the man seems to have a sense of humor that leads me to wonder how much of a reliable narrator he is? As well as, is he also too good of a narrator? So, I will be able to get the answer to these questions (and any others that pop up by the time I officially finish the book, which is due late April 2025 and I read via an online reader copy) in May 2025 when Bliss and several other authors come for an event at a local store. Tickets are limited and going fast, so here’s a link for it.
