Graphic novel recommendation: What Will Be, Will Be by Lê Phan

A recommendation by Quynh Than, Association of Asian Comics Critics Asia (ACCA)

Phan, Lê. What will be, will be. Ho Chi Minh City,  Vietnam: Du But Books, 2025.

Quynh Than is the co-founder and editor of Du But Books in Ho Chi Minh City and the publisher of this book.

 What will be, will be is a graphic memoir by Vietnamese comic artist Lê Phan. At 176 pages, divided into eight chapters, the book follows his journey from a child first discovering what it means to be an artist, to an adult navigating the uncertainties, disappointments, and hard-won lessons of a creative life. Each chapter is inspired by a well-known song and marks a different emotional stage in his path toward becoming a professional comic artist.

 For readers unfamiliar with Lê Phan, he is one of the most distinctive voices in contemporary Vietnamese comics. In a local comics scene often shaped by manga-influenced aesthetics, he has long pursued a different visual and narrative path. That difference may have placed him somewhat outside the mainstream at times, but it has also allowed him to build a loyal readership entirely on his own terms. What makes his body of work especially compelling is his refusal to stay still. From mystery and dystopian storytelling to travel writing, childhood memory, and comic strips about life, love, and the strange comedy of being human, each of his books feels like a reinvention. It is almost as if every new project tries to undo the image created by the previous one. In What will be, will be, that process leads him to his most personal form yet: a storyteller willing to turn fully toward himself.

 In terms of plot, What will be, will be does not rely on dramatic twists. Instead, it draws readers in through the truthful rhythm of a life shaped by art. The first half carries the lightness of childhood: mischief, wonder, and the first sparks of obsession with drawing. The second half moves into more difficult territory, as dreams collide with reality and artistic passion is tested by confusion, failure, loneliness, and emotional exhaustion. What emerges is not simply the story of one cartoonist’s career, but the story of someone learning, repeatedly, how to lose himself and find his way back.

What makes the book especially interesting is that it works on several levels at once. It is an autobiography, certainly, but also a meditation on what it means to choose a creative life when it is a choice that rarely stable or well understood. At the same time, it serves as an informal cultural record of a generation of Vietnamese artists who grew up with manga, copied comics by hand, made homemade books, and searched for creative communities through magazines, forums, and small circles of fellow enthusiasts. In that sense, the book is both deeply personal and historical.

 Another strength lies in the contrast between style and subject. Lê Phan uses a simple, light, sometimes almost childlike drawing style to tell a story filled with self-doubt, reflection, hurt, and healing. The effect is powerful. The softness of the artwork makes the emotional honesty of the book hit even harder, without ever becoming melodramatic. Comics here are not just a delivery system for memoir, but the most natural language for memory itself: elastic, playful, fragmented, and emotionally precise.

 This is a book that deserves to be read because it is sincere without asking for pity, and thoughtful without ever becoming heavy-handed. For readers interested in comics, it widens the horizon of what Vietnamese comics can hold. For artists and aspiring creators, it offers not instruction so much as companionship and reassurance that doubt, detours, and even brokenness can become part of one’s language. What will be, will be is a gentle reminder that becoming oneself is rarely a straight road. Sometimes we must lose our way before we can recognize the shape of our own heart. Sometimes we must - as Phan wrote in the book - "gather our scattered pieces, one by one, and trust that they still belong to us". Lê Phan tells that journey with tenderness, humility, and grace, and proves that even the most uncertain path can, in time, lead us back to who we are.

Images from the book can be seen in the review at https://vietcetera.com/vn/gui-nhung-trai-tim-can-dam-dang-theo-duoi-dam-me

Book Review: South East Asian Kommunity 2024

reviewed by  Duy Tano, of The Comics Cube commentary website and YouTube channel

South East Asian Kommunity 2024. Edited by CT Lim and Paolo Herras. Philippines : Komiket Inc., 2024. ISBN 978-621-8244-48-1. https://www.komiket.com/products/south-east-asian-kommunity-2024

South East Asian Kommunity 2024 is an anthology featuring creators from Vietnam, Myanmar, Thailand, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines, edited by CT Lim from Singapore and Paolo Herras of Komiket Philippines. Personally, I am a huge fan of short stories and anthologies. This particular collection, one of the backbones of the Philippine International Comics Festival 2024, offers something for everyone, but to me one of the recurring themes is of confinement and escape.

Ping Sanisan (Thailand) kicks off the book with "Before the Curtain Calls," a sublime meditation on what life is like in South East Asia, while drawing the reader in with the use of color. Sanisan explores a fundamental theme of being Southeast Asian -- the perpetuation of your role in your family and in society, simply because of the circumstances into which you are born. It revolves around a dream sequence and is rendered in striking colors, most notably red. Nicely in contrast is “The After” by Erica Eng (Malaysia),* a black-and-white sci-fi short story set in the future, depicting the mundanity of life for everyday people. Eng’s story showcases that even as societies evolve and progress, people are always looking for something else to do, and perhaps something more.

Societal expectations and circumstances can feel like a prison, and it comes as no surprise that in an anthology such as this, we see several stories about escaping. "Le Beauttom" by Juliette Yu-Ming Lizeray (Singapore), about two children who get a job in an underwear factory, is probably the funniest story in the book, and is created by someone originally from Malaysia who moved to the United States before settling in Singapore. "Son of Krypton" by Chappy Fadulon (Philippines) equates a standard “Filipino leaving the country to pursue better opportunities” story to the origin of Superman, a storytelling device that would always resonate with me. I think it also works more broadly, since Superman is often noted to be an immigrant, but immigrant stories in general do not equate back to Superman’s journey.

In keeping with the theme of escape, Yuri (Philippines) dedicates "Mawalang Galang" to all runaways, and is about the fragility of familial relationships in society, and how sometimes one has to break things in order to rebuild them. She also has the single most striking image in the entire book, a splash page that made me go "Wow." "Love, Remember" by June Dao (Vietnam) is a heartbreaking story about two siblings who are reunited ever so ephemerally and will resonate with anyone who has ever been away from their sibling for an extended period of time. "Metamorphosis" by Wooh Hmo (Myanmar) is equal parts Kafka's Metamorphosis and the legend of Icarus, with a grounding in reality and an art style that evokes the best horror comics. Literally about escape, it is another story by an artist living away from his home – Wooh Hmo is in exile in France.

Not all stories in the collection fit a theme of geographic and cultural confinement and escape, however. "Until When" by Tita Larasati (Indonesia) is a short graphic memoir about recovering from a stroke, which includes pages drawn during recovery. I really do believe that personal stories like this are uniquely suited to comics, in a way that they are not for other media. It is the only medium in which you can showcase someone learning to draw again by actually showing the drawings that they did in that time period.

Other stories may call to mind familiar genres to longtime readers of comics, or are a bit more abstract. Overall, this is a solid collection of stories from the region, showcasing a wide variety of talent and subject matter. And it shows that even one feels a desire to escape, there are, in similar current circumstances, cartoonists with an abundance of talent, creativity, and imagination. May all these creators find the audience they deserve.

*CORRECTION: The original post incorrectly stated that Erica Eng is in Singapore; she is actually in Malaysia.