Jeff Lemire’s Minor Arcana #19 — The Quiet Aftermath of Tragedy

Jeff Lemire returns to the life of Budd St. Pierre in Minor Arcana #19, exploring the fragile momentum of healing and the ripples of our choices through family and time. A poignant look at carrying forward after inescapable loss.

There is a specific kind of quiet that settles in after the storm, and Jeff Lemire knows how to paint it. In Minor Arcana #19, he steps back into the boots of Budd St. Pierre, not to thrust him into new danger, but to let him sit with the aftermath. This isn’t a story about the explosion or the fight; it’s about the dust settling. Lemire’s work here feels intimate, like a conversation held in a dimly lit room where the only thing that matters is the truth you’re finally ready to admit to yourself.

The narrative finds Budd drifting, navigating the strange territory of being reborn while haunted by the weight of his past. The prompt for this issue asks a deceptively simple question: can he sustain the momentum of healing? It’s not just about Budd, though. The ripples of his choices extend outward, touching Theresa and her family in ways that feel both inevitable and painful. Lemire maps the geometry of grief and hope, showing how one man’s struggle to make peace echoes through the generations.

Why pick up this specific issue? Because Lemire does something few creators can: he makes the internal external. The art, the colors, the pacing—they all converge to create a sensory experience of memory and longing. You don’t just read about Budd’s emotional state; you feel the texture of his uncertainty. It’s a masterclass in visual storytelling, where a single panel can carry the weight of a chapter. If you’ve been following Budd’s journey, this is the chapter where the character truly lives with the consequences of his actions.

If the emotional resonance of Lemire’s focus on family trees and inherited trauma calls to you, you might also want to look at his earlier work on Essex County. There’s a similar spirit there—a deep, aching love for flawed people trying to find their way home. It’s that same vein of quiet humanity that makes his best work so enduring, and it shines brightly here.

One insider aside: keep an eye on the cover. Lemire’s illustration for this issue captures the mood perfectly—restrained, beautiful, and full of unspoken history. These covers often tell you more about the tone of the issue than the solicits ever will. It’s a subtle hint that what’s inside will be more about feeling than action, and that’s exactly where you want to be right now.