"We buried one of dad's lungs," announces the narrator of Marion Fayolle's The Tenderness of Stones. The lung is so large it takes three men to carry it -- and that is just the beginning. The family looks on as, under the dispassionate orders of anonymous white-clad strangers, their father is disassembled, piece by piece: his nose is removed from face and tied, temporarily, to his neck; his other lung is pulled out and he is forced to pull it around in a cart; his mouth is pried off and stored away, leaving him mute. Beneath it all is one devastating truth: soon, he will be gone entirely. Fayolle is one of the most innovative young artists in contemporary comics, and in this startling, gorgeously drawn fable she offers a vision of family illness and grief that is by turns playful and profound, literal and lyrical. She captures the strange swirl of love, resentment, grief, and humour that comes as we watch a loved one transformed before our eyes, and learn to live without them.