An Age of License is Lucy Knisley’s latest memoir/travelogue-thingy. It depicts an uncertain time in her mid-twenties, on a trip through Europe, and the discoveries she made about herself there.

Let me just say first off: I adore Knisley’s work. French Milk is one of my very favorite graphic novels. Though I do not like to cook, I also adored Relish, her cooking memoir. The moment I heard that this book was coming out, I put myself on the hold list at the library. It came in to me last week.

My thoughts on the book are, unfortunately, divided. On the positive side, I enjoyed the art and humor and the observations that Knisley made all throughout the book. On the negative side, I didn’t feel like there was as strong of a narrative arc to this one. I understand that this is, essentially, a journal – but so was French Milk. I felt like, as a book, An Age of License lacked focus in places. While it was fantastic as a collection of little stories – I did really love all the little tangents and meanderings – it didn’t, as a whole, have the same power as the first two I read.

That’s not to say I didn’t like it. I did enjoy the book, as I said above, and I will continue to voraciously read Knisley’s future work. I just didn’t feel this one had quite as much brilliance as French Milk or Relish.