Charity & Sylvia
Writer/Artist: Tillie Walden
Publisher: Drawn & Quarterly
Publication Date: June 15, 2026
In 1807, poet and “gifted” schoolteacher Charity Bryant traveled from her home state of Massachusetts to Weybridge, Vermont to stay with her married friend, Polly Drake. Also staying with Polly at the time was her younger sister, Sylvia Drake, with whom Charity took an immediate interest. Their friendship blossomed despite rumors about Charity having led several young women “astray,” and shortly after Charity moved into a one-room residence in the nearby town of Middlebury to more seriously pursue her work as a tailor, she sent for Sylvia—her “assistant”—to join her.
Ignoring the protestations of some members of her family, Sylvia moved in with Charity. Their tailoring business began to thrive and they became a couple, beginning a decades-long romantic relationship that was, remarkably, largely respected by people in the community.
In Charity & Sylvia, Vermont Cartoonist Laureate Tillie Walden’s adult graphic novel debut, she chronicles the lives of these women and their relationship across the decades using 12-panel pages and sepia tones. The story is told in five parts, each broken down into shorter chapters with whimsical titles referencing personal and public moments. At the top, Walden assures the reader of the historical accuracy of the book—which is based on the extensive documentation of Charity and Sylvia’s diaries, letters, and business papers—noting,
“Some amount of detail and experience is lost. (And some was purposely destroyed. I’m looking at you, Charity. I, the Author and Narrator, have filled such gaps to the best of my ability. I have also accentuated and changed certain details in the spirit of drama and understanding. Please know that such acts do not diminish that what follows is true and undeniable.”
In many ways, Charity & Sylvia is a testament to the importance of archival work, particularly when it comes to the lives of queer and trans people. The “gaps” Walden writes of would be far larger if not for the significant documentation still available to us. Historic evidence that queer women could build a life for themselves even in a community equally invested in prayer and gossip is significant, especially during ongoing attacks on the rights of LGBTQIA+ individuals in the U.S. today—two centuries after Charity Bryant and Sylvia Drake lived and loved each other as lifelong companions.
In the 19th century, piousness was a particularly important part of American life, and religious concerns permeate the lives of Charity and Sylvia—particularly the latter, whose devoutness leads her to dream of hellfire and fear what awaits them both in death. Choosing to openly live as unmarried companions paints them as oddities at best, with plenty of their peers and relatives pointing out the “unnaturalness” of what they’re doing.
Walden successfully balances community commentary with hard-won intimacy in Charity & Sylvia, providing narrative context through textual asides. Finely detailed maps and location sketches further situate the story. Combined, these techniques make the graphic novel at times feel like a filmed documentary, with some characters even “breaking the fourth wall” as if being interviewed specifically for the book, as seen in the art above.
This feeling doesn’t detract from the overall warmth of the book, nor does it feel out of place. There’s a general rusticness to Charity & Sylvia that feels appropriate both to the setting of the story and to the fitting together of its vignettes. These women did not seek to become famous, as Walden notes in her afterword; they merely lived their lives, mourned their dead, and cared for each other long into old age.
Intimate scenes, such as those depicting Charity and Sylvia at home—first in their one-room rental, then in the house they build together—or in stolen moments of privacy, pare down background details and dialogue to allow their body language to do most of the talking. There’s nothing salacious on display here, yet their desire for each other is clear in how Walden draws their hands touching, their shared laughter, and their physical closeness. The line work speaks volumes, and the accenting color work only emphasizes each moment of connection.
As the years go on, some of their staunchest critics come to accept them, while others go to the grave refusing to share their joy. In every situation, Charity and Sylvia have each other. There’s tension between them, particularly when it comes to Sylvia’s fear of angering God (something Charity feels to a lesser degree), and like any long-term couple, they are not always on the same page—but they resolve their conflicts through communication and commitment, which evokes as much emotion as their initial declaration of feelings.
Acts of devotion that would be standard for straight, married couples become moments of import for Charity and Sylvia too, immortalized in Walden’s minute illustrations elaborating on even the smallest specifics. Her care for this story is evident in the telling of it, not just in the scenes actually shared between the characters but in the historical context provided in section breaks.
Charity was born just one year after the Declaration of Independence was signed, Sylvia seven years after Charity. These women effectively grew up alongside the U.S. in its first century, and Walden’s inclusion of major historical events puts their relationship and reactions to it into important perspective. Biographies of those who didn’t hold public roles provide understanding of everyday life during a given period, and Charity & Sylvia further offers a look into how queerness was accepted (at least in some cases) in small-town New England during the first years of America’s status as an independent country.
The intertwining of real quotes from Sylvia and Charity’s writing with Walden’s imaginings of how some days might have gone according to their records create a joint portrait that feels deeply honest, even in areas Walden admittedly fictionalized for the sake of the story.* Walden’s art encapsulates so much beyond the written narrative and dialogue here, and the hints toward what’s to come only serve to make its ending feel more powerful.
As both a testament to the importance of queer archival work and a devotional account of two real women who deeply, deeply loved each other, Charity & Sylvia is, quite frankly, a masterclass. It lovingly documents a slice of queer history during a time when we are especially in need of reminders that queer people have always been here and will always be here, living, loving, and thriving in community.
Simply put, Walden knocks it out of the park with Charity & Sylvia. It’s a must-have for comics fans, history lovers, and those looking to create robust, physical libraries of stunningly rendered LGBTQIA+ media.
Final Verdict: Buy
*For more information about Walden’s process and research, visit CharityAndSylvia.com.
