Harlem, title notwithstanding, is less about the neighborhood in upper Manhattan than it is about Stephanie St. Clair, aka Queenie, aka Frenchie, an immigrant from Guadeloupe in the French West Indies who ran a profitable racketeering operation, along with other legal and illegal enterprises, and staved off the encroachment of the Italian Mafia and other New York City mobsters who wanted to seize control of her racket.

The book, by French-Canadian writer and artist Mikael, was first published in French in two volumes in 2022 and 2023, then collected in a single English-language volume in 2024. Like Mikael's Giant, which I reviewed in 2020, it is set in New York City during the Great Depression, part of a loosely connected triptych that also included 2022's Bootblack.

In this biographical look at her life, St. Clair proves to be a fiercely independent Black woman who stands proudly in defense of her own destiny. She fends off her rivals' efforts to oust her from the scene, although she suffers losses, too, as the competition grows bloody. The mobster Dutch Schultz in particular attempts -- and fails -- to bring her down.

But her enterprises don't last forever, and St. Clair does serve some time in prison. She still manages to turn the tables on some of her goes, with her testimony being pivotal in sending corrupt New York City policemen to jail. Still wealthy after her stints in prison, she becomes an outspoken proponent of civil rights in her later years, dying at age 82 in 1969.

To the best of my knowledge, both Giant and Bootblack are purely fictional, while Harlem is a dramatic presentation of a remarkable, if criminal, slice of history. Mikael certainly brings a piece of Depression-era New York to life through the lens of St. Clair's activities at the time, and readers will come away with a sense of strong, but at the same time deeply flawed, figure from a tumultuous period in Harlem's history.

Mikael relates much of St. Clair's story through imagined dialogue, and many panels contain no text at all. He lets his images -- dingy, drab, with subtle flairs of color, particularly yellow, to give them a bit of zing and direct the reader's focus -- tell much of the story, and he uses flashbacks to flesh out his protagonist. His illustrations are stark, realistic and highly detailed, letting New York itself fill in the gaps in St. Clair's story.

It's definitely a worthwhile read for anyone with a passing interest in mob culture and post-Prohibition New York City.