Readers of The Lost Art

Whiteout vol. 1

 

Whiteout vol. 2: Melt

 

Author: Greg Rucka

Artist:  Steve Lieber

Reviewer: Jean

[Minor spoilers]

These two neat little volumes collect two linked mini-series, written by Rucka before the success of ‘Queen and Country’, reissued for the benefit of admirers of that later work, and to exploit the connection with a forthcoming movie. It should transfer very well to film, and not only because of the stunning setting – the plot and characterisation are no more than can be fitted comfortably into a feature-length film. Yet perversely, I liked this modest early work better than its much praised successor. 

The two volumes are two separate crime stories featuring US Marshall Carrie Stetko, the first detection-based, the second pure thriller. Contemporary crime fiction – the text variety – is frequently given an exotic setting: the Navajo Reservation, or fourteenth century Devon. ‘Whiteout’ parallels this trend, but Antarctica is more than just a colourful setting. It fascinates both creators, and allows Steve Lieber to experiment with technical solutions to the question, how do you keep it interesting, when every scene is white on white (and you have to render it in monochrome)? Greg Rucka is clearly fascinated by the icy, hostile territory, and indulges in massive info-dumps, delivered in voice-over, heavy symbolism (Carrie is frozen, too) and a quantity of poetic reverie about the lure of the ice. How tolerable you find this probably depends on how far you share his fascination. 

Compared to this, the plotting is somewhat perfunctory, and the two stories are more similar than is strictly advisable. There is a suspicious event, caused by a unscrupulous people who break the strict rules governing this international territory, and since Carrie is on the spot she is called in to investigate, teamed with a foreign agent whom she does not trust (in the first story, a blonde British woman who is Tara Chace in all but name). But the handling of this basic structure is very different. ‘Whiteout’ itself is constructed around complications and false appearances, but its complexities are sometimes hard to follow – and this isn’t helped by the way the authors themselves occasionally seem to lose the thread (so a dead man is identified as someone who has not been listed as a member of the team; not to mention that drilling for mineral samples apparently produces rods of pure gold). 

The sequel, ‘Melt’, is simpler, and not only because it substitutes a chase across the ice for the intellectual deduction of book one. Carrie, frozen since the death of her husband, sent to Antarctica as punishment for killing a criminal in what was evidently seen as over-reaction, has now thawed enough to enjoy a one night stand in an igloo with a Russian she does not trust. But then Carrie is no longer the central character, having been shouldered out of the way by Antarctica herself, who makes the US Marshall redundant by picking off the evil-doers one by one.

It isn’t ‘The Left Hand of Darkness’, and it isn’t ‘Miss Smilla’s Feeling for Snow’. But if you don’t demand too much of it, it’s a diverting enough read. 

Whiteout

• Paperback: 128 pages
• Publisher: Oni Press; illustrated edition edition (1 Jul 2007)
• Language: English  
• ISBN-10: 193266470X

Whiteout: Melt

• Paperback: 120 pages
• Publisher: Oni Press (15 Aug 2000)
• Language: English  
• ISBN-10: 1929998031

Created by: Shekhar Kapur
Writer: Zeb Wells
Artist: Michael Gaydos

Reviewer: Louise

Snake Woman volume 2, “The Pilgrim’s Progress” continues the tale of Jessica Petersen. In volume 1, “A Snake in the Grass”, Jessica, a twenty-something waitress in Los Angeles, discovered that she is the reincarnation of Janahara, an ancient Indian snake goddess. Over 150 years ago, a party of marauding British soldiers descrated her temple and murdered her followers. Since then, Janahara and the souls of the soldiers in the party – the 68 – have been fated to be reincarnated in each generation. Only if the goddess, through her new human host, can kill all of them in the course of a single lifetime, will the cycle be broken.

Volume 2 deals with the consequences of the bargain Jessica struck with Harker, the head of the 68, who has his own motives for wanting the 68 dead. The story twists and turns; Jess is becoming more comfortable with her snakish side (and the parts where she morphs into a half-human, half reptilian shape can be very gruesome), but at the same time, she learns that no-one can be trusted.

“Snake Woman: A Pilgrim’s Progress” is a gripping read. In many ways it reads like a pleasingly darker and more twisted version of Buffy; the young woman gifted with supernatural strength and abilities, both blessed and cursed by her destiny. (And at this point I shall take a moment to enjoy the feeling of reading a book with a female protagonist who actually resembles a real living woman in personality, figure, and wardrobe. Well, apart from the whole “scales and fangs” thing.)

Unlike Buffy, however, Jessica isn’t killing soulless vampires, but human beings, and the source of her power appears ever more amoral as the series unfolds. This volume contains the Snake Woman origin story, narrated from the point of view of the snake goddess herself, Janahara, who appears to have chillingly little conscience or concern for the women who are her instruments of revenge. Whether Jessica will use or be used by her powers – and whether she can ever stop killing – becomes ever more pressing as the story unfolds and her battle against the 68 and their servants becomes even nastier. Harker is a very effective adversary; both brutal and clever, he’s far from the one-note villains that drag down many otherwise promising series.

The artwork is pretty spare, but appropriate for the story, and the cover art is also pretty good. I finished the book wanting to go find the first volume to fill in the bits I’d missed, and thinking “Hmm, I might well pick up the next one in the series” which is one of the marks of a good book. So, all in all, recommended, but I’d more strongly recommend picking up volume 1 first and starting from the beginning.

• Paperback: 144 pages
• Publisher: Virgin Comics (15 Oct 2007)
• Language English
• ISBN-10: 1934413070

(First published 08/02/2008.)

Author: Robert Venditti

Reviewer: Louise

It’s 2054, and humanity has perfected the art of building life-like humanoid robots. Known as “surrogates”, it’s now possible to purchase a new robotic body and, with the help of a data feed, use it to carry out everyday life without a person’s real body ever having to leave their home.

Naturally, however, several radical groups oppose this development, preaching a return to “living life, rather than experiencing it”. When a techno-terrorist starts destroying surrogate bodies, will the Metro Police Department manage to catch him before society breaks down?

The Surrogates is very much a gripping read, and really delves into the different aspects of this new technology; should children be allowed surrogate bodies? If prejudice exists against, for example, women doing certain jobs, is it more effective for them to simply buy themselves a male-body “surrogate” and portray themselves as male, rather than trying to overcome anti-female prejudice? Fortunately, the ongoing mystery plot, featuring a cop who himself is not sure about whether surrogates are really such a good idea, stops the story from getting too bogged down. The ending, to me, felt a little muddled, but overall I enjoyed the book and would recommend it.

Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Top Shelf Productions Inc. (30 Aug 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1891830872

(First published 14/12/2007.)

Adapter:  Mike Carey
Author:    Neil Gaiman
Artist:      Glenn Fabry

Reviewer: Louise

A graphic novel adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s fantasy series for the BBC, “Neverwhere” tells the tale of Richard Mayhew, who slips between the cracks of modern-day London, and finds himself in London Below, a parallel world beneath the city streets. Here, Knightsbridge is the Night’s Bridge, a deadly crossing through darkness, the Earl’s Court is held aboard a Tube train, and there are real shepherds in Shepherd’s Bush (though you don’t want to meet them). Desperately trying to return to his old life, Richard joins the Lady Door, an orphaned young woman trying to stay ahead of Mr Croup and Mr Vandemar, the assassins who killed her family. With the aid of two adventurers – the Marquis de Carabas and the warrioress Hunter – Richard and Door must struggle to, respectively, survive and avenge the deaths of loved ones, but who they can trust is a difficult question…

Since Neverwhere is already a TV series and a book, it’s tempting to ask what is added to the story by the graphic novel format. A major advantage of this format over that of TV is that the artist isn’t hampered by the limitations of a BBC special effects budget, and the characters appear perhaps more as Gaiman would have wished them to. The Marquis de Carabas appears entirely black from head to toe, Door’s outfits are more elaborate and ornate, and the Beast under London is a truly terrifying sight. It’s certainly worth a read – I enjoyed it even though I wasn’t familiar with the story.

¦lt;br /> • Paperback: 224 pages
• Publisher: Titan Books Ltd (25 Mar 2006)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 184576353X

 (First published 21/12/2007.)

Authors: Derek Kirk Kim & Jesse Hamm

Reviewer: Jean

******Spoilers for the plot and ending******

I was glad of the chance to read “Good as Lily”. I’d sampled the Minx imprint with “The Plain Janes”, and found it lightweight but respectable entertainment; I’d enjoyed Derek Kirk Kim’s “Same Difference” – the “other stories” less so, they felt like filler, material included to bulk out something that wasn’t quite ready to be a full length publication. All the more reason to find out how he’d developed.

Ah, well, you can’t win them all.

It begins well enough. It’s Grace’s 18th birthday, her gang of friends have organised a party in the park, she has been accepted by a seriously prestige university, and there is ice-cream – or, failing ice-cream, the pink pig-shaped piñata the ice-cream vendor insists she buy. This cute visual motif loses something in the black and white interior artwork,
but it plays its part in the story, mysteriously bringing Grace into contact with three other Graces, herself at different ages.

But this isn’t a story about alternate time lines, different possibilities: these are all versions of the same Grace, setting out from the child who had to cope with the sudden death of her older sister (the Lily of the title, to whom she feels herself constantly compared), passing through “our” Grace, just eighteen and with adult life beginning
to open before her, and on to two older selves, the 29 year old and the old woman, with troubles of their own.

It’s “A Christmas Carol”, as Grace finds out who she may become, if she isn’t careful. On the surface, Grace’s other selves show her nothing of her future life, and instead throw themselves into her present. Her 29 year old self becomes her rival in her crush on her high-school drama teacher, her old self smokes too much and feels sorry for herself, and
her younger self causes a food fight with the girl who has been bullying her, it seems, for years. All this generates the sort of incident that might be invoked as “with hilarious results”, but it also reveals the deep unhappiness of the three temporally displaced Graces – and it is they, rather than the present Grace, who must mend their lives by changing.

So far, so saccharine: the child Grace seeks reassurance that her parents care for her as they did for her dead sister, and once she has that reassurance, she vanishes (as does Lily, pretty much). The older Graces are more problematic, because their unhappiness comes from Grace’s unfulfilled crush on Mr Levon, which blinds her to the attractions of her best friend Jeremy. This is why at 29 she is so lonely she tries to build that crush into a genuine romance, and this is why as an old woman she engineers the opportunity to change the course of her younger self.

Do I believe that Grace’s life is ruined by failing to notice Jeremy’s feelings for her? That’s what the book says: that once this crucial moment is passed, he never tries again, that she never meets anyone else, that going to Stanford doesn’t enable her to build a career that gives her any satisfaction… I’m not exactly the target audience for this book, but that doesn’t sound to me like much of a message to give teenaged girls, either.

Paperback: 176 pages
Publisher: Titan Books Ltd (28 Sep 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1845765710

(First published 10/12/2007.)

Writer: Mark Millar  (and various)

Artist: Steve McNiven (and various)

Reviewer: Alex

******Some spoilers later on******

OK, this has been brewing for some time. Being a cantankerous and bile-filled cynic of the worst kind, the thought of putting the boot into bad comics in reviews holds a particular cathartic appeal for me. However, up till now, my reviews here have been mostly positive, since a lot of the stuff we’ve read has been good and deserving of promotion to a wider audience (and the stuff that hasn’t been so good has mostly been obscure enough that actively discommending it seems a bit of a waste of time).  Finally, though, we’ve read something thoroughly deserving of a damn good kicking, a series that epitomises most of what’s wrong in mainstream American comics: Marvel’s Civil War.

The first and perhaps most significant problem with it, before even considering the content, is that it’s spread over a multitude of titles. Massive ‘big event’ crossovers seemed to have died a death a few years back, but now appear to be firmly back in fashion (of course, as any superhero comic reader will tell you, dramatic returns from the dead are tediously common). Civil War doesn’t do much to justify the term ‘event’ (‘non-event’ might be a more appropriate description), but it certainly is ‘big’ – covering pretty much everything in standard Marvel Universe continuity. Now, I’m not going to bemoan ‘shared universes’ for titles from the same publisher. There’s nothing too wrong with a guest character popping up briefly in another title, or even having large-scale events being reflected across the line so that each title provides another facet to the backdrop, rounding it out for those that care to follow multiple titles. What’s so disgustingly commercial about the ‘big event’ crossovers is the way they bully and trick readers into picking up other titles for fear of missing some vital link in the story. I’m sure Marvel would claim each can be read as a standalone, but the branding slapped over each volume to ensure uniformity tells a different story. Marvel and DC have long faced the accusation that they’re trying to push other companies’ comics off the shelves simply by putting out inflated numbers of titles themselves, and the sales boosts that crossovers engender (from completist fanboys buying ‘the whole story’) keep the weak spin-off titles on the shelves a few months longer, perpetuating the unmeritocratic shambles that comics distribution is.

Maybe I’m wrong about some of the minor titles. I read the core book and several of the main titles, and though I had a look through the others, I couldn’t summon the energy to do more than skim them. Frankly, if the big story doesn’t work after a few volumes, it’s not an incentive to see it through yet another character’s eyes.

Let’s be clear though: I wasn’t totally sceptical going into reading Civil War – I’m not a vehement anti-superhero comics zealot. There’s good stuff out there on the periphery of the genre (Ex Machina is the standout, though it’s only really got a nod to superheroes) and our group has read some half-decent mainstream re-imaginings (Seven Soldiers, The Ultimates), so Civil War represented a good opportunity to see where original-universe mainstream superhero comics were at today. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to know where it wanted to be, caught in a no man’s land between old-school superheroics and newer, more original takes on the idea.

The set up is fairly straightforward. A B-list superhero team start a battle with some supervillains that results in one of the supervillains blowing up a school. This provokes gnashing of teeth and the suggestion that all superheroes should register themselves with the government to ensure they’re all properly trained. Some superheroes like this idea, some don’t. Cue assorted ruckuses.

It seems slightly churlish to pick plot holes apart. After all, this is superhero comics – and that’s got to warrant some leeway in suspension of disbelief. I’d argue that Civil War requires waaaay too much leeway, but to avoid tedium, I’ll just use the setup as an example which seems particularly stupid and artificial. The supervillain who blew up the school seemed to have the ability to explode at will. We’re told that the team that took him on weren’t sufficiently capable of doing it and by starting a battle in the suburbs, were partly responsible for the outcome. Eh? Captain America would presumably be considered major league enough to have led the battle, but what would he have done against someone who can explode at will? Left the villains alone? Chucked his shield at them? Chucked the shield REALLY HARD? Pfooey, I say.

Although there are plenty of moments like this throughout the story, they could probably have been glossed over if the story and delivery had been sufficiently engaging and interesting. Unfortunately, whilst there are occasional moments of melodramatic potential, they’re mostly squandered and it’s hard to see exactly what Civil War’s appeal is meant to be.

A lot of superhero comics’ problems boil down to their audience: they’re nominally still for kids, yet they aspire to mature and sophisticated themes for a general adult audience, and, perhaps most problematically, they apparently have to appease their main demographic of fervent long-term adult fans. The kids can’t comprehend years’ worth of insanely convoluted back-story for each character and are bored by the po-faced ramblings that pass for mature themes. Non-fan adults also can’t be bothered with the back-story continuity and aren’t impressed when the attempts at ‘mature themes’ are risibly simplistic. So it is that in the end, this kind of comic only really appeals to the fans, which is why sales figures for comics are, on the whole, dwindling.

Civil War definitely seems to be afflicted by these issues. The myriad characters, cross-book complexity and general nonsensical plotting mean it probably doesn’t hold much appeal for kids. Neither does it hold much appeal to non-fan adults. It tries to say something about the nature of authority and responsibility in a world of superheroes – a theme that’s been done better before (in various things, including Powers and even Watchmen), but which could still have been worthwhile had it been handled better. As it is, though, it’s simplistic and unsophisticated and fails to say anything much at all.

Some heroes agree with the registration scheme, some don’t. Instead of sitting down and discussing it, they just fight each other. The Iron Man book is a great example of this. It covers several meetings of Iron Man and Captain America, old friends who now lead the opposing factions (Iron Man: pro-registration, Captain America: anti-registration). Some of it works – a sense of sadness at friendships lost comes across in their reminiscences of old times; however, there is still almost no discussion of the practical details of the registration, the pragmatics behind it, or any of the stuff that it would make sense for these two to be discussing. They’re just on opposite sides and that’s all that seems to matter, so – you know what? Yeah, they have a punch-up.

The arbitrary nature of this ideological schism (that is obviously so profound that no one can actually talk about it in any detail) is highlighted in the way it’s brought to an end in an entirely piddling offhand manner. Again, there’s a potentially nice little melodramatic moment, as Captain America is leapt on by normal members of the public (and his shocked realisation that they no longer see him as being on ‘their side’), but it’s immediately rendered stupid by the fact that not only is this all it takes for Cap to completely reverse his views, but all the other anti-registration heroes do too! What?!

This ideological black-and-whiteness is seen all over the place. A notable example is that when supervillains come along to help out one side, they’re actually referred to as ‘supervillains’; there’s no sense that there’s a scale of morality for superpersons – ‘hero’ or ‘villain’, that’s it. I suppose Civil War’s hook is meant to be that it’s largely ‘heroes versus heroes’ instead of the usual ‘heroes versus villains’, but it’s a slamming indictment of the genre that even with ‘heroes versus heroes’, the characters still try to resolve their differences simply by duffing each other up. Perhaps it’s an American thing, this desire to have ludicrously simple beliefs that you haven’t thought through and won’t discuss, but will happily go and fight for.

Another problem with all this fighting (and another classic problem in mainstream superhero comics), is that despite the incredible powers being wielded by the characters, there are minimal injuries. Everyone fights… then goes back to the status quo – that’s how it works to keep the fans happy. In those rare instances where there is a fatality, it feels out-of-place and contrived. In the big inter-hero battles, I think only one character dies, and predictably they’re just about well-known enough for this to have ‘impact’, but not so well-known as to have a fanbase that would be unhappy seeing their favourite character killed off. It feels utterly manipulative and artificial.

Another example (and another potentially interesting scene that’s ruined) is where the Z-list supervillains arrive at the heroes’ base, say “hello, we’re supervillains, we’d like to help out”, then immediately get shot in the head by the Punisher (because he’s so zero tolerance). Captain America is enraged and attacks the Punisher but the Punisher won’t fight back because the Cap is his idol; Cap, of course, furiously denies any similarity between them. This relationship is potentially fascinating, but it’s already been undermined by the despatching of two Z-list characters simply to add to the drama.

I suppose the art deserves a mention – it’s okay. It varies from book to book, some good, some less so, all pretty professional (just occasionally a little rushed or sloppy). It’s a shame that so many books-worth of potentially decent art is wasted on the pointless gubbins that is Civil War.

Well, there you go. The stuff that should be straightforward is complicated, the stuff that should be complex is simplistic, and the whole thing feels contrived. If this is where mainstream superheroics is at, the best thing to do is leave it alone till it can drop the baggage of its past to make mature comics without strictures or genuine kids comics without pretension.

Paperback: 196 pages
Publisher: Panini (UK) Ltd.; UK Edition edition (9 April 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1905239602

(First published 14/11/2007.)

Writer: C. Gaby Mitchell.

Artist: Eddie Campbell

Reviewer: Jean 

‘The Black Diamond Detective Agency’ opens with a full-page portrait of
a man, cropped just at the shoulders, in close-up against a blank
background. It is the same composition as the cover picture of
Campbell’s ‘The Fate of the Artist’, and the face does bear a certain
resemblance to Campbell. Is this significant? Who knows.

The man is known as John Hardin, though this is not his real name. John
Wesley Hardin (Wikipedia ref: John Hardin) – not Harding, as in
the Dylan album – was a notorious outlaw in the American west. Does this
tell us something about our John Hardin, or is it pure coincidence?

I had to work hard to follow the story of ‘The Black Diamond Detective
Agency’, and I’d like to believe that that’s deliberate, that it’s a
complex and demanding piece of narrative, full of allusions and
narrative shifts. Then again, it’s a book which opens with a prologue in
which the lead character looks at, and through, an empty picture frame,
then is shown in cutaway through a window frame, before the announcement
“Chapter 1: The Frame” No, really? You don’t say!

What kind of book is it? The opening feels like a Western, the rural
setting, the tormented couple, the train and the great explosion (“the
train was bang on time” – not a bad joke, but one which goes against the
mood being created here); but the scene shifts to Chicago, and detecive
work among the big city gangs. That seems clever, a subtle way of
playing with our expectations – except for the final reveal, which comes
from a different sort of story altogether, so again, maybe this isn’t
deliberate.

And so on. When the poor likeness on the wanted poster is identified by
the label ‘the crap portrait’, is this a commentary on the recurring
issue of recognition, or just a clumsy piece of superfluous information?
Is the shoot-out at the station a brilliant depiction of a chaotic
outburst of violence, or is it just confused?

‘The Black Diamond Detective Agency’ is an elegant-looking piece of
work, with its muted tones of grey, brown and sepia and its shocking
outbursts of red, with its cover which pastiches a 19th century
handbill: “Orphans! Mayhem!”. But I suspect that there is less to it
than meets the eye.

Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: First Second (4 Jun 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1596431423

(First published 07/11/2007.)

Writer: Peter David

Artist: Fabian Nicieza

Reviewer: Louise

This trade paperback collects several Civil War-related Marvel comics; “X-Factor”, and “Cable and Deadpool”.

Background to Marvel: Civil War
The full story of the Marvel: Civil War arc would, I suspect, take up more space that I actually have allocated on the server for the entirety of this website. So for the purposes of understanding the plot, the basics are: a tragic incident in which innocent bystanders were killed during a battle between superheroes and villains has led to calls for all individuals in the Marvel Universe with super-powers to be registered with the authorities. Predictably, some are all in favour of this, and some are vehemently opposed. (More than this I cannot be bothered to learn. I may love graphic novels, but I also fondly like to imagine that I have a life, and said life is too short to try to comprehend a multi-book story arc that requires eager fans to start posting “suggested reading orders” of the books involved on the ‘net.)

X-Factor

The X-Factor issues collected here cover a clash between X-Factor and the X-Men over whether to hand over super-powered individuals for registration. I can’t really say much more than that, for the simple reason that, like many of the more tangential “tie-ins” to the Civil War story arc, you really need to know the background and the back-story to the issues collected to get the most out of them (and to really understand what’s going on). The artwork is very well done, however, with a slightly noir-ish feel.

Cable and Deadpool
Anyway, Cable and Deadpool. Both mercenaries, both deadly, but where Cable is opposed to the Registration Act, Deadpool’s all for it; more money for him, since he’s looking to find a job tracking down and bringing in unregistered heroes and villains. Unfortunately, he screws up from start to finish, managing to get himself beaten up by the Great Lakes Avengers (possibly the naffest super-hero team in the entire Marvel Universe) and held captive, desperate for the toilet. (Yes, the writing is that good.) Fortunately, he’s rescued by Cable, who teleports them both to the White House. Lucky for Deadpool – until the US president orders him to kill Cable…

You may have guessed that I’m not a huge fan of this book. Largely, as is so often the way with so many graphic novels, there’s an interesting potential story here which is being ignored. Deadpool’s point towards the end of the book about war and law enforcement being taken over by private contractors is extremely relevant in the current climate, and this could have been quite interesting as a counterpoint to the whole “morality of war” issue being raised by the other books. Unfortunately, the book can’t seem to decide whether it wants to go into this in more detail, or whether it wants to be a hi-larious romp taking the mickey out of the seriousness of the rest of the Civil War series, and ends up being neither.

Part of the problem is that the writers, in writing Deadpool’s character, are hamstrung by the need to keep everything PG-13. I’m all for crude, mouthy anti-heroes poking fun at Marvel’s po-faced universe, but for Deadpool’s character to work – for him to appear as the deadly ninja mercenary, capable of seriously taking on Cable in a one-on-one fight, that he’s supposed to be – he needs to not be using the “Lawksamussy!”-type expletives that Marvel’s books are still annoyingly littered with. And the reference towards the start to “Spiderman being doe-eyed Toby Maguire” is just baffling; is this book supposed to be part of Marvel’s continuity or not? I give up. Anyway, Cable and Deadpool! A missed opportunity.

Publisher: Marvel Comics (23 May 2007)
Language English
ISBN-10: 0785122435
ISBN-13: 978-0785122432

(First published 31/10/2007.)

¦lt;br /> Writer: Warren Ellis 

Artist: Raulo Caceres

Reviewer: Louise

Crecy is a departure from the norm of graphic novels, being a (more or less) straight retelling of the Battle of Crecy in 1346. Narrated by a foul-mouthed archer, William of Stoneham, the novel has an almost documentary feel to it, following William from the march to the battlefield, through the preparations for the battle, the battle itself and the aftermath, with digressions along the way to discuss the history of the Crecy campaign and the battlefield technology involved.

If that sounds worthy, believe me, it’s not. It’s violent, foul-mouthed (I’ve rarely seen the word c*** used so many times in a graphic novel), and scatological. In other words, it’s a Warren Ellis graphic novel, and a very good one. It really does suck you into the time period of its setting. In 48 pages, Ellis and Caceres (whose black-and-white art throughout is superb) take the reader through the politics of the Hundred Years’ War, the history of Britain until that point, and the (violent, bigoted) attitudes of the English soldiers involved.

Ellis makes no bones about the fact that war is a bloody and horrible business, and nor does Caceres’ art. A particularly effective scene is drawn from the perspective of the arrows about to rain down on the French side’s Genoese crossbowmen; the looks of sheer horror on their faces at the knowledge of what is about to happen to them, following by a panel showing skulls being crushed and eyes popping out as the arrows strike home is stunningly effective in conveying the horrible reality of war in the medieval era.

What lifts this beyond a mere documentary is way the narrator speaks directly to us, his twenty-first century audience, pointing out not only what he is doing, but also the wider implications. An especially memorable line has him saying “Don’t forget; we’re as intelligent as you, but without the same level of cumulative knowledge”, thus placing the arrow technology of Crecy in the context of the ongoing development of war technology leading into our own era of nuclear weapons and germ warfare. The final panel, with William standing triumphant over a field of French corpses, making the famous longbowman’s gesture of defiance which decorates the novel’s front cover, is stunningly effective, making Ellis’ point better than any long pages of dialogue could do; the Battle of Crecy is where notions of chivalry in warfare began to die, and the modern era of win-at-all-costs war began.
 

Have I persuaded you to go out and read it yet?

• Paperback: 48 pages
• Publisher: Avatar Press (25 Jul 2007)
• Language English
• ISBN-10: 1592910408

(First published 24/10/2007.)

Writer: Mark Millar
Artists: Dave Johnson, Killian Plunkett

Reviewer: Aaron

It’s a simple enough premise. What if the rocket ship carrying an infant Superman crashed 12 hours earlier or later than in the mainstream DC universe? What if that perfect symbol of Truth, Justice and the American Way ™ had not in fact crashed in a Kansas cornfield? What if it had crashed right in the middle of a Soviet collective?

It’s a hell of a set up, and in a lesser man’s hands it would have made a solid enough story. Take Superman and transform him into a symbol of Soviet oppression. A Man of Steel with Superman’s powers and Stalin’s brutality, paranoia and maybe even his moustache. The antithesis of the hero we’ve grown to know and love. Yeah, that would be good. But Red Son is better.

Red Son manages to present the reader with a straightforward, action story with a political edge and at the same time pepper the story with many of the elements of the Superman mythos that have embedded him so firmly in the comics landscape. The Fortress of Solitude, Lois Lane, The Daily Planet, Lex Luthor, Brainiac, Kandor (well, okay, Stalingrad), Superman’s fellow JLA superheroes, hell, even Doomsday turns up for a panel. All are present and correct, along with many other off the cuff homages liberally spread throughout the narrative, never threatening to overshadow the story.

Most of this is down to Mark Millar. Communist. Writer of Marvel’s Civil War. These character flaws aside, Millar remains one of the finest writers of superhero comics working today. Combining an ear for a pithy one liner, a schoolboy enthusiasm for superhuman feats of violence, a vast knowledge of the genre and a knack for characterisation, Millar is a natural choice for the field, and for this project, as in Red Son all of these qualities are abundantly in evidence. Add to that an unusual (for Millar) respect for the character and gorgeous artwork from both Johnson and , in the final issue, Plunkett and you get a truly enjoyable reading experience.

Read it as a straightforward Superhero story. Read it as a Greatest Hits montage of Superman’s comic career. Read it as an allegorical look into Superman and his effect upon the world. But do read it. It’s well worth your time.

Format: Paperback
Publisher: DC Comics 2004
Language: English
ISBN: 1-4012-0191-1

(First published 30/08/2007.)

Writer: Gotham Chopra

Artist: Deepak Chopra

Reviewer: Louise

The Sadhu represents a interesting take on the “warrior’s mystic quest” genre. Set in India under British rule during the reign of Victoria, it follows an James Jensen, an English soldier who, following a personal tragedy, becomes a sadhu, a spiritual warrior with supernatural gifts. Yet Jensen is consumed with rage, and, in seeking to rid himself of it, sets himself and his brother on a collision course with his worst enemy…

The Sadhu is an interesting departure from superhero fare, inasmuch as it focuses on the teachings of Hinduism and the supernatural abilities said to be granted to those who devote themselves to its teachings. It must be said that the artwork is very, very, good, particularly in the depiction of the Hindu goddess Kali. Indeed, the sections describing Kali, the ferocious demon-slaying goddess, really jump off the page. The plot rattles along at a fair clip.

If I have one complaint with it, it’s that the book can’t seem to decide whether it wants to delve deeply into the mystic aspects of Jensen’s journey, or stick to the tried-and-true quest plot of a man seeking to transform himself into a fearsome warrior to avenge a tragedy and vanquish his enemies. Ultimately, it leans more towards the second approach than the first, which is in some ways a pity. There are a great many quest stories out there, but not enough Prometheas – in my opinion anyway.

I would also have liked a little more attention paid to the clash of civilisations between the culture of the British soldiers and the Indian rebels. Jensen’s enemy represents the worst aspects of the British empire. It would have been interesting to see a little more time spent on how Jensen himself reacts to the utterly different world-view of the Hindu devotees before getting on with the slam-bang action. Still, it’s not a fatal flaw. Sadhu is a gripping read, and comes recommended.

Paperback: 196 pages
Publisher: Virgin Comics (11 Jul 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1934413038

(First published 23/10/2007.)

Writer: Alan Moore.
Artist: Eddie Campbell.
Reviewer: Aaron

From Hell, written by Alan Moore and illustrated by Eddie Campbell, is, at its most basic, a retelling of the infamous Whitechapel murders of the late nineteenth century, the case of Jack the Ripper. Through the 16 chapters and 500+ pages of the book we are taken into the folds of Victorian society and follow the fates of William Withey Gull, a royal physician and Freemason, Inspector Fred Abberline, a Police Detective and Mary Kelly, a prostitute from London’s East End and target of Jack the Ripper.

The book’s title is taken from a letter sent to the Metropolitan Police at the time of the murders purporting to be from the killer, one of the few that has not been widely discredited, and the title can also be taken to reflect the reality in which the main characters live. Whilst the case of Jack the Ripper has provided fodder for any number of plays, films or books, in this story Alan Moore takes a typically interesting direction in his retelling. This is no murder mystery or whodunnit, Jack the Ripper’s identity is made plain to the reader in the early stages of the book, and we the reader follow him as he commits these terrible crimes. Instead the author uses the murders as a stepping stone into a discourse on and criticism of Victorian society and, ultimately, the birth of the twentieth century.

Though a fictionalised take on the murders, ‘From Hell’ was heavily researched by both Moore and Campbell, allowing them to build up an intricate and horrifying vision of both the killer and the society that produced him. We are shown time and again the squalor and wretchedness of the poorest areas of London in contrast to the grand elegance and comfort enjoyed by the upper echelons of society. The style of the illustration amplifies the grimy feel of the story, with every panel seeming to wallow in darkness and not coincidentally bringing to mind the infamous Penny Dreadfuls common to the era.

Moore also takes the oppurtunity to throw in an eclectic mix of cameos throughout the book including Oscar Wilde, Queen Victoria, Aleister Crowley, Alois and Klara Hitler and Jonathon Merrick, more widely known in Victorian society as the ‘Elephant Man’ due to his disfigurement, some helping to move the narrative ahead and some, you suspect, just to remind you of how very clever and well read Alan Moore is.

For all its grandiose ambition and intelligence ‘From Hell’ remains a very human story thanks to the characters of Fred Abberline and, in particular, Mary Kelly, who, in attempting to safeguard herself and her friends from street thugs, sets the narrative in motion and who remains the heart of the tale. ‘From Hell’ is not for the faint hearted and its graphic depictions of both sex and violence may not appeal to everyone’s sensibilities, but it remains amongst Moore’s, and many would say the graphic novel medium’s, finest works.

Paperback: 576 pages
Publisher: Knockabout Comics (30 Oct 2006)
Language: English
ISBN: 0861661419

(First published 29/08/2007.)

Writer: Alan Moore

Artist: David Lloyd

Reviewer: Louise

It’s hard to know where to begin with a review of “V for Vendetta”, except possibly with the words: “I’m not worthy! I’m not worthy!”.  Along with “From Hell” and “Watchmen”, “V for Vendetta” is one of Alan Moore’s masterworks, a seminal work in the history of graphic novels.

However, I shall give it a go. The plot of V is as follows: in an alternative history, Britain in 1998 lies under the control of a fascist government. All resistance has been eliminated, except for a mysterious terrorist; Codename V. When V rescues a young woman, Evey Hammond, from arrest and assault at the hands of several corrupt policemen, the stage is set for his final assault upon the fascist state…

Moore began writing this in the 1980s, and his rage at Thatcherism and Thatcher’s Britain in general is apparent throughout the novel. As with all imaginings of the future, it has dated slightly. In particular, the sequence where one character takes LSD to enhance his understanding of V and the situation he finds himself in reads somewhat oddly from the perspective of 2007.

However, in an odd way the book has perhaps become more topical – and radical – than ever. Moore makes no bones about the fact that, from the point of view of the state authorities at least, V is a terrorist, willing to blow up buildings, kill state officials and even imprison and torture his allies if necessary. Though we’re not on the side of the authorities, the book does challenge us to ask ourselves if V’s extreme methods are really essential and, if so, what sort of new society can emerge if he succeeds.

V himself, of course, is a cipher. We never learn his real name or the identity of the man behind the Guy Fawkes mask, and by the end of the book, it no longer matters, as there is nothing left of him except for his crusade. We, like Evey, must decide what path is the right one to follow when the old order has been destroyed.

It would be pointless to recommend reading this book, since, along with Watchmen, and The Dark Knight Returns, it’s one of those books you have to read if you’re even a small fan of graphic novels. But, nevertheless… you need to read it. Right now. If you haven’t already.
 

A note on the film [SPOILERS]:
I did enjoy the film of V for Vendetta, although the complex themes of Moore’s work have obviously been considerably simplified in order to create a two-hour thriller. As a fan of the book, it’s easy to spot all the “missing bits”, and I found the best way to enjoy it was to stop doing that, and enjoy it as a thriller. Hugo Weaving and Natalie Portman really are very good, and Stephen Fry’s turn as Evey’s doomed friend Gordon Dietrich lifts the film considerably. It still deserves watching as one of the few mainstream films brave enough to suggest that the Houses of Parliament being blown up is something we should all cheer!
 

Paperback: 288 pages
Publisher: Titan Books Ltd (14 April 2000)
Language English
ISBN-10: 1852862912

(First published 16/08/2007.)

Writer: Karl Edward Wagner

Artists: John Ney Rieber & Kent Williams

Reviewer: Alex

Analysed at face value, this is an okay book, with some good aspects but also some distinct flaws. However, in spite of – in fact, maybe because of – the flaws, there is something strangely pleasing about it. What gives it this peculiar appeal is the way it ploughs into grand dark artiness with nary a care for its ability to carry it off, noticeably without the irony and self-deprecation that has now become so ubiquitous in contemporary sequential art.

¦lt;br /> Appraised of itself, it doesn’t quite work. The art is nice, a mixture of realism and expressionistic sketchiness with gloomy painted colours, reminiscent of Dave McKean, though less multimedia-y. The story (about guilt, suicide and descent into the dark depths of vice and substance abuse, all with a modern fantasy/horror edge) is suited to the art and has moments of engagement. Unfortunately, ultimately it doesn’t stand up as a satisfying read; the characters aren’t hugely interesting and the plot lacks clarity, but its main problem is the way it overreaches itself, unable to match the levels of thematic substance, plot intricacy and stylishness of delivery that it seems to aspire to.

However, in these days where so much sequential art aimed at adults has some element of ironic dissociation (or else is earnest autobiography or obtuse experimentalism), the kind of gung-ho po-faced gothness displayed by Tell Me, Dark is quite refreshing. It comes through in the art and story tone, but also in endearingly pretentious touches like starting each chapter with a Baudelaire quote. Yes, its late-eighties/early-nineties roots are clear, but this is Tell Me, Dark’s allure – it speaks of bygone days, when Gaiman was doing big goth things with Sandman, when coats were massive, when The Cure were ace and the buzz of The Big Three (Watchmen, Dark Knight Returns, Maus) was still spurring many noble failures in the field of writing comics for grown-ups.

This may all sound like slight praise, but if you’ve read the breadth of current sequential art and are looking for something outside this, something evocative of the time when comics were genuinely believed to be the next big thing, this may be the tonic you need. For anyone else, Tell Me, Dark is alright but not highly recommended.
 

Paperback: 80 pages
Publisher: D C Comics (a division of Warner Brothers – A Time Warner Entertainment Co.) (1 Jan 1996)
Language English
ISBN-10: 1563890887

(First published 20/08/2007.)

Superman: Red Son

¦lt;br /> Writer: Mark Millar
Artists:

Pencillers: Dave Johnson & Kilian Plunkett.

Inkers:Andrew Robinson & Walden Wong

Reviewer: Pauline
This story is one in the series ‘Elseworlds’,(by DC) where heroes that we are familiar with, for example Superman or Batman, are put into a new situation and possibly time, so the characters’ natures have to follow a different path to the one that we usually expect.
In this one, the byline is,’The Great American Icon . . . Reimagined as a Soviet Hero!’

This stategy is potentially a risky one. The cynical view would be that the comic publishers are merely over extending the life of a well known character, as it will probably be bankable, but because most of the potential readership has had many years personal experience of reading the book and/or watching the film of the hero in their more conventional identity, we have raised expectations too. This means that the story has to be stong enough to maintain the levels of enjoyment that people normally  expect, while also exploring a completely new direction. It’s a bit like going to see your favourite old band, where you want to hear the old hits so you can sing along, but the band also wants to play their new album. You can sometimes be reluctant to welcome the new material.
 

In Red Son, you can see immediately from the cover artwork that the style and colouring borrow heavily from archetypal USSR post revolutionary art. As art styles go, this is a good era to plunder, and works well. They would have been foolish to have done anything else. Instead of the big ‘S’ emblazoned on his chest, there is a hammer and sickle symbol.
For those who flinch at pages of text embedded in within a graphic novel, there is no need to worry. There is a 3 page intro by Tom DeSanto, but it’s to the point and informative and also decorated by a kind of small scale poster in the centre of each page.
The story begins in the early 1950’s and is anchored in a mix of real cold war history, featuring Stalin, J.Edgar Hoover and the like and the cast from the world of comics including Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, Lex Luthor, Batman and Wonder Woman. Superman’s spacecraft landed in the Ukraine instead of the USA, and he has absorbed the Communist doctrine from growing up on a farm collective. He is as earnest as ever, but he is a much straighter character in that there is no swift change shananigans, as there is no Clarke Kent equivalent. In the usual Superman stories various bits of plot hinge on this device, but to be honest (and a bit to my suprise) you don’t miss that.
 

Certainly, as a child and teenager, that whole apparently ordinary bloke in  glasses/superhero transformation was a huge part of my attraction to Superman, but as a Communist, what you see is what you get- sort of. There is humour in the story, Lex Luthor’s crazy list of Mad Genius achievements get pushed for all they are worth. Both Lex’s and Superman’s characters develop to be equally extreme, Lex’s in coming up with more and more elaborate ways to get rid of Superman, and Superman’s protection of
society quietly escalates to ruthless control. Batman plays a violent,dissenting role.
The story stretches over several decades and there is some lovely playfulness with history swerving into a whimsical track, Kennedy is married to Norma Jean, and everyone wishes Nixon hadn’t been killed! All the characters age accordingly, though I think Lois looks less pretty and more jaded from the start.
 

The themes of the story are freedom versus control in society. In the introduction Tom DeSanto quotes Ben Franklin as saying “Those who would sacrifice their freedom for safety will find they inherit neither”. I guess the power struggle for these things has been around as long as polititians have been, or maybe even longer. Mark Millar started writing this book in 1995, but in these days of the barking repetition of ‘the war on terror’ and Bush, Blair and now Brown wishing to reign in personal freedoms so we can all allegedly be more secure, I find it has a very contemporary resonance.
 

That’s the serious bit over- do I think this is worth taking the time and trouble to read? Well, yes. Mark Millar and the artists have created a really engaging story, and it’s got one of the neatest endings I’ve ever seen.
 

Format: Paperback
Publisher: DC Comics 2004
Language: English
ISBN: 1-4012-0191-1

(First published 03/08/2007.)

Writers: Neil Gaiman, Garth Ennis, Jimmy Palmiotti, Dave McKean.
Artists: Various
Reviewer: Louise

¦lt;br /> Produced as a tie-in to the frankly awful movie of the Hellblazer series starring Keanu Reeves, the first half of this book is the novelisation of the movie, and the second half a collection of various John Constantine stories, including the beginning first ever Hellblazer story, a self-contained story, “Hold Me”, and the first part of the famous “Dangerous Habits” lung-cancer arc.

It’s hard to know what to make of this book. The novelisation is okay as these things go, with reasonably competant artwork. The stories are a slightly confusing choice. “Hold Me” works well as an introduction and a moving stand-alone story. However, whilst the intention with the other stories may have been to pique the reader’s interest, by only presenting the first parts of these stories, they’re more likely to infuriate you. The colouring of the first story suffers in comparison to the novelisation and the other two stories, and is likely to put off new readers rather than enticing them. All in all, you’d do better to pick up the proper Hellblazer graphic novels, and read the entire stories, not this rather muddled collection.

Paperback: 168 pages
Publisher: Titan Books Ltd (25 Feb 2005)
Language: English
ISBN: 1840239794

(First published 17/01/2007.)

Writer and Artist:  Marisa Acocella Marchetto
Reviewer:              Jean

Forget men in tights, the big subject matter in comics at the moment is cancer: specifically, the cancer memoir. The grand-daddy of them all is Joyce Brabner and Harvey Pekar’s “Our Cancer Year”, but the group has recently discussed “Mom’s Cancer”
(“Mom’s Cancer” review), and now here comes Marisa Acocella Marchetto’s “Cancer Vixen” (not a victim, get it?).

Marchetto is a successful cartoonist, selling her work to publications like “The New Yorker” and “Glamour”, where these strips originally appeared. It shows in the lively, witty depiction of individual scenes, the wisecracks and the jokes about her mother, the cancer cells shown as a hostile gang of cartoon characters; but it also shows in the meandering narrative, and the flatness of tone and the two-dimensional characterisation.

Cancer appears in Marchetto’s busy and fashionable life at a very inconvenient time, just three weeks before her wedding to Silvano who runs the favourite restaurant of the beautiful people (and the attempts of those beautiful people to seduce her husband seem to preoccupy her just as much as the disease). She details the elegant, impractical shoes
she wears to each medical appointment (as well as precisely how late she is) and rates the hospital on the stylishness of their gowns. The note is resolutely light, frivolous, upbeat.

This is surely a deliberate literary strategy, but it’s a high-risk choice: readers who are not amused by it are likely to be alienated, and those who are amused for the duration of a page or six (at least some of this material first appeared in “Glamour” magazine) may find a whole book of it wearing. It is tempting to review the author, rather than the book, and to find her shallow and self-obsessed.

The problem is that the book is not good enough to stand independently of its content. Marchetto’s concern to share titbits of information she has gathered about cancer, warning of the risks of post-operative lymphedema, willing to look a fool for allowing her health insurance to lapse in order to encourage others not to make the same mistake – it’s all well intentioned, but good intentions aren’t enough.

Hardcover: 224 pages

Publisher: Alfred A. Knopf (26 Sep 2006)

ISBN-10: 0307263576

(First published 18/07/2007.)

Writer: Brian K. Vaughan
Artists: Pia Guerra, Goran Sudzuka.
Reviewer: Louise

“Y: The Last Man” vol. 2-7 continues the tale of Yorick, the last human male left alive on Earth after a plague mysteriously wipes out every male mammal on earth – after Yorick and his pet monkey Ampersand. Accompanied by the mysterious Agent 355 and a scientist who blames herself for the plague, Dr Alison Mann, Yorick wanders the post-apocalyptic world, trying desperately to solve the mystery of the plague’s origins whilst at the same time trying to get to Australia to find his missing girlfriend, Beth.

As the story progresses in these volumes, it gets continually better. Thankfully, Vaughan knocks the antagonists of the first volume, the biker-gang Amazons, over the head early on in the series in favour of getting on with the story and exploring this strange new world. “Cycles” looks at the attempts of the women left behind by the plague to build new communities and restore civilisation. “One Small Step” tells the perilous tale of the attempt by the only two remaining human males – two astronauts orbiting the Earth – to return home, and is one of the strongest stories in the whole series. The next volume, “Safeword”, is not as strong, dealing mainly with Yorick’s survivor guilt (and taking the opportunity to have a few gratuitous semi-naked dominatrix images in there too – why?)

Thankfully, “Ring of Truth” gets back into the action with a vengeance, as Yorick begins to discover more about the plague, his long-lost and brainwashed sister Hero re-emerges, and he himself starts to fall sick with the plague. “Girl on Girl”, despite the annoyingly-obvious title, is a gripping tale of Yorick and his companions’ journey to Australia, in search of both Yorick’s girlfriend and Ampersand, who has been captured by a mysterious Japanese mercenary. “Paper Dolls” continues this tale, as a tabloid journalist seeks the ultimate scoop (and we FINALLY get a little male nudity – oh come on, the series throughout hasn’t hesitated to throw in pictures of naked women on a regular basis), Yorick arrives in Australia, and his estranged sister encounters a woman who offered shelter to Yorick and his companions, and who now has a dangerous secret that must be protected at all costs.

All in all, “Y: The Last Man” is proving a gripping tale of adventure. Wisely, Vaughan tends to deal only lightly with some of the obvious issues thrown up by the story’s central premise (can women run the world?), preferring to tell a tale of action and adventure. Yorick visibly changes throughout the series, shedding some of his annoying earlier immaturity, but remaining recognisably human and falliable. We learn more about his companions and some of the other series regulars, but Vaughan never lets this slow down the action. Addictively readable.

¦lt;br /> Y The Last Man vol. 2: Cycles
Paperback: 128 pages
Publisher: Vertigo (September 1, 2003)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401200761

Y The Last Man vol. 3: One Small Step
Paperback: 168 pages
Publisher: Vertigo (April 1, 2004)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401202012

Y The Last Man vol. 4: Safeword
Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Vertigo (December 1, 2004)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401202322

Y The Last Man vol. 5: Ring of Truth
Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Vertigo (July 13, 2005)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401204872

Y The Last Man vol. 6: Girl on Girl
Paperback: 128 pages
Publisher: Vertigo (November 23, 2005)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401205011

Y The Last Man vol. 7: Paper Dolls
Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Vertigo (May 1, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401210090

(First published 17/01/2007.)

Writer: Grant Morrison
Artist: Philip Bond
Reviewer: Louise

Ali, a young Pakistani lad living in Bradford, is a nervous man. He’s getting married shortly, dreaming about meeting his bride-to-be before the happy event, when suddenly his younger brother vanishes from the family corner shop. Whilst searching, he meets his bride-to-be, Sofia, and the two of them bond during their search. Unfortunately for them, all hell is breaking loose (literally) under the shop, and giants begin rampaging through the cities of Earth. Only the legendary hero Prince Ben Rama can stop them… except that he seems to have fallen for Sofia.

This is an engagingly-different tale of heroism from Grant Morrison. The “different culture” angle is well-handled; Ali and his family are well-written and fully belivable, balancing out the supernatural elements of the story nicely. With some darker themes of death and despair, but scenes of humour and love as well, it’s a good story with nice artwork. Definitely recommended for those tired of tales about men in tights.

Paperback: 104 pages
Publisher: Vertigo (January 1, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN: 1401204961

(First published 17/01/2007.)

Writer: Grant Morrison
Artist:  Various
Reviewer: Louise

The Seven Soldiers of Victory series sees Grant Morrison collect together seven minor DC characters – Zatanna, Klarion the Witch Boy, the Manhattan Guardian, Frankenstein, the Shining Knight, the Bulleteer and Mister Miracle. They may never meet, but unknowingly, they will work together to confront an enemy that threatens all life on earth, and become the Seven Soldiers of Victory.

Seven Soldiers was originally published as a series in which each character’s story was told over four issues, with distinctive artwork for each story. Collecting them together necessarily means that some characters appear only in the first few volumes. Readers may well find that some tales are more gripping than others, depending on their preferred type of story; the obscure and surreal “Klarion” tales contrast highly with the straightforward origin-story and classic superhero-art of the “Bulleteer”. If you are going to read this series, I highly recommend making sure you can obtain all four volumes, as you’ll probably want to go back a few times to retrace some of the earlier stories. A rewarding series for those willing to get into it.
Seven Soldiers of Victory vol 1
Paperback: 211 pages
Publisher: DC Comics (January 4, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401209254

Seven Soldiers of Victory vol 2
Paperback: 176 pages
Publisher: DC Comics (March 22, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401209750

Seven Soldiers of Victory vol 3
Paperback: 176 pages
Publisher: DC Comics (May 31, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401209769

Seven Soldiers of Victory vol 4
Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: DC Comics (January 26, 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401209777

(First published 17/01/2007.)

Writer: Brian Bendis
Artist: Michael Oeming
Reviewer: Louise
The Powers series is a police procedural tale with a difference; it tells the story of the “Powers” department of the NYPD. In a world with super heroes and super villains, the NYPD needs its own section to investigate super-powered crimes. Such as the murder of one of the most popular heroes ever, “Retro Girl”. Detectives Christian Walker and Deena Pilgrim must investigate, whilst at the same time confronting their own dark secrets.

“Who Killed Retro Girl?” is the first in the Powers series. Fittingly, it’s a gripping tale, filled with the familiar tropes of the genre; overbearing superiors, wise forensics experts and two mismatched partners who must overcome their differences. The story is nicely paced and holds the reader’s interest throughout, and the artwork has a slightly rough, gritty appearance, well suited to the plot.

“Legends” is the eighth volume in the series. Walker and Pilgrim are still working together, and their job is harder than ever. The use of superhuman powers has been outlawed, forcing the heroes into retirement. Alas, that hasn’t stopped the villains, leaving the NYPD permanently trying to keep a lid on the city. Until someone with powers, dressed as Retro Girl, takes out several villains. Walker and Pilgrim must track down the new Retro Girl, whilst trying to stay alive.

Legends is another gripping tale. Despite being a considerably later volume in the series, it complements “Who Killed Retro Girl?” well, as it picks up the Retro Girl storyline. The “if you outlaw powers, it doesn’t stop the bad guys using them” theme could have been dealt with a little more subtlety, but it’s another enjoyable read.

Who Killed Retro Girl?
Paperback: 207 pages
Publisher: Image Comics (August 23, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1582406693

Legends
Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Marvel Comics (June 1, 2005)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0785117423

(First published 17/01/2007.)

Writer: Alan Moore
Artists: Zander Cannon, Gene Ha
Reviewer: Louise

Top Ten is Alan Moore having a little fun and playing around with the concept of a world in which everyone has super-powers. The police officers of the Tenth Precinct (known as “Top Ten”) do their best to patrol the city and enforce law and order, whilst also trying to manage their own chaotic personal lives. Oh, and then there’s the Rumour haunting the patrol house…

“Book 2” is a very entertaining, very funny, and in places (notably the “Traffic Duty” storyline), very moving book. Think “Hill Street Blues” or “Law and Order” with superpowers. Highly recommended.

“The Forty-Niners” tells the tale of the founding of the city of Neopolis. Shortly after the end of World War II, the world superpowers agreed to relocate all super-powered individuals to a new world. A super-powered population needs a super-powered police force, and Moore tells the tale of the founding of the Top Ten precinct. Seen mainly through the eyes of the then sixteen-year-old Jetlad (eventually Top Ten’s police captain), it’s a tale of organised crime, racial divisions, coming of age, and super-powered witches on broomsticks. The artwork has a different appearance to that for “Book Two”, with a period feel, and really enhances the story. Also recommended.

Book 2
Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Wildstorm (June 1, 2003)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1563899663

The Forty-Niners
Paperback: 112 pages
Publisher: DC Comics (March 22, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1401205739

(First published 17/01/2007.)

Writer & Artist: Enki Bilal.
Reviewer: Louise

This book collects the short graphic science-fiction stories of French cartoonist and film director Enki Bilal. Dark, surreal and strange, they are difficult to summarise, but certainly leave a lasting impression. The artwork is unlike many others in the American-dominated graphic novels field. An unusual work, but well worth seeking out for those wanting a change from the usual.

Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: DC Comics (May 2005)
Language: English
ISBN: 1401203809

(First published 17/01/2007.)

Author: Ian Edginton

Artist: D’Israeli

Reviewer: Alex
 

Everything is going well for Christopher Grahame: he’s a hugely successful children’s author with a happy family, a new book in the works, and Hollywood queuing up to adapt his stories into films. However, his contented existence is spoiled when he is stricken with
recurring headaches and blackouts.

He experienced these mystery symptoms once before, as a child. That time, whilst recuperating, he dreamt up Castrovalva, a magical fantasy land populated with a menagerie of bizarre friendly creatures, where he imagined all kinds of stories and adventures. Chris’s illness not only makes him think back to that time in his childhood – he actually finds himself transported to Castrovalva during his blackouts. However, what
had once been a happy place is now a war-torn hellhole, scarred by the encroaching forces of ‘the Great Dictator’, an evil new presence in what had originally been Chris’s personal idyll. As Chris tries to keep his sanity, he finds himself drawn into exploring Castrovalva, trying to unravel how and why it reached such a dire state.

It’s a good setup, and although the motif of revisiting childhood fantasy worlds with adult eyes has been used before, it still feels novel and intriguing. Long-standing collaborators Edginton and D’Israeli manage to create three distinct worlds. First, the rounded believability of the real world, giving us a sympathetic protagonist in an interesting
perilous situation. Second, Castrovalva, which in it’s own way is also believable, as a mashed up combination of a spectrum of classic fantasy concepts filtered through a seven-year-old’s imagination. Thirdly, the horrifyingly altered Castrovalva, the innocence and mirth of the original world warped into a desolate wasteland of bloodshed and
nightmares.

D’Israeli’s art is integral to the success of these three tones. The balance between detail and angular stylisation in his line work is effective, but it’s the excellent use of colour which really draws you in, creating mundane reality, bright guileless exuberance and disturbing terror, all very evocatively.

The way the story moves smoothly through the different settings allows it to pull the reader into Chris’s fractured mental state. It’s a fascinating journey and although the book briefly touches on themes of the consequences of war and the unstoppable passage of time, its main function is to be pure engrossing fiction – and it succeeds very well.

Your ultimate opinion of the book may depend to some extent on how you view the plot twist which reveals what’s going on. It’s not something you’re likely to guess in advance; some may find it a little too bizarre, but I found it worked quite naturally within the story, and sent the tale on to a satisfying conclusion.

Overall, this is an intelligent and entertaining genre-bending grown-up fantasy adventure, definitely worth a read.

Hardcover: 120 pages
Publisher: Dark Horse Comics,U.S. (Dec 2004)
Language: English
ISBN: 1593071876

(First published 03/01/2007.)

Author and Artist: J. P. Stassen

Translation: Alexis Siegel

Reviewer: Aaron

In any attempt to relay what Deogratias is about it is necessary to give some back-story to one the worst genocides to occur in the latter half of the Twentieth century, a fact acknowledged in the book’s own introduction.

The Rwandan Genocide took place over the course of 100 days in early 1994, fanned by underlying racial tensions between the majority Hutus and minority Tutsis and sparked by the assassination of the Hutu president, resulting in the deaths of between 800,000 and 1,071,000 Tutsis and any Hutu who attempted to protect them. In this time the U.N did nothing to halt the genocide, even at one point reducing its presence in the country, while two million people were displaced and hundreds of thousands were murdered because of their ethnicity.

Deogratias is the story of a young Hutu caught up in these events, and traces his life before, during and after the Genocide illuminating the build up to and fall out from this terrible event.

We see Deogratias first as a burnt out wreck of a human being, shuffling around his hometown like a ghost in tattered clothing, begging for beer and being the butt of any number of jokes. The story then takes us back into his past and life before the genocide, where we see a portrait of a typical teenage boy, obsessed with girls, drinking and girls. As we skip back and forth through time we are given an insight into the state of the country in this period and are given the chance to get too know the characters before the inevitable tragedy occurs. The story itself is not particularly complex, but it does give the reader an insight into the characters on display and the environment that could breed the violence and hatred that came about.

Deogratias is not a perfect book. The time shifts are at times somewhat confusing, particularly on a first read, with little to differentiate between the time frames. The art will not be to everyone’s taste, and initially it wasn’t too mine, though on reflection I felt that it often enriched the story, particularly in the scene’s depicting Deogratias’ mental state. Also, those hoping for an in-depth look of the politics of Rwanda, of the U.N. ‘s indecision or the broader scope of this tragedy may be left disappointed.

Deogratias is all about the individual’s experience of the genocide, and taken on that level it is a superb book and a harrowing reminder of an event that is repeatedly in danger of being repeated. It never stoops to the level of preaching too the audience, this book simply invites the reader look at the actions of this individual caught in the tide, and the consequences visited upon him.

It is a very important book that along with the likes of Maus and the works of individuals such as Joe Sacco continues to challenge the subject matter that can be tackled in the comic medium. Emotional, compassionate and very human, Deogratias is an excellent comic that is not easily forgotten.

Paperback: 96 pages Full Colour

Publisher: First Second Books

Language: English

ISBN: 1-59643-103-2
 

(First published 11/01/2007.)

Writer and Artist: Brian Fies
Reviewer: Jean.

“Mom’s Cancer” does what it says on the tin.

When Brian Fies’s mother was diagnosed with lung cancer, one of the ways he handled it was by writing a diary, and he wrote it in the form of a web comic. It chronicles the details of having – and being treated for – cancer: the emotional stress within the family (“We’re glad Nurse Sis is on our side”, he remarks ruefully), the uncertainty about how far Mom is
aware of the seriousness of her condition (and how far any lack of awareness is part of her way of coping), the feeling that doctors and patients are speaking different languages… Unusually for the US, the one concern that isn’t mentioned is finance: Mom gets the best treatment available.

And there’s a happy ending, too, up to a point. Fies cannot have known, as he was drawing the strips, that his mother’s illness would take the turn that it did, and it would be cynical to suggest that this made the book as a whole more marketable, but some of the particular charm of the book does come from the shape of the story, the upbeat ending and the final twist.

It’s a nice little book as a physical object, published in a landscape format which retains the proportions of the computer screen. The publisher is so much not a comics company that they don’t even use the word: Abrams Image is “an exciting new line of visual books for readers of all ages…” (If they were aiming at a comics-aware audience, they probably wouldn’t have stamped “Image” on the spine).

It’s a sweet, likeable book, but its substance derives from the subject matter rather than the way it is treated: it tells its story simply, and there’s little in that telling that is particularly memorable.

Paperback: 128 pages
Publisher: Harry N. Abrams, Inc. (31 Mar 2006)
Language: English
ISBN: 0810958406

(First published 07/11/2006.)

Writer and Artist: Eddie Campbell.
Reviewer: Jean Rogers

It’s over twenty years since Escape Publishing brought out the first collection of Eddie Campbell’s autobiographical strips, in which he appears thinly disguised as Alec MacGarry. Since then he has married, moved to Australia, collaborated with Alan Moore on the monumental “From Hell”, gone into self-publishing, moved out of self-publishing, and continued to chronicle his own life. Volume followed volume, until narrative caught up with history, and “How to be an Artist” included an account of how the first Alec collections came to be published.

So it’s no surprise that he has finally vanished up his own autobiography: Eddie Campbell barely appears in this book, and his alter ego Alec MacGarry appears not at all. But this is the man who once published a magazine called “Egomania” – the artist may have gone missing, but that’s all the more reason why the whole book is about him.

“The Fate of the Artist” is presented as a detective story: Eddie Campbell has mysteriously vanished, and a detective has been called in to find him. To do so, he scrutinises the artist’s papers, cross-examines his family and discusses him with an art historian. There are the usual scenes from daily life, but with a twist: where once Campbell’s anecdotes were performed by himself and his friends, under false names, now the names used are real, but the parts are (allegedly) played by actors.

Except, of course, that this is not a play or a film, but a comic: these are not actors, but drawings, and they have been drawn (and coloured, and lettered) by Eddie Campbell. The painstaking pastiches of newspaper strips are by Eddie Campbell. The photographs are by Eddie Campbell, and so is the eccentric typesetting. Far from having vanished, he is omnipresent. Every page of the book underlines that the whole book is a very elaborate joke: funny stories about Eddie Campbell are told in a variety of humorous ways, and the whole structure of the book is just one more joke.

It’s beautifully done: the book itself is a very satisfying object, the alternation of wonky typesetting and hand-lettering is a pleasure to read, every detail is consistent, down to the author photo on the inside back flap (the relationship between front and back cover is possibly my favourite joke in the whole book).

Yet, at the same time as being very funny, “The Fate of the Artist” is entirely serious about art, and the effect it has on the artist’s life (or perhaps about the life of the artist, and the effect it has on his art). The closest this comes to the surface is in the final section, an adaptation of O. Henry’s story “The Confessions of a Humorist”, in which Eddie Campbell plays ventriloquist once more, casting himself in the role of the narrator.
This is just one more twist in a book that’s all turns and reversals, never entirely serious and never entirely a joke. If there’s slightly less to it than meets the eye, what meets the eye is entirely entertaining. One last word of advice, though: new readers, don’t start here. There’s a lot to be said for chronological order.
Paperback: 96 pages
Publisher: Roaring Brook P. (2 May 2006)
Language English
ISBN: 1596431334

(First published 26/09/2006.)

Writer and Artist: Lewis Trondheim
Reviewer: Alex

¦lt;br /> You know that feeling you get when experiencing a foreign culture? When visiting another country, or just watching/reading a foreign film/book/comic, and something is just intrinsically different? Little things like what they eat for breakfast, or how they don’t use three-act pacing, or where they draw the lines between ‘rude’ and ‘socially acceptable’? Well, that’s exactly that sensation that Trondheim has tried to capture in this book, except on a much grander scale.

A.L.I.E.E.E.N. (or ‘Archives of Lost Issues and Earthly Editions of Extraterrestrial Novelties’ to give it its full English title) is presented as something which Trondheim ‘found’ amid extraterrestrial debris whilst out hiking with his family – a comic left by some visiting alien. A lot of effort has gone into keeping this conceit up. For example: all the speech bubbles (and the cover ‘review quotes’!) are in an ‘alien language’, the colour is printed slightly blotchily to give it the look of old newspaper stock, and the pages have been made to look slightly grimy around the edges.

It’s almost impossible to give an accurate precis of the storyline, suffice to say that there are assorted alien creatures and weird stuff occurs, varying from gentle oddness to macabre humour to slightly disturbing menace. It’s told from several characters’ perspectives, with the interlocking stories gradually building up a more complete picture of what is going on.

Of course, you can take the book on its most simple level and appreciate it just as a weird little comedy – Trondheim’s accessible cartoony (slightly cutesy, even) art style certainly allows the book to be read this way. However, if you are prepared to put in just a little more effort, you can take an awful lot more from this book.

Some ‘alternative’ comics (and such works in other media) seem to think that if a story is hard to understand then it must be clever and ‘arty’. A.L.I.E.E.E.N. is very distinct from the pretentiousness of such lesser works, in that Trondheim’s art and narrative is clear – the basic series of strange events are comprehensible, but it is left to the reader to ponder the causes, the details, the motivations that underpin them. Although the presentation (the colour, the ‘grime’ and so on) aids the tone of the book, it is Trondheim’s skill and inventiveness as a visual storyteller that makes it succeed in its purpose: to seem truly alien. It’s not simply ‘weird’, more like ‘foreign’ taken to an extreme – the story may not make complete sense to the reader, but it does come across that it makes sense within it’s own alien world.

The use of the ‘alien language’ is a perfect example of the tone of the book. It’s not just random squiggles, and neither is it something as simple as “this squiggle means ‘A’, this squiggle means ‘B'”. Rather, you begin to notice that a certain squiggle seems to be associated with shock, another with querying, and you get the idea that if you studied carefully, you’d gradually build up an idea of their language.

Just as after exposure to foreign human cultures, initial shock and bewilderment at differences is gradually replaced by recognition of underlying similarities. Particularly upon re-reading, you begin to get a handle on what’s going on, ascribing human emotional states and sophisticated extended metaphors to the characters and situations. Each reading provides further potential insights, but you can never be certain – understanding remains tantalisingly out of reach. That’s why this book feels like such a breath of fresh air.

Some graphic novels (From Hell is the example which always springs readily to mind) demand attention simply by being huge and intricately researched; yet in some ways, this strange little book is more thought-provoking – if you are in the mood to have your thoughts provoked. There really isn’t anything else quite like it.

Paperback: 96 pages
Publisher: First Second (2 May 2006)
Language: English
ISBN: 1596430958

(First published 06/11/2006.)

Writer: Mike Carey.
Artists: Sonny Liew (penciller), Marc Hempel (inker).
Reviewer: Pauline

While looking through the bookshelves the cover of ‘My Faith In Frankie’ stood out as one of the girliest cover I’ve ever seen. I picked it up with some curiosity. While you are not supposed to judge a book by it’s cover, I can’t resist bright orange, and this was definitely not of the usual super hero ilk. It does have cutesy sort of look too, and I decided to have a look at it partly for the afore mentioned curiosity, and partly because it was small enough (at the size of a medium text paperback) to fit in my bag.

The cover is the end of colour, and the whole book is monochrome. The story doesn’t suffer because of this, the drawing and the arrangements of the frames are varied and there is plenty to keep the eye occupied. We are introduced to Frankie as a pretty teenager, (big eyed, high cheek boned, snub nosed) trying to get frisky in a car with her date, and has some very odd and amusing diversions that prevent the young couple from getting anything further than a kiss. It turns out that this is not an isolated incident and that Frankie has had bizarre events happen every time she tries to get involved with boys.

My original misgivings about the cutesy impression I had were soon forgotten, as a couple of pages in, I realised I was absorbed and happily in page turning mode. This is mostly because the one defining quality of this book is it’s playfulness. You find out that the reason for the strange interruptions she has with boys are down to a jealous god- or more specifically her very own jealous godling Jeriven. There are also tales of childhood from her friend Kay, which let the circumstances gradually unfold as to how Frankie has had the gifted life she has. From Kay’s point of view there has always been consternation and unwilling admiration of Frankie’s life.

The culmination of the drama happens because of a big clash between godling and a heart throb who is someone Frankie and Kay knew from being in a very traumatic event when they were children. This turns into a struggle between good and evil with a splendid love triangle twist.

The only real fault I would pick, is that once or twice it is difficult to see all the detail of the drawing as you can’t flatten the book and sometimes you want to see are where the pages join together.

At the end, after Frankie’s story, there are some further sketches by Sonny Liew and a preview of the Dead Boys Detective Agency. Neither of these look great in themselves, but I reckon it is always interesting to have a glimpse at things before they reach the refined finished state.

Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Macmillan Children’s (2 Jun 2006)
Language: English
ISBN: 1596430931

(First published 06/09/2006.)

Writer and Artist: Dave Gibbons.
Reviewer: Louise

The Originals is Dave Gibbons’ re-telling of the feuds between Mods and Rockers in the 1960s, including the Brighton clash made famous by Quadrophenia. Since it’s a graphic novel, some details have been changed; the Rockers have become “The Dirt”, people ride “hovers”, not bikes, and the Mods have become “The Originals”. Gibbons tells the tale of Lem, a young wannabe Original, who joins a gang with his best friend Bok, and soon finds himself in way over his head.

Okay, so here’s the thing. If I say to you that the plot is “young man in the process of growing up joins a gang”, what would you predict would happen? It would be something like: “After initial wariness, the gang accepts him. He finds himself enjoying the status, violence and drugs, and loving the gang life. Then he meets a girl, whilst at the same time, things quickly get violent and turn from fun to dangerous. Someone gets badly hurt / killed, and our hero must decide whether to become a fully paid-up gangster, or opt for true love, renounce violence, turn away from the gang and walk his own path”.

Well, if you predicted that for The Originals, you’d be right, and for me this is the book’s fatal flaw. It’s beautifully drawn, but the plot feels familiar from the get-go. (Not surprising; Shakespeare used the same plot four hundred years ago, except then they were called Montagues and Capulets). Lem isn’t a totally unsympathetic hero, but he’s so unreflective it’s difficult to empathise with him as he throws himself into gang life with nary a thought for the consequences. Yes, he falls for a girl, yes, he does grow a bit as a character, but that’s not hard to do when your original character is “stock disaffected teenage hero”.

In many ways, I was disappointed because to me, Lem’s story is the least interesting of the ones Gibbons could have chosen to tell. For example, in 1960s Britain, what is life like for Lem’s girlfriend Viv, who displays formidable intelligence, courage and, unlike Lem, a strong sense of right and wrong? What’s it like to be a woman Original, or a female member of the Dirt (or, more realistically, an Original or Dirt’s girlfriend?).

Or, alternatively, Lem’s best friend, Bok, is black. I wasn’t around in the 1960s but somehow I can’t help but wonder if a white gang would have been so colour-blind as the Originals are shown to be. Heck, gang-related racial violence is still happening today. What’s it like for Bok, trying to be a member of a gang whose face will always be different to the others’? Given that the 1960s were a period of huge change in the status of women and ethnic minorities in British society, for me it’s annoying that Gibbons chose not to tell their stories and opted instead for a plot that’s been done to death.

Another thing I found disappointing is that the retelling and sci-fi elements don’t add anything interesting. When we first see the Originals mounted on their hovers, it’s a stunning piece of artwork. I was hoping that the use of science fiction type “hovers”, not mundane bikes, presaged a world in which the familiar would have interesting differences. If this is a parallel world to ours, what else is different? How did this society develop? What are the implications if it has this technology? As it happens, I was barking up the wrong tree. The only reason the Originals and the Dirt have hovers, not bikes, is so that Gibbons didn’t have to draw lots of wheels and it looks cool.

Did I hate it? No – I quite enjoyed it as a fun read – but I was annoyed with it in the way that you are when you read something and think “This is great, but it could have been so much better”.

Hardcover: 160 pages
Publisher: Titan Books Ltd (26 Nov 2004)
Language: English
ISBN: 1840236965

(First published 27/07/2006.)

Writer: Lewis Trondheim.
Artist: Joann Sfar
Reviewer: Alex

The concept of a huge labyrinthine dungeon, filled with a fearsome menagerie of vile monsters guarding priceless treasures which assorted heroes continually attempt to liberate, will be familiar to anyone versed in Fantasy genre tropes (particularly anyone who’s played the ‘Dungeon Keeper’ computer games). This setting is the starting point for Dungeon, from where Sfar and Trondheim launch a very funny and highly imaginative adventure story.

Despite its sprawling size, the Dungeon is well-organised under the control of the Dungeon Master, a cunning bird (all the non-monstrous cast are anthropomorphic animals) who runs the Dungeon efficiently. However, this state of affairs is threatened by some mysterious new monsters wanting to take over the Dungeon. A plan is made to counter this threat; unfortunately, clerical minion Herbert (a timorous anthropomorphic duck) makes an administrative error that results in responsibility for defeating the monsters falling to him. Being largely unheroic, Herbert is not suited to the task, but gets assistance from Marvin (a vegetarian dragon warrior). Thus, in classic style, they set off on a saga of exciting, if somewhat surreal, adventures…

What makes Dungeon such a pleasure to read is the fact that although Sfar and Trondheim touch on many of the familiar cliche of the Fantasy genre (and usually poke a bit of fun at them), Dungeon is not a spoof. It certainly has gags and numerous moments of comedy, but it works as a genuine adventure story, with a real sense of the fantastical as well as the absurd. Similarly, although the notions of the ‘unlikely hero’ and ‘mismatched buddies’, are very familiar, the characters of Herbert and Marvin feel fresh. Herbert (out of his depth but gradually growing in confidence) and Marvin (genuinely tough but principled) work well as a pairing and a focus for the story, and even amongst the bizarre creatures and daft jokes, there is room for some engaging character development.

At first glance, the cartoonish art might look (deceptively) a little unsophisticated. However, on closer inspection, it’s actually rather detailed, and, combined with an excellent colouring job, really brings the outlandish characters and locations to life. Furthermore, it’s the use of the cartoon style that allows the instances of violence and horror to be treated with a light comedic touch, which makes for some excellent moments of macabre hilarity and perfectly suits the tone of the story.

If you like a bit of the Tolkien malarkey but are looking for something a bit different, or alternatively, if you’re fond of indie comedy comics but secretly want something with goblin hordes in, then in either case, try Dungeon.

Paperback: 96 pages
Publisher: NBM Publishing Company (1 Nov 2004)
Language: English
ISBN: 1561634018

(First published 27/07/2006.)

Writers and Artists: Jonathan and Joshua Luna.
Reviewer: Jean

There is a slightly odd genre of comics – a sort of female “buddy movie” – by men, but about women. From Love and Rockets or Strangers in Paradise to Private Beach or the late, lamented Sleaze Castle, these focus on strong female characters, having love affairs but also getting on with their lives. The concept is always slightly creepy, but at best the stories and characters are good enough to make you forget that.

Ultra isn’t quite at the “at best” level. It concerns three attractive, successful young women, who happen to be superheros, in a society much like our own, except that it takes the existence of superpowers in its stride, and gives superheroes the same treatment as any other celebrities. There’s a clever idea here, and in the original edition, the individual comics had covers designed to look like celebrity magazines, which is ingenious and entertaining. But that’s as far as it goes – what could have been a thoughtful riff on celebrity culture, with its streak of prurience and envy, turns out to have its own voyeuristic streak.

Paradoxically, this is more of a problem than it would have been if the comic had been less good: but the three central characters are well-drawn, and endearing, and I found myself caring enough about Pearl (the eponymous Ultra) to want to defend her against her creators. I resented, on her behalf, the necessities of plot which drive her, after some five years of celibacy since the collapse of a serious relationship, to fall headlong into an ill-advised affair, just to enable the story to go where it’s supposed to.

But just as Ultra isn’t a searching sociological analysis, so it isn’t a subtle piece of character creation; it’s a slick piece of story telling, a? cross between a standard superhero story and a standard soap opera romance. Still, it isn’t every day you find one of those, and if you can relax and enjoy it for what it is, it’s an entertaining piece of froth with a lot of charm.

Paperback: 232 pages
Publisher: Image Comics (4 May 2005)
Language: English
ISBN: 1582404836

(First published 27/07/2006.)

Writer: Brian K. Vaughan.
Artist: Pia Guerra.
Reviewer: Louise

Y: The Last Man starts with an interesting premise. A mysterious plague kills every male mammal on Earth, creating a world populated only by women – except for a twentysomething escape artist, Yorick Brown, and his pet monkey, Ampersand. At the time the plague hit, Yorick had just proposed by cellphone to his girlfriend, Beth, who happens to be travelling in the Australian outback. This book, the first in the series, deals with the beginning of both Yorick’s quest to be reunited with her, and the search to find out what happened and why.

This is a very original premise, but it could have been done so much better. For me, the most glaring example of this is in the opening pages. If you read the hype about this series, you open the book expecting a comic with something genuinely new to say, taking advantage of its gripping premise to explore gender issues in graphic form.

Then you read the first few pages, and find that a lot of the art depicts a nubile young woman in a bikini. (Beth apparently hasn’t read the Australian Tourism Board’s warnings about how it’s a good idea to cover up from the sun if you don’t want to die an untimely death from skin cancer.)

Not impressive, guys. And it continues. We’re meant to sympathise with Yorick and his heroic quest to find his lost girlfriend, marry her and have babies, and indeed his general determination not to be used as a walking sperm bank. Except that in the context of the situation he’s in, it comes off as less romantic than stupid; he’s the last human male on Earth, the best chance anyone has of reproducing and continuing the survival of the species.

Okay, it wouldn’t be a very interesting story if he simply stayed in the White House and got on with impregnating women. But the fact that his mother (who’s also the President – don’t ask, it’s a long story) simply lets him walk off with one bodyguard without the issue of whether he’s so important he actually shouldn’t be allowed to do whatever he wants even being raised is pretty sloppy.

Likewise the Amazons (sigh). These are that old staple of post-apocalyptic literature, the mad biker gang out for world domination, led by a charismatic leader. Mad Max anyone? Since this is a female-only society, they’re a bunch of radical feminists who believe the plague was a blessing, and who are busy trashing memorials to the dead men, burning down sperm banks, and removing their left breasts as a sign of gang membership.

Needless to say, they’re out to kill Yorick, seeing him as the last of their oppressors. Victoria, their leader, is fond of ordering her followers to shoot people, then murmuring: “Believe me, I despise barking orders like a patriarch.” Yes, we get it; women too can be manipulative power-hungry dictators. It would be much more effective, however, if the writers trusted us to be smart enough to figure out the contradiction between Victoria’s belief that male-dominated societies have oppressed women for hundreds of years and her authoritarian, patriarchal approach to leadership, without feeling the need to spell it out for us in such a clunky fashion.

It doesn’t exactly fill you with confidence that the rest of the series is going to deal with the issues raised by its premise with anything approaching sensitivity or thoughtfulness. The action in this book is set in America; personally, I’d have been very interested to see how women in patriarchal, oppressive societies were dealing with the deaths of their oppressors. Instead, it’s more like “The men have died! Society has fallen to bits! But one man and his quest will save us all!”

Perhaps I’m being a little harsh here; it’s an interesting read; quest stories usually are, and the plot does rattle along quite quickly. Also, this is the first volume, and is necessarily hampered by having to set up the plot and get the exposition out of the way. Having read it, I would read the following volumes in the series. I just wouldn’t expect them to contain anything very deep.

Paperback: 128 pages
Publisher: Titan Books Ltd (24 Jul 2003)
Language English
ISBN: 1840237082

(First published 27/07/2006.)

Writer and Artist: Derek Kirk Kim.
Reviewer: Alex

There is a slight propensity with a certain kind of indie comic, usually by young male creators, to overdo semi-autobiographical guff on themes of self-analysis, existentialist ennui and how hard it is to begin and sustain romantic relationships. Same Difference and Other Stories could, in this regard, be considered run of the mill, being an indie comic by a young male creator, touching (semi-autobiographically) on themes of self-analysis, existentialist ennui, and how hard it is to begin and sustain romantic relationships.

However, it does this with such subtlety, humour and truth that it not only carves out a space for itself amongst other such stories, but stands as a refreshing piece of sequential art fiction, transcending genre categorisation.

There are two distinct elements of this book: Same Difference (the main story, occupying nearly two-thirds of the book’s 140-odd pages) and the Other Stories (the rest of the book: an assortment of varied short pieces), and it makes sense to appraise them separately.

Same Difference follows Simon and Nancy, a pair of mid-twenty-something friends, as they take a little excursion back to Simon’s hometown. This involves almost zero action or high drama, but a lot of cod-philosophical banter and musings about mistakes made at high school (and since). Kim’s excellent dialogue and expressive art (fairly realistic but with a slight manga influence) work perfectly; he’s equally adept at both extensive conversation sequences, and silent sequences where volumes are spoken only in the characters’ facial expressions. Thanks to this storytelling talent, the characters come across as rounded and believable, and the story flows smoothly.

If you’ve read books like Dan Clowes’ Ghost World and appreciated the directionlessness, but wished the characters would just get a bit of perspective and stop being quite so whiny and hard to empathise with, then you’re likely to enjoy Same Difference. Although Simon and Nancy are (just a little) flawed and self-absorbed, that’s part of what makes them realistic and engaging. Through the story, they each atone for a past immaturity and there’s a definite – but not overpowering – sense of a progression and development in their characters. There are moments of emotional eloquence and philosophising around the subject of getting older and maturer, but there’s always some humorous self-deprecation or pop-cultural observation to undercut any potential pretentiousness.

The Other Stories are a fine accompaniment to the main event. They vary from understated straight narratives to comedy rants on subjects including being suicidally single and toilets. They all ‘work’ as strips, and the humour, which varies from sophisticated to quite crude (in the same strip!), is often amusing (particularly the ‘Oliver Pikk’ strips).

Several of the Other Stories are classed as ‘autobiographical’, but the believability and empathisability in the non-autobiographical material suggests that much of that too is partially based on Kim’s personal experience. For example, in Same Difference itself, Simon is a twenty-something Korean American living in the San Francisco Bay Area – just like Kim; although the story’s fictional, it feels like there’s a lot of the author in the character (and it’s all the better for that).

Perhaps to get maximum resonance from the book, you do need to be a twenty-something coming to terms with life, but if you ever were one (or are about to become one) then I’m sure you’ll find much to appreciate in Same Difference and Other Stories.

Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Top Shelf Productions Inc. (Sep 2004)
Language: English
ISBN: 1891830570

(First published 27/07/2006.)

Writers and Artists: Bengal, Bill Mudron, Catia Chien, Clio Chiang, Chris Appelhans, Derek Kirk Kim, Dylan Meconis, Enrico Casarosa, Erika Moen, Hope Larson.

Reviewer: Alex

When it was released in summer 2004, Flight seemed highly symbolic of the change that had occurred in Image comics. Although Image had been set up over a decade previously by renegades from the ‘big two’ (Marvel & DC) with noble ideals of creative freedom and creator-owned titles, through the 90’s the publisher had become almost synonymous with rubbish X-Men rip-offs (epitomised by Rob Liefeld’s Youngblood) and the Top Cow imprint’s scantily clad babe (Witchblade, Tomb Raider etc.) drivel.

However, change was in the air, and a much more open and experimental policy was allowing aspiring new creators to get interesting books out with good production quality and maybe even a bit of promotion. Flight, a full-colour anthology of short pieces (loosely ‘flight’-themed) by mostly unknown, mostly young artists with backgrounds mostly in animation or webcomics, is almost the antithesis of the ‘old Image’, but it got a great industry buzz and was well received, perhaps vindicating the change in direction.

But is it any good? The answer probably depends on what you’re looking for. There can be no argument that this is a beautiful book to look at. There is a broad spectrum of art on display, mostly with some cartoony element, but also ranging to more realistic or slightly experimental styles. It’s all very pleasing to the eye, thanks in large part to the excellent use of colour throughout, which boosts each story’s thematic tone and gives the book a real sense of vitality. The content of the stories is as varied as the art, with a little of all kinds: humour, action/adventure, allegory, drama, visual poetics. As with any anthology, some appeal more than others, but the standard is high and all are readable and enjoyable.

However, with an average length of about eight pages, there’s only so much that can be crammed in to each story, particularly when many of them favour a partly or even completely wordless approach. For some people, the book will just not be substantial enough, lacking sufficient narrative meat to satisfy their hunger for plot and layered characterisation; such readers would probably be best off with a more sizeable metaphorical meal (maybe that big ‘bleu’ steak From Hell). If on the other hand, you are looking for a mixed bag of sweets, each vibrantly flavoured, then Flight is for you! It’s great for dipping into, even if you’ve already read it, just to appreciate the art or maybe pick up on a nuance you hadn’t noticed before.

With a second volume already out and a third due in summer 2006 (although this time not from Image), there’s evidently appetite for this kind of tasty treat!

Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Image Comics (11 Aug 2004)
Language: English
ISBN: 1582403813

(First published 27/07/2006.)

Writer and Artist: Andy Runton.
Reviewer: Alex

Owly, as the name suggests, follows the exploits of an owl: a cute, semi-anthropomorphic owl whose exploits consist of wandering about in the forest, planting flowers, feeding birds, and so on.

Probably the most significant descriptor of this book is the ‘all-ages’ tag it wears with pride. Runton’s artwork is beautifully cartoony and although words are used (in sound effects and signs), all the ‘speech’ is handled by pictures in word bubbles (plus judicious use of question/exclamation marks). I’m sure that with parental assistance, very young children could enjoy the two gentle tales contained in this book.

The curse of some other ‘all-ages’ material is that while it might appeal to young readers, it lacks the depth to appeal to adults. Whilst Owly is never going to be a deeply socio-philosophical chin-scratcher, it does provide some depth for adult readers to engage with. Runton explores themes of loneliness and friendship quite evocatively (if a little simplistically) as Owly – a lonely bird, feared by many other forest creatures – tries to make friends with a worm and help out some hummingbirds. Although the art and story could both be described as ‘sweet’ (the ahhh-factor is fairly high), it’s finely judged enough so that it never becomes sickly saccharine.

Also interesting and quite endearing is Runton’s close attention to ornithological and botanical detail; for example: Owly finding out which particular kind of plants are favoured by hummingbirds, and where it’s best to plant them (‘Salvia’, full sun / partial shade, if you were wondering).

The combination of scientific detail and anthropomorphic emotion can initially seem somewhat discordant, perhaps most strikingly, the representation of Owly as a kind-hearted bumbling creature instead of the effective nocturnal predator that owls are in reality. Owls have often been used to signify wisdom, magic or malevolence, but here, Runton uses Owly as a very human perspective, examining our uneasy relationship with nature. At the same time though, the clever avoidance of using human speech, means that the characters always remain in the natural world, and don’t become merely some Disney-esque ‘animal-shaped humans’.

The subsequent (currently two) books in the series develop the wider plot a little and expand on the basic premise, but there’s no real ongoing story here. It’s just a nice book, looks cute, warms your heart a little, and makes you want to get out and do a bit of gardening.

Now, where’s my trowel?

Paperback: 160 pages
Publisher: Top Shelf Productions Inc. (Sep 2004)
Language: English
ISBN: 1891830627

(First published 27/07/2006.)

Writer: Max Allan Collins.
Artists: Gabriel Rodriguez, Ashley Wood.
Reviewer: Louise

A graphic novel which collects the limited series comic book based on the popular TV series, we read this as a follow-up to From Hell. The plot is relatively simple: someone is recreating the “Jack the Ripper” killings in Las Vegas, and the CSI team of forensic investigators must track him down before he kills again.

Whilst not in the same league as From Hell, we agreed that this was certainly an interesting read, although whether people enjoyed it tended to depend on whether they were already fans of the TV series. Those who were fans felt that it did generally replicate the format of the TV series very well. There was some debate over whether graphic novels based on TV series and films should seek to do this, or whether they should seek to be more adventurous and try to show what can be achieved within the graphic novel medium, rather than trying to replicate TV on the printed page.

The general consensus was reached that unfortunately, market forces rather than artistic impulses will probably be the deciding factor in that respect. It’s fair to say that if you enjoy the TV series, you’ll like the book. If you haven’t seen the TV series and are looking for an introduction, or are just looking for a relatively light read in the shape of a detective story, you could do worse; it’s well drawn and the story is interesting.

Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Titan Books Ltd (23 Jan 2004)
Language: English
ISBN: 1840237716

(First published 26/07/2006.)

Writer: Alan Moore.
Artist: Eddie Campbell.
Reviewer: Louise

Another Alan Moore masterwork, this time with black and white art from the very accomplished Eddie Campbell. From Hell: Being a Melodrama in Sixteen Parts focusses on the “Jack the Ripper” killings from the starting point “What if every theory about the Whitechapel murders was true?”, and throws in every reference from the time period in question that Moore and Campbell can possibly think of. Thus, Oscar Wilde, Karl Marx, Joseph Merrick (the ‘Elephant Man’) and Queen Victoria rub shoulders with the five working-class victims, the dogged police inspector, Fred Abberline, and of course, the killer himself.

Whilst it’s not quite right to say we enjoyed this book (Chapter 10, focussing on the killing and mutilation of Mary Kelly, should not be read after eating or by those with weak stomachs) we generally all agreed that it’s a truly remarkable graphic novel. In particular, the artwork is both of a high quality and appropriate for the subject matter. The story itself is gripping and fascinating. We come to care for the Whitechapel killer’s victims despite knowing their fate, as Moore presents them as “ordinary working class women trying to do the best they could with the circumstances they found themselves in”.

What’s particularly interesting about the graphic novel edition of From Hell is the two appendices. The first is essentially a full set of footnotes on each chapter, containing references, obscure phrases and Moore’s own wry comments. I particularly liked the one which ends “Appararently this omen will foretell a revolution in Britain and the end of the monarchy. Alas, no such luck as of the present time”.

The second, “Dance of the Gull-Catchers” is a potted history in comic-strip format of “Ripperology”, in which Moore questions our fascination with Jack the Ripper and serial killers in general, implying that the desperate circumstances in which the killer’s victims lived still exist today. Depicting a stripper dancing in the Ten Bells pub in Whitechapel, Moore comments: “This, of course, is the only real dance going on, and always has been. Money dance. Need dance. Poverty dance”. In my opinion, From Hell takes its place alongside Maus and Persepolis as examples of good, even great, literature, created in the medium of graphic novels.

Paperback: 576 pages
Publisher: Knockabout Comics (30 Oct 2006)
Language: English
ISBN: 0861661419

(First published 26/07/2006.)

Authors: Devin K. Grayson, Phil Jimenez

Superhero comics are odd artifacts, filled with colourful pictures of over-proportioned women and men wearing skin hugging pajama suits and domino masks; a kind of fetishistic pillow fight romp. This example, by creative team Devin Grayson, Phil Jiminez, et al., tells an intergenerational tale, bringing together the young and the old in the form of crimefighting youngsters The Titans, and their mentors, The Justice League of America.

The two teams are plunged into a global-scale catastrophe as an alien supercomputer from outer space invades the Moon, and begins to kidnap Titans from the Earth. Superman, Batman and the gang get together to rescue the kids, and in true crossover-somic style, its not long before both teams are smashing seven shades of hell out of eachother, before teaming up to unite against the common threat.

Unfortunately, the plan of the villain to collect and catalogue all former members of The Titans means an endless rollcall of second rate forgettable spandex-wearers stomping through the pages in overdone poses. Perhaps the biggest casuality of this is the pacing, disturbed by too many jumps between the various heroes, many of whom will be unfamiliar to all but the most ardent fanboy.

Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: DC Comics (Nov 1999)
Language: English
ISBN: 1563895633

(First published 10/07/2006.)

Writer: Alan Moore.
Artist: J.H. Williams III.
Reviewer: Ronan

The magic in Promethea is no poncy middle-class Hogwarts magic, this is proper manly conjuring of demons and stuff, all centred on this one figure of Promethea. Some say that she’s the Harlot of Revelations, come to usher in the overdue Apocalypse and put an end to all that human stupidity and suffering. In other guises, she’s a little orphaned girl adopted by her father’s gods, Thoth-Hermes, who take her to live in the Immateria, land of stories.

In this comic, she’s a college student who stumbles into the role of Promethea while following a trail of academic references for her class paper. By the end of issue one, Sophie Bangs can transform herself into the goddess of imagination with her adolescent poetry.

Reading this comic will take you into a futuristic New York, where the yellow cabs have no wheels and hover amidst candy coloured billboards selling flesh and cola. It will take you up to Heaven via the Kaballistic tree of life, and bring you back down again for tea. It will transport you to the Immateria, where ideas take on visual shape and form. It will spell out tantric principles to you with better illustrations than the Karma Sutra.

If you love exploring new ideas this book will blow you away, because it’s full of them. There’s nothing better than this around at the moment; It’s profound, it’s mint, it’s got lots of girls in armour in it. Why aren’t you reading it?

(Promethea is published in five volumes. We read the first, and many of us just kept on reading!)

Paperback: 160 pages
Publisher: DC Comics (Jul 2001)
Language: English
ISBN: 1563896672

(First published 26/07/2006.)

Writer & Artist: Ross Campbell

Reviewer: Louise

Amazon’s website summarises the plot of Wet Moon as: “An unusually usual day-to-day story in the Deep South, set in the gothic, swampy southern town of Wet Moon, a place fraught with lousy love lives, teen angst, and shadowy rednecks. As Cleo Lovedrop heads off for college at the local art school, she’s haunted by her melancholic past…”
Wet Moon really isn’t like many other comics out there; probably the closest comparison is Daniel Clowes’ Ghost World. As a picture of teenage Goth life in the Deep South, it’s a world away from men in tights or shadowy government conspiracies. Certainly anyone who’s ever been to college or university will wince in recognition at the “my roommate keeps eating my soup and won’t own up” chapter, and the way in which Cleo struggles to have any sort of meaningful communication with her new roommates.

Campbell’s art and eye for detail is striking. Shy, nervous, overweight Cleo is a protagonist unlike any other (name me another comic with a plump female Goth having a cigarette on the front cover), but Campbell really brings her and her friends to life, capturing all their different expressions and even the different ways they walk and move around, which is a trick surprisingly few artists can manage. The different Goth fashions sported by the lead characters are also pretty original and quite convincing.

So, what’s wrong with it? Well… one member of the Graphic Novels group acerbically remarked that “feeble wanderings” just about sums up the plot. Cleo tries to get ready for college, hangs around aimlessly with her friends, can’t talk to the guy she fancies, and that’s about it, which is a pretty slim plot to carry you through 184 pages.

Annoyingly, there are the outlines of a more sinister (and interesting) story buried within the book. Who keeps posting up the “Cleo eats it” posters around town? What illness does Cleo suffer from, that causes her to have to take pills and be sick occasionally? Who is Fern, the mysterious and deformed Goth girl who seems to be taking a interest in Cleo and her friends? What happened to the former occupant of Cleo’s dorm room, who vanished mysteriously leaving a large stain behind on the floor? Who are the sinister father and daughter living in a house out in the swamps?

Unfortunately, by the end of the book we still haven’t found out. Personally, I will be looking for volume two to resolve these questions – the art is certainly worth another look – but it’s understandable that by the end of this volume, several readers decided it wasn’t worth the effort. A little more plot development would have pushed this in the “good read” category. As it is, it’s certainly worth checking out, but more for the art than the story.

(First published 26/07/2006.)

Writer and Artist: Joann Sfar
Reviewer: Jean

“Vampire Loves” gathers together four episodes of Joann Sfar’s “Grand Vampire”, in a translation which is credited to the publisher, rather than to any individual. Ferdinand the Vampire is quiet and home-loving. He has old-fashioned tastes in music. He has split up with his girlfriend, who appears to be some kind of tree, and when she comes round to patch things up, they only start to argue. So he is looking for love, but the problem is that he’s never interested in the girls who are interested in him.

So in the first story he meets a teenaged Goth girl called Aspirine – and since she is a vampire too, and vampires never age, she is condemned to be a teenager forever. She doesn’t like Ferdinand’s taste in music (and among all the quirky details in the narrative, one of the weirdest is the record he plays her, about two snails going to a funeral, which turns out not to be something that Sfar has made up, after all, but a genuine poem.) Nevertheless, she loves him. Naturally, he prefers her elder sister, Ritaline.

In the second story, Ferdinand has met another girl, a tourist who has stayed in the Louvre art gallery after closing time, to see the Mona Lisa. But the Mona Lisa isn’t there, because at night the people in the paintings sleep, while the Egyptian mummies wake up and dance. Ferdinand is holidaying in the Louvre, because the paintings allow him the illusion of basking in sunlight.

And so on: a transatlantic cruise brings Ferdinand into conflict with a sinister arch criminal, and well as entangling him with an elongated female phantom; finally, he becomes detached from his conscience, makes the mistake of biting Aspirine (because dreadful things happen if a vampire bites another vampire), continues to quarrel with his tree girlfriend…

It’s all very gentle, very inconsequential. Plot threads are taken up, dropped, resumed, characters drift in and out of the story, nothing much happens, but it’s very charming, very entertaining. The artwork looks very simple, even sketchy, but the people are full of character, and there are diverting details tucked into the corners of the narrative. It doesn’t have the humanity of Sfar’s “The Rabbi’s Cat”, but then it isn’t about humans, it’s about vampires.

Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Macmillan Childrens (2 Jun 2006)
Language: English
ISBN: 1596430931

Review first published in 2006.

Writer and Artist: Kyle Baker.

Reviewer: Alex

There are many reasons why I love Why I Hate Saturn: it’s got wit, style, cynicism, charm, it’s a little different from anything else and, by gum, it’s laugh-out-loud funny. It’s one of the few books I choose to re-read with any regularity and it still makes me laugh.

The key ingredient is main protagonist and narrator Anne, a columnist for a hip New York magazine trying to make sense of the vacuousness of pop-cultural modern life. She’s acerbic but insecure, overly fond of self-analysis and drinking too much. She argues with her best friend Rick, she argues with her editor, and most of all she argues with her very earnest (but quite possibly delusional) sister, who turns up on her doorstep with a gunshot wound.

The book is an impressive balancing act. It spends time creating believable characters but allows a (slightly screwball) plot to gradually gain momentum to develop those characters. It provides plenty of musings about relationships, society, creativity, and alcohol-vending establishments, but far from detracting from the characterisation, it’s done with such well-crafted dialogue and monologue that it significantly contributes to building characters you can believe in and empathise with.

The balanced tone of the book is perfectly matched by its art – Baker displays a considerable ability to capture the subtleties of facial expression, really bringing his characters to life; but equally he applies a deft use of caricature to heighten the humour without diminishing realism.

What marks this out as a minor classic is that although it’s firmly rooted in the late 80’s / early 90’s setting of its original release, it doesn’t feel dated at all. In fact, its sense of time and place only serves to make it more engaging, and I’m sure I’ll still be coming back to ‘Why I Hate Saturn’ for many years to come.
Paperback: 199 pages
Publisher: DC Comics (Dec 1998)
Language: English
ISBN: 0930289722

(First published 26/07/2006.)

Jean Rogers presents her top twenty comics; everything from classics, to stuff you didn’t know comics could talk about, to stuff only comics can do.

Three Classics

1. V for Vendetta – Alan Moore / David Lloyd (DC)

2. Sandman – Neil Gaiman et al (DC) – suggested volumes The Doll’s House / Brief Lives.

3. Shade the Changing Man – Peter Milligan / Chris Bachalo – early issues now in trade paperback as American Scream.

Milligan is the overlooked member of the “British invasion” of the 80s. He’s recently returned to comics with the jazzy, cheerfully cynical X-S series.

Three Classic Bandes Dessinees

4. Br. FranzSchuiten / Beno Peeters.

One of Schuiten and Peeters’ “Obscure Cities”, an intriguing story about development out of control, but the main attraction is the ravishing artwork.
5. Partie de Chasse (The Hunting Party) – Enki Bilal / Pierre Christin.

Bilal too creates fabulous images, but his solo stories tend to the incomprehensible: Partie de Chasse is the culmination of his collaborations with Christin, set at the very last gasp of the Soviet regime.
6. Asterix in Britain.

Asterix you know already, though you may not know how lucky the English are to have him so beautifully translated!

Explaining why grown-ups can still love superheroes

7. Animal Man – Grant Morrison et al.

My first choice would have been Flex Mentallo, but it seems that’s not going to happen. Well, Animal Man is good too: it plays games with narratives, it takes one of the sillier superheroes and makes us care about him, and there’s a genuine point in what Morrison has to say about how we treat animals.

8. Alias – Brian Michael Bendis / Michael Gaydos.

Just because you have superpowers doesn’t mean you have to be a career superhero; Jennifer Jones chooses to be a private eye, instead. A story about living in a world with superheroes in it, not a superhero story – sadly this series got dragged into the Marvel mainstream, but the early stories are fine. Bendis shows off his flair for dialogue.?

9. Daredevil: Born Again – Frank Miller / David Mazzucchelli.

Even superheroes can be beautifully done; powerful and touching stuff. TheDaredevil story that everyone else keeps re-playing!

Stuff you didn’t know comics could talk about

10. Maus – Art Spiegelman

11.One Bad Rat – Bryan Talbot

12. Understanding Comics – Scott McCloud

Stuff you didn’t know comics could talk about… including everyday life

13. The Complete Alec – Eddie Campbell.

 
Eddie Campbell’s autobiographical strip takes anecdotes about himself and his group of friends; the later How to be an Artist is fun for the insider’s eye view of comics, but the earlier stuff is more universal.

14. Ethel and Ernest – Raymond Briggs.
 

Raymond Briggs has a fine gallery of portraits of ordinary working-class couples: look at When the Wind Blows and (another favourite) Fungus the Bogeyman. This reflection on his parents shows where they come from.?

15. Optic Nerve – Adrian Tomine.
 

Adrian Tomine works a similar territory to Dan Clowes; aimless young people do the wrong thing and fail to relate to each other.

…and some stuff you can only do in comics

16. Nevada – Steve Gerber / Phil Winslade / Steve Leialoha.

Nevada explains what was going on with the chorus girl, the ostrich and thestandard lamp in the infamous “deadline doom” issue of Howard the Duck.

17. Rare Bit Fiends (any collection) – Rick Veitch.

Rare Bit Fiends is the title under which Rick Veitch collects his dream diaries. (The title is a homage to Windsor McKay – you wouldn’t call Little Nemo a graphic novel, would you? Because if you would, I’d add it to my list).

And some fun stuff
18. Finder: Sin Eater – Carla Speed McNeil.
 

How to explain Finder? In the gray area between SF and fantasy, it describes a word of high-tech gadgetry and controlled environments inhabited by a number of different “tribes”, each with their own customs and appearance. The background is complex, and can be confusing, but the story is about human relationships.

19. Sleaze Castle. I’ve written about this before here!

20. Fables

Bill Willingham et al.Fables is the term which the characters from the fairy tales use to refer to themselves after they have been exiled from their kingdom by the Adversary,and have made their home in New York, where they set up their own enclave but conceal their nature from the local population. The book puts a new slant on familiar characters: Prince Charming, for example, seems to have been married to most of the women at one time or another. Nothing life-changing, but often fun.

(First published 11/07/2006.)

Writer: Mark Millar.
Artist: Bryan Hitch.

Written by Mark Millar and drawn by Bryan Hitch, the basic idea behind ‘The Ultimates’ is to take the old Avengers line-up, and ‘reboot’ them from the year 1999, rather than their origin way back in the 1960s. Each of the characters gets a fresh take from writer Mark Millar, who helped redefine what could be done with superheroes in his excellent work on The Authority with artist Frank Quietly. In this book, he teams up with that other Authority artist, Bryan Hitch, who specialises in beautiful scenes of large scale urban destruction.

Miller makes his Avengers a lot more plausible and a lot less apple pie than their former incarnations, formulating them as military operatives. This book opens in the middle of a storyline involving domestic violence between Giant Man and his wife, The Wasp. ‘We designed Giant Man to be an action figure, for God’s sake. He ain’t supposed to do stuff like this’ complains Nick Fury, redesigned here as a cool black mofo styled off Samuel L Jackson.

The Hulk is much nastier, raping and eating people along with his usual bouts of property destruction, and Captain America is much more realistically brutal, freshly thawed out from his WWII-era iceberg. Ironman and Thor make up the rest of the public Ultimates team, but the coolest characters are reserved for the covert squad. Hawkeye and the Black Widow have ditched their naff costumes and been given a Matrix-style make over, decked out instead in scary black leather trenchcoats and shades. It’s these two who kick off the book’s first action scene, as they storm a couple of New York office buildings with scores of elite US troopers and execute every single white collar worker inside. It’s okay, though, ’cause they’re really shapeshifting reptilian extraterrestrials. Honest.

The action revolves around eliminating these aliens, who were once allied with the Nazis and are old enemies of Captain America. Along the way, there’s large scale destruction, massive military deployment, the works. The Ultimates is among the best action comics, and at times is like watching a big budget blockbuster, except the visuals are even more stunning and the writing is far superior. I haven’t enjoyed Marvel comics this much for a long time.

Paperback: 200 pages
Publisher: Marvel Comics (1 Jun 2004)
Language: English
ISBN: 078511078X

(First published 26/07/2006.)

Writers & Artists: James Robinson, Tony Harris, Wade von Grawbadger

¦lt;br /> Infernal Devices is the fifth volume of Starman, though is still pretty accessible to readers like myself who are new to the series. Enough background is filled in and explained to let you know what’s going on, although this book is really made for those who are into their superhero nostalgia. Starman, ironically enough, isn’t really the star of his own book here, providing instead the excuse to delve into the history of those lesser known Golden Era superheroes, such as Dr Midnite, Hourman, The Red Bee, etc, who show up in an abundance of cameos and crossovers. Rendered in muted colours and sepia tones, this book goes in for a ye olde look and feel, in contrast to the bright and boisterous colouring of more mainstream superhero books like The Justice League.

The book begins with a nice little warm-up tale called ‘The Return of Bobo’, telling the story of Jake Benetti, an ex-supervillain with superstrength and a bad habit of robbing banks. Like most of the characters in this volume, Benetti has a history, and was a big name back in the old days, a plainclothed villain who regularly encountered the likes of Dr. Midnite, The Human Bomb, Dr. Fate. The story takes a human angle on this flawed individual, although for a while it looks like he’s ready to return to his old ways, figuring that prison is where he belongs. But the story ends happily, with Bobo finding other, more socially acceptable uses for his superhuman abilities.

After this, the book kicks into its central story arc, concerning a mad bomber, the infernal Dr. Pip, who has a habit of escaping while our superhero contends with his hired muscle. Thrown into this tale are appearances by the original Green Lantern (now calling himself Sentinel), Solomon Grundy, and Shade, the changing man. Even Batman shows up, behaving particularly rude and grumpy to his fellow heroes, like he’s been quitting the ciggies or something, and I thought it was more than a little out of character. I guess even Batman has his bad days, though.

There are also a number of subplots involving the original Sandman, the Starman family and a female villain known as The Mist; packed with stuff for you to chew on.Starman is a little slow paced compared to more mainstream superhero books, but it provides an enjoyable world to get lost in nonetheless. It is a title which tries to revivify a lot of the old comic legends that might otherwise be forgotten, giving them somewhere to play and develop, rather than just supplying another superpowered monthly action-adventure. I wouldn’t say that this is for everyone, but those who enjoy exploring DC’s pantheon of forgettables, and superhero fans generally, will want to take a look at this.

Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Titan Books Ltd (28 Feb 2003)
Language: English
ISBN: 1840235624

(First published 26/07/2006.)

Writer: Frank Miller.
Artist: Dave Gibbons.

This sequel to Frank Miller’s classic Give Me Liberty sees Martha Washington take up her gun once again in the name of PAX and Dave Gibbons takes up his pen to render another action packed war adventure, a genre which has been his speciality since his days on 2000AD’s Rogue Trooper. Getting more than a little war-weary, Martha finds herself embroiled in a new mystery on the front lines of the second American Civil War, a conflict in which the Yankee PAX forces preach peace and compassion as they carpet bomb the southern states.

Rumours abound among the soldiers of both sides of the Ghosts, invisible entities who come from the nuclear wastelands of Oklahoma to haunt the battlefields, rendering weaponry inoperable or causing scientists to vanish without trace. With characteristic determination, Martha hurls herself into death-defying acts of danger to track down the mysterious Ghosts.

Give Me Liberty had readers gibbering with excitement as they explored with Martha an alternative American empire on the brink of disintegration. This installment is rather narrower in its scope. Where Liberty was an astounding epic, this tale is more of an adventure story which happens to use the same characters. Washington couldn’t hope to top its Eisner Award-winning predecessor, and was always bound to suffer from the inevitable comparisons. But a worthwhile read nontheless, from two of the best creators in comicdom.

Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Dark Horse Comics,U.S. (1 Nov 1995)
Language: English
ISBN: 1569710902

(First published 26/07/2006.)