R. Crumb Coffee Table Art Book by Robert Crumb 1998

            The R. Crumb Coffee Table Art Book blew my mind and not in that painfully clichéd way referential to the 60’s; I mean it actually had an impact on me. The almost abrasively honest subject matter depicted by Crumb was eye opening to say the least. His classic stuff was pretty funny but the best part, hands down, was the retrospective on his own life, where he sits in a velvet robe with that little pig and recounts his adventures, commenting on all the conventions of the times he lived through as well as giving a candid look into his life. The recounting of his sexual adventures was definitely less than savory, but secretly i thought it was great. The segment where he goes over the rise and fall of the hippie movement was especially interesting and I saw a lot of parallels between it and my generation. In another 20 or 30 years I hope to see someone’s hilarious and biting commentary on the generation who got passed the “save the world” ball and fumbled around with it. It was interesting reading and writing about this after the Bush Junta. The two together entice my imagination to project itself into the future. I’d be interested to find other comics that do the same kind of commentary on this level like the Bush Junta.

Ripple A Predilection for Tina by Dave Cooper 2004

Ripple details the very strange sexual (mis)adventure of a slightly depressed illustrator. From a general perspective this is similar to the cat lady story from Through the Habitrails, but Ripple is much more twisted and graphic. The protagonist who of course hates his job illustrates all the commonplace garbage we normally see in advertising until he gets a grant for a project on erotica. He rejects the idea of using a model he might expect to find in a magazine or other media outlet and instead searches for more of a “real” woman, one with features that could make anyone get their money’s worth of Photoshop. He ends up with a curvy, slightly manipulative and considerably younger woman (or girl) whom he develops a sexual attraction towards. Under the guise, if you can call it that, of erotic art, he draws her in sexual situations and gradually developes a relationship with her. He’s always thinking of some excuse to get her to come by and once she’s there he looks for a reason too get her to stay longer. The protagonist is needy and showers the girl with attention, which she in turn abuses. The situation gets weirder and weirder until the girl, fickle minded and unattached decides to leave. If I’m perfectly honest, I wasn’t disinterested, but I have to admit the whole thing was kind of gross and twisted. I felt bad for the protagonist who was too much of a mess to notice all the red flags. I’m also curious as to how “fictional” the story was. I’m inclined to believe that at least some of it was based, even loosely, on the author’s own experiences.

Riceboy by Evan Dahm 2008

            Despite how quickly it reads, rice boy was actually a pretty epic tale. A lot of the structure was pretty run-of-the-mill though; the hero’s call to action, his initial refusal and later acceptance, a quest with goals, save the world type of deal. The illustrations were also very simple in the way the drawing is handled but the characterizations and personalities were strong which contrasted the typical structure and gave it some uniqueness. Rice boy was the simplest drawing of them all, made of only a circle head and organic rectangular body, no arms or legs, or mouth even. His humility made him very easy to follow as a protagonist and gave the story a pleasant quaintness. He always greets people, and sometimes monsters politely. There was also another protagonist called The One Electronic, who was quite original. His face was a circular tv screen and in each panel that showed his face, a different black ad white still from movie or cartoon was depicted on the screen. I enjoyed following rice boy through all these imaginative environments. With each stop on his quest he would meet an equally imaginative character. At one point he meets a “woman” or female humanoid creature, who grows a tiny tree in the palm of her hand that dies and bursts into flames, which she uses to light her pipe. This type of innovation on the characters and environments (such as the matchstick woods) made the simplicity engaging. Apparently its available digitally and is part of a larger world with more stories, short ones and epics. I’ll have to check out the others at rice-boy.com to see if they’re as good or better.

BlackLung by Chris Wright 2012

            Now that I’m writing about it, I look back and realize that the Blacklung universe was very very strange, and I think I took it pretty lightly while I was reading it. For starters, it was violent; a child gets murdered by a street person within the first few pages. Although, at the time it didn’t seem too shocking, partly because of the illustration style. They all kind of look like ragdolls with some of the faces stitched together with different pieces of cloth, and everyones hands and feet were significantly larger than their heads, all of which made it all cartoonish and underplayed all the violence. With pirates and street thugs, Blacklung was straight out of a 10-year old boy’s imagination. The story’s protagonist is a rather jaded schoolteacher who seems unaffected when he hears about the child murder. This event though seemingly unrelated actually causes him to end up in the bad part of town right when a couple of gang members are executing a plan to assassinate another gang member. The protagonist and his associate, who is also partly to blame for their ending up here, are caught in the ensuing scuffle. The associate is murdered while the protagonist is kidnapped and taken aboard a pirate ship where he spends the remainder of the novel. There are few aboard the ship who protect him from the others. He eventually get’s on the captains good side when it is discovered that he is literate. The captain employs him to take dictation for his memoirs. As if he had a choice, the schoolteacher tags along with the pirates while they do pirate things, rape, pillage, murder, etc. Eventually all the notable characters, save the schoolteacher, go mad or get murdered or both, leaving the teacher, for all practical purposes, alone. He has no ties to any of the other pirate who are still alive and as a result they decide to leave him on an island. End novel. It was an interesting read but I’m not sure I got anything insightful from it.

Human Target: Final Cut by Peter Milligan, Javier Pulido, Dave Stewart 2002

            Human target was like a thriller movie, and appropriately so. Hollywood assassinations and a human chameleon protagonist made for a pretty wild ride. There’s a serial killer going around targeting celebrities. First he sends a note, like a ransom note before the kidnapping, demanding money, pay up or die. As if they’re used to these kinds of veiled threats, most shrug it off, until the killer delivers. That’s where our protagonist, Christopher Chance, comes in, a very literal human chameleon. He surgically adorns the persona of the celebrity under threat and waits for the opportunity to turn the tables and apprehend the culprit, taking acting to a whole new level. I was quite taken with Milligan’s writing. He takes you inside Chance’s head where countless plastic surgeries and deep role immersion have taken a significant psychological toll. Chance struggles with who he is/was outside of his work, where he has to quite literally become another person. Murder, mystery, scandal, drama, this book had it all. I cant tell if the Hollywood setting was ironic, clever or both. When I explained the plot to someone else after reading, I realized how implausible it all was. Though, I think it’s some indicator of success that I really didn’t care or even consider that while reading and I genuinely enjoyed it.

Jar of Fools by Jason Lutes 2001

Jar of Fools was simultaneously a tale of dejection and hope. All the major characters were pretty down on their luck.

There’s Ernie, the protagonist, a failing magician and budding alcoholic,

Esther, his ex girlfriend who physically took her anger out on a number of aux. characters,

Al Flosso, a veteran magician gradually losing his mental faculties, as the elderly generally do,

Nathan Lender, a homeless con man and single father
and Claire Lender, nathan’s daughter and the story’s source of hope and redemption.

For a story about the ceaseless uphill struggle known as life and those who dance dangerously close to its gutter, this story was surprisingly light and provided much relief from the well crafted tension. Beneath the surface level subject matter of magicianship, there lies some interesting insight into generational struggles and changing times. Al is a veteran from an era more accepting of the vaudeville lifestyle, he’s got all the tricks. He passed some of them on to Ernie but the changing times and general stuggles of light have rendered them lackluster in his hands. Al spends a good portion of the novel trying to help Ernie get it together. Nathan is maybe a bit older than Ernie but he was probably too old and jaded to be inspired by Flosso in his prime like Ernie probably was. Nathan’s magicianship has “devolved” into con artistry out of survival. The confluence of the two is where the important of Claire comes in. She represents/has potential & hope, everyone becomes pressed with the need to pass all their knowledge on to her so that maybe she can make it out of the hole they all seem to be swimming in. The ending is symbolic of this as Esther drives off with Claire, as if Al, Ernie and Nathan have done all they could for her.

Bush Junta 25 Cartoonists on the Mayberry Machiavelli and the Abuse of Power by Gary Groth and Mack White 2005

            Reading the Bush Junta was definitely the most eye-opening graphic novel I have ever read. It provided well-researched insights into the various political escapades and affairs of the Bush family and associates through the second half of the 20^th century. It gave me a new perspective on my country and coming out of it, I begin to have a fuller understanding of how I fit in to it all. It was like zooming out to see the larger influences and personal agendas that ripple out to affect someone as uninvolved as me. At first glance one might assume this book is just one long political cartoon but there are actually a few distinct things that separate it from the genre. In political cartooning, opinions are stated using the dialogue between characters or captions or just the overall use of text. In the Bush Junta however, the text was reserved for fact only; all wording was remarkably unbiased. This created a pocket in which subtle commentary is made through use of caricature and the more strictly visual elements. Topics covered in the Bush Junta include the Bush family history, including its connections to the Nazi regime, The Nixon & Reagan administrations, Iran-contra, Donald Rumsfeld, Abu Gharib, Carl Rove, and much more. It was like cliff notes for the American Government on either side of Clinton, and I feel more prepared and inclined to vote in 2016.

Came the Dawn

            When I checked out Came the Dawn, I thought it was something completely different, and by different I mean contemporary. This book was like stumbling upon a time machine taking me back to 1950 through a collection of short stories with classic crime, mystery and drama plots that by today’s standard would be considered cliché. The cast of characters for each story was as follows: 1 chisel-chinned white guy equipped with smoking implement, 1 supplemental, less heroic white guy, maybe he has a moustache, 1 monster or villainous character, 1 blonde chick, unless she’s a villain/seductress, in which case brunette. Needless to say I didn’t get too into this whole universe. But all anachronism aside, the black & white illustrations were actually quite good; very professionally done. In the introduction, Wallace Wood goes over his process; how he and Harry Harrison would pass their pages back and forth and churn out comic stories.

Bureau of Paranormal Research & Defense-Plague of Frogs

            I read BPRD #1-5 but it really didn’t pick up till #3 plague of frogs. I’m not normally a fan of super hero comic books, but I found the Hellboy world to be particularly captivating. I really like the “ancient evil” elements that this universe makes a point to use. If anything it helps to suspend disbelief. I bet if looked up some of the names there would be some sort of lore on them-- or maybe not, but it feels that way at least. As the title suggest, BPRD follows a small “FBI unit for paranormal happenings;” except this particular unit is made up of paranormal humanoids themselves. There’s the initial happening in the intro, where some unimportant character will probably die, then the stories are actually a bit like Scooby doo except the monsters are all real and everyone knows they’re real. The gang flies in examine the still smoking husk of what used to be a man, find some evidence of supernatural activity and they’re on the case. In plague of frogs, some ancient evil entity in the form of a giant humanoid mushroom comes to town and starts a cult of frog people—they were normal people but having joined the cult they have been turned into humanoid frog creatures. The frog creatures infiltrate society by shape shifting into human forms and the Bureau sets out to eradicate them. There turns out to be thousands of them and their extermination turns into somewhat of a military campaign. Everything culminates when a leader, who is of course some guy with a Nazi fetish, rises up amongst the frogs and summons and even greater evil that threatens all of humanity. This particular adventure wrapped itself up at the end of #5 but I couldn’t help checking Amazon for the later editions. Unfortunately I was too frugal to drop $10 on another thrilling tale. It seemed like a slippery slope.

Sleepwalking and Other Stories by Adrian Tomine 1998

            I was pretty unprepared for Tomine’s Sleepwalking and other stories of overwhelming loneliness. The characters were so sad and depressing I felt my self esteem go up after finishing, thinking, “well at least I’m not that guy.” Although it wasn’t exactly “bad,” I cant say that I would recommend this book. The writing wasn’t too bad and the illustrations were fine, but I cant get over the fact that every character that played the subject of a story was incredibly alone, alienated, depressed, or otherwise down on their luck. I kept reading, hoping to find a happy ending, or some dark humor at the very least, but it all just dragged on with the same motif of the downtrodden. I guess if there are any redeeming qualities to this book, it’s having done sad well. In doing so, I suppose there’s a bit of realism in there too. I feel like I almost overlooked this aspect because of the insistence of these themes of loneliness and alienation. It’s almost as if harping so much on the idea that “we’re all alone,” causes a deviation from a sense of reality. Perhaps if I had read the stories one at a time, spaced out, in the context of a weekly or monthly publication, I might have a greater appreciation for the sentiment and the perspective on reality. On second thought I might actually recommend this to someone who thinks they’re depressed or maybe someone who actually is. People always need a remind that “it’s not that bad” or “it could be a lot worse. No, really, it could be a lot worse.”

Stigmata by Lorenzo Mattotti & Claudio Piersanti 2010

            Stigmata was an interesting story following a “man falls into a hole” sort of structure. When we are introduced to the character, he has just found himself in an unpleasant situation, the aforementioned hole, and the story, of course, traces his journey to the depths of that hole and the struggle to climb out. In addition to finding large gaping wounds in his hands, the protagonist is also a degenerate. Everyone around him however regards these wounds as stigmata, wounds bestowed rather than inflicted on saints and holy persons. Therein lie the initial tensions that build and begin to pick apart his life, because the protagonist has no intentions of embodying this ideal of a holy person. The stigmata are his call to action, which he of course ignores, keeping his day job at some eating or drinking establishment. However within a few pages, the ceaselessly bleeding wounds get him fired and send him on his journey to redemption. The illustrations are a complimentary and violent mess of ink work, made more aggressive with each rising action.

Jim Henson’s Tale of Sand realized by Ramon K Perez 2011

            I would like to start by congratulating Ramon Perez. Tale of Sand was the most beautifully rendered graphic novel that I have read in a long time. Normally, I do believe this level of rendering to be unnecessary, but it’s always commendable and in this case remarkable. I do feel like Henson’s screenplay gets lost amid the glitz and glamour of the illustrations, but I think what that does is make the piece more of an original work by Perez. Despite this more conceptual hang up, I absolutely loved the way Henson’s script was physically lost within the illustrations. Throughout the novel, snippets of the script are used as backgrounds and other visual elements to actually create the illustrations. So, while I will ultimately consider Perez responsible for my experience with this story, it is still obvious to me as a reader how much Henson did to set the pace for this quirky surreal story. What is less obvious however is what artistic liberties Perez took, aside from making it gorgeous, of course. The omission of extensive dialogue is something, I imagine, was decided by Perez, but nevertheless, this particular element along with the way in which the story was concluded make it very re-readable. I point out this quality of re-readability here, but it isn’t something I normally consider when reading/reviewing graphic novels. I now find this strange because I believe that one of the greatest strengths, and paradoxically, one of the greatest weaknesses of graphic narratives is that they’re over too quick. A really great graphic novel is never long enough; you always want more when it’s over.

Through the Habitrails by Jeff Nicholson 1996

             The Habitrails was a trip. It was dark, depressing, insightful, hilarious, and frightening all at the same time. It’s broken up into short stories, but the overarching plotline is that of an illustrator working for some oppressive unnamed company. The name of the company seems as unimportant as the work he does as an illustrator. The real selling point is the effect that this rather undesirable environment has on the internal state of the narrator. As readers we take refuge in the internal dialogue of the narrator as he trudges through the atrocities of a corporate swamp. As an art school student this played on a lot of my fears regarding post-collegiate life. I don’t actually think I’ll end up in that kind of position, but the thought of being a corporate cog is still scares me, because I know I would never survive. The Habitrails is littered with surreal metaphors detailing the unseen elements that threaten survival in this environment; every so often sales representatives with sickly smiles waltz into the panel and jab a sharp-ended tap into the unsuspecting employees to “tap their juices” or steal their life force. These elements give the story a twisted realism that I found really impactful.

Barefoot Serpent by Scott Morse 2003

            I found Barefoot Serpent to be a pleasant surprise. The simplistic and cute style of drawing leaves the reader unprepared for the richness and depth of the storyline. There were also some darker elements and themes of death, which surprised me as well. I did find the blending of the two stories to be a bit strange. I’m not sure it bothered me but I also don’t think I drew any immediate of significant connections between them. I found the biographical information on Akira Kurosawa to be very interesting as well. I have seen a couple of his films but like with most directors I never really found out who he was. Barefoot Serpent gave a lot of pertinent insight into the background of this very influential artist. While this short graphic biography was interesting, the real treasure is Morse’s story. That’s where the real depth is. The elements are presented so nonchalantly that you could almost overlook their subtle connection to all the different parts of the plot. I highly recommend this quick read. On one final note, I also noticed the format to be different from what I am used to seeing in comics and graphic novels. Each page had no more than 3 panels, each one spanning the width of the page; almost like a widescreen movie format. This simplifying of information on each page made the reading flow smoothly throughout the book.

Response to: The Arrival

     What really puts comics and graphic narratives in their own category apart from illustrations, novels and other traditional forms of literature or image making is their ability to not only present but employ actual visual images to create the story, advance it, and make it more compelling. There is an emphasis on employ here because, in this genre in particular, it is really not enough to simply have pictures alongside language or as a supplement to language. To be successful, they must work in tandem in order to create a sense of space and time.
     Works like Shaun Tan's The Arrival demonstrate just how graphic the narrative can be. It uses an implied language that manifests itself as a concrete yet fluid narrative that uses no words. Although the entire book is an impressive testament to this feat, for examples one need look no further than the first two pages. On the first, there are 9 evenly spaced panels each with a single object in the frame. To read this page is to become familiar with each of these objects, for when we turn the page we find all of them placed within a single setting. Spatial relations between them set a scene, and because we have read the page previous, we understand the sophistication of this scene. We are much more prepared to comprehend this particular moment in time and all the different levels that the image is operating on. Here the artist employs the actual time it takes to view two pages of images to foster an understanding of the narrative timeline. This is how I come to realize that the story begins in medias res.