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.