Genius

Written by Steven T. Seagle
Art by Teddy Kristiansen

Steven T. Seagle and Teddy Kristiansen are a favourite comics pairing of mine, almost on the same level as Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips, if not as prolific.  They've worked on some incredible comics together, such as House of Secrets, It's a Bird..., and The Red Diary, but I somehow never learned about Genius, this slim graphic novel that came out in 2013.

Genius is the story of Ted, a theoretical physicist who has gone years without an idea worthy of publication, a prerequisite for him continuing in his job.  At the same time that Ted worries about his employment, things are starting to get out of control at home.  His wife is getting sick, and needs to be able to access his health care.  His teenage son is becoming ever more interested in girls, and his daughter feels more and more out of place.

Ted's father in law, who suffers from dementia, has been holding onto a secret of Albert Einstein's ever since he worked as a guard for the great man after the Second World War.  Ted becomes obsessed with the notion that this knowledge could put his life back on track, but is unsure how he can extract it from the bitter and confused old man.

Seagle and Kristiansen tell a quiet and muted story in this book, aided by Kristiansen's muted colour palette, and his minimalist art.  These characters come alive, and much of the story stuck with me after reading it.  Middle age is portrayed as a reckoning, a coming to terms with the extent of personal limitations, and the story feels very timely in an era where even middle class employment feels as precarious as everyone's health.  It's not a cheerful book, but it is kind of affirming.

The Shadow Hero

Written by Gene Luen Yang
Art by Sonny Liew

I've long been a fan of Gene Luen Yang, Sonny Liew, and the characters of the Golden Age of comics, so The Shadow Hero, a graphic novel that reinvents the mostly forgotten character The Green Turtle was right up my alley.

The Turtle experienced a very short publishing run in 1944, as a comics artist named Chu Hing tried to give America its first Asian hero, although he was coloured as if he were Caucasian, and his face was never shown.  The title didn't last past a handful of issues, but I suppose he made enough of an impression that Yang and Liew decided to revitalize him.

This is the story of Hank, the American-born son of two Chinese immigrants living in the fictional Pacific city San Incendio.  Unknown to everyone, before coming to America, Hank's father agreed to be the host to the Tortoise Spirit, which lived in his shadow.

After a run-in with some bank robbers and the Anchor of Justice, the local superhero, Hank's mother decides that she wants him to become a hero, which she views as better than becoming a meek grocer, like his father.  He's forced into months of training, but his first foray as a hero is a disaster.  Later, he discovers that his father is being mistreated by the local Tong, and that leads Hank on a series of adventures that will establish him as a true hero.

Yang's writing, from his own cartoons like American Born Chinese and Boxers & Saints, through to his work on DC's New Super-Man is always tight, and his love for his characters and his purpose in writing this book is clear.  He both avoids and embraces some of the racial stereotyping so inherent in the Golden Age, and provides us with a lot of depth.

Sonny Liew, who has most recently worked on Doctor Fate at DC, is a very talented artist (I loved his Malinky Robot comic).  There's a real chemistry between him and Yang in this book.

I would be very happy to see or read more of the Green Turtle's adventures.

The Divine

Written by Boaz Lavie
Art by Tomer Hanuka and Asaf Hanuka

I remember first seeing this image of Johnny and Luther Htoo, the twelve year old twin leaders of the Karen God's Army, who fought in Myanmar, back in 2000 or so, and immediately wanting to know more about them.  At the time, I thought that their story would make a great movie or something, and never really forgot that picture.  When I first saw the cover of The Divine, a graphic novel by Boaz Lavie and the Hanuka brothers, it immediately reminded me of the earlier image.

The Divine is about a magical version of the Htoo twins, who live in the fictional Asian country of Quanlom.  They don't show up in the first half of the book though.

The story is told from the point of view of Mark, an explosives technician who is also an expecting father.  When a promotion at work doesn't quite work out the way he was hoping, he decides to join a friend in an off-the-books explosives mission in the secretive and war-torn nation of Quanlom.  His friend, Jason, plays the role of the Ugly American quite well, and Mark is not all the comfortable with the way his friend treats the locals who they are working with.

When Mark discovers an injured child who might be endangered by the detonation he's planned, he decides to get him treatment and to accompany him home.  This puts him in contact with Luke and Thomas, the Divine.  They appear to be commanding a small army of child soldiers in the jungle, and we learn that Thomas has great abilities.

The story gets pretty mystical at this point, and becomes more and more gripping as it moves towards its conclusion.  The art, by the Hanuka brothers, is beautiful and often luminous.  I have enjoyed every piece of their work that I've read, and was quite pleased to see them working together on this book again.

This was a pretty impressive comic, and I was especially excited when I got to the backmatter and learned that the same photo of the Htoo brothers that impressed itself upon me almost twenty years ago had the same effect on the creators of this book.

Saints

by Gene Luen Yang

I read Gene Luen Yang's Boxers a little while ago, and felt it was time to dig into Saints, its companion graphic novel.  Where the other book looked at the Boxers Rebellion from the perspective of a young Chinese man who played a key role in that conflict, Saints is concerned with the experiences of one girl who converted to Christianity and lived in a small Christian community.

Four-Girl is born to a difficult life, shunned by her family, and convinced of her own inherent devilry.  At the age of eight, she goes around making a face at everyone she sees to convince them that she is a devil, something she's been told by her family her whole life.  Her mother takes her to an acupuncturist, who introduces her to his Christianity.

Four-Girl, believing in her powers, places a hex on her aged grandfather, and then within days, he dies.  She feels guilt, and starts visiting the acupuncturist daily, mostly to eat cookies, avoid her chores, and nap through his stories, but the religion begins to stick.  When Four-Girl announces that she has converted, her family beats her, and she runs away, joining a French missionary as he moves to a new community.

She grows up there, taking on the name Vibiana.  Where before she imagined conversations with an old raccoon, as the story progresses, she begins having lengthy conversations with Joan of Arc, who often visits her in the evening and shares information about her life.  As Vibiana grows up, she becomes a little less religious, especially around the time that she starts to feel interest in Kong, a minor character from Boxers.

Vibiana sees herself as the new Joan of Arc, and as the person who is going to protect her community, as news arrives of the coming of the Society of the Righteous and Harmonious Fist, the group that has been killing Christians and foreigners.

Yang's work here is very nice.  He makes Vibiana a sympathetic character, while also making it completely okay to question her sanity and motivations.  I've personally always wondered about convert communities, and how 'pure' their faith must really be, or to what extent they are just looking to make substantive changes in their lifestyle, and their new religion becomes a means to that end.  Yang allows me to keep my cynicism with this book, as Vibiana really just looks out for herself.

I found it interesting that Yang kept the colours for this book pretty drab, while Boxers was brighter and more vibrant.  It's not hard to imagine which side in the conflict between traditional and missionary cultures Yang feels more sympathy towards.  I particularly like his portrayal of Father Bey, the priest whose strict devotion and judgemental ways landed him in China in the first place, where he really didn't trust even his closest followers.

This book, both on its own and with its companion title, belong as part of the larger conversation of post-colonial literature.

Boxers

by Gene Luen Yang

I've been a fan of Gene Luen Yang's work since I read American Born Chinese a few years ago.  He has a simplistic approach that gives way to intelligent storytelling with great depth.  Boxers is one half of a two-book set (with Saints, which is on my to-read pile) that examines the Boxer Rebellion in China at the turn of the 20th Century.

Boxers focuses on Little Bao, an illiterate youth growing up in a small village in a remote province of China.  His area is isolated, and while the people are poor, they are able to eke out a decent living.  One day, during a spring festival, they are visited by a boorish lout who rightly gets his ass handed to him by Bao's father.  It turns out that this man is a Christian convert, and like good Christians everywhere, returns to exact revenge, bringing a white man with him.  This man smashes the statue of a much-loved god, and steals food from the village that he believes is rightful restitution.

As time goes on, we see how the influence of the missionaries and European governments are damaging traditional Chinese social structures.  When Bao's father goes to complain to a local government leader about how the village is being treated, he is set upon by foreign soldiers and beaten so badly he never recovers his faculties.

Into this tense setting comes Red Lantern Chu, a brother of the Big Sword Society.  He begins to help the locals to resist the foreigners and the secondary devils (what they call the converts).  He does not allow Bao to participate in his kung fu training, but then begins to teach the youth in secret.

Eventually, Red Lantern is killed, and Bao continues training under a different master.  Here the story veers towards magical realism, as Bao begins to channel a Chinese god when he fights, rescuing his older brothers from certain death.  From here, Bao begins to gather supporters for his fight against the foreigners, leading an ever-growing army towards Peking.

Along the way, Bao meets Mei-Wen, who herself begins to lead a group of female warriors.  We follow Bao and his people through the end of the Boxer Rebellion.

This is a very interesting book.  I don't know very much about this time period, and so don't know where Yang has diverted from established fact (somewhere before all the Gods show up, I imagine).  I do get the feeling that this book has been meticulously researched and is more accurate, in it's unique way, than it isn't.  I know that Saints tells a similar story, but from the perspective of a 'secondary devil', and I'm curious to know that interpretation, especially since my own inclinations lean towards seeing things through Bao's eyes, in a post-colonial perspective.

Yang builds his story very nicely.  He invests a lot of time in developing Bao, who is bullied by his older brothers and then ends up leading them.  He makes Bao's relationship with Mei-Wen believable, as are the internal conflicts Bao needs to resolve to be a strong leader.

There is a sense of misogyny in this work that doesn't sit well with me, as male characters discuss how contact with females can dilute their concentration and power.  There is an attempt to balance this through Mei-Wen, but it's often not enough.  At the same time, this is a work of historical fiction, and I imagine that Yang is being accurate in his portrayal of how women were treated.

Yang's artwork is straight-forward, but very effective in portraying emotion and thought.  He uses a slightly drab colour palette throughout most scenes, but when the gods enter the story, things become brighter and a little garish.

This book is a remarkable piece of work, and I look forward to reading its companion.

The Sculptor

by Scott McCloud

I knew going in that The Sculptor, the new graphic novel by Scott McCloud, was going to be an impressive piece of work, but I was still surprised by the depth of emotion that McCloud imbued his story with.

David Smith is a young artist who has always dreamed of being a successful, famous sculptor.  An early brush with art world fame fell apart because of the prickly nature of David's personality, and since then, his life has been very difficult.  He can't get proper gallery representation, is about to lose his apartment, and is down to his last friend in New York.  His family is all dead, and he has set himself a rigid set of rules to live by (no handouts or charity, ever, for example).

On his birthday, while quietly getting drunk by himself in a touristy diner, David is surprised to run into his great uncle Harry, who has been dead for many years.  As it turns out, Harry is Death, in a rare human guise.  He asks David what he'd be willing to trade for artistic success, and David quickly offers up his life.  They enter into a Faustian bargain where David is given unparalleled artistic ability for two hundred days, at which point he is going to die.  He readily agrees to this, because he is at a point where he values his artistic legacy more than his existence.

Of course, almost immediately, things begin to change for David.  He has the ability to mold rock or steel with his bare hands, allowing him complete freedom in creating shapes and figures.  That same day, though, he becomes the unwitting centre of a street theatre piece, and meets a girl who is going to change his life.

As the book progresses, a few things take place.  First, we begin to suspect that David's artistic problems are more from a lack of having something to say with his art compared to ability; once he create anything he can imagine, he relies on creating representational pieces from his memory that only have meaning for him.  When he holds a show in his apartment, it is likened to a Polynesian gift shop.  Later, he is barred from returning to his apartment after his works crash through the floor, and homeless and in despair, he is taken in by the girl from the performance piece, Meg, who likes to make projects of helping people.

David pretty quickly falls for Meg, although it takes a lot longer for her to begin to reciprocate those feelings for him.  As the book progresses, David becomes more and more aware of his deadline looming, as he searches for artistic and emotional fulfillment.

McCloud plays with a of stuff in this hefty graphic novel.  The magical realism that allows the plot to take place doesn't feel very forced, although at the end I felt things became a little too comic-book.  The base elements of this story - deals with the devil, finding love just before dying, the frustration of the creator who is unable to create - are not new, but McCloud mixes them very nicely.

His characters feel very real.  David has always been a difficult person, especially after losing his parents and sister at a young age, and having to rely on himself in a very hostile world.  His blind adherence to rules he's set out for himself, and his penchant for speaking plainly to people in positions of influence have put him where he is, and he does not have the tools to get himself out of his situation on his own.  Meg is equally complex - endlessly generous, she suffers from depression and refuses to take medication for it.

McCloud literally wrote the book on graphic storytelling, so it's no surprise that this book is beautifully laid out and illustrated.  He makes interesting use of panel borders, keeping a traditional page structure for most of the book, but bleeding to the edges of the page during scenes of great emotion or stress.

In all, this is a very powerful piece of work.  McCloud really twists the knife towards the end, and while I don't love everything about the conclusion (which, again, gets a little too super-powers/comic bookish), I did feel a genuine ache for these characters upon closing the book.  Read this.

The Wrenchies

by Farel Dalrymple

Farel Dalrymple's work can be a little inaccessible at times.  I enjoyed his Pop Gun War, but by the end of it, wasn't really sure of what it was that I had read.  His Omega: The Unknown is universally adored, but he didn't write that.

I went in to The Wrenchies a little unsure of what to expect, but came out of it with a massive appreciation of Dalyrmple's plotting and story construction, to go along with my usual enjoyment of his art and sense of design.

The Wrenchies is a multi-layered book, basically about a future where only the young are able to survive, and even they are in a constant battle with the Shadowsmen, as well as with the hostile environment the Earth has become.  The gang of kids who have built a reputation as being able to best fight off the Shadowsmen are The Wrenchies, who have named themselves after an old comic book.

This comic was written and drawn by Sherwood Presley Breadcoat, who as a young child entered a cave with his brother, did battle with demons, and then embarked on a long adolescence of being a hero, then an art student, and eventually an unhappy comics artist.  He embedded The Wrenchies #1 with a number of puzzles, to draw mystics to him.  Next door to adult Sherwood lives young Hollis, a misfit child in a bad homemade superhero costume, who has a ghost as a best friend, and who believes that his Wrenchies comic may be making him do bad things.

The narrative shifts between these different groups of characters as the book unfolds, and as we learn just how connected all of these different plotlines are.  Dalrymple blends, very successfully, a variety of genres in this graphic novel.  We get some pretty cool post-Apocalyptic action, a coming-of-age story that I'm sure a number of comics fans can relate to parts of, and some pointed commentary on the nature of the comics industry, and its influence in the world.

I found the book's shifting narrative structure, and embedded connections to different layers of the story, to be reminiscent of novels like David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas.  Dalrymple's art is terrific, and I especially liked the pages where he laid out the floor plans to secret underground lairs or scientific laboratories.  There were some pages where the colouring process rendered things a little too dark or muddy, but overall, this was a beautiful and rewarding book that screams out for second and third readings so that its nuances can be completely understood.  Highly recommended.

Battling Boy

by Paul Pope

There are some cartoonists who release new work so rarely that it is a real cause for celebration when they drop a new book on the world.  Chief among these creators is Paul Pope, whose new graphic novel Battling Boy has been anticipated for years.

I was a little surprised to see the approach that Pope took for this book.  It's been designed to appeal to just about all ages, as Pope gives us a coming-of-age story for a young god who arrives on Earth to fight monsters.

The book opens with the story shown in the Death of Haggard West one-shot a couple of months ago.  The end of that comic, which has West, the science-hero of Arcopolis, die in battle, is interwoven with new material, as we are introduced to the young Boy, who lives in a mystical city kind of like Asgard.  As part of his adolescence, the Boy is sent to Earth to prove himself.  His father is one of the greatest heroes of his people, but he can't help the kid much.

To aid him in his quest, the Boy has been given a collection of special t-shirts which allow him to tap into the abilities of the creatures depicted on them.  This is marketing genius, if this book were to ever be adapted for TV or film.  The kid shows up just as a gigantic monster is wrecking havoc on the Boy's new home, and even though he gets some assistance from his father in putting the creature down, he comes out of the skirmish as a hero.

I love Pope's art, which is always exciting and a little rough, but I also think he's come a long way as a writer.  His Battling Boy is unsure of himself, and a little intimidated by what is expected of him.  Haggard West's daughter is another major character, and she is an interesting study in determination and drive.

My only real complaint about this book is that it doesn't exactly resolve the story, and feels more like the first volume of a series that is going to be incredibly sporadic in coming out.  If this book was delayed for years, I shudder to think of how long it might take to see a new story.  Still, I'll be first in line to buy it, because this was a great read.

Red Handed: The Fine Art of Strange Crimes

by Matt Kindt

I've been consistently intrigued by Matt Kindt's work since I discovered him a few years back.  Books like Spy Story, 3 Story, and Revolver have played with genre expectations in new and surprising ways, and have told some solid, interesting stories.  Currently, Kindt is hitting it out of the park on a monthly basis with Mind MGMT, his series at Dark Horse, and I imagined that writing and drawing a monthly comic for the last year, as well as taking on the occasional writing assignment for DC, would have kept him too busy to make an entire graphic novel on the side, but Red Handed: The Fine Art of Strange Crimes is proof that this guy is a workhouse as well as a genius.

Red Handed plays with the detective and police procedural genres.  It's set in the town of Red Wheel Barrow, a place with a very high crime rate, but with also a perfect rate for crimes being solved, especially when Detective Gould is on the case.  Using the latest in police techniques and gadgets, Gould solves every case that comes across his desk, no matter how random or strange it might seem.  And in Red Wheel Barrow, the crimes are always strange.

Each chapter in this book examines a different crime.  We have a woman who obsessively steals chairs, including an electric chair.  We have a frustrated wannabe writer who steals street and business signs so as to write her novel on the walls of five rented warehouses.  We have an elevator repairman who uses a hidden camera to take erotic photos of the women he rescues.

There are some threads that connect all of these crimes however, as Detective Gould has a nemesis who he is not aware of, someone who is working hard to arrange events that should bring Gould down.

Kindt's storytelling in terrific.  He builds and discards his characters regularly, and finishes most chapters with what look like photographs of newspaper strips before they are published.  Kindt has always been one to play with the conventions of the comic book, and it's very cool to see him do it here so effortlessly.  This is a very cool, very engaging book.

Marathon

Written by Boaz Yakin
Art by Joe Infurnari

Ancient Greece has had a pretty impressive, if limited, run in modern-day comics.  I'm not talking about Wonder Woman or Eddie Campbell's Bacchus here, but more such historically-influenced classics as the (slowly) ongoing Age of Bronze, and Frank Miller's 300.  I've always been a little surprised that there aren't more books set during the beginnings of democracy, seeing as there is such a wealth of great stories from that period.

With Marathon, writer Boaz Yakin and artist Joe Infurnari set out to tell the story of the Persian invasion of Athens in 490 CE.  As the Persian forces landed on the shores of Marathon, a young soldier named Eucles was sent to bring word to Sparta, a dangerous journey undertaken on foot.  He ran back with the response, helped battle the Persians at Marathon, and then had to run to Athens to deliver another message; it is from his deeds that the marathon was born.

Not knowing a whole lot about Greek history, I can't speak to the accuracy of the historical content of this book, but I can say that it's a well written story.  It's established at the beginning that Eucles, the son of slaves, is much quicker on his feet than any other boy in Athens, but by being so, he brings about the displeasure of Hippias, the dictator who controls the city.  Later, Eucles helps the Spartans in deposing him, although Hippias later returns with the armies of Darius of Persia.  Yakin develops the personal animosity between Eucles and Hippias's son, Philon, to give the book an added sense of drama.

Joe Infurnari's art is left pretty rough throughout most of the book, which sometimes makes identifying characters difficult, but it also avoids the demands of rigorous historical accuracy which could cripple any period book not drawn by Eric Shanower.  His scratchy lines work well at adding to the sense of urgency that permeates Eucles's story.

In all, I enjoyed reading this book, and look forward to seeing other comics creators return to Ancient Greece.

Lewis & Clark

by Nick Bertozzi

As much as I enjoy learning and reading about history, I am pretty ignorant of much of American history, mostly because I'm Canadian.  For example, I knew that Lewis and Clark were two guys who traveled to the West, and who made first contact with a number of Aboriginal nations, but I didn't know much more than that.  Enter Nick Bertozzi's graphic novel, which renders their story in a palatable package.

In Lewis & Clark, Bertozzi shows these two famous and revered explorers as real people, and while he condenses both their journey and much of the historical context that surrounds it, he manages to deliver a chronicle that captures the sheer difficulty of their mission, and the substances of their character.

Meriwether Lewis was selected by Thomas Jefferson to find a river route across the American continent to the Pacific.  Lewis chose as a partner his old friend William Clark, and after a lengthy period of procuring resources and men, they set off.  The land they traveled through belonged to a variety of Aboriginal nations, with their own political agendas and varying degrees of understanding the extent of America's intent to expand into their territory.  With the help of some guides and translators, including the famous Sacagewea, they eventually reached their goal and returned home.

The book shows many of their difficulties, not the least those caused by Lewis's disagreeable personality.  There are a number of scenes that do not portray him in a very positive light, although Clark, as the calmer, more thoughtful leader, comes off very well.

Bertozzi's made very good use of the larger, almost European-sized pages of this book to put together some expansive double-page spreads.  He often uses the space on the page to suggest the length of the explorers and their companions' trip, set against the imposing Rocky Mountains.

This book belongs alongside some of the more accomplished recent Canadian graphic novels The Klondike, Louis Riel, and Northwest Passage, all of which deal with the encroachment of European civilization on the continent's West, and which form the nucleus of a sub-genre of cartooning that I am enjoying a great deal and am happy to support.

Olympians Vol. 1: Zeus King of the Gods

by George O'Connor

I read George O'Connor's first graphic novel, Journey into Mohawk Country, and was pretty unimpressed, despite the fact that the subject matter is right up my alley.  When I saw reviews for Zeus, the first of his Olympian graphic novel series, I never realized that it was by the same creator; he has completely changed his style and approach for this book.

In these books, O'Connor is retelling the classic Greek myths for a more modern audience.  In many ways, he's borrowing a few pages from Lee and Kirby, envisioning these deities as the first superheroes, although he stays true to the essence and look of their sources.

This volume deals with the creation of the world, and the way in which Zeus led his brothers and sisters to overthrow the Titans.  There's plenty of action, and a pretty quick-moving plot.  There are a few places where O'Connor has played with the characters' motivations to make them easier to relate to and understand, but for the most part, he's gone for a faithful portrayal (although I'm not sure why he leaves out the rivalry between Zeus and his siblings).

Artistically, he's come a long way.  I feel like the art is a bit of a mix between early Mike Mignola and Michael Avon Oeming, if that makes sense.  He really works at portraying the differences in size between the Titans and the Olympians, which I thought made the battle scenes pretty effective.  My favourite character design would have to be for the Hekatonchieres, the hundred-handed creatures that guard Tartarus.  They have hands coming out of their fingers, in a very fractal design that I thought was cool.

While I enjoyed this book, I thought that it was too short for the full hardcover treatment - the story was only 66 pages, with some back matter used to round things out.  I would not have been happy to pay full price for something so short.

The Professor's Daughter

Written by Joann Sfar
Art by Emmanuel Guibert

This is another oddball Free Comic Book Day purchase that I made this year, based on the high esteem in which I hold Guibert's other two First Second books, Alan's War and The Photographer.  Really though, you'd never know that those books were by the same artist.

The Professor's Daughter is a very weird, although also weirdly compelling, story about the daughter of a stultifying professor in Victorian London.  She feels that her father, an Egyptologist, does not give her any freedom.  And so, when he is away one day, she decides to take the mummy of Pharaoh Imhotep IV, out on the town.  For his part, Imhotep is a willing participant, as he has become quite smitten with the young lady, who reminds him of his long-dead wife, who was not mummified, and is therefore lost to him.

The story is a screwball romance, with bumbling police, bottles of poison, and a surprise appearance by Queen Victoria herself.  Imhotep's father, Imhotep III shows up, wanting Lillian (the daughter) for himself, and much hilarity ensues.

This odd little story is disarmingly charming, as are Guibert's watercolours.  This is very much not my usual type of graphic novel, but I found myself enjoying it quite a bit.

Stuffed

Written by Glenn Eichler
Art by Nick Bertozzi

First Second really are unique publishers, putting out books that are quite different from the vast majority, and most minorities, of the comics world.  Stuffed is a very good example of what I'm coming to think of as the First Second house style (including books like Life Sucks and Refresh, Refresh), which to my mind consists of a well-told story about relationships (more likely to be familial than romantic) with some sort of unique twist or novel approach to it.

In Stuffed, our protagonist is Tim Johnston, a typical suburban nice guy family man.  He learns that his cantankerous and rather unliked father has died, and has left him very little.  While managing his estate, Tim learns that his father had held on to his museum of oddities, which had not been in operation for over twenty years.

Tim begins to obsess over one item in the museum - a statue of an African 'Savage', which the father had used to terrify Tim as a child.  He feels that the statue is of actual historic merit, and attempts to donate it to a museum.  As this process begins, he learns that the statue is in fact a stuffed, or taxidermied (I don't think that's a word) African man.  Tim now feels strongly that the Savage (now called the Warrior) should be repatriated, and works with an African-American curator to achieve this.  Things are going well, when Free, his half-brother arrives on the scene.

Free is the type of guy who should be played by Bill Murray.  He is an aging hippie who has a scar on his forehead from his self-trepanation experiment.  Free (née Ollie) mucks things up, and is the cause of much of the humour in the book.

And this book is quite funny.  There were more than a few scenes that were surprisingly amusing, as the two estranged brothers come to terms with the memory of their father and their own resentments towards each other.  This would make a great movie.

Bertozzi's art works really well here, as the story is perfect for a cartoon-style approach.  His dream sequences are quite funny.

Life Sucks

Written by Jessica Abel and Gabe Soria
Art by Warren Pleece

This is a fantastic little graphic novel that came out with very little fanfare, and was criminally overlooked.

Life Sucks is Twilight meets Clerks.  In the Life Sucks world, classic Old World vampires sire themselves slave to run their business empires while they hang out in a wood-paneled club-house hidden in a scary old castle.  Dave is stuck working for Lord (Radu) Arisztidescu at his all-night convenience store, where among other things, he sells 'Blood Beer' and 'Blood Orange Juice' to a certain select group of customers.  Dave has to do his master's bidding, and so he is trapped in this menial job.

One of his closest friends is a vampire working for one of Radu's friends, as his Wes, his nemesis.  Dave's roommate is not a vampire, but is fully aware of his friend's status as a 'vegetarian vampire', refusing to hunt and drinking only blood bank blood.  Dave has fallen hard for Rosa, a local Goth girl who festishizes vampire culture.

The majority of the story deals with Dave's building up the nerve to begin to talk to Rosa, only to have Wes declare his interest in her.  In many ways, this book reads like a very intelligent sitcom, with the rivals competing for the girl's attention.  There are tons of small touches that are quite amusing, and the characters are very likeable.

A lot of credit has to go to Warren Pleece, who has never failed to deliver when working on a character-driven comic.  This is a fun, and funny, book, which should be adapted into film or would work well as the basis of a television series.

Refresh Refresh

Written by Benjamin Percy, James Ponsoldt, and Danica Novgorodoff
Art by Danica Novgorodoff

First Second puts out some very interesting graphic novels.  This book is about a group of teen boys in a rural town whose fathers have left to fight in Iraq.  It's a military town; most families seem to be missing their men, and the boys are adrift now.  It's not so much that they are lacking their fathers' guidance - many young men get through that just fine - it's more that the uncertainty that has crept into their lives is working like a cancer.  It's not knowing what's happening or what the future holds that eats away at them, and causes them to act strangely.

The three boys at the heart of this book, Josh, Cody, and Gordon, box with each other constantly, trying to build up a level of toughness.  They also sneak into bars, try to pick up older women, and hunt in the woods (the ease with which these kids use guns surprises me, but I'm looking at things from an urban Canadian perspective).  They also check their e-mails constantly, looking for some sort of message or update from their fathers.

This graphic novel is based on a screenplay that is based on a short story, and it looks at a very modern aspect of warfare; the prominence of communication technology.  In the first and second world wars, or even in Vietnam, it would take some time for letters to arrive from the front lines.  Now that communication is instantaneous, it is hard not to read the worst into prolonged silences.  These kids know that their fathers have the ability to telephone or e-mail, and so when they don't, it gnaws at them.

This is a touching story, with decent, unpretentious art.  Novgorodoff captures the essence of these kids' waning youth, and the difficulty of the choices they have to make.  I thought the ending was brilliant.

Prime Baby

by Gene Luen Yang

This is definitely not the usual type of book that I like to buy, as it is written for a younger audience.  However, I really enjoyed Yang's other work, such as American Born Chinese and The Eternal Smile, and figured that since this is a relatively inexpensive book, it was worth taking a chance on.

The comic strips collected here (this book reminds me a lot of those old Garfield collections I used to read as a kid in it's formatting) at the pace of four or five panels a page were originally published in the New York Times Magazine, and tell the story of young Thaddeus, a third grader with dreams of world domination.  When Thaddeus's little sister Maddie is born, he suffers some serious sibling rivalry issues, and becomes convinced that she is an alien baby.

As it turns out, he's not far off the mark, as small slug-like aliens start coming out of her mouth.  Thaddeus prepares to go to war, figuring this is the opportunity for global takeover he's been looking for, but sadly, the aliens are emissaries of smiles and happy feelings.  Hilarity ensues.

Yang has a very charming style.  It is hard to resist the charms of his characters and his simple drawings.  This book is not anywhere near as good as American Born Chinese was, but it is a fun little read.

The Photographer

by Emmanuel Guibert and Didier Lefèvre

From the first time I saw this gorgeously-designed book, I knew I wanted to read it. I'd enjoyed Guibert's 'Alan's War', and I had more than a passing interest in the subject matter. I figured I'd enjoy the book, but was instead blown away by it.

'The Photographer' tells the story of Didier Lefèvre, a French photographer who was hired by Medécins sans frontières (MSF) to accompany a group of doctors into Afghanistan in 1986, with the purpose of documenting their work. Due to the war with the Soviet Union, Lefèvre and company, including a large number of mujahideen fighters, must cross into the country on foot and through treacherous mountain passes, often at night to escape Soviet detection and bombing.

Once in Afghanistan, the team set about treating local villagers, both for typical ailments and for war wounds. Later, Lefèvre decides to return to Pakistan alone, and in this section, the book becomes quite harrowing, as he has to deal, in incredibly poor Dari, with lazy guides, bad weather, and racketeers.

The book consists of many of Lefèvre's photos, surrounded by Guibert's comics. It is an incredibly effective approach. In some scenes, it reads like fumetti, but for most of the book, the photos, which capture the landscape in all its rugged beauty (and the people in theirs') compliment the story to a great degree, adding a touch of realism to the whole thing.
Lefèvre is an incredible person, but the doctors of MSF come across as the true heroes of the book, especially Juliette, who leads the expedition. She is able to command the respect of the men she comes across, even entering into a brotherhood alliance with one powerful Afghani wakil. Her strength, flexibility, and determination are what makes everything seen in the book possible.

The one thing that this book does not shy away from is the sheer difficulty of life in Afghanistan at that time. Lefèvre is pushed to the limits of what his body can handle, and it is clear that Afghanis are some of the toughest people on the Earth. I work with a number of Afghani children (and their families), and this book has provided me with some insight into their character and development.

This graphic novel also brought to mind William Vollmann's first book, "The Afghanistan Picture Show", in which he chronicles his time with the Mujahideen. Had Lefèvre come across Vollmann on a high mountain pass, I would not have been surprised.
This beautiful book is highly recommended.

The Eternal Smile

by Gene Luen Yang and Derek Kirk Kim

I really enjoyed Yang's "American Born Chinese" earlier in the summer, so when I saw this at a reduced price at Word on the Street a couple of months ago (I need more time to read), I figured it was a safe buy.

The Eternal Smile is made up of three unrelated stories. They are all very well done, but I'm not sure that they really belong in the same book. The first two, by Yang, have a young-adult feel to them, while the story by Kim is much more mature in tone and content.

In 'Duncan's Kingdom', Yang is riffing on the old CBC series "The Odyssey," which I realize might be a spoiler for some. Duncan wants to be hero and marry the princess, but he can't keep himself from being entranced by a bottle of cola, with interesting consequences. Like in 'American Born Chinese', Yang pulls out a nice little twist at the end, and delivers a subtle and compelling story.

The second story can be summed up as 'Scrooge McDuck as a frog on the Truman Show'. It's a cool concept, especially in the way in which Yang plays with themes of faith, but I felt like it was aimed a little younger than I'm used to.

The story by Kim, "Urgent Request" is another subtle piece of storytelling. Sad, lonely Janet responds to an e-mail from a 'Nigerian prince' looking for money to help funnel millions into the US. She strikes up a correspondance with this prince, and enters into a rich, imaginary life with him. This story is touching and sad, and although Kim's tiny four-panel to a page format bothered me in the beginning, I grew to appreciate how he played with layout later in the book.

All of these stories hold up quite well on their own, but I still feel that they don't work that well together. As individual (longer) pieces in an anthology like Popgun, they would be some of the stand-outs in the book.

American Born Chinese

by Gene Luen Yang

This is a charming, great book. Yang starts the book by telling three very different stories, although by the end of the book, he weaves them together in an unexpected, and masterful, way.

The first story is about the Monkey King, who wants more than anything to be recognized by the gods as an equal. To that end, he masters many different forms of kung fu, and ends up challenging Tze-Yo-Tzuh, the god of all things.

The second story is about Jin, the American born Chinese of the title. We follow Jin from early childhood through junior high, as he deals with being the only Chinese boy at his school, at least until Wei Chen arrives from Taiwan. Jin develops feelings for a girl in his class, but her friends don't want her dating a Chinese boy.

The third story is about a white boy named Danny, who is overly concerned with appearances, and who is visited every year by his Chinese cousin, Chin-Kee. Chin-Kee is as yellow as the cover, buck-toothed, pony-tailed, and embodies every other racial stereotype you can think of. He speaks in broken English (r's and l's are a problem), and has no understanding of social mores. This section of the book is designed like a TV sitcom, complete with applause and a laugh track.

As these three stories meld, the book takes on themes of identity, friendship, and self-esteem. Yang works with a light hand, and doesn't beat the reader over the head with any of this. The art in the book is very nice. It's quite simple and uncomplicated, and Yang, using a minimum of lines, achieves great effectiveness in conveying his characters' thoughts and emotions. I'm impressed by the quality of this book.