Sally Heathcote Suffragette

Written by Mary M. Talbot
Art by Kate Charlesworth and Bryan Talbot 

I'll be the first to admit that I knew almost nothing about the struggle to gain women the vote in Great Britain.  I'm a little more familiar with the Canadian struggle, which to my knowledge, was neither so protracted, nor so bloody.

In Sally Heathcote, Suffragette, Mary M. Talbot uses a fictional character to explain and explore the various and fractious groups that fought for decades to get the vote, and the beginnings of some respect as equals, for women.  We meet the upper class women who threw themselves into the movement, as well as some of the lower class women, like Sally, who joined them and sacrificed much to gain enfranchisement.

Beyond demonstrating and publishing newsletters, the women used violence to further their cause.  I was surprised to see campaigns of window smashing and even the firebombing of the Prime Minister's unoccupied home.  As well, I was surprised to learn about how these women entered into a revolving system of imprisonment, hunger strikes, torturous force feedings, and eventual release, only to start all over again at the next possible demonstration.

Talbot's Sally has a strong narrative voice, and reports as much on the internecine rifts within the movement as on the advancement towards their goals.  Of course, it is the coming of war that led to increased opportunities for women, as men were either away or killed in such numbers that women needed to take on many of their social roles.

The art team of Kate Charlesworth and Bryan Talbot works great.  The washes of colour on high quality paper make this book really stand out, and the artists (I'm not that clear on who did what) imbue each character with a great deal of personality.  No one radiates displeasure like Mrs. Pankhurst.

This was a great book shining a light on a topic rarely seen in comics.

Grandville Bête Noire

by Bryan Talbot

Bryan Talbot's Grandville stories are always a delight, and the third in the series, Bête Noir, is no exception.

These large graphic albums could have easily gone off the rails, buried under the weight of Tablot's central concept, but instead, these books are very well realized, gripping and beautiful adventure stories.

In the world of Grandville, Paris is the most important city in the world.  It has recently shaken off Napoleonic control, and is moving towards democracy.  England has been independent of French control for only about twenty years.  Talking animals are the ruling class, while humans (not so affectionately called 'doughfaces') make up a servant underclass, although they are beginning to advocate for their rights.  Oh, Talbot has embraced 'steampunk' ideals in designing this world.

Into this mix, we get the machinations of Baron Krapaud, an immensely rich toad, who would like very much to see democracy not gain a foothold in Paris.  He has a plan involving discrediting representational fine arts in favour of the abstract, and in placing automaton soldiers throughout the city to do his bidding.  I know that those two things don't really go together, but Talbot makes it all make sense, rather wonderfully.

Inspector LeBrock, our usual hero, gets involved when a French detective comes to him for help in solving a closed-door mystery, the murder of an artist set to design an important mural.  LeBrock and his associate, Roderick, make their way to Grandville, and waste little time in getting involved in the intrigue.

Talbot pays homage to James Bond films in this volume, as well as to the Wind in the Willows, through his choice of villain.  I enjoyed the depth of thought put into this book, as well as Talbot's always amazing artwork.  For such a short book, Talbot packs in a lot of information, and character development, by way of finally giving us a closer look at LeBrock's past, as he and the high-class prostitute Billie.  Talbot sets up the next volume (presumably) by letting us know that his greatest enemy is about to be released from prison.

I cannot recommend this book, and this series in general, enough.  It is a very solid read.

Dotter of her Fathers Eyes

Written by Mary M. Talbot
Art by Bryan Talbot

I've never had a lot of interest in the writing of James Joyce, and have only ever read A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man back when I was in university, but I am always interested in seeing how comics can intersect with the academic world, and I have long been a fan of Bryan Talbot's work.

Dotter of Her Father's Eyes is written by Talbot's wife, Mary.  She is the daughter of James S. Atherton, a renowned Joyce scholar, and, apparently, a difficult man to get along with.  Growing up, Atherton was a complicated presence in Mary's life.  In some ways, she longed to please him, but in others, she found his intransigence painful.  So, in other words, she was a typical daughter to a typical father, especially considering we are talking about post-War Britain.

To prove the commonality of her story, it is told in parallel to that of Lucia Joyce, the daughter of James Joyce, who was subject to her family's nomadic and penniless ways, and who was forced to put a successful dancing and teaching career on hold because of familial obligations.  The two women's stories unfold in such a way as to look for lines of intersection, but the telling difference is that where Mary ended up marrying Bryan and becoming a successful academic, Lucia ended up in a string of asylums.

This is a very personal work, made even more so by the fact that the artist is married to the writer.  There are a couple of places where Mary includes small notes to disagree with the way Bryan has pictured events, and these add to the sense of accuracy that this book carries.  Mary shows a strong sense of self-awareness, and Bryan keeps his art clear and more minimal, avoiding the lush work we are used to seeing from him in his Grandville graphic novels.

This book was well worth reading, and provided some insight into the lives of the brilliant.

Grandville Mon Amour

by Bryan Talbot

The second of Bryan Talbot's Grandville graphic novels is perhaps more enjoyable than the first, since the world of Detective-Inspector LeBrock is established, and Talbot has a little more time and space to craft his story and characters.

Grandville Mon Amour is set in a world where Napoleon had taken over all of Europe.  England has recently won its independence from France after a long and bloody insurgency campaign, and the country is now poised to appoint its Prime Minister for the last number of years as President for life, a choice that many find odd.  These graphic novels fit in the steampunk genre, and LeBrock's world is full of steam-powered machines and odd technology.  Also, everyone is a talking animal, and while each species appears to only mate with their own kind, there doesn't appear to be much in the way of outright speciesism (racism?).

As this book opens, Mad Dog Mastock, a notorious serial killer and former resistance fighter makes his escape while on the way to the guillotine.  Our hero, DI LeBrock, is wallowing in guilt from the events of the first graphic novel, but when he hears that Mastock is loose, he demands that he be put on the case, as he is the one that brought the dog down in the first place.  His insistence gets him suspended, but in no time he is off to Grandville (Paris), with his partner Rodders, to track down Mastock on his own.  Mastock has been killing prostitutes there, but LeBrock begins to discover a pattern and method behind the killings that go beyond his usual depravities.

The story follows through a few twists and turns (a couple of them were kind of predictable, admittedly), and the story is much larger than a simple case of an escaped serial killer.  LeBrock, still stinging from the loss of his Sarah, ends up falling for another lovely female badger (how many of them could there be?), and Talbot keeps a romantic undercurrent flowing through the book.

As interesting as the story is, Talbot's art is the big draw here.  He's always been a remarkably detailed artist, but the pages of this book are lovely.  His animal characters and their environment are very believable, and the steampunk touches he's added are often fascinating.  This is a very accomplished book, and I recommend it.

Grandville

by Bryan Talbot

Bryan Talbot is one of those people I feel I should be reading more of.  His The Tale of One Bad Rat is a brilliant comic, but I've never dipped in to his other works, like Alice In Sunderland or The Adventures Of Luther Arkwright.  After reading Grandville, I feel like it may be time to put more effort in to tracking down the rest of his output.

Grandville is easily described as an anthropomorphized steam-punk detective alternate history thriller.  If Sherlock Holmes were a badger serving with Scotland Yard in an England that lost the Napoleonic Wars, he would quite likely have been Detective Inspector LeBrock. 

This is a more or less straight-forward detective comic.  When LeBrock discovers that a British cultural attaché has been found dead in his cottage of an apparent suicide, he quickly realizes that something else has happened.  His suspicions take him Grandville, which is Paris, and his investigations soon bring all sorts of trouble his way, as he uncovers a plot that goes all the way to the top of the French Empire to plunge England into war with France once again. 

Visually, the book is fascinating.  It's an homage to the nineteenth century artist whose pen-name was Grandville.  Talbot has filled the book with all sorts of talking, walking animals, and has even included a few dough-faces (in other words, humans).  He's also made good use of the steampunk aesthetic, creating steam-powered vehicles and automatons. 

The mystery moves at a very good pace, and the characters are witty and interesting.  The size of the book, modeled after French graphic novels, is very inviting.  Great stuff.

The Unwritten #31.5

Written by Mike Carey
Art by Michael Wm. Kaluta, Rick Geary, and Bryan Talbot

The Unwritten is being published on a bi-weekly basis for the next few months, with every second issue being given a '.5' number.  The purpose of this is to tell some of the stories of The Cabal (apparently called The Unwritten Cabal, as we have learned in this issue), and their mainstay Pullman.

This issue has three stories, each illustrated by a terrific guest artist.  Mike Kaluta takes us to China in 221BC, when an emperor has demanded the burning of books and scrolls that may 'confuse thought'.  It seems that it is Pullman who is tasked with carrying out the inspections of schools and monasteries, and we learn that the man hasn't changed much in the last two thousand years.

Rick Geary draws a story about Homer Davenport, a cartoonist for William Randolph Hearst's New York Journal set in 1881.  Davenport's story is reminiscent of the Rudyard Kipling issue of this series a couple of years ago, as he has been co-opted by the Cabal.  He's thinking of exposing them through his art (which he believes is largely responsible for America declaring war on Spain, but is dissuaded from this course of action.  I love Geary's art, which is perfectly suited for the conversation he draws here.

Finally, the issue ends with Bryan Talbot showing a confrontation between Gutenberg, the man who invented the printing press, and an agent of the Cabal in 1462.  At the heart of their dispute?  The fact that cheap, affordable books will encourage people to learn to read.  This turns out to be a real watershed moment for the Cabal, as they realise that they have to embrace the new technology instead of oppose it.

This is a very cool issue of this comic.  I would like to see some longer stories in these .5 issues, but I am happy with the direction that this book is going in.  Originally, it felt like a bit of a cash grab on Vertigo's part (similar to Marvel's recent policy of double-shipping titles all the time), but I can see how it's going to enhance the stories in this series.

The Tale of One Bad Rat

by Bryan Talbot

I remember reading this series when it was originally published by Dark Horse back in the early 90's, and I still have the original issues in a box somewhere, but when I realized I could add the trade to another purchase on Ebay for a dollar or two, I felt the need to read it again.

I haven't read much of Talbot's work.  I've yet to check out Grandville, Alice in Sunderland, or Luther Arkwright, and re-reading this book tonight, I have to wonder why I've deprived myself.  This guy is incredibly talented and nuanced.

The Tale of One Bad Rat is all about Helen, a young British girl who has run away from home to escape the abuse she's been suffering at the hands of her father for years.  She has all the classical signs of an abused child - lack of trust, fear of physical contact - and her only friend is a pet rat.

Helen has always had a strong like for (or fixation on) the work of Beatrix Potter, who she shares many qualities and circumstances with.  As the book progresses, Helen leaves London for the countryside, and faces down her fears and demons.  The book does transcend the typical 'survivor's memoir' types of stories that have become so fashionable in the fifteen years since its publications, and gives us an interesting story, made all the better with Talbot's art.

Highly recommended.