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From the stack: SWAN Vol. 1

April 1, 2006 by

When I was in college, one of my closest friends liked to describe herself as a “recovering ballerina.” She transferred from a dance academy into the theatre program after a knee injury essentially ended her career. She was a tremendous actress, incredibly bright, generous, and she could play damaged, edge-of-sanity characters like nobody’s business. She was the kind of actress who made everyone she acted with better and didn’t torment them in the process.

She also completely deglamorized the world of ballet for me. She clearly missed dancing, but her feelings about the process and environment were ambivalent to say the least. The competitiveness, the exhaustion, and the frantic emotion that made the theatre department look positively serene by comparison inspired rueful fondness at best, mystified relief that she’d survived the experience at worst.

I thought about her a lot when reading the first volume of Ariyoshi Kyoko’s classic ballet manga Swan (CMX). It captures some of the urgency she attributed the experience, but it does it in such a purely shôjo context that it’s hard not to be swept away. Who cares if these dancers are as fragile as racehorses and they’re living on the razor’s edge of health and ambition and success? They’re all so crazy in love with ballet that it’s impossible not to get caught up in it all.

What I really admire about the book is the way it appropriates shônen constructs. Talented amateur Masumi loves ballet, and she wants to excel. She doesn’t necessarily want to be a star so much as to be the best ballerina she can be. She’s surrounded by friendly rivals who share the same goal but ultimately respect her passion more than envy her successes. There are intense mentors who balance demanding regimens with genuine kindness. From a structural point of view, it could just as easily be about basketball or Go or fighting demons.

But it’s about ballet, first and last. There are hints of romance and the prospect of escalating interpersonal tensions, but the consistent driver is a love of ballet and a desire to elevate it by mastering the balance of artistic expression and athleticism. Every page teems with passion, and it could come off as ridiculous if you aren’t indoctrinated into shôjo’s emotional extremes.

I am, so I found it all to be a breathtaking page-turner. It moves at an absolute clip, which is only appropriate given the intensity and often short duration of a dancer’s career. The characters are trying to move a very great distance in a very short time, and Swan conveys this without sacrificing the swirling visuals and searing emotional moments.

It’s hard to believe that it was originally published 30 years ago. Sometimes classics take on a musty, of-their-period quality that you have to filter out. Swan has such utter sincerity and directness that it’s really not necessary. It’s still great, and I can’t wait to read more of it.

(This review is based on a complimentary copy provided by CMX.)

Filed under: CMX, From the stack 3 Comments

From the stack: MAN ENOUGH: a queer romance

March 28, 2006 by

I could be a serious mini-comic junkie if more of them were available locally. One of the major pleasures of SPX was being able to gorge myself on them and discover the work of creators like Bill Burg, Justin Hall, and Raina Telgemeier.

Another SPX encounter popped up in my in-box when I got an e-mail from Bill Roundy offering me a copy of his new mini-comic, Man Enough: a queer romance. It’s a really charming date comedy that makes excellent use of the short-story format.

Man Enough begins with David and Ethan meeting at a party. They flirt, connect, and make a date, even though David is a bit startled by the fact that Ethan is a pre-operative female-to-male transsexual. They chat with friends about the impending date, disguising their mutual infatuation with low expectations.

The date itself consumes much of the book. David’s instant attraction to Ethan is at odds with his preconceptions about what he’s looking for in a romantic partner. Ethan just wants to enjoy the evening without the hassle of playing “Trans 101 educator.”

It’s a nice conundrum for the characters, but Man Enough happily emphasizes the romantic elements. David and Ethan’s preconceptions and defenses fall away as the date progresses, and their initial connection overcomes their individual anxieties. It’s sweet, funny, and uplifting without being the slightest bit preachy.

Roundy has a wonderful way with dialogue and pacing. David and Ethan are both vivid characters, and there’s a really nice balance to the way they’re portrayed individually and together. Roundy isn’t as good an illustrator as he is a writer, but he does nice work with facial expressions. They really help sell the emotional arc and the individual beats.

Man Enough is a really fine example of one of the things a mini-comic creator can do – flesh out a quirky, personal story in a short format without losing any of the emotional layers. I liked it a lot.

(Man Enough: a queer romance will debut at the Alternative Press Expo April 8 and 9. It also features a full-color back-up strip written by Roundy and illustrated by Tim Fish, originally published by Young Bottoms in Love at www.popimage.com.)

Filed under: From the stack, Mini-comics 3 Comments

From the stack: GRAY HORSES

March 15, 2006 by

I’m not quite sure how to approach Hope Larson’s Gray Horses (Oni), which arrives in comic shops today. Conventional critical language doesn’t seem quite right, not because the book is so wildly experimental as to make that approach inadequate, or that it can’t withstand that kind of scrutiny.

The difficulty reminds me of high-school English class, of all things. The constant, structured hunt for symbolism and meaning seemed designed to make students never want to read a book again, at least not for pleasure. And if a book did resonate, the sensation had usually faded by the time the final essays had been handed back. There didn’t seem to be any space to actually feel anything about the books.

And Larson’s work deserves so much better than the kind of critique I usually crank out. Gray Horses seems less like a graphic novel than a confidence between friends. It’s a soothing, generous experience that I think will vary greatly from reader to reader. It’s got its own voice, but it also invites readers to chime in with their own.

Larson has a wonderful way of communicating a sensory experience – the smell of lilacs, the warmth of sunlight on skin, or the lulling rumble of a train. She’s also gifted at showing how those sensations interact with emotion and memory. Waking moments can take on a dreamlike feel, while the portrayal of actual dreams can have an unexpected clarity and urgency.

When the protagonist, exchange student Noémie, dozes on a train, I’m in the moment, but I’m also remembering similar instances from my own life when I was exploring someplace new. When she calls an old boyfriend in the wee hours of the morning, it’s recognizably wistful and awkward, as the words curve and tangle across the page. It’s all so different but so familiar, like déjà vu rendered in black, white, and tan.

I feel kind of badly for the person who had to write the back-cover text, because Gray Horses seems impossible to summarize in a paragraph, or at all. I’d have been tempted to say, “Just read it. Trust me.”

Because no matter what I say about it, I don’t think any other reader will have precisely the same response. Larson seems to have met me exactly halfway, leaving warm and comfortable room for my own thoughts, feelings, and memories. And that’s a wonderful thing to be able to say about a graphic novel.

(These comments are based on a preview copy from Oni Press that arrived last night, roughly 24 hours before I’ll pick up the copy that I pre-ordered through the comic shop. That means I have one to give away, so watch for a mini-contest in the next couple of days.)

Filed under: From the stack, Oni Leave a Comment

From the stack: Go! Comi sampler

March 9, 2006 by

I think I’m going to have to reserve judgement on Shioko Mizuki’s Crossroad (Go! Comi). There are lots of nice moments in the first volume, but as a whole, it’s all over the place.

The death of 16-year-old Kajitsu’s grandmother leads to an extended family reunion. Kajitsu’s hopelessly irresponsible mother Rumiko shows up, as do Kajitsu’s two step-brothers, 20-year-old goofball Taro and 16-year-old Natsu. Kajitsu hasn’t seen any of them in years, and lots of old resentments crop up. Things get worse when Rumiko vanishes again, leaving another step-sibling (cute grade-schooler Satsuki) in their care.

Left with few other choices and not entirely happy about it, the kids decide to stick together, mostly for Satsuki’s sake. The process of reaching that decision is complicated, with Taro demonstrating a surprising nasty streak. Kajitsu is also shocked that chubby, sweet Natsu has turned sleek and cold (and smart and popular) during his absence. The beats that come out of all this are alternately funny, sad, angry, weird, and tense.

They aren’t entirely coherent, though. It seems like Mizuki is spending most of the first volume finding her tone, fishing around until she finds one that suits. There isn’t really a cumulative effect from beginning to end. Something similar happens with most of the characters as well, though Kajitsu is a solid, consistent presence.

She’s also interesting and sympathetic enough to make me curious to see what happens to her next. She’s understandably angry and withdrawn, still dealing with abandonment and other losses, but she’s also very cautiously open to life’s possibilities. Kajitsu is the one element of Crossroad that really holds together, and I’m invested enough in her to want to see what happens next.

*

I liked the nasty edge of the first volume of Takako Shigematsu’s Tenshi Ja Nai!! (Go! Comi). Things are a little smoother and sweeter in the second, but it’s still an entertaining read.

Closed-off Hikaru is helping schoolmate and pop idol Izumi keep a secret: he’s a boy pretending to be a girl to hold on to a lucrative career as a model and actress. Izumi and bodyguard Yasukuni initially had to blackmail Hikaru into helping, but the scheming duo has grown on Hikaru as she learns more about their motives and backgrounds.

Now, she’s a willing part of the conspiracy, though she isn’t particularly thrilled about the unwanted attention that comes with her role. She’s also got another distraction in the form of a handsome, romance-novel-ready music teacher named Ayase. Hikaru has to balance life as Izumi’s assistant and accessory, a budding and forbidden crush, and a steady stream of jealous and curious outside parties.

It’s fun stuff, a nice mix of mistaken identity comedy, complicated romance, and coming-of-age drama. Shigematsu gives more depth to her three protagonists and does an equally nice job introducing orbital characters like Ayase, mean girl Shiori, and self-proclaimed ladies’ man Kurobe, a co-star with romantic designs on Izumi.

Tenshi Ja Nai!! bustles along, throwing new twists at its characters with every chapter while deepening their relationships. I like it a lot.

*

Speaking of Go! Comi, they’ve announced two new titles, Night of the Beasts and After School Nightmare. (I love the title of the latter.) David Taylor mentioned this development a couple of days ago, then Franklin Harris linked to the official confirmation.

Filed under: From the stack, Go! Comi 4 Comments

From the stack: MOUSE GUARD: BELLY OF THE BEAST #1

February 23, 2006 by

When new issues of Paris (SLG) and Polly and the Pirates come out, I’m tempted to say the same things over again – that Paris is lovely to look at and Polly is an engaging, all-ages adventure. Both apply to this month’s chapters, too, but for variety’s sake, I’ll say that both are also true of the first issue of David Petersen’s Mouse Guard: Belly of the Beast (Archaia Studios Press).

Petersen has a wonderful premise here. The Mouse Guard protects the safety of the citizens of various mouse settlements, forging safe paths between them to allow trade and travel. Once soldiers, they’re more rangers now, though they’re fully capable of handling dangerous situations.

Petersen introduces the Guard with a minimum of fuss. There’s some introductory text that provides an overview, and it’s useful, but I particularly like the way he illustrates the Guard’s function in the story. It’s almost a day-in-the-life tale, showing members of the Guard investigating the disappearance of a grain trader. There’s very little exposition, with Petersen choosing instead to let action and character do the world-building.

It’s a nice balance between telling (the opening text) and showing (the story itself). Neither makes the other redundant, and they support each other very well. Petersen also uses the initial adventure to alert the guard to a larger danger, building interest in future chapters. It’s wonderfully modulated storytelling — a satisfying adventure that feeds into something bigger.

It’s also gorgeous. Petersen does a wonderful job with character design. It’s an appealing mix of realism (they look like mice) and fantasy (but mice with capes and swords). Backgrounds are lush, and action sequences are tense and imaginative. As strong as the illustrations are, they’re taken to an even higher level by Petersen’s use of color. Petersen uses a rich palette to help show the passage of time, from day to night to day again, grounding the scenes and contributing to mood.

Mouse Guard #1 is a really appealing introduction to this six-part series. It’s got the full package – solid story, wonderful art, and imaginative presentation.

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From the stack: I ♥ MARVEL: MARVEL AI

February 17, 2006 by

C.B. Cebulski joins with three Japanese artists for three tales of super-hero romance in I ♥ Marvel: Marvel Ai (Marvel). It’s a bit of an oddity, but it’s a mostly pleasant one.

Cebulski and Tomoko Taniguchi team for “Meld with You,” a look at the Scarlet Witch’s first date with the Vision. This classic Marvel couple gets the full-tilt shôjo treatment, with borders and backgrounds swirling with flowers and stars. Cebulski provides a sensitive script that explores the couple’s early concerns and conflicts – can the android’s emotions be genuine, or are they a calculated response? Taniguichi’s adorable illustrations are a nice counterpoint to the deep feelings on display. (It is a little odd to see the Black Widow jammed into the role of Wanda’s giggly school chum, along with the Wasp, but it’s consistent with the shôjo vibe.)

There’s a decided Moto Hagio feeling to “The Silence of the Heart,” a look at the unusual challenges of marriage from the perspective of Medusa, queen of the Inhumans. Kei Kobayashi takes maximum visual advantage of Medusa’s swirling, living locks as she contemplates life with a husband, Black Bolt, who can never speak to her. It’s a lovely string of internal musings in a science fiction context.

How much you like “Love Is Blindness” will depend on how much you like jealousy-driven catfights. I don’t like them at all, so watching the Black Widow and Elektra in a rooftop throw-down over Daredevil doesn’t do much for me. Cebulski and illustrator Toga opt for pictograms instead of dialogue, which doesn’t really elevate things very much. (I keep calling the story Owly: Just a Little Bitchy in my head.)

Even with that, and the frankly bizarre anatomy on Gez Fry’s cover, there’s still a lot to like in the book. Cebulski and his collaborators have taken an unusual but often moving look at some classic Marvel couples.

Filed under: From the stack, Marvel Leave a Comment

From the stack: NORTHWEST PASSAGE 2

February 16, 2006 by

The second volume of Scott Chantler’s Northwest Passage (Oni) plunges along while raising the levels of action, danger, and interpersonal conflict. It’s even better than the first, which I thought was very, very good.

Adventurer-turned-bureaucrat Charles Lord is turned out of Fort Newcastle by his vicious longtime nemesis, Guerin Montglave. As a small band of survivors races to safety, Lord searches through Rupert’s Land for reinforcements from his exploring days. Meanwhile, back at the captured fort, Montglave assumes brutal control and tries to manipulate Lord’s resentful half-Cree son, Simon.

Yes, I just used the phrase, “Meanwhile, back at the captured fort…” And you know what? I meant it. It’s that kind of book, and it’s very satisfying.

While Chantler did a fine job with a great deal of exposition in the first chapter, it’s nice to have it out of the way so he can focus more on story and character. He packs a lot of both into 88 pages, filling in detail on the histories and interpersonal dynamics of his cast while providing plenty of “Pulse-Pounding Western Action,” as the cover promises.

Chantler continues with his subtle exploration of Lord’s successes and failures as a leader. It’s a relevant thematic thread, but it isn’t an overwhelming one. Chantler never pulls out the Message Hammer, thanks in part to his willingness to acknowledge Lord’s flaws. The juxtaposition of “good” Lord and “evil” Montglave is more effective because of the things they have in common as authority figures.

At the same time, he layers the story with historical detail. Chantler informs events with observations about class, race, politics, and commerce, which make things even more satisfying. Northwest Passage is first and foremost an adventure comic, but it takes full advantage of its period and setting.

Chantler’s work as an illustrator is sterling, but that’s not surprising. His appealingly open style has proved to be wonderfully flexible, suiting a wide variety of stories and tones. Northwest Passage is no exception. There’s genuine excitement in the adventure scenes, tension to the suspense, and nuance in the character-driven moments.

What’s more surprising is that this is Chantler’s writing debut. It’s a rich, exciting story with a great balance of narrative elements.

Filed under: From the stack, Oni 1 Comment

From the stack: THE TICKING

February 9, 2006 by

Did you ever come across one of those graphic novels that you admired tremendously but couldn’t quite decide if you liked? It’s a conundrum, because in the case of Reneé French’s The Ticking (Top Shelf Productions), whether or not I like it seems kind of trivial. I’m not even convinced that it wants to evoke that kind of simplistic response.

At the same time, it isn’t one of those books where you can smell the hunger for importance and weight. It isn’t some grabby, Oscar-bait comic, slathered with relevance and depth (though the marketing leans in that direction). It’s much more precise in its effect, and that effect is both familiar and unsettling.

It’s got the rhythms of a children’s book and something of the jarring tone of an early David Lynch film. But it isn’t comforting as the former or alienating as the latter. It occupies its own frank ground. French doesn’t really seem to want to disturb you too badly, but she doesn’t want to lie to you, either.

She follows the life of Edison Steelhead, a boy born with facial deformities. His mother dies during childbirth, and his father, Cal, moves with his son to an isolated island. Cal might be trying to protect Edison from the cruelty of other people, or he might just be caught up in his own pain and embarrassment, or maybe it’s a mixture of both.

Edison is thoughtful and observant, like French. He spends his days sketching mundane, even grotesque objects, not to beautify them but to record them and perhaps understand them. As Cal tries to conceal and alter Edison’s appearance, Edison becomes increasingly dedicated to accuracy (or honesty). He respects things as they are. (This even extends to the chimpanzee Cal brings home as a sort of sister for Edison. She understands things by eating them.)

The conflict between father and son is profound, but French never overstates it. She simply presents it with a weird kind of delicacy, using just a smattering of dialogue and narration. The emotional arc of the story, which is really all there is, seems to arrive in an almost off-handed way. There aren’t any flashes of naked despair or conventional uplift so much as captured moments that create a cumulative effect. It’s a fascinating approach, and it fuses perfectly with the visuals.

French’s illustrations straddle the line between endearing and bizarre. She looks unflinchingly at Edison’s disfigurement, though she almost discreetly averts here eyes from Cal’s pain. It’s a poignant visual representation of their different perspectives, the individual ways they’ve chosen to deal with life. She does lush, varied work with tones and shading. It adds depth and texture to the illustrations, grounding her odd, ugly characters in something almost normal.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a graphic novel that was so much of a piece. Words and images are perfectly in balance with story and tone. Every element serves every other element in some interlocking way. At the same time, there are enough contradictions in the work that it doesn’t seem static or pat. It’s creepy and sweet, funny and haunting, honest and sad.

Looking over what I’ve just written, I think The Ticking isn’t really something you can simply like or dislike. It’s much more elemental than that.

(Thanks to Greg McElhatton for sharing his preview copy of the book.)

Filed under: From the stack, Top Shelf Leave a Comment

From the stack: NOTHING BETTER 2 and 3

February 5, 2006 by

This isn’t quite a retraction, per se, because I stand by what I said about Nothing Better #1. But I’m very, very happy to see that Tyler Page is focusing more on incisive observations of college life than highly charged confrontations between members of his cast of students.

Having read the second and third issues of Nothing Better online, I’m delighted to find a sharp, thoughtful, character-driven comic that explores spiritual themes from a variety of perspectives. As much fun as the occasional histrionics of the first issue were, those moments pale in comparison to the smart, detailed character work of the subsequent installments.

And characters move to the forefront in issues two and three, with Jane and Katt navigating around their initial misunderstandings and trying to handle the big and small issues that come with living on your own for the first time. Part-time jobs, the cost of books, what happens when you die – all are addressed in ways that are frank, subtle, and specific to the people involved. (Page even manages to do credible, engaging renderings of the act of teaching, which is right up there with journalism in terms of professions that have been mangled by comics.)

I can’t say I’ll ever be crazy about reading comics online. I like to be able to see each page as a whole and to hold it in my hands. But I’m very glad that Page has made the books available in this way, because it lets me follow his cast as it evolves and matures.

Filed under: From the stack, Webcomics 1 Comment

From the stack: YURI MONOGATARI Vol. 3

January 25, 2006 by

While yaoi is making considerable headway in the manga market, yuri is taking a bit longer to make its mark. ALC Publishing specializes in the category. I really enjoyed ALC’s release of Rica ‘tte Kanji!?, a charming romantic comedy.

Their latest anthology, Yuri Monogatari Vol. 3, is hit and miss. A collection of stories from Japan, America, and Europe, it features some promising talent. As a whole, it gives off a vaguely amateurish vibe, and while the enthusiasm is infectious, the actual work is of mixed quality.

It opens with Hiromi Nishizaka’s “Hydrangea.” I’ve heard that a lot of yuri is kind of a bummer, with tortured love ending badly for all parties. Nishizaka does interesting work constructing a complex love triangle, and she resist the urge to tie things up neatly. But it’s a depressing way to launch the book, with tears, selfishness, and cynicism.

Things lighten up considerably with Beth Malone’s “It Takes All Sorts.” A longtime couple, who happen to be space pirates, are determined to get the spice back in their relationship. They set off in search of a third party to perk things up, and run-ins with a tentacle monster, a kinky telepath, and an androgynous space cop ensue. It sounds like the worst kind of porn, but Malone’s light touch turns it into light parody. Unfortunately, her illustrations are pretty crude and feature some weird anatomy and odd perspectives.

Another couple is the focus of “Flights of Fancy” by Sergio Aviles. Regan and Angela are taking turns framing their relationship through classic movie genres. Aviles puts his protagonists in an action flick, a detective noir, a western, and a swashbuckling adventure. It’s visually impressive, and the idea is a lot of fun, but the reader never knows enough about the protagonists to get much out of their fantasy versions. There are also some lettering problems in the piece, with dialogue breaking oddly over word balloons without attention to phrasing.

Akiko Morishima provides a cute illustrated report on Yuricon ’05. It’s a nice intermission for the fiction pieces, and Morishima has a charming style.

In Kristina’s “Overboard,” sullen Missy is trapped on vacation with her older sisters. They’re taking the tacky tourist approach to the trip, while Missy wonders aloud if humans are naturally evil. (Don’t ask me why.) A misunderstanding brings Missy in closer contact with one of the locals, and she gets the transformative travel experience she was hoping for. It’s nicely drawn, and the quiet moments work best. The pacing is a little odd, though, and the dialogue is stilted.

Things conclude with Althea Keaton’s “Marked.” In it, a young punk looks back on her first days of independence, hanging out with other punks and learning that people aren’t quite what they appear. The story is drawn in a loose, art-comix style that suits it perfectly. While the grungy aesthetic is distinct and the material is at times harsh, the underlying themes of discovery, anxiety, and unexpected kindness are nicely universal. It’s the strongest piece in the collection.

I think just about any anthology is going to have its highs and lows, and Yuri Monogatari 3 is no exception. There’s considerable dedication to the genre on display, but it doesn’t always manifest itself in good storytelling. It’s an interesting read, but it doesn’t leave me wanting to pick up the other two installments.

Filed under: ALC, From the stack Leave a Comment
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