ESSEX COUNTY volume 3

With the third volume of the Essex County Trilogy – all of which is collected in a single omnibus edition from Top Shelf, if you weren’t already aware of that – Jeff Lemire fulfills the creative promise exhibited in the first two volumes. Lemire’s storytelling is magnificent, the narrative touching, and he manages to pull everything together, despite the unorthodox manner in which he chose to tell this story. Lemire jumps back another two generations from the previous volume, showing us the roots of the LeBeuf family, which we discover is more closely tied to that of Anne Quenneville, the nurse who has taken care of Lou LeBeuf in his waning years.

There’s little more I can add that I haven’t already said about the first two volumes. This is a moving tale amplified by the evocative imagery provided by Lemire’s loose, yet consistent artwork. Essex County is one of the most moving comic stories I’ve read in a long time. I would challenge anyone to read this and not come away with the realization they had watched an amazing new talent emerge over the course of these three volumes.

Buy this book.

Read this book.

You will not be disappointed.

And then, once you’ve finally remedied that character flaw, check out the interview Comic Geek Speak did with him a couple years back. It’s really a great conversation, and will enhance your reading experience.

Enjoy,

chris

Reading Watchmen - coming 01/01/2012

Starting January, 2012 - a second blog dedicated to discussing, analyzing, and reading Alan Moore's & David Gibbons's masterpiece, Watchmen.

www.ReadingWatchmen.com

FYC Replay: Nexus with Steve Rude

In an effort to archive my "For Your Consideration" columns from my time writing for the Pulse, here is one of the later pieces I wrote. I was very excited about this. I had met Steve Rude at a convention years earlier, but hadn't taken the opportunity to talk with him much (that's not my style). But given the opportunity to do a phone interview with him for the return of Nexus - for which I was extremely excited - I jumped at the chance. Sadly, the speaker-phone I used gave out on me just after Rude picked up (after two abortive attempts at the interview prior), and so I had to work doubly hard to parse out what he was saying in my recording. I lost some of our conversation and had to piece together much of the rest with the help of memory, but, overall, I feel I was successful in retaining the spirit of Rude's thoughts and ideas. I hope you enjoy.

For Your Consideration: Baron & Rude’s Nexus

By Chris Beckett

FRONT PAGE: Baron. Rude. Civil Unrest. Nexus. Sundra. Tyrone. Leaky diapers. Fully painted artwork. And the return of . . . Kreed. It’s Nexus #100, and this one has it all. Come in and check it out. It’s the return of a classic you don’t want to miss.

The 411:

Nexus: Space Opera pt. 1 & 2

Issue #99 (32pp. full color, $2.99)

Issue #100 (48pp. full color, $4.99)

Written by Mike Baron

Art by Steve Rude

Rude Dude Productions

What It Is (with apologies to Dave the Thune):

It’s been ten years since Mike Baron and Steve Rude last brought the wonders of Nexus to its legion of fans. And with such a layoff, one might expect the newest issue, last summer’s #99, to open with a short recap of who Nexus is and what makes him tick. But then again, these two creators aren’t known for taking the easy, or the expected, path in their work. That’s part of what endears these two artists to their fans, and it is an integral part of what has made Nexus a popular and critically-acclaimed comic for over a quarter of a century despite working its way through four publishers. But now that Nexus has landed within its co-creator’s newly-formed publishing venture, Rude Dude Publications, fans can hope to see far more of this dynamic and tortured character in the coming years.

Nexus is one of those comic characters that has stood the test of time, and if all fans are not intimately familiar with his exploits, most fans – I hope – are familiar with the name and the creators. But with the ten-year layoff, maybe a short introduction is in store.

Taking place five hundred years in the future, Nexus is one Horatio Hellpop, son of the Sov General Teodor Hellpop, a mass murderer who ordered the destruction of a planet. It is from this, and in reaction to this, that Nexus comes to be. Able to bend matter to his will, and tormented by feverish nightmares of the galaxy’s worst mass murderers, young Horatio takes on the mantle of Nexus, exacting justice upon those in his dreams, beginning with his own father. Hellpop did not choose to be the galaxy’s executioner, but he is compelled to mete out this justice so that the dreams might stop, or at least fall silent a while.

Word of his deeds quickly sweep across the galaxy, bringing refugees to the planet where he was born and continues to reside, Ylum. Outcasts, survivors, and others seeking a new life migrate to Ylum, bringing forth life from the once-dead orb. Despite this influx of people, and contrary to his relationship with Sundra Peale – initially dispatched to Ylum to spy on Nexus – this guardian of the galaxy remains a solitary figure, unable to find solace or understanding from others who could never know what he endures. But Nexus continues his duty while trying to have a somewhat normal life and create a planet where things will not be as bleak as they seem to be across the rest of the universe. It is a difficult life, but then again, what would life be without the challenge?

With the landmark 100^th issue of Nexus, the fecal matter hits the fan. Nexus and Sundra have just welcomed their new son, Harry, into the world as the Elvonics threaten to destabilize the planet’s tenuous peace. Having so many different races residing together brings with it any number of problems, the most prominent stemming from those ancient differences that define us as they also isolate us, forcing one race to hate another only because they are different. It is this, and the perceived insult of Nexus against the Elvonics, that has incited them to open hostilities while others conspire in secret the murder of Nexus’s newborn, the most recent attempt involving the launching of hyposiles against Sundra while still pregnant. Luckily, Nexus was present when she was attacked and deflected two of the hyposiles as he seized the third one and digested it, absorbing the surge of power triggered by its detonation.

Nexus is a unique comic. It packs all of the action and spectacular science fiction elements of a great summer blockbuster, while also grounding the characters in a very real world that, despite being set five hundred years in the future, looks quite a bit like our own. Hellpop, Sundra, Judah, Tyrone, and all the others experience the same feelings of loss and guilt, love and embarrassment, as all those reading this book, and writer Mike Baron is unafraid of treading through the mundane aspects of this world in order to create a more believable and engaging story. Though the justice exacted by Nexus may be absolute and brook little argument from the audience, it is not so easy for Horatio Hellpop to slough off the magnitude of what he does. Beset by guilt and anxiety, he is an all too human character who is able to perform great feats of heroism, but not without a cost. Who among us would be unable to sympathize with Nexus? It is this humanity, imbued by Baron’s writing, which elevates Nexus above that of the typical action comic. This, and Baron’s trademark humor, helps to make Nexus one of the most enjoyable reads in comics today, whether it be the new series or the recently repackaged Archives from Dark Horse comics.

Accentuating these fantastically human stories is the artwork of co-creator Steve Rude. Without his sleek lines, Nexus would not have reached the pinnacle it has. Rude is able, with a minimum of brush strokes, to create elegant characters that glide across the page, seemingly in motion despite living on a two-dimensional canvas. Rude’s work is reminiscent of one of his unabashed heroes, Alex Toth, a master draftsman whose output within comics was far too slight. Rude is an obvious heir to Toth, and the skilled manner with which he creates his pages adds so much to the reading experience of Nexus. Managing to pack his panels full of detail and action while somehow keeping them from becoming so cluttered that the action gets lost in the reading, Rude walks a fine line that is only enhanced by his aptitude for evoking emotion on the faces of his characters. Especially evident in close-up, Rude refuses to bash readers over the head – except when the humor of the character or the moment demands caricature – preferring to delineate understated, but more real, emotions on the faces of those populating this book. This refusal to “dumb down” the story through his subtle art is the mark of a consummate artist.

This 100^th issue of Nexus also includes a history of the character by comics journalist Bill Baker (Alan Moore’s Exit Interview and Alan Moore Spells It Out) as well as the first fully-painted Nexus story from Rude. The eleven-page backup story, which showcases the backstory of Sundra from before she ever knew Nexus, is a rare treat and an amazing showcase for Rude’s painting. This book is chock full of the good stuff and any fan of great comics does not want to miss this one.

An Interview with Steve Rude:

Why choose to start RudeDude at this juncture?

The right time to do anything is when you feel it’s right. And then you just try your hardest. You read up and try and get as smart as you can so that you can succeed.

The type of thinking that says something isn’t going to work is exactly the type of thinking that keeps people where they are in life. You can’t move forward if you aren’t willing to take chances.

Ultimately, what will this move mean for Nexus and the Moth as well?

What I want to do is spread the word about these comics that I think are better than the ones that are out there right now. Comics have gotten very ugly. They’re dark and morose. For me, it’s a real aversion to what I consider good entertainment. And that’s my goal. I want to entertain people with my comics.

A lot of people look at Nexus as an antihero, and I was curious about your thoughts on that.

Labels are going to be labels. To me, that’s what he is, and how people interpret it is part of the magic of entertainment. When you see a movie that doesn’t have a cut and dried ending, you’re left to interpret it any way you want. That’s part of the fun of using your imagination instead of having it spelled out for you. To me, [Nexus] is a great character with a great life that’s worth drawing and writing.

The same with the Moth. He has a very interesting life and a lot of room to grow in the comics. I enjoy the growth of the characters. It’s all a matter of how you deal with the things that come at you. It’s like playing battle ball in gym class when you have a thousand balls coming at you. It’s how you deal with that, trying not to get hit.

And that’s life. Every day we get up and face the world. Comic books are no different. The various settings are different from our own, but the circumstances of how to deal with things are still: this person in this situation and how do they deal with it. Why do we keep getting up in the morning? Why do we want to keep trying?

One thing I find interesting though – again, with the labels – is it seems that Nexus really hasn’t suffered from the antihero tag. It seems to be more embraced than a lot of other characters that are in a similar vein. I’m wondering what you might attribute that to?

Well, he’s not a cruel person, for one thing. I think he’s the guy that got put into this situation and does his job even though he doesn’t enjoy it. I think there’s a lot of value in what he does. It’s something that I personally feel really strongly about. The idea that there are so many rotten people in the world and there’s nothing that seems able to be done about that. And we see it every night on the evening news. It’s not fun. And I don’t know how many people are able to watch the evening news, but I can’t watch it. I haven’t watched it for, going on two decades now.

I don’t want to watch that. But it’s real life, and how a culture deals with things that are as horrible as what we have on our television sets every night says a lot about them. And all I know is that there are really rotten people running around doing really rotten things. I wish there was a delegation somewhere that could do something. Part of what the book is about is that the legal system gets thrown out the window. Because people wait forever to decide if he’s guilty or not guilty, or if he’s insane and isn’t responsible for his actions. I dislike the notion that there is some guy out there that has the psychological makeup to solve his problems by killing people. That doesn’t work.

I would want justice for the people. I would like to see evil eliminated. But you could never wipe it out. That’s impossible. All I know is that you do what you can with your life.

Here on Earth there’s all these fighting factions. They fight based on their philosophies.

I was just watching this X-Files [episode] last night that will give you a perfect example of what I’m talking about. There’s this insane guy they’re going to let go and Mulder wants to stop it because he knows they can’t let him go otherwise he’ll be at it again. You’re laughing the whole time at those people sitting there in the chairs in this committee saying this guy’s perfectly sound for him to go out. These are the people that don’t understand what the hell they’re doing.

That’s my personal take on that. I think these people are vastly ignorant and choose to be because they don’t want to understand the facts that are repeatedly being shown to them.

And so there’s a lot of my personal philosophy in Nexus. And Baron feels the same way about this stuff.

To what do you consider the staying power of Nexus, especially considering the ten year layoff?

I think it’s a combination of things. There’s a foundational truth to the character that spans decades. Without that, it would feel flat. We try to ground it in the here and now even though it’s set in the future. We use events from today as our springboard. Everything is a reflection of its time because people don’t change. They never change.

OCTOBER COMICS Starchild by James A. Owen

James Owen’s Starchild series was one of those books that would rise to the top of my “to-read” pile when it was being published regularly back in the early 90s. I love that book and have read it a number of times through the years.

Not a horror book – as most of my other “October comics” offerings have been – it is a book perfectly suited to reading during this time of year when the days get shorter and the air becomes cooler. This was pointed out to me by my friend from the CGS forums, Adam Murdough, and when he shared this insight, I knew instantly he was correct.

The tale of the Higgins family, the bulk of Starchild is set in the timeless village of Fool’s Hollow near a magical forest. Hearkening back to our romanticized versions of ancient English villages, this is a tale wherein mythical characters like Titania live alongside caricatures of some of my favorite fantasists such as Neil Gaiman and Alan Moore. It’s a masterful blending of myriad times and settings that Owen manages to pull off with intelligence while never forgetting to tell an entertaining story.

Owen both writes and draws these tales, and his art meshes wonderfully with the writing. Owen’s delicate lines and slightly rough style are reminiscent of old woodcuts, evoking through his artwork the atmosphere of such a tale. One can almost hear the wind whistling across the glens as the pages turn. Drawn in a different style, or by a different artist, I don’t think Starchild would evoke such wonder as it does.

Within the pages of Starchild, one encounters mystery, high drama, and familial secrets tempered by the whimsy and lyrical comedy of characters such as Old Tom and Martin Humble, and simmering beneath it all is the magic of stories, the kind that ignited our imaginations as children.

If you love fantasy and appreciate the mood found in that hour right before midnight in the early autumn, then this is a book for you. Definitely worth seeking out, Starchild is best read on the porch at dusk, with a steaming mug of cider close by.

chris

ESSEX COUNTY volume 2

In “Ghost Stories,” the second part of Jeff Lemire’s acclaimed Essex Country trilogy from Top Shelf Comics, readers follow the story of brothers Lou and Vince LeBeuf from their time playing amateur hockey together for the Toronto Grizzlies up until their final years. Lemire tells this story through flashbacks – seen from Lou’s contemporary point of view – and offsets it with Lou’s current struggle to keep his family farm, keep his independence (as a nurse comes in to help a few times a week), and the eventual inevitability of him moving into a nursing home.

The main plot is a fairly standard one – that of a rift between brothers over their mutual love of a single woman – but Lemire infuses the narrative with more soul and emotion than is in many of these tales. And, he does not take it in the direction one initially expects. What appears to be foreshadowing very early in the book is actually a result of Lou’s failing health and his inability to properly recall the memories of his life.

The most vivid, and most special, moments in Lou’s life revolve around his brother Vince, who was bigger and more skilled at hockey than Lou could ever hope. The year he shared a hockey line with Vince, when they led Toronto to the playoffs, burns bright on the horizon of his mind. This pivotal time in Lou’s life is also the point where things went so wrong for these two. And it all flows naturally from the characterizations of these LeBeuf brothers.

Lou’s fading health, as he cuts himself off from the rest of his family after the mistake made during that fateful year in Toronto, mirrors his emotional deterioration. It is notable that, once Vince and his fiancée Beth leave Toronto to return to the farm, Lou suffers a debilitating knee injury that ends his own hockey career. But, at that point, he cannot go home. So he remains in the city and finds a job driving a streetcar on the public transit lines of Toronto.

Eventually, Lou and Vince come together after a family tragedy. Things are uncomfortable, and the LeBeuf brothers are never able to recapture that special bond they once had. But they are there for each other, as well as for young Jimmy LeBeuf (whom we saw in the first volume of Essex County), whose limited hockey career is able to wipe the slate clean between these brothers, at least for the short time they are able to watch him play.

With this second part of his Essex County trilogy, Jeff Lemire continues to exhibit the skills of an artist of more advanced years. His pacing is pitch-perfect, teasing out the narrative in a manner that allows pieces of the puzzle to connect slowly until various points collide, bringing the entirety of the narrative into sharp focus.

And his artwork suffuses the story with such emotion, elevating it to another level. Lemire knows when to pull back and when to close in on a moment, evoking very authentic feelings that we all have experienced at one time or another. I continue to be amazed at the ease with which he paints these characters while swiftly engaging his audience and never letting go until the final page. I anxiously look forward to reading the final part of this landmark graphic novel. If you haven’t read this yet, you need to get out and find a copy. This is as good as it gets in comics.

Also, if you’re curious, my thoughts on the first part of Jeff Lemire’s Essex County Trilogy – “Tales From the Farm” – can be found here.

chris

OCTOBER COMICS The Broadcast by Eric Hobbs & Noel Tuazon

Since “discovering” Noel Tuazon’s work on Elk’s Run, with writer Joshua Hale Fialkov, I have become a huge fan of Tuazon’s work. His loose lines and cartoonist’s approach to drawing is far more appealing to me than the current flavor of the month at the “Big Two.” He, like many of the comic artists whose work I admire, is able to infuse his pages with more emotion and atmosphere than most artists working in the field.

So, when I passed the NBM table at last year’s Small Press Expo and saw they had only one copy left of Tuazon’s most recent book, The Broadcast (written by Eric Hobbs), I had to pick it up. And was I ever glad I did. This book, along with Tuazon’s return collaboration with Fialkov, Tumor, has solidly put him on my “guaranteed winner” list.

The Broadcast, Eric Hobbs’s first major graphic novel, comes from a brilliantly simple concept – how might a small group of rural Americans in early 20^th century America react if they believed Orson Welles’s “War of the Worlds” broadcast was real – a reality that earned Welles much criticism after that initial radio broadcast. I haven’t read The Broadcast since that first time last year, but the emotion of the book has lingered with me since then, rearing its head at unexpected times, so it is only appropriate that I write about it now, as best I can.

The Broadcast is more than just how people might react to a perceived Martian attack. It is really a story of how people under stress react to, and treat, one another and the hierarchy that quickly evolves in such an anxious time. This book is about these characters, about the injustices, perceived or otherwise, they manage to suppress until such a time as this, and the consequences of allowing one’s anxiety to dictate one’s actions.

None of the characters make it through this book in one piece, whether emotionally or physically, and Hobbs deftly handles the issues of that period – including most prominently the racism that was rampant, and is still a problem now, in our country. The Broadcast is, at times, a harrowing reading experience, but it is also touching in many instances. It’s a delicate balance of emotions that Hobbs and Tuazon manage to achieve wonderfully, and it elevates this book beyond what could easily have been a one-note story.

And the artwork from Tuazon is beautiful. His inkwash technique, coupled with Tuazon’s facility with facial expressions, perfectly evokes the atmosphere of the dreary, rain-soaked setting and the weight of finality under which these characters rest. Tuazon’s storytelling is on full display here, and any artist looking to break into comics would be hard pressed to do better than study The Broadcast, or any of Tuazon’s other work.

Although told in a quiet manner, this is a brutal book about the dark places of the human soul. It is a compelling read that shines a hard light onto the horrors of fear, very real horrors that feel more authentic than most of those found in graphic fiction, or fiction of any kind. Hobbs and Tuazon come together to showcase the best of what this medium has to offer, and I heartily recommend you seeking this book out. You won’t be disappointed.

chris

NEW COMICS: Love & Rockets (New Stories) #4

I came late to the party where Love & Rockets is concerned. But, thanks to my wonderful wife, I got introduced to the amazing cartooning of Los Bros Hernandez the right way when she bought me the omnibus editions of Palomar and then Locas a few years back. From page one of Beto's Palomar stories (which came out a year before Jaime's Locas collection), I was hooked.


At that point, Fantagraphics was producing volume II of L&R, in a smaller comic-sized format. I got all 20 of those issues and have continued on with volume III, which offers new stories from these master cartoonists in annual 100-page chunks, with Jaime and Gilbert each taking roughly half of each book.



If you have never read Love & Rockets, and you are a fan of great comics or just great storytelling, you need to remedy that situation. There are few cartoonists working today of this caliber. Their stories are poignant or fanciful or cute or heartbreaking or involve any number of emotions along one's mental spectrum. And their simple, yet elegant art (with Beto having a softer, more rounded look to Jaime's very precise, sharper lines) illuminate these stories so perfectly.


The Hernandez Brothers (including, from time to time, Mario) are also pioneers in graphic storytelling, utilizing the page and its inherent rhythms and boundaries to evoke these emotions and tell their stories in new and inventive ways, despite having done this for nearly three decades. It is a testament to their mastery of the medium that, with this latest iteration of Love & Rockets, one still finds something new within their work to be amazed at.

For example, take a look at this double-page spread encapsulating the relationship between Maggie and Ray through the years. Simply brilliant:



And, if you want, here are those two pages at a larger size, for a better comparison:






In particular, the work of Jaime in these last two installments of the "New Love & Rockets" has been breathtaking. In issue #3, he ripped my heart out with the understated narrative he offered, illuminating facets of the Chascarrillo family (Maggie's family of Hopey & Maggie) that put many of his previous stories into a whole new light. It was an amazing, heartbreaking story full of very authentic emotions, but handled so deftly that it resonated more.


And Jaime followed that up with equally heartfelt and emotional chapters of Maggie's story in this latest issue. The way he continues to tell these characters' stories - while also allowing them to actually grow old and evolve into similar, yet new, characters - and add more to what has come before without it growing stale is a joy to experience.



Gilbert's offerings in this volume are equally enjoyable, if less "earth-shattering." In recent years, Beto has been enjoying recounting the B-movies of his character Rosalba "Fritz" Martinez. They are fun, over-the-top, stories that allow Beto to show a fanciful side, which has always been present in his work. But I don't want to downplay his contributions. The beauty of these stories has been the little bits of humanity lurking beneath the slick veneer of the main narrative. The moments when we see Fritz away from the movie set, able to be human and relate her own feelings and dreams. These are the gems that elevate his recent narratives.



The humanity and the artistry found between the covers of any Love & Rockets book is a wonder to behold. Every new edition jumps to the top of my to-read pile, even trumping the novels I may be reading at the time. And this newest iteration of Love & Rockets is a nice hefty package that affords Los Bros Hernandez to produce longer works that keep them invested in the material, which was part of the reason for the change in format. The subtle differences in art style, along with the different stories each brother wants to tell (and did I mention that Jaime was producing a superhero story with his characters in the initial two issues of the "New Love & Rockets"?) provides a nice balance within each issue.


You cannot go wrong with Los Bros Hernandez and Love & Rockets. Seek it out. Now. You won't regret it.

chris

ESSEX COUNTY vol. 1 by Jeff Lemire

Wow! I read the first volume of Jeff Lemire’s Essex Country trilogy, “Tales from the Farm,” last night (the entire thing is available in one handy volume from Top Shelf) and was completely enthralled. Lemire’s deft storytelling belies his relative inexperience at the time he wrote and drew this. Seriously amazing work.

The story takes place in Essex County in southwestern Ontario, where Lemire himself grew up. In this first chapter of the trilogy, readers meet Lester, a young boy who enjoys comic books and dresses up in his own makeshift costume to battle invading aliens in the back fields of the farm where he lives. Though not immediately evident, it is his Uncle Ken with whom Lester lives on the farm, and their relationship is strained at best.

Lemire, thankfully, does not spoon-feed his audience, allowing the narrative to reveal itself at a measured pace while keeping readers engaged in the story. Soon enough, one discovers that Lester recently lost his mother to cancer and does not remember his father. This, as much as anything, explains the divide between the boy and his uncle. It’s heartbreaking and authentic, and Lemire’s choice of imagery and spare dialogue convey this emotional chasm masterfully.

Through the course of this first chapter, readers follow this new family of two through a year on the farm, slowly learning more of their history. Lester befriends a local celebrity – Jimmy Lebeuf, who played a single game in the NHL for the Toronto Maple Leafs, wherein he suffered a career-ending injury – and finds the companionship he needs, at this time in his young life. Lester is comfortable with Jimmy, who enjoys discussing comic books with the boy and even dresses up in his old hockey uniform to help Lester battle his alien invaders. It’s a touching friendship, one made more sympathetic when Lester’s uncle warns Jimmy off, hinting at something more than just familial responsibility.

Lemire paces this first volume of his Essex County trilogy so beautifully, teasing out information, allowing readers to make the connections between these characters. His deft use of silent and repeating panels – all utilized to provide narrative beats or accentuate an emotional tenor within the story – help create an engaging graphic novel that had me enthralled from page one. And, when this volume reaches its climax, it is presented in such an understated manner that it will resonate with readers long after the book is closed.

Lemire’s raw, almost scratchy, brushwork adds an emotional layer that elevates this story. His work exemplifies the difference – and, in my opinion, the superiority – of cartooning over photo-realism, the current trend in “mainstream” comics. Lemire’s stark, expressive inks pull readers into this story, enveloping them in the raw emotions he is sharing through these characters. It’s a wonderful melding of art with words, showcasing what is possible in comics.

I understand, fully, why Essex County has received such widespread accolades, and I eagerly look forward to the next volume sitting on my to-read stack. If you haven’t read this book before, you need to seek it out. Now.

chris

FRACTURE OF THE UNIVERSAL BOY by Michael Zulli

I first heard about this book two years ago and have been anxiously awaiting its publication ever since. With such anticipation, it is easy to elevate the work to a level where expectations cannot possibly be fulfilled, no matter the artist.

Thankfully, Michael Zulli is no ordinary artist. Fracture of the Universal Boy is a beautiful, heart-rending, emotional, personal, and moving piece of work. It is obvious how much time Mr. Zulli has put into this book, and it is a book that will reward future readings.

I devoured my advanced copy (thank you Kickstarter campaign) a few weeks ago in a single sitting – the book is roughly 200 pages long – and was very happy to find my “official” copy on the doorstep just the other day. The amount of detail on these pages is well-served by the oversized dimensions of the book, and the complete package is truly a thing of beauty.

I am letting the story simmer in the back of my mind for now. But, at some point soon, I plan on re-reading the book and writing a longer piece on this book. I only hope that I am able to do the work justice.

But I will say that, if you see this book at your local comic shop or book store, pick it up. You will not be disappointed. Mr. Zulli worked ten years on this book, and the care and artistry evident within its pages exhibits that commitment. It is an amazing book that is deserving of your support.

chris

SWALLOW ME WHOLE by Nate Powell

Swallow Me Whole, written & drawn by Nate Powell and published by Top Shelf Comics, is a heart-rending, engaging, affecting work, fully deserving of the accolades it has received. Powell’s storytelling is quiet and serene, lulling the audience into a strange sense of comfort while subtly drawing one deeper into the narrative until becoming fully absorbed by this world between the covers.

Swallow Me Whole is the story of Ruth and Perry, step-siblings each dealing with mental illness (schizophrenia, obsessive-compulsive disorder) in their own way, while also leaning on each other for comfort and understanding. Ruth is obsessed with insects – they talk to her – and she collects specimens from her school (taking them home without permission), organizing them on her shelf in an attempt to gain some control over her life. Her perspective on the world is unique. Speaking to these insects, Ruth has a greater appreciation for their presence within the world and, when the insects’ voices become louder (often during times of personal stress), Ruth works to navigate through the world in a more cautious fashion, trying not to step on any of the myriad insects that fall across her path in the course of a day. It is overwhelming for her.




Perry, on the other hand, sees a wizard on the end of his pencil. This wizard speaks to Perry – giving him regular missions to carry out – and the only way for him to make the wizard go away is to draw for it. Perry fills sketchbooks with his art – a creativity born of his illness and a metaphor for artistic creation, as well as a literal commentary on many famous artists in human history (Van Gogh obviously comes to mind).

The children’s situation is compounded by the stress of caring for their Memaw – their grandmother whose discharge from the hospital opens the book. She lives on their couch, sleeping and taking her meals there, and the children are responsible for being with her after school while they await the arrival of their parents. Through this interaction, we learn that the feelings that Perry and Ruth are experiencing can be traced directly back to Memaw. She confides in Ruth that she too once heard the voices, but assures her granddaughter things will get better. And we discover that, to cope, Memaw “painted like a woman possessed.”



In the course of the story, we watch Ruth and Perry grow up, as they make their way through high school. Each sees a doctor about their problems – manifesting as behavioral issues in the eyes of their parents and teachers – but only Ruth is properly diagnosed, while Perry is told he is suffering from stress and that things will work out. It is ironic and painful to watch after traveling with these two through much of their adolescence. They have suffered enough, through travails familiar to anyone reading this book, and it is unfair for those common stresses to be compounded by the quiet struggle they both contend with.

Ruth and Perry persevere, but as they grow older they start to drift apart – each finding solace in their respective sweethearts. For most of their young lives each provided support to the other, offering a distinct understanding into the problems they face. As they move apart, readers witness how one is able to silence, for a time, those voices, while the other step-sibling discovers that leaving the voices behind is not what they desire. And, in the end, the choices made by Ruth and Perry – if they can truly be called choices – propel these two toward the climax of the book.

Powell is an incredibly talented storyteller. He deftly weaves this tale through a number of years, subtly moving from one period to the next without disrupting the narrative flow of the book. The pacing is wonderful, moving along naturally as it enfolds the audience within its narrative, welcoming readers into this world he has created – a world just outside one’s door. And Powell is not afraid to allow the imagery to push the story along, offering a number of silent scenes that are made more effective by the lack of dialogue.

Speaking of Powell’s artwork – it is beautiful to look at, and it meshes perfectly with the story. His brushwork evokes just the right emotion through its composition and draftsmanship, and like the comic work of Scott Morse (though in a completely different manner), Powell’s art affords readers a certain level of comfort that draws them into the narrative. And, once invested in the characters, readers are unable to turn away, even when things become disquieting. And this – a feat that is terribly difficult to achieve – is what elevates Swallow Me Whole beyond most of what can be found on the shelves.



Swallow Me Whole is one of those books you will not put down once you start reading – I know I didn’t want to stop, even though I had to work the morning I started it. Powell injects very real emotion, very honest emotion, into Swallow Me Whole in lieu of the bombast and hyperbole found in far too much fiction – comic or otherwise. And when I reached the end of the story, I could feel the heartache welling up inside me for Ruth and Perry. This book truly moved me, and that is something I cannot say about most books I read.

-chris

NEW TO ME: JLA American Dreams – part 3

JLA: American Dreams by Grant Morrison, Howard Porter, Oscar Jimenez, et al.

Forgotten JLA nemesis, the Key, uses his enhanced intelligence to break into the Watchtower and capture the League members, minus J’onn J’onnz. Having paralyzed them with a neural shock, the Key injects them with a programmable psycho-virus that produces structured hallucinations for the heroes, causing them to experience an alternate reality.

The “key” to the Key’s plan is that he realizes the JLA will figure a way out of their predicament and defeat him. Ultimately, the Key wants to use the surge of power that will result from the JLA breaking from their dream states to boost his own powers and allow him to project himself into negative space so that he can completely control our universe. Luckily for the League, Green Arrow shows up and the Flash burns through the virus faster than expected in order to defeat the Key.

These final two issues in the second of Grant Morrison’s JLA collections were fabulous. As I stated in the previous post, the bad taste left in my mouth by the mangled “New World Order” collection (mangled by horrid art from Porter and some marketing intern’s stupid idea to include the plot twist on the back cover copy) is long gone. The stories in this collection are fun and smart and – unlike most superhero comics – excite my imagination.

One of the main things I appreciate about these stories from Morrison is the fact that he’s building on the past to enlighten the present. That is, Morrison is using a lot of old-school storytelling techniques to enliven the narrative. This second collection includes five chapters (issues 5-9) and in those five chapters, Morrison gives us three complete stories. Three! For most trade collections today (and I have to keep reminding myself these comics were originally published in 1997, nearly 15 years ago), this would fall one issue short of the single 6-issue arc passing for comic stories these days.

Too many creators are writing for the trade and give us, the audience, pre-packaged (and overstuffed) six-issue arcs that say little and excite even less. This is one of the things that has turned me off to many current comics and probably why I have been enjoying the “Wait, What?” podcast with Jeff Lester and Graeme McMillan – two comic fans and bloggers who have a great affinity for classic comics.

Decompression – ugh!!

But I digress.

With this iteration of the League, Morrison was trying to tell superhero tales in the grand tradition of comics from the silver age and before, and it is incredibly exciting. Like Chris Claremont and Steve Englehart and Roy Thomas and many writers before him, Morrison lays the groundwork for later stories with subplots in previous ones. With this two-parter involving the Key, the villain is introduced in issue #6, lying in a coma, only to come out of it in the subsequent issue (#7) so that he can trap the JLA in this storyline (#8-9). And the wrench in the works, the new Green Arrow (Connor Hawke), does not feel like some deus ex machina thanks to the recruitment story three issues earlier. Morrison’s deft handling of the storytelling in JLA makes things flow naturally rather than feeling forced. It’s a simple thing to ask, but something that often gets lost in most of today’s comic stories.

Morrison also eschews decompression for a fully packed storytelling style. He understands comics and allows readers to fill in the blanks for things that lie within the gutters of the panels. He isn’t afraid to have us readers jump into the middle of a conversation between characters, especially when the first part of the dialogue would have been nothing but exposition. In his mind, the readership is smart enough to connect the dots, and I applaud Morrison for that. And the density of ideas found in his stories is astounding.

• Intelligence-enhancing perfume
• Manta Raiders
• The use of a clockwise Buddhist swastika and maggots (that devour necrotic tissue) to defeat undead Nazi zombies
• The Speed Source leaking into the world once every day, causing all the inhabitants to fun as fast as the Flash (in his dream state)
• The use of the JLA’s power to boost the Key’s own power

It’s all fantastic stuff that many writers would return to again and again until they’d bled the idea dry, but Morrison drops these and other similarly inventive ideas into a single page or even a single panel and then doesn’t return to them because he doesn’t need to. It’s brilliant.

The dream sequences in these two issues were reminiscent of Alan Moore’s & Dave Gibbons’s Superman story, “For the Man Who Has Everything,” in Superman Annual #11. But Morrison takes our heroes into far different places and makes this trope – which, if we’re honest, is the same premise utilized in DC’s Elseworlds stories – his own. These new versions of classic characters are extremely interesting, and a part of me wishes that DC had looked to this story for their impending relaunch.

• Superman as the Green Lantern of his sector
• Bruce Wayne, with wife Selina Kyle, now standing in for Alfred as Tim Drake and Bruce Jr. fight crime as Batman and Robin
• the quicksilver-coated Flash

It’s all great stuff.

Morrison also subtly presents the overall theme of his run on JLA (as pointed out to me by Peter Rios) with the characterization of Connor Hawke (the new Green Arrow) in these two issues. Connor is arriving to be inducted into the League and finds the Key already deep into his plan – the members of the League all unconscious and hooked up to the Key’s device. Connor tries to intervene but is driven back and loses his arrows in an explosion.

This leaves him with no recourse other than to utilize his father’s trick arrows, which are stored in the trophy room. But, Connor has no idea how to use the boxing glove or handcuff arrows. He comments that his father was either a madman or a genius. And when the Flash comes out of his stasis, Connor remarks that his father’s arrows are “impossible” to shoot. But Connor doesn’t give up, though we can see in his voice-over that he is pondering it. And, in the end, Connor Hawke does what a superhero is meant to do, he perseveres through the impossible in order to do what is possible and save the day.

It’s a subtle bit of storytelling hidden among the bombast of the Key and the excitement of the heroes’ “other” adventures, but it is at the heart of this two-part story as well as at the heart of Morrison’s approach to the JLA.

And, finally, the art from Oscar Jimenez is a beauty to behold after the horror that is Howard Porter’s JLA (with apologies to Porter, with whom I have no personal grudge; I just have a hard time appreciating his art). Jimenez’s clean, polished style and clear storytelling provide a much-needed injection to the visuals of this series. If only he could stay on, but I’m pretty sure Porter will return with the next collection.

Anyway. I loved this entire collection and am anxiously looking forward to reading more. Can’t wait!

-chris

FROM THE LONGBOXES: Amazing Spider-Man #30-35 by JMS & JRJr – Part III

Forgot to post this on Wednesday, so here's a Sunday bonus. The final installment in my short series on J. Michael Straczynski's & John Romita, Jr.'s run on Amazing Spider-Man that originally ran at the In the Mouth of Dorkness blog.

Enjoy.

SOME FINAL THOUGHTS

One of the best things about J. Michael Straczynski’s run on Amazing Spider-Man (at least up to the point I stopped reading, which was when JRJr left the book and Mike Deodato came on as artist) was his characterization of Peter Parker. JMS had a firm hold on what makes this character tick. Despite being older, Peter is still a person who takes very seriously his responsibility to his family (Aunt May and, though she is gone at this point, Mary Jane) as well as his responsibility, as Spider-Man, to the populace at large. This does not mean his exploits as Spider-Man are not nerve-wracking. This is why Spidey has always been a wise-cracker, spewing ridiculous jokes to cover up the fear he feels. It’s a common defense mechanism and one that has been a part of this character from the start. And JMS’s dialogue smoothly fits into this aspect of the character.

JMS also has Peter moving forward in his civilian life, having him become a science teacher at his old high school, as another way for him to give back to the community. This is a natural extension of the Spider-Man template set forth by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko back in the early sixties where they had him graduate high school, move on to college, and have evolving relationships with the likes of Betty Brant and Gwen Stacy. Again, it fits the character and is a nice way of “showing” readers who Peter Parker/Spider-Man is rather than telling us through some dull expository caption boxes. It’s a subtle bit of storytelling that too few writers in comics miss out on, even today.

The pacing of this story is also excellent. There’s an ebb and flow to the narrative that allows readers to enjoy the story and experience the emotional crescendos when they arrive. One of the best bits of writing advice I’ve gotten came from the DVD commentary by JMS for the final episode of season one of Babylon 5. He discussed how one should have a quiet moment prior to a major disruption in the narrative – whether it be an emotional disruption or an alien attack or whatever – in order to make that emotional instance resonate with the audience. And JMS deftly weaves the quiet moments with the “big” ones in this storyline.

Straczynski also sets things up nicely. He doesn’t have any resolutions come out of left field. The way Spider-Man defeats Morlun is reached through a natural progression of events, none of which feels forced or hackneyed. The way Morlun goes on about feeding on a pure totemistic host, and Ezekiel’s surprise arrival that catches the villain off-guard and bloodies his nose – offering Peter an opportunity to study what manner of creature Morlun is – all make sense and feel like the events they are (the villain monologuing, Ezekiel helping Peter) before you realize that they have secondary consequences (the opportunity for Peter to survive this primal force). It’s wonderful storytelling.

And that brings me to another aspect JMS brought to his initial storyline. He incorporated Peter’s scientific background when he had Peter take Morlun’s blood and analyze it for a possible way of defeating him. This is something I have rarely seen utilized in Spider-Man comics. It was refreshing. This has always been a cornerstone of the character, and yet it is hardly used within the stories. Peter’s webs were originally created by him, a scientific breakthrough that he tried to sell to some scientists way back in issue # 18 – a deal that fell through when they discovered the webs dissolved in minutes.

Yeah, editors have made his webs organic – actually an extension of Peter and emanating from his wrists – and I can’t say where the “continuity” stands on this aspect right now, and I’d rather not think about that. Ugh.

Bringing this aspect back into the book, accentuated by Peter’s decision to become a science teacher at his former high school, was something I greatly appreciated.

And John Romita, Jr’s artwork has never looked as good, in my opinion. He draws a lithe, ballet-like Spider-Man who is wiry and able to contort his body in a manner reminiscent of a spider and, again, a body type that hearkens back to Steve Ditko’s seminal work.

AN HISTORICAL NOTE: Initially, Jack Kirby was tapped to draw Spider-Man and he finished five pages of an initial story. But Stan Lee discarded that and chose to have Ditko draw the book. He obviously made the right choice. I don’t know the reasoning, but it seems to me that Kirby’s blocky style really would not fit with the character of Peter Parker – a teenage bookworm with a slight physical frame – whereas Ditko’s lithe artwork was a perfect match for the young hero.

JRJr knows how to draw comics, especially action-packed ones like Spider-Man. And he does not disappoint here. When Spidey first faces Morlun, the double-page spread we get from JRJr is fantastic, a whirlwind of these two larger-than-life characters pummeling each other. It’s a collage of images without panel borders that gets across the frenetic pace of the battle. It really is a masterfully drawn spread that showcases the unique properties of comics storytelling.

But, though this may not be his strong suit, JRJr can also evoke emotion from the quieter moments of the story. It’s these moments that help punctuate the action and give it the emotional tenor necessary in a story like this. Thankfully, JRJr is not afraid to let these softer moments breathe within the larger narrative. He understands, better than a lot of artists, how to tell a comic story effectively and give readers a full and satisfying experience. Having a veteran of his stature, who can also hit deadlines, on this book with JMS was a good move on Marvel’s part. It really elevated the first half of Straczynski’s tenure as writer on Amazing Spider-Man and is a major reason why this first storyline won the 2002 Eisner award for best serialized story.

And finally – JMS went there. He finally had Aunt May discover that her nephew is Spider-Man. And the way JMS handled that was brilliant.

But that’s best saved for another time.

-chris

FROM THE LONGBOXES: Amazing Spider-Man by JMS & JRJr - part 2

It's new comics Wednesday, so here's another piece from my writing over at the In the Mouth of Dorkness blog. enjoy!

NOTE: SPOILERS AHEAD! BIG TIME!

First go read part I, then come back.

Okay.

Peter, bloodied and severely bruised, goes to Ezekiel to accept the offer of sanctuary this enigmatic businessman with eerily similar spider powers had proffered earlier. But it is too late. Morlun has touched Spidey and can now track him no matter where he hides. And, despite having extra-normal powers – or maybe for that very reason – Ezekiel declines to assist Peter in his battle with Morlun. If he did that, Morlun would be able to latch onto his scent, as he’s done to Peter, and he would come after Ezekiel next to leech him of his own totemistic powers. Ezekiel has too much to lose. He can’t forsake all he’s amassed for a fool’s errand.

So Spider-Man returns to the maw of destruction created by Morlun, and he must save a young child from this primal force of nature before going on the attack with his fists and his webbing. Nothing stops Morlun, and Peter realizes he needs to get some breathing room. But he stays within his enemy’s field of vision so that Morlun will remain fixed on the prize and not go after anyone else.

But first, in a nice touch by JMS, Peter calls the school to tell them he won’t be in. Too often, questions within the hero’s private lives (such as why would Clark Kent not be missed from the Daily Planet if he was off in space for weeks at a time as Superman) are never confronted, let alone answered. Having Peter do this in the middle of a battle not only firmly establishes this new status quo in Peter’s life, but it is also another example of JMS exhibiting Peter’s conscientiousness, which is a hallmark of the character.

Then the battle continues, with Morlun devastating Spider-Man in his relentless onslaught. Hardly able to move, after Morlun smashes him into a building with a lamppost, Spider-Man snags the bumper of a car with his webbing and lets it drag him along the paved road in order to get away, if only for a moment. Once he’s put some distance between himself and Morlun, Peter takes a moment to call Aunt May and tell her how much he loves her. He realizes it may be the last opportunity he has to do this.

And then Morlun is on him again, driving Spidey toward the docks.

But out of nowhere, Ezekiel knocks Morlun down from behind. With the enemy momentarily confused, Spidey and Ezekiel pour it on, bloodying Morlun’s nose before he regains his edge and sucks the energy from Ezekiel, who falls into the bay. Morlun, having quenched a bit of his thirst, leaves Spider-Man to look for his friend, content in the certainty that he will feed on him soon enough. And he returns to his aide, Dexter – a human liaison who wished to be close to power and has been helping Morlun make his way through New York – in order to prepare for the final battle.

But this altercation gives Peter something he hadn’t had before. He takes the bloodied timber from the dock and examines it at home. In so doing, he discovers that Morlun’s cells are made up of an amalgam of every kind of animal cell – the purest forms of DNA Peter’s ever seen. That is why Morlun needs to feed on a pure totemistic life-form, so that he can recharge those cells before they break down.

And that’s the key for Peter. He needs to dilute the purity of his Spider powers. To do that, he considers seriously Ezekiel’s earlier question: “Which came first, the radiation or the power?” Which is to say, did the radiation give the spider the power with which Peter was infected, or did the spider already have that totemistic power and inject Peter with it when it knew the radiation was going to kill it?

So, Peter injects himself with that same radiation, in order to dilute his totemistic purity and give Morlun something poisonous to feed on instead. And when Morlun tries to take Peter’s spider force, he burns with the radiation. Spider-Man now has a weapon, and with every punch he pours more radiation into Morlun – weakening him, changing him, making him vulnerable.

As Peter pounds on Morlun, he realizes that just defeating him isn’t enough. Morlun is a primal force that cannot be stopped in any conventional manner. Only through such an extreme scenario as this one, in which Peter injects himself with a near-lethal dose of radiation, is there any hope of defeating him.

Peter realizes Morlun must die. But can he do it?

And then Dexter, Morlun’s aide, comes out of the shadows and shoots him, wrenching the decision away from Peter. Part of Dexter’s services to Morlun included providing sustenance for the centuries-old vampiric being. It may have made Dexter feel important at first, but it hurt – a lot – and the toll it took on him was overwhelming. So, seeing his opportunity to be free, Dexter takes it.

And we, and Peter, will never know if he would have made that ultimate choice. It is a question that will haunt Peter for a long time, and it’s a perfect, emotional ending for this initial story from JMS and JRJr.

Except that this wasn’t the end. There still needs to be a cliffhanger, a reason for readers to come back and buy the next issue. There has to be the denouement. And JMS provided one helluva denouement.

When Peter had called Aunt May earlier to tell her he loved her, she had offered to pick up his clothes and take them to the cleaners. But, with Morlun on his trail, he didn’t have time to answer then.

So Aunt May decides to go to Peter’s and pick up his clothes – always wanting to do for her nephew, it makes complete sense. Peter is sleeping, and had taken no time to put away his tattered costume when he arrived home earlier. He is so exhausted from his battle with Morlun, that his spider sense does not warn him of Aunt May’s arrival.

And she sees his bloodied body and his Spider-Man costume, and realization hits her like a lightning bolt from a clear sky.

But that story is reserved for another day.

-chris