Here’s some comics I’ve read over the last week or so.
If there was one book that New York Review Comics was destined to print, it’s The Complete C Comics. It was originally published in the 60s, and is a collaboration between Joe Brainard and all the poets he used to hand around with.
And it’s really good — it’s an exciting book.
The only thing I’m wondering about is why this hasn’t happened sooner. Like, in the 80s, comics people were so desperate for validation on behalf of the comics art form — why didn’t, say, Fantagraphics do this book to have something to point to when going “see! comics are art!” *stomps foot*
Perhaps poetry just wasn’t on the radar — His Name Is Savage! was perhaps more readily available when trying to establish a respectable lineage, or something.
Speaking of respectable…
Hey! What do they call those, er, “detached spines”? I think I remember seeing a term for it… Anyway, always a plus.
However, this book is apparently a collection of the most Insta of all Insta comics.
The artwork is very nice, but it’s so trite that it veers towards the unreadable. I had to give up after reading one third.
I’ve been reading a handful of her books the past few months.
Most of them are mixed media — paper dolls, clay statues and drawings. This is all drawings.
It’s an interesting book — it’s very intense and relies on its own internal language and logic.
Here’s a book I wish was better…
The first half of the book is written by a Vietnam vet, and I like the way much of the artwork tells the story. But it’s just an extremely well-trodden terrain — it’s, phrase by phrase, stuff you’re bound to have read before.
The artwork is strange in that the aspect ratio sometimes seems off, like in the top right panel there. It’s as if she’s taken a 4:3 video still, displayed it as 16:9, and then drawn using that as a reference. It happens again and again. Is that meant to be meaningful in some way or other?
Then there’s two pieces to round out the book, by Eve Gilbert only, and they’re about weather control systems and other conspiracy adjacent things.
I think it’s likely that this book would appeal to many people, and I do like parts of it, but it’s just not my cup of Twinings.
This one, though, is — I don’t think I’m familiar with Chris Harnan? But this thick book from Breakdown Press is intriguing.
It’s done in a myriad of styles, some of which rather remind me of Yuichi Yokoyama, in a way.
I think it’s a collection of shorter, somewhat narrative pieces…
… but they’re pretty abstract. But very enjoyable.
Volume ten!? Does Monstress still win the er Hugo Awards every year, or has that stopped happening?
As usual with Monstress, the book is 95% people talking to each other about plot elements, and we slowly, slowly learn more and more. But there’s no “as you know Bob”, so it’s all pleasantly confusing, since I don’t really remember all that much of who any of these people are.
It’s particularly mystifying when the speakers are only identified by one of seven shades of mauve in the speech balloons.
The book works better when Sana Takeda is allowed to draw these pretty animal people instead.
I read another book by Miguel Vila the other year, I think? I didn’t like it much.
This one is even harder on the “Chris Ware, but in pastels” vibe.
I think the storytelling style works quite well, really? The book consists of pretty short stories that all interconnect, so we’re invited to play detective, teasing out that guy X from story A is the same as in story C, and that woman Y from story F threw that plate at guy Z from story Q.
So that’s entertaining enough — if you’re willing to invest that much thought power into something that is, when all is said and done, not really very interesting.
Like… You put together a 9000 piece puzzle, and you end up with a picture of Garfield? Yeah.
The other problem with this book is that the artwork is just repulsive. I hate the colour scheme, and I hate the line.
I wonder whether this book landed on anybody’s “best of” list for 2025? Let’s see… Here’s TCJ. Nope.
