Reactor Girl (1991) #1-6 edited by Michel Vrána
Oops, I’m only on the second post in this blog series, and I’m already three days behind schedule… Typical.
I really enjoy a good anthology magazine. And for a publisher it can function as a tent-post publication if you can get it published regularly: While anthologies rarely sell well, they can express a publisher identity better than publishing separate titles. Like: “Ah, yes. That’s a very Raw book”.
But the book has to be cohesive to function like that, so let’s see what kind of anthology this is.
Vrána had previously published three issues of the mini comics sized Reactor Girl, so we get off to a flying start here, with lots of interesting artists (most of whom I’ve never heard of before).
Initially it seems a bit scattered (Kit with David Corr here)…
… but the longest story in the first issue, by the wonderful Carol Swain, pulls it all together.
And, yes, there’s definitely a through line here — many of the stories are pretty harrowing (Peter Ferguson here).
But also a lot of experimentation with form (Jason Stephens).
And even a fumetti about the technical innovation of the day: Answering machines (Steven Lungley).
Linda Carson tells us all about ear piercings.
Vrána himself (with Ron Lum) does a pretty incomprehensible thing about the titular character.
And that’s just the first issue. It’s only 32 pages, but it’s really dense, and it has a clear mood going. Anthologies that are this short are usually not very satisfying, but this feels like a full meal.
Karel Barx tells us about the dangers of man spreading.
In the third issue, Vrána writes the first editorial, and he certainly seems to have a definite idea for the magazine.
Each issue is half returning artists and half new ones, which is a good mix, I think: You want to see more of the artists you enjoy, but you also want surprises. Dominic Bugatto’s thing here is very interesting.
Nick Craine (who also did Cheese Heads) collaborates with his mother, Sylvia Markle-Craine, on a very nice little story.
Cinders McLeod does one of the few overtly political pieces here, but it reminds me: For a 1991 anthology, there’s a lot of women artists in here.
Another name I can’t remember from anywhere else — Andrew Robottom — does a quite intriguing four pager. I wonder whether many of these artists were going to art school in Montreal or something?
Hey! An early Marc Bell page! From before he got the art style he’s been using the past few decades. This is one of the fun things about reading old anthologies — you happen upon early work from people who got famous later.
I really enjoyed Laurent Ciluffo’s piece here — not just because of the intriguing artwork, but also because it’s so different from the denser pieces that surround it. It’s funny how that works in an anthology — you want an anthology that has an identity, but also pieces that challenge that.
Linda Carson does a multi media thing.
Dylan Horrocks shows up with a couple short pieces, but that’s not really surprising, since Tragedy Strikes was publishing his Pickle series. I think everybody Tragedy Strikes published also showed up in this anthology?
Vrána announces a new anthology that would have longer pieces — New Planet Showcase. That never happened.
Hey! Adrian Tomine! I really love his style in this era, before he cleaned it up. It’s loose and fun to look at. And the story is pretty great, too, and I don’t think I’ve seen it anywhere else? comics.org doesn’t say that it’s been reprinted, and:
Huh.
Aaron Straup-Cope contrinbutes one of the wildest pieces…
… while Molly Kiely does a gag.
Hey! Anne Rubinstein! I guess a lot of the artists here were also published in the Drawn & Quarterly magazine.
Anthologies have a tendency to taper off as the publisher grows less enthused by losing money, but that’s not the case here — it’s strong until the end.
Se tuer by Vincent Delbaere & Laurent Cilluto is great, for instance.
Which reminds me of another unusual thing about this anthology: Many of the pieces are by writer/artists duos. Single creator pieces are more normal for this sort of thing.
Gary Dumm & Joe Zabel & Jeff Evans finishes out the series with a quite American Splendorish (that’s a word) piece, which I guess is also autobio?
Comics series usually just stop publishing, but here Vrána actually announces that it’s been cancelled… sort of. He says that it’ll return in a handmade fashion with #7… but that didn’t happen.
I didn’t mention the Reactor Girl design — it’s very Desktop Publishing 1991, isn’t it?
Rich Kreiner writes in The Comics Journal 161, page 100:
Both Swain and Stephens are regular lumi-
naries in Tragedy Strikes’ anthology, Reactor
Girl: Swain with her succinct visitations and
Stephens generally having the last laugh with a
two-page spread at the end of the book (“Do-It-
Yourself Children’ s Drawings”) for your own
refrigerator). Between them they pretty much
establish the extremes of artistic aspiration,
leaving the equally wide continuum Of inten-
tions, means, and abilities to be staked Out by
the almost thirty contributors to the book’ s five
issues.
The title can boast of an unusually high
percentage of successes, due, no doubt, to the
broadly-based discrimination of editor Michel
Vrana, who also adds the titular strip to the
anthology. In the third issue, Vrana spells out
the book’s purpose and its glue:
Part of my mandate. is to bring artists and writers
from outside thefield 10 integrate the techniques and
aesthetics oftheir medium with that ofcomics, to have
comics artists experiment with new ways to express
themselves… With such a potential variety of media
and styles, the Reactor Girl theme oflife in the modern
urban environment serves to bind the stories together.
Though Reactor Girl’ s contents is spangled
with other Tragedy Strikes creators, it is far
from a vehicle of self-promotion. A sizable
majority of contributors are unknown to me and
list no previously published work in their per-
sonal notes. The assembled cast does not quite
provide the brave new cross-pollination that
Vrana aims for but it unfailingly demonstrates
diverse interests, individual venturesomeness,
and distinct, if sometimes tentative, talent.
The list of standouts would have to begin
With Linda Carson, whose compelling pieces
have appeared in each issue. Carson “considers
herself primarily a writer” and her facility with
language bears this out, particularly in her se-
ries, “Some Things You Need To Know”
(“Cream rises. Shit floats. Everyone on top got
there One way or another.”) Her topical text is
accompanied by arrangements of collage and
drawings. Carson lists a range of MFA diver-
sions which, perhaps, complicate equally inci-
Sive graphic statements. Her powers of obser-
vation seem sharp and true, and she constructs
rich, satisfying narrative portraits.
Cinders McLeod offers pointedly social
and political commentary, particularly in issue
#3′ s stirring “Why Are There No Women Car-
toonists?” Her tiny panels (as opposed to the
full-page doll clothings of issue #5) relentlessly
catalog Obstacles and injustices, uniting sec-
ond-hand cant and first-hand experience into a
sympathetic and running indictment of the in-
dustry and of each of us.
The cartoonists Of the anthology consis-
tently display a keen eye, sharp intellect, and
distinctive, attractive visuals, suggesting that
these elements are cultivated as part of the
Tragedy Strikes “house style.” As some artists
use artificial restrictions to more fully stimulate
creativity , Andrew Robottom overcomes acon-
fining graphic format to convey the complex
uncertainties of a one-night stand in issue #4.
Karel Barx (??) sketches a “Group Portrait” in
issue #2 that is light, deft, and incisive. As with
cringe’ that comes from being so far from the
cultural center of the world.”
The Slings & Arrows Comics Guide, page 534:
REACTOR GIRL
Tragedy Strikes Press: 6 issues 1991-1992
Committed to exploring comics in a variety of forms
(photo strips, mixed media, puzzles), around the central
theme of urban life, this Canadian anthology continues
from a run of minicomics published by editor Michel
Vräna, It’s key creators are Jason (Jay) Stephens (1-5) and
Carol Swain (1-4), the former with schoolboy Sparkie
McGee’s ABCs of things not to eat or that make you bleed,
the latter with noir tales in her distinctive style. In 3, the
mother and son team of Sylvia Markle-Craine and Nick
Craine offer a melancholy view of old age while Cinders
McLeod asks why there are no women cartoonists In a
simple, yet endearingly cartoony style. Better known for
work elsewhere, Dylan Horrocks turns up in 4 and 6,
Adrian Tomine in 5-6. The more avant-garde approaches
are the least satisfying, but the quirkiness of a McLeod and
the clear line of Laurent Cilluffo (6) offer a way past the
more wilfully difficult selections—NF
This blog post is part of the Total Black Eye series.