Spend enough time in the blogosphere and you’ll find your interest piqued by topics on which you had previously never given much thought. The enthusiasm and knowledge of bloggers for their favorite topics can be infectious, spreading the urge to delve deeper and learn more about new, intriguing topics. In a modest attempt to tap into that creative potential, I’m including a feature every Friday in which some of my favorite subject experts provide media recommendations on such diverse themes as neocalvinism, the history of mathematics, country music, progressive politics, bioethics, gardening, theology, foreign cinema, and Bible commentaries.
I’m honored to have Bill Wallo launch this series with his superb post on graphic novels.
When Joe asked me to serve as a "subject expert" and offer up five suggested graphic novels (or comic book series), my first reaction was amusement. As in, I'm no expert – I'm just a fan. However, I was happy to oblige since the hallmark of any fan is a willingness to share with others why fandom is so doggone worthwhile.
Given Joe's open-ended offer, I knew I could provide a list of five crucial works in the history of comics. I could say that if you're a comic newbie or an elitist who considers comics to be the bastard step-child of real literature and serious art, you ought to read Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics or Will Eisner's Comics & Sequential Art in order to understand more fully the medium's place as a separate art form. I could suggest, as Jim Fingal recently did, that if you don't yet comprehend the height and width of the medium you ought to look at Neil Gaiman's Sandman books or Dave McKean's Cages, that you ought to read Frank Miller's Dark Knight Returns to see the start of the reimaging of superheroes and Alan Moore's Watchmen to see them fully deconstructed.
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While we're at it, you could – and maybe should – look at Art Spiegelman's Maus comics (about the Holocaust) or In the Shadow of No Towers (about 9/11), or Joe Sacco's Palestine; all compelling stories retold in graphic form. If you were still leery of the whole "words and pictures" thing you could read Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, the award-winning, best-selling novel about life in America during and after World War II, all set against the backdrop of the comics industry (and which itself spawned some comic books).
While I'm not a big fan of Japanese manga, I would also say that those interested in understanding the global nature of the art form might take a gander at Lone Wolf and Cub and Akira as classics of Japanese comics. Lone Wolf and Cub was actually the genesis of the graphic novel which was the basis of the recent Tom Hanks film Road to Perdition (another worthwhile book). And I might mention how you could also thumb through the ever-expanding manga sections at your local Barnes & Noble or Borders (since all the independent bookstores are being throttled by the competition).
But I think the same titles typically end up on many lists of the "best" graphic novels or suggested reading lists, so I am going to veer of in a slightly different direction. I'm going to look at five newer titles I think might be worth looking at for a variety of reasons – either because they're really good or because they represent certain trends in the American comic book industry. And I'm looking at it from the perspective of providing familiarity with comics, not necessarily pointing out my favorites or what I consider the "best" around: these are just some titles that are worth a look.
Hands down, for my money the best superhero comic book published today is Marvel's complete makeover of The Avengers. Like many fans, when Marvel initially proposed creating a new comic book line based on its current characters but in a "new" universe that jettisoned some forty years of continuity, I considered it a stunt focused more on attracting a "younger" audience than anything else. Some of its resulting "Ultimate" line have been a bit uneven, but with The Ultimates they hit a home run.
Tough, gritty storylines combined with excellently imagined visuals drive this fusion of current events with comic book mainstays like Captain America, Thor, the Wasp, and the Hulk. Rougher and with a much harder edge than the original, the book explores both the dynamics of super-powered beings and the interaction of governments and individuals. The potential devastation associated with these characters is no longer ignored but embraced: the Hulk, especially, ceases to be little more than mindless muscle and is instead depicted as a complete unmooring of selfish urges from reason or morality. He
eats, he rages, he wants.
Similarly, the title doesn't shy away from such topics as marital discord and abuse (one issue features an ugly brawl between the Wasp and Giant-Man that is simply brutal despite its incorporation of super powers). But it also gives readers plenty of action – the first "series" of issues was devoted to an alien invasion, complete with the need to unleash the ultimate loose cannon (i.e., the Hulk). The diverse characters – such as the playboy Tony Stark and the hippie anti-globalist Thor and Nick Fury, the calculating general in charge of the new American super solider program – make it highly entertaining, even while it continues to feature as its emotional core Captain America, the World War II super-soldier who awakes to find himself in a brand new world. As they say – if you read only one superhero title, this one should be it.
Now, let's say you want to go a little more literary, or you're afraid somebody will say something about your interest in characters wearing tights. It might well be that the much-praised Blankets is more your speed. Originally envisioned as a true "graphic novel" rather than as an ongoing series, this is sort of a semi-autobiographical coming of age romance title by Craig Thompson. It's painful and poignant in many respects: Thompson recreates his upbringing in what he and reviewers often characterize as a "rigid fundamentalist Christian environment."
Thompson and his younger brother escape their parent's discipline (including being forced to sleep in a "cubby-hole," a claustrophobic storage chamber) through childish daydreams and a love of drawing. Shy and reserved, Thompson is often the target of schoolhouse bullies. His parents belittle his artistic talent and regard it as sinful even as they hammer the boys with scripture. In high school, Thompson meets a girl named Raina and a group of "misfits" at a church camp. She's beautiful, open, fun, and even popular, she introduces him to a whole host of experiences and emotions.
Drawn with stylized black and white illustrations and narrated in a somewhat stream of consciousness fashion, complete with juxtaposed scripture references, the story deals with Thompson's interactions with his family, with others, and with his own emerging adulthood. Personally, I was disappointed in the "flexible" spirituality Thompson has seemingly adopted, but the issues he deals with are those which face us all.
Yeah, we're back to the superheroes. Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale have made quite a name for themselves with a number of stand-alone volumes that explore familiar characters like Superman, Spider-man, Daredevil, and Batman (in a recent issue of Creative Screenwriting, the screenwriter of the upcoming Batman Begins film describes Loeb and Sale's The Long Halloween as the "second best Batman story ever," by which I assume he means that Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns is the best). And in comic book circles at least Loeb made a splash a couple of years ago when he teamed up with super-artist Jim Lee for a run on the primary Batman title.
Here, Loeb and Sale take a look at the "Incredible Hulk" in a stand-alone six-issue series. Sale trots out the Hulk's original color (the green fans seem to like so much was a famous printer's error) and Loeb's story paints a devastating story of the fallout of Bruce Banner's fragmented life. Told in flashback as Bruce talks to a psychiatrist friend, Banner re-examines the accident that turned him into the not-so-jolly giant, together with his relationship with Betsy Ross, the woman he loved, and her father, the general in charge of the weapon program Banner worked on (and the man who hunted him tirelessly until his own death). And like most therapy sessions, the most important revelations come through self-discovery.
Between Jeph Loeb's sparse storytelling, which rarely (if ever) gets in the way of the imagery, and Sale's evocative artwork, they combine to tell a haunting tale of loss. Dark, somber, and moody, it avoids all of the pop culture absurdity often associated with the character and delves far more deeply into the psychological implications. If nothing else, it's worth reading while waiting for their Catwoman: When in Rome series to be collected in hardback form.
B. Clay Moore's brightly colored, moody fusion of noir and the tropics takes readers to 1953 Hawaii, where down-on-his-luck detective is drawn into a supernatural mystery featuring island myths, zombies, and a murdered girl.
Byrd, the private detective, is regarded as something of an outsider in Hawaii since he came to the island from "the States." Perhaps that's why, when a gangster's girlfriend is kidnapped he ends up being hired by both the gangster (to get the girl back) and the kidnapper (to recover the car which has the girl in the trunk, which was itself stolen from him). Even though he can use both clients (and hopes to play both of them against each other), Byrd ends up with more than he expected: ancient tribal customs, an eerie collection of zombies, and a dead girl.
Moore has quite a bit of fun in this book, and artist Steven Griffin's visuals seal the deal. The art is a dense combination of tropical pastel flare and moody, fluid, and sometimes impressionistic lines. The combination of hard-boiled dialogue, laid-back tropical attitudes, and unusual artwork makes the book well worth the read.
This ongoing series written by Ed Brubaker, the heir apparent to Frank Miller in terms of violent conflict, is something I'm tossing into the mix primarily because it is an inventive story wrapped with nihilism, ambiguity, violence, possible misogyny, and sexual perversion. Gee, did I get your attention with all that?
The story's premise is, as is often the case, beautifully simple: Holden Carver is a double agent, deep undercover in one of the most dangerous criminal organizations in the world. The deeper he goes, the more morally compromised he becomes, and even if he wanted to be the spy who came in from the cold, he couldn't because the only guy who knows he's not really a crook is in a coma. The wrinkle that gives this crime storyline its comic book punch is this: Carver has superpowers, and the bad guys he works with aren't your garden variety thugs – they're cruel, calculating supervillains.
It's a gritty, merciless world Carver inhabits, and Brubaker's dense plotline spins on a number of levels, mixing the world of spies with the notion of superheroes quite well. At the same time, however, Brubaker seems determined to brutalize his characters, as if smashing them with a hammer before dumping them into a cauldron of simmering hate, distrust, and unadulterated evil. Holden's power, which he acquired in an oddly mysterious fashion, is that he is essentially impervious to harm. But that comes with a twist: the pain he would otherwise suffer ends up transferred to those he comes into physical contact with. Meanwhile, his partner, Miss Misery, obtains her power from performing sadistic, immoral acts: the worse she behaves, the more powerful she becomes.
While the title isn't a big seller, it is something of a critic's darling, especially for its satirical components (for example, one issue features an implicit parody of annual stockholders' meetings, only this time it is the annual meeting of the shadowy corporations who secretly run the world). One problem, of course, is that the satire is sometimes lost in the excesses of violence and sexual mayhem that Brubaker dishes out. In fact, while I was initially intrigued by the storyline, I myself bailed on the series simply because I found it far too repulsive for regular reading. Others would undoubtedly disagree and regard it as smart and funny and "cool." Regardless, someone interested in comic books ought to take a look at it simply to see what kind of stories are being told.
Bill Wallo is an attorney and law clerk for a federal bankruptcy judge in northern Wisconsin. He blogs at Walloworld.
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Hey! Great stuff. Glad you plugged McCloud's book, it's one of the best quick intros out there--enough thoughtful stuff to keep a scholar interested, but not erudite for erudition's sake. Great way to get a feel for the comics world.
Of the ones you mention, I (having been in Japan for about 2yrs) can only claim The Ultimates as a personal fave, but I'll enthusiastically recommend it. The characters you know (if you're a comics fan) have been re-thought but have essential parts of their personality unchanged, and the stories really help you buy the new characters pretty thoroughly even if you aren't already up on, say, The Wasp and Hank Pym.
Great call, Joe; good post, Wallo!
Cheers,
PGE
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Some good titles there, but don't forget Kevin Smith's work with Daredevil and Green Arrow...awesome stuff.
posted on 05.13.2005 10:03 AM3
I would include along with Dark Knight, two other works of that era, "God Loves, Man Kills" the X-men graphic novel and also the Starlin work "Metamorphosis Odyssey" if you can find the original Epic magazines it appeared in. I don't recommend the compilation re-issued some years later as it destroyed a lot of the artwork with poor format decisions.
posted on 05.13.2005 11:45 AM4
Phenomenal way to start the party, Joe, this blog keeps it fresh.
I would argue Frank Miller's Batman: Year One is slighty better than The Dark Knight Returns.
The worst aspect of the Ultimates is the nauseating pop-culture references, at close second is the Nick Fury take based on Samuel L. Jackson. It is entertaining, though.
Thanks, Bill.
posted on 05.13.2005 12:13 PM5
Since Scott McCloud's excellent Understanding Comics is featured, let me add that everyone should read his outstanding superhero series ZOT!, most of which is available in handy trade paperback form.
Volume 1 is especially noteworthy for Christians; I found that what happened at the pivotal moment (when Zot and Jenny reach the great Door) spoke to me profoundly about the nature of faith.
posted on 05.13.2005 12:58 PM6
Patrick’s comment about the X-Men reminded me of an issue that I had been trying to find. Sometime in the early 80’s there was an issue where the members of the X-Men were transported (whether it was a dream or an illusion I can’t recall) to Dante’s Inferno.
Does anyone remember that one or which issue it was in?
posted on 05.13.2005 2:18 PM7
Thanks Joe for the invitation.
As for Kevin Smith's work: I've only seen some of his Green Arrow stuff as the artwork wasn't particularly impressive to me; I enjoyed Mike Grell's Longbow Hunters years ago but haven't found the character that engaging here recently.
I also think that Brian Michael Bendis has done a far more intriguing job with Daredevil than Smith did; personally, I thought Smith's Visionaries work, in which Karen Page ended up dead, was overrated.
And I'm still ticked at Smith that he hasn't bothered to deliver the conclusion of the Spider-man/Black Cat team up (I think it was titled "The Evil Men Do") he started a couple of years ago.
"God Loves, Man Kills" is an excellent window into the X-Men (and it played a role in the formation of the most recent X-Men film). I'm not sure it was a seminal or groundbreaking work of the 80s in the way the Dark Knight, Watchmen, V for Vigilante, or some other titles were.
What's funny to me about Scott McCloud: I really enjoyed Understanding Comics. I am not as enamored of his comics. But that's just personal preference, I think. He has a personal website with a fair amount of online stuff. He's become a very vocal advocate of online comics and development of "micropayments" to pay artists for their work.
Frank Miller's Dark Knight Returns v. Batman: Year One. Hmm, tough call. Both are very interesting works. I think Dark Knight is perhaps more important for how it visualizes the character and the future of society, and features a more memorable storyline. But hey, I'm not here to argue: until he came out with The Dark Knight Strikes Back, Miller had delivered a number of really quality comics.
As to the comment about the "nauseating pop-culture references" in the Ultimates, I have to admit that the frequent references to Freddie Prinze Jr. and Shannon Elizabeth and whatnot irrated me at first as well. But then I remembered that "cultural allusions" have long been a mainstay of Marvel Comics (remember that Marvel, unlike DC, set their stories in the "real world," and thus they frequently referenced real world events). I decided that the references in the Ultimates - since they are so overt and in or face, like when the Hulk is climbing a skyscraper screaming to Betty that Freddie Prinze Jr. can't love her like he can - are actually intended to be satirical. I have no proof of this, but it helps make the references more palatable. :)
posted on 05.13.2005 4:25 PM8
No Manga? No Krazy Kat?
Really, Astro Boy made modern manga, and hence indirectly revived the use of graphic novels in this country.
Maus, while worthwhile, is pretty niche, IMHO.
posted on 05.13.2005 5:10 PM9
I absorbed Maus when it came out. I like the combo of Spiegleman's simplistic style juxtaposed with the emotional complexity & depth of story. Relating the events through animals was a disarming hook that helped to circumvent some of the preconceptions usually associated holocaust stories. Simple elegance.
posted on 05.13.2005 6:52 PM10
I re-read Batman: Year One last night, and totally agree with oneway. Dark Knight was more distopian with dark appeal no matter what your black vision of the future is (Robin's Parents: "Hey, did we used to have a kid?"). Year One uses the freer atmosphere of today to explore how one man brings his vision of vengeance and redemption to a city, deciding in an instant that he is no killer (just almost).
In the 90's comics became artist-driven, with stunning imagery and vapid stories. Now the pendulum has swung to writers. I can heartily recommend anything written by :
Umm, I guess that's enough for now
posted on 05.14.2005 11:01 AM11
Powers and Who Killed Retro Girl? did nothing for me. Not saying they were horrible, just they fell. absolutely. flat. on me. Eh, de gustibus . . .
I'm an old-school Marvel/DC reader, making the folks at Hastings & BN nuts with my habit of reading everything on the shelf every month or so, so my tastes may not flow with the folks who go for "artsy" or "indie" type stuff. There have been exceptions.
I liked Year One, but I'm going to side with the Returns crowd; I think it was the more important and interesting re-thinking of a character, and *way* ahead of a number of later imitations (including Miller's own sequel).
Anyway, that's enough "not me" and "me too" for now.
Cheers,
PGE
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Also, check out Sale & Loeb's take on Batman. They had a run of 3 or 4 books over the last few years. Interesting storylines & visually unique (to me anyway...).
posted on 05.16.2005 12:32 PM