Buttercup (Real Realm) weaves edgy social commentary into a playful time warp in this enchanting and vivacious first volume of their ongoing Afrodiasporic sci-fi/fantasy webcomic. Eugenne, a nonbinary apprentice midwife, brings their new partner, Albertx, to meet another pair of lovers and complete their ambitions for a polycule. As a bonus, they lay out chamomile tea, blunts, and candles for a moon worship ritual. At the gathering, Eugenne has a vision of a group of midwives from 3,000 years ago donning armor to protect a village under attack while a woman gives birth. Thus begins a series of visions Eugenne exeriences over the following days, all of ancient warrior midwives. After a complicated delivery with their own patient, a trans man, a distraught Eugenne begins to find they can tap into a cosmic force and “warp the umbra,” manipulating the physical world (and ultimately people’s emotional reality) by changing objects’ volume/density and place in time and space when faced with threats, mainly from cisgender men. A mysterious figure monitors Eugenne and their partners as they question this awakening, hinting at plot points to unfold in future volumes. Buttercup assembles a delightfully diverse cast of queer characters, who chatter in dialogue truncated like chat messages (complete with emoji). The muted color palette, transportive wordless sequences, and realistic midwifery details blend into an adventure that’s equal parts authentic and mystical. Fans of the magical girl genre will be seduced by this mash-up of Sailor Moon and Nnedi Okorafor. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/30/2024 | Details & Permalink

French cartoonist Larcenet (Ordinary Victories) captures the darkness and harsh beauty of McCarthy’s novel in this elegiac adaptation. As in the original, an unnamed man and his son travel through a chilly postapocalyptic world where society and life itself seem to be disintegrating. They scavenge for supplies they can carry in an old shopping cart and avoid other people as much as possible, as their road is littered with marauders, cannibals, and thieves. “Are we still the good guys?” the boy repeatedly asks, but as the father’s desperation deepens, he finds it harder to answer in the affirmative. Larcenet’s tactile inks, gently tinted in sepia tones, lend the tale the feel of old photographs or woodcuts. He strips the dialogue down to the bare bones and tells the story through images: vast decayed landscapes, close-ups on weathered faces, and lingering shots of roadside corpses and now-meaningless billboard ads and product packaging. The back matter includes Larcenet’s letter asking McCarthy for permission to adapt the novel, where he promises that he has “no other ambitions but to draw your words.” His work bears this out, flawlessly evoking the tone of the original. It’s a worthy companion to McCarthy’s chilling classic. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/30/2024 | Details & Permalink

Through elegant yellow and black illustrations, Harms’s powerful English-language debut traces the ecosystems that pollinators inhabit—and exposes the dangers that threaten their existence. A series of overlapping geometric panels shows a single bee’s voyage from a small flower petal to a thriving hive, charting a “mental map of signposts” along the way. Harms contrasts this micro view with the larger systems that bees help sustain, which have been decimated by human behaviors. For example, global travel has spread bee-killing mites across the world, climate change has created dry spells that stall nectar production, and pesticides—no matter how they’re regulated—eliminate colonies in droves. Suddenly, Harms’s bursting yellow panels disappear and a colorless, desolate landscape demonstrates a gray future without pollinators. The solution, according to Harms, is no less than “a new world” where humans collectively respect and commit to a holistic, ecological mindset. Like the bee’s journey, that new world starts with a small step: planting a few seeds. Readers will be convinced by this firm and vibrantly drawn warning call. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/30/2024 | Details & Permalink

Mardou (Sky in Stereo) documents her therapeutic treatment in this frank and clear-eyed memoir. In 2015, 40-year-old British expat Mardou’s seemingly contented life with her American husband and young daughter begins to unravel when she’s wracked by intense anxiety, accompanied by bouts of acne. Though initially skeptical of therapy (“I’m British. We don’t do therapy. We do sarcasm and alcoholism and football hooliganism”), she finds a skillful practitioner and begins to reconcile her suppressed memories of family traumas. These center on her complicated relationship with her Jehovah’s Witness mother, who was raped by a family member at age 13; her rageful father’s sexual abuse of her stepsister, Gail (for which he was imprisoned); and Gail’s abuse of Mardou, when they were both young girls. Working first through cognitive behavioral therapy and later with a therapist who specializes in the internal family systems method (where one talks to the “parts” they’ve developed “as coping strategies to get through life,” such as the “managers” who “protect our image” or the “firefighters” who “quash painful feelings via compulsions”), Mardou hopes to “break the line” of the “legacy burden” before it passes down to her daughter. Mardou convincingly charts her evolution from therapy cynic to take-charge advocate, and her sharply expressive graphics and neat lettering keep her text-heavy story fluid and immediate. The result is a potent testament to the power of reckoning with the past. Agent: Anjali Singh, Anjali Singh Agency (Oct.)

Reviewed on 08/30/2024 | Details & Permalink

A girl seeking death finds eternal life instead in this unexpectedly playful goth fantasy debut from Fall Out Boy bassist Wentz, with cowriter Klein and artist Sterle (The Modern Witch Tarot). Ash, a snarky teenage rock fan struggling with depression, attempts suicide in imitation of her favorite emo musician, but the knife with which she stabs herself turns out to be an enchanted artifact that renders her immortal. In her efforts to become mortal again, she tracks down Liv, the witch who sold her the blade, and the two head into an underworld of urban witchcraft. Their supernatural investigation uncovers evidence that Greg, a psychiatrist who’s dating Ash’s mom, may be experimenting with a risky, untested antidepressant. Meanwhile, Ash finds reasons to live after all. Ash’s relentless sassiness can be grating, but her sardonic reactions have their moments: “So all these spellbooks... Nobody thought to put this on a server yet?” Serle’s expressive art gives the characters life, and their world of New York City apartments, coffee shops, concert venues, and out-of-the-way magic shops feels lived-in. Emo fans should take note. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/30/2024 | Details & Permalink

In this resonant collection, creators from Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, and Thailand explore the theme of sound. Standout entries include “Folk” by Paolo Chikiamco and Borg Sinaban, a fable about an underground karaoke studio for mythological beings; “Hokkien for Beginners” by Nicolette Lee, in which a girl struggles to learn her Chinese grandmother’s dialect; “Blabber” by Bonni Rambatan, in which an old cassette tape stirs up family memories; and “Signals” by Farid Nad, which uses a “threat assessment” alert to depict the hyper-awareness developed by a queer college student in a country where homosexuality is illegal. Other selections find inspiration in the intonations of oral history, a car radio, the “shriek of the soul” in a fantasy world, and a barking cat. The volume serves well as a showcase of Southeast Asian comics art; representing a range of styles and genres, the pieces are uniformly appealing and assured. But what comes through most cogently is the vitality of the contributors, who embrace art as a force for human connection, self-expression, and political action. “Sound is a force,” reflects the protagonist of “Folk”; “If it’s loud enough, it can move the world.” Taken together, these comics sound a resilient note of hope. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/30/2024 | Details & Permalink

Parker (the Beavis & Butthead comics) mixes dark humor and genuine pathos in this cockeyed account of his Vietnam-era tour of duty. Drafted in 1966, Parker admits he was “not cut out for a career in the army.” He details his stint from boot camp and basic training through his promotion to second lieutenant and service in the Army’s nuclear missile battalion. Though he never sees duty in Vietnam (the closest he comes is a sadistic training camp in Oklahoma meant to simulate POW captivity), it’s not an easy ride. He recalls graphic deaths during training (one fellow soldier is killed in a crash while out celebrating the birth of his baby) and overseeing 13 military funerals for those who died overseas (during one, a little girl calls endlessly for her dead father), as well as the everyday tyranny of ranking officers. Parker reels off anecdotes in a casual narrative style reminiscent of his frequent collaborator, Harvey Pekar, with cartoony, slapstick art. He lucidly details technical aspects of military service and jargon, from the finer points of shining combat boots to the proper mess hall procedure to pass the potatoes. Parker’s wartime stories tickle the funny bone and jab at the heart. Agent: Judith Hansen, Hansen Literary. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/23/2024 | Details & Permalink

This whimsical collection of webtoons by Vuong (the Lego Ninjago series) features Oscar, a walking, talking skeleton in a bowler hat who can appear human, and is also regularly possessed by a mysterious ghost octopus called “the ectopus.” Oscar uses his unique abilities to help troubled souls pass on to the afterlife, including the denizens of a haunted house, soldiers locked in an eternal stalemate at the Battle of the Somme, and a sea captain wracked with guilt over failing to save a sinking ship. Oscar’s otherworldly nature is balanced out by his elderly friend Agnes, who serves as his tether to the world of the living. Though Oscar characterizes each of his adventures as, “Not my tale, but a tale for me to tell,” the last offering in this first volume of an ongoing series goes deeper into his personal history, hinting at his involvement with a sharp-tongued scientist named Nora Grey in the early 1900s. Vuong’s dynamic art recalls Tintin and other rambunctious yet earnest European adventure comics, and the spirited art helps carry the script when the pacing begins to drag in the latter half. Admirers of Space Boy will fall for this paranormal romp. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/23/2024 | Details & Permalink

Is it possible to recapture the magic of falling in love? Debut author Frank puts this question at the forefront of this complex and twist-filled trans love story. Elise and Annie strike up a conversation at Cafe Chateau, bonding over how much they miss Magnolias, the spot it replaced (though to their relief, the cake hasn’t changed). Their instant connection and eagerly rambling dialogue leads them to meet up again the next day—and thus begins a giddy seven-day fling. To capture the energizing feeling of a new relationship and avoid the potential anxiety of a sustained partnership, Elise and Annie decide to be together for one week only. As the days go by and the two lovers express their deepest feelings to one another, their looming deadline becomes increasingly hard to bear, raising the question of whether they can commit to a new arrangement. Frank’s sketchy, fragmented lines reflect the fleeting nature of new love, offering only what’s essential in each panel. The plain typeset narration sits, sometimes squished, above the simple art, imbuing the proceedings with a DIY feel. The result is a quirky, ephemeral, and almost otherworldly romance. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/23/2024 | Details & Permalink

Horvath’s clever graphic novel debut cozies up to the darkness lurking beneath everyday life. Samantha Strong, a cuddly-looking brown bear and the well-liked owner of a hardware store in the idyllic town of Woodbrook, is a serial killer who makes regular trips to the big city to “play.” Sam calmly kidnaps, sedates, and vivisects her victims: “everything neat, and everything tidy.” But during Woodbrook’s Bicentennial Days celebration, someone else starts to murder town residents, and Sam realizes this new killer’s activities threaten to expose her own secret. Deciding that “this town’s not big enough for two psychopaths,” she investigates. The other townsfolk are also cute animals, from a nervous parakeet to the hound-dog sheriff to a turtle who pulls his head into his V-neck collar when startled. Horvath’s charming picture-book artwork, rendered in bright painterly strokes and packed with visual detail, makes the gruesome subject matter all the more disturbing. What could be a simple visual gimmick elevates the story through well-crafted execution and thoughtful moments like Sam’s woodland encounter with a normal, non-talking bear. Fans of deceptively cute horror comics like Mike Birchall’s Everything Is Fine and Jay Stephens’s Dwellings will delight in this hairy twist on the slasher genre. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 08/23/2024 | Details & Permalink