G A N Z E E R . R E V I E W S

Dave McKean o-o-c

No. But before I get into the whys and how-comes, perhaps it best if I address all the yeses.

It is certainly beautiful work. My favorite of McKean's comix work, even more so than Black Orchid or Arkham Asylum, both of which are very impressive. But rather than the hyper realistic, excessively referenced approach he utilized on those two, McKean opts for something rather whimsical in CAGES. I have no doubt that McKean leaned on much reference throughout but he isn't so concerned with sticking to it so closely here. His figures often stretch and move in peculiar ways and his faces contort rather creepishly. Scratchy ink lines almost etch through the paper and vary in weight from ultra thin to big and blotchy in happenstance. It's as if McKean decided to relinquish as much control as possible to ink, nib, and the laws of physics and it's gorgeous. No straight line is ever truly straight, so you end up with a 470+ page graphic novel that is charged with much of the same raw energy typically only found in artist sketchbooks. There are a handful of sequences where McKean experiments with photography and painting and they're quite interesting, but it's really the expressive line art of the drawing that constitutes the majority of the book that really does it for me. Especially because it's so hard to come by (His spot illustrations in Neil Gaiman's THE GRAVEYARD BOOK being another one of such exceptions).

The other great thing about CAGES is seeing McKean flex and even indulge in the storytelling department. Multiple sequences of straight up talking heads, and even a couple sequences with a single talking head, sometimes going on for pages on end. Not only does he utilize them, but he's able to make them sing. A facet of what he does with facial expressions and the speech itself. Speaking of speech, McKean's lettering is sublime! Far more expressive and idiosyncratic than you'll see in most comicbooks and yet totally legible. Very much part and parcel of the lineart itself.

Because the story features an artist, there are a couple of art-making sequences that I very much enjoyed, and a couple poetic jazz club sequences, and story-within-a-story type things. Oh and a very beautiful love-making sequence. All in all, it's gorgeous stuff. But—here it comes—to what end? I'm not really sure.

I'm not sure anyone's really sure. I'm not even sure McKean's really sure. And y'know, that can be fine. Art-as-exploration can be more than fine. It can lead to revelatory things a lot of the time, but this is not one of those cases. It just ends up being a largely incoherent mess of loose threads that inevitably falls flat. At least it did for me.

Another pet peeve of mine is the object itself. Since the version I experienced is the oversized hardback edition by Kitchen Sink Press, that is the particular edition I'm reviewing here, the physicality of which certainly affects the experience. Extra thick coated paper is a big minus, at an enlarged size of 9”x11.5” in hardback makes the book a damn chore to handle and subsequently read. I'd opt for scooping up the floppies instead. And if books are your jam, getting those floppies custom bound. But hey, that's just me.

[Buy]

#comix

Deena Mohamed o-o-o-o-o

Describing it as an atomic bomb wouldn’t be quite right, because it’s far more insidious. It’s more of an inconspicuous feather, carried by the winds until it finally lands ever so softly only to cause a ripple effect of mass destruction and hysteria. Of course describing this doorstop of a book as a feather might seem out of place. At over 500 pages it is a beast of a thing, the sight of which would strike fear and envy into the heart of even the most accomplished cartoonist. The only lightweight aspect of this impressive tome is that of Deena's touch, daft and never heavy-handed.

But I'm getting ahead of myself here. What exactly is SHUBEIK LUBEIK? It is, in fact, a trilogy, forthcoming for the first time in English (read from right-to-left tho, like Manga) in a singular handsome package from Pantheon. Many might find themselves surprised to see this “debut” by a completely “unknown cartoonist” so massive and more importantly so fully-formed right out the gate, but that's only because they would be ignorant as to Deena Mohamed's track record, who released the first SHUBEIK LUBEIK in Egypt as far back as 2018, and has been steadily racking up awards since. And prior to that she spent the better part of a decade cutting her teeth on some very acclaimed webcomix.

But I guess that says more about Deena than it does about SHUBEIK LUBEIK. What exactly is SHUBEIK LUBEIK about already?!

The thing is, if I were to tell you Genies and wish-making, I wouldn't be lying, but I would not in any way be doing this masterpiece justice. And that is exactly what makes this book (or this collected trilogy of books) so masterful, really. In that it is a masterclass in subversion, in gently luring the reader in with beloved singsong only to expertly smack them up the head with a solid oak bat! Which is why I'm reluctant to give too much away. I'd really love for readers to experience this the same way I did: knowing only that it's about genies and wish-making. But I know that's not much of a selling point, so I'll say this: Magical Realism.

That's really how Deena does it. She takes the fantastical concept of wish-making, and grounds it in the trappings of our reality. In this way, wishes are essentially a commodity, another consumer good of varying quality depending on where and how it is produced. The better the quality of the wish, the more expensive it is, and thus not necessarily easily within reach. How can a wish ever be of mediocre quality, you ask? Well, you might get what you wish for, but with absolutely harrowing consequences. And I'll leave it at that. But through this conceit, Deena is able to build a very believable world where wish-granting exists and within this world, Deena is able to explore politics, class dynamics, colonialism, depression, gender identity, laws and regulations, and so much more, all while following a narrow set of characters who by the end one cannot help but feel are very real actual friends. And to be able to do all this while brimming so effortlessly with humor throughout? Near impossible. This is the kind of story someone like Neil Gaiman can only dream of telling (and I say this with love, because I love Gaiman's storytelling), told through the expert language of cartooning that only the likes of Spiegelman, Clowes, and Bryan Lee O'Malley have perfected. In fact, I might place Deena's approach squarely at the crossroads between those three cartoonists, although she is very much her own thing (not to mention what a sight it is to see an artist's craft grow so beautifully from the beginning of a book to its end).

This right here represents the holy grail of comix-making and I cannot recommend it enough. Pantheon is certainly lucky for signing Deena up. SHUBEIK LUBEIK is an essential addition to any library concerned with the highest caliber of graphic literature.

[Pre-order] (Hardcover only)

(All images are from an uncorrected advanced reader's copy.) #comix

Martin Booth o-o-o-o

Crabapple sent me this one after a conversation over cocktails in Brooklyn back in the summer, during which Crowley’s name was brought up. Neither of us are Crowleyites (I think) but we both have varying degrees of interest in the occult. My curiosity is a bit more recent, largely ignited by three bits of information:

1. Modern Art had its beginnings in the occult (which—unbeknownst to the public—kinda makes modern art museums de facto temples of the occult).

2. Most modern occult movements seem to have been triggered by the European rediscovery of Ancient Egypt (see Napoleon’s Sorcerers and Margaret Murray).

3. Alan Moore.

Any interest I might’ve had in Crowley in particular though was largely based on what very little I knew of him; the things that make their way to you without any active research you might embark on on your own. Namely, that he was an occultist who amassed a large following after his death due largely to his efforts in self-publishing. Or so I thought. Reading this book brings every dark crevice of this wicked man’s life to light, and… it ain’t pretty. That isn't to say that the book is a negative look at Crowley. In fact, it's incredibly balanced, to the point where you might find yourself baffled by the author's ability not to comment on some of most outrageous bits in this chronicle. Those are the parts I like the most to be honest, because when the author does offer his own take on something, it can often be quite flawed. One example is when Crowley had a less than favorable opinion about the Statue of Liberty's location of New York when it was originally conceived for the Suez Canal, to which Martin Booth claims Crowley must've been misinformed. Why Booth is unaware of what is arguably common knowledge is rather surprising to me. And with that one must take caution in the passages where Booth imparts his own knowledge of history independent of Crowley. But otherwise, Booth chronicles Crowley's life from the moment of birth until death in such a masterfully exciting way, you'll find yourself glued to the book and burning through its pages with ferocious speed. It helps of course that Crowley's life was a fascinating one to say the least. It's certainly difficult to like him after reading this, so much that I question how on Earth he can possibly have a following at all. But as unlikeable as he is, there can be no dispute that his life was rather enthralling, dotted by one shitty choice after the next. There are aspects to him that I'm sure any maverick might find appealing (hello, Crabapple), like his disdain for societal norms and his inclination to oppose the culture at large at every possible opportunity. One of the bits I found most fascinating was Crowley's attempt at establishing a commune in Sicily. With someone of Crowley's incredibly poor decision-making skills at the helm, the experiment failed in every terrible way possible. But this still—along with many other aspects of Crowley's life—pits him as a leading predecessor to the counter-cultural movement that would take root in America some 40 years later! Had the details of his experiment been brought to light sooner on a mass popular scale, the utopia-seekers of the 1960's might've been able to finetune their methods and avoid making the exact same mistakes. Crowley was in fact ahead of his time in more way than one it seems, but they all seem to have filtered through the cognitive part of his brain that inevitably results in terribly poor judgement. Be it sex, publishing, mountaineering, money-management, human relations, religious exploration, travel... you always get a sense of brilliance combined with complete idiocy. It's such a dichotomy that makes for a fascinating read, even if you care not for Crowley or even the occult for that matter.

The other thing that makes this book so great is that—like the best biographies—it's an absolutely fantastic window on a tumultuous period in history. From the turn of the century to the World War I to the roaring twenties and well through World War II, all serve as a backdrop to the life of one of the most eccentric characters in human history, and you get a feel for how it must've been better than any movie or period piece could ever do justice. Down to the little fact that opium, cocaine, and heroin were readily prescribed to treat things like asthma and freakin' toothaches! It doesn't take much to deduce that likely every single person Crowley interacted with must've been at least mildly intoxicated at any given time. In fact, it probably applies to everyone we read about who ever lived between 1898 to 1950.

But that's not why you should read this book. You'll read it because it's a damn thrill, and... it'll probably make you think twice before making any horrendous life choices.

[Buy]

#prose

Matt Madden o-o-o-c

Matt Madden is a comix formalist. What that means is he really enjoys obsessing over the mechanics of comix, forever exploring the limits of what the medium is capable of. Much in the vein of, say, an Art Speigelman. The thing that propelled Art Speigelman to prominence though wasn't so much his formalism but his narrative work, in particular MAUS. Which is absolutely fair given that most of his formalist experiments were little more than single page comix in the pages of RAW magazine. What Speigelman might do on a page though, Madden does in a hundred. This will either very much appeal to a reader or completely repel them. I fall in the appeal camp mainly because I'm a comix maker and enjoy looking at things that deconstruct the mechanics of the medium. Will this appeal to the casual reader? Not likely, just by sheer fact of the lack of narrative. It's not that there is no narrative at all, but it's just so awfully thin that its existence hardly matters at all. Which was probably Madden's intention since he's so clearly far more interested in experimenting with the medium itself more than telling a story.

Granted, this can be a problem. After all, paintings that only care about what the paint can accomplish with complete disregard for subject matter are always going to be a notch less than ideal. You can say the same for any medium really. A film that only cares about what can be done with film will exploit tricks, techniques, and effects but will lack a good enough narrative worthy of employing such tricks, techniques, and effects. What such works typically amount to are technical exercises, or the demonstrative equivalent of shoptalk. Which, naturally, is the sort of thing others in the field would be into. Folks outside the field? Not so much.

Thing is, it doesn't have to be that way. At the end of the day, all mediums exist in order to be utilized to express something. The methodology of expression comes second, in service of what needs to be expressed. And there are works that do this gloriously. David Mazzucchelli's ASTERIOS POLYP comes to mind, for example.

Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed Matt Madden's EX LIBRIS. In fact, I was captivated by it and read the whole thing in a single sitting. But I suppose that's part of the problem. I just wish there was a bit more to it, something more to chew on after being done reading it. I suppose you might say that part of the problem is in its somewhat glorified production values which makes you expect something more than a 100-page formal exercise. Oversized hardcover (almost French Bande Dessinee style) on nice somewhat thickish paper stock gives it a $29.95 price tag. It could have easily worked at 2/3 the dimensions on cheaper paper wrapped in a softcover. It would've looked more humble, appropriate for its content, and priced at a far more reasonable sum.

Still, I'm glad it exists, and I'm glad someone out there derives so much pleasure from unraveling the comix medium's charms, powers, and secrets.

[Buy]

#comix

Jim Rugg o-o-o

A comic about a mythical public domain revolutionary created in hiding by underground cartoonist networks in Kiev? Brought back to life by Jim Rugg in glorious fluorescent black-light inks?

This, without even thinking about it for a split second, blows all my whistles. From the subject matter to the character's peculiar history, to the unique printing treatment, to the very cartoonist behind this revival, I was all in, and jumped at the chance to back this comicbook on Kickstarter as soon as it was announced.

Fluorescent inks aside however, the end result is largely underwhelming. The story follows Robot's Stalin's plans to test a terabomb in Northern Siberia, home of the indigenous Nanets. Word gets out and makes it to the PPP Party (Progressive Political Pornography) prompting Octobriana to stop Robot Stalin before it's too late! Decent enough setup that takes all of four pages, with the rest of the comic following Octobriana's mission. This wouldn't be too bad if the mission was at all challenging, but Octobriana romps throug it like a badass from start to finish.

I expected a bit more meat to this story. Given the character's history, Octobriana is ripe for something a little more deconstructive, and maybe even an opportunity to explore ideas around communism, capitalism, democracy, and dictatorship (and pornography!). Granted, that may be too much to ask of a 24-page comicbook. I do love the fun, lighthearted humor of the thing, but most of that lies in the first four pages, with the rest being straight action comix, and not entirely exciting action comix at that. Honestly the completely unchallenging action sequences wouldn't have bothered me had some of the key “money shots” been rendered with far more badassery by Rugg. Instead, they're given the same treatment an artist might give a throwaway panel.

Examples:

• Octobriana and a rescued scientist riding some kind of Dimorphodon/dragon thing. Even though this panel takes up half a page, it is underwhelmingly illustrated with the flying creature silhoutted and the characters simplistically rendered, at an angle that hardly gives this moment the larger than life feel it deserves.

• Octobriana and same scientist finally find the terabomb on a moving train (top image, right page, middle panel). A chance to draw this weapon in all the larger than life terror it deserves, completely lost.

• As the scientist hurriedly works his magic on the bomb (on the moving train), a mutated monster appears to stop them (top)! What should be a stressful, high octane, startling moment is instead just kinda meh.

• Octobriana in a tank blowing the monster to shreds! Yes!! A double-page spread! Look at that “BOOM”! Glorious lettering and glorious colors, but this awesome tank taking up a spread is rendered in the same simplistic way it might be depicted in a thumbnail. The tank here is just asking to be far more awesome!

• A half page for a silhouetted Apache helicopter?

Honestly, I could go on and on about all the lost money shots, because lost money shots is pretty much what makes up most of OCTOBRIANA 1976, but the kicker for me was on the page before the last:

C'mon, man! A mutated bear emerging from the rubble and that's how you choose to depict it?

Generally speaking, I'm a big fan of Jim Rugg's cartooning! He's one of the rare artists in the field who operates at the intersection of what is commonly understood to be cartooning, and graphic design, and other illustration arts, and generally has a good compass for oscillating between which muscles to lean on throughout any given yarn. This special sauce so particular to Rugg's craft isn't very much on display in OCTOBRIANA 1976 though, and instead we're presented with comicbook full of poor storytelling choices.

As disappointing as OCTOBRIANA 1976 is, I don't regret backing it on Kickstarter, and am happy to have participated in funding this fun experiment by Jim Rugg, which I'm willing to bet is but a miniature prototype of far more awesome things to come. One must commend Rugg on the efficiency with which he handled his entire kickstarter, from launch to promotion to production and extremely timely delivery. I do hope we see more kickstarters from Rugg for more fiercely independent output. I have a feeling we have yet to see the extent of what this unique artist is capable of.

That is the hope anyway.

[Buy]

#comix

Caza o-o-o-o

My awareness of Caza largely pertains to his cover-art for various French science fiction publications, specifically periodicals such as FICTION and GALAXIE. Proving my ignorance of much of the comix landscape, I had absolutely no idea that he did comix as well, so it was with utter excitement and glee that I discovered Heavy Metal had not only published a translated collection of his works, but that their website had it on sale (for as low as $5.12 at the time of purchase, cover price $12.95)!

Caza's line art is clearly the demented lovechild of Moebius and Druillet, an exceptional combination. His color work I would argue surpasses both, bringing forth a quality that is at once painterly as well as designy; with gradients used minimally (and traditionally) in conjunction with flats within a color palette that rarely exceeds a handful of hues. This, together with his incredibly considered compositions make each and every page within this tome worthy of its own poster. Such a statement in my mind would mean the end result probably wouldn't bode well for sequential storytelling (something say, Sergio Toppi—who I love— is often guilty of), but THE AGE OF DARKNESS is evidence that Caza may be the shining exception to the rule.

The stories in THE AGE OF DARKNESS are surreal and suggestive rather than plot or character driven. Dialogue is rarely spoken, and instead panels are accompanied by poetic prose (but also sometimes by rather redundant descriptions of what you're already looking at).

The opening story, “Clouds”, is the least weird in the collection. This 4-pager dated 1979 gave me a tinge of my own THE SOLAR GRID (or more accurately the other way around); a child contemplating a sky thick with elaborate clouds is interrupted by rain, prompting him to don his protective suit, because—as it turns out—the rain is acidic and poisonous. The second story, “The Flute Player” dated a mere year after the first, is a grand leap into weird. A wandering man passes through the great metallic city of the “Oms” before settling on its outskirts and carving a flute out of a lonesome bush. Upon playing it, he is attacked by the Oms and driven out of the city. He returns and plays his flute again, but this time... the Oms are driven to mass suicide, and the closing panel reveals that the flute is different, that this time... it is fashioned out of bone.

Bone from the wanderer's own leg.

And the stories only get weirder. They tend to follow a similar structure though, where there's a buildup to a final panel reveal. These don't offer any concrete statements or notions (not that they don't intend to) but rather they put you in a contemplative state of mind, a space that is part philosophical and part dream-logic.

Beautiful, timeless little think-pieces that you can just pick up at any point in your day and instantly induce your life with a little beauty and thoughtfulness (and quite often some wicked disturbance).

Cannot recommend enough.

[Buy]

#comix

Jack Kirby o-o-o

Jack Kirby's NEW GODS isn't good comix, but it's pretty great Kirby comix. What I mean by that is, objectively speaking and judged with other great comix in mind, NEW GODS is an incredibly underwhelming and laughable read. But if you enter NEW GODS with Jack Kirby in mind, you'll likely get a kick out of it because this is Jack Kirby at his Kirbyest, fully leaning into all the things that became his trademarks: krackles and explosions, fighting superheroics, new characters with new inventive costumes being introduced every other page, along with throwaway sci-fi concepts.

The premise is interesting enough; the old gods have perished and from their destruction arose the New Gods. This bit is only really explored in brief over two pages, afterwards it's all about the drama and brimming war between the New Gods, namely those of New Genesis and those of Apokolips, two sister planets wherein the former is bright, colorful, and joyful and the latter is dark, doomed, and miserable.

The series starts off with Orion returning to New Genesis from... well, it isn't entirely clear where. A battle of some kind is hinted at, but in any case there is great commotion surrounding his return and his summoning by High Father, a chieftain figure of New Genesis. There, Orion is taken to The Source, an ancient wall that survived the “fiery holocaust” of the old gods. Then appears Metron, a mysterious knowledge-hunter who moves effortlessly through space-time in his throne-like Mobius Chair. And the wall pronounces its marching orders: “Orion to Apokolips—then to Earth—then to War.”

This directive amuses the mysterious Metron who mumbles to himself “How wondrously wise is The Source! Who is more ready to fight the father—than the son!”

Thus it is revealed that Darkseid, ruler of Apokolopis, is Orion's father, but it is something Orion as of yet has any knowledge of. “It is not time for him to know! You shall keep secret!” urges High Father of Metron.

This isn't giving a whole lot away, mind you, because all this occurs before the 10-page mark of what is a 400+ page epic. And within those 10 pages alone, there is the seed for enough material to build entire universes filled with all manner of story. Kirby's knack for imagination and creating the new is likely his greatest gift, but with it comes the curse of rarely following any one thread to its suggested conclusion. The thrill of introducing new threads with new characters in new exciting costumes and/or worlds is just too alluring for Kirby to resist. This frustration with holding course isn't only evident from issue-to-issue but even from panel-to-panel sometimes, where it isn't at all uncommon for Kirby to completely disregard background/setting consistency, especially towards the end of the run. Generally speaking, panel-to-panel storytelling sequentiality isn't Kirby's greatest gift; meaning the transition from one panel to the next is more akin to a jump cut, creating a bit of a jolting reading experience from start to finish, but again this likely has to do with Kirby's eagerness to draw new stuff rather than draw and redraw too much of the same. The end result is that while page readability may not be entirely smooth, each panel is worthy of being its own pop-art painting! Indeed, this is the stage of Kirby's development where he grew into becoming an aestheticist with an entirely unique vision and fingerprint. It almost feels like comix as a medium was a little too confining for Kirby at this point and he may have done very well to explore the depths of his imagination and artistry as a fine artist instead, with far less boundaries in form and function.

NEW GODS' course is clearly set in the very first issue: an inevitable showdown between Orion and Darkseid, and it does get there, but it meanders quite a bit along the way. Something that on the one hand can be exciting, especially if read as intended (a series of adventuresome episodes) but on the other hand a little frustrating if considered... hmm, novelistically (which would be unfair to do because it was never conceived as such). As episodes, Kirby does a great job of making each issue its own exciting stand alone battle comic, always introducing a new character, a new challenge, and intriguing new concepts. Naturally though, some episodes are better than others. Issue #7 has got to be the undisputed high point in the series, presenting us with a gloriously operatic backstory to what will become the everlasting feud between New Genesis and Apokolips, a complete epic filled with romance, betrayal, cosmic battles, political intrigue, and awesome fights all within a mere 24 pages. It's a landmark issue, and emblematic of the kind of work that Kirby would've really liked to do in NEW GODS if his note on the very first page is any indication: “From time to time—this kind of segment will supplement the larger tapestry of the New Gods. Thank you – Jack Kirby”

Kirby wouldn't get another chance to do this again except to some degree in issue 9 where he introduces The Bug, otherwise referred to as Forager (it's a little confusing). Another civilization of New Genesis is explored, that of the underground insectoids to which Forager is affiliated, another tale of grand drama, sacrifice, and of course, awesome battles!

Issues 4 and 5 are noteworthy for the 4-page introductions featuring Metron, the former a quick look at a young planet, and the latter a flyby “the final barrier” where a colossal being larger than a star cluster drifts shackled to “the fragments of devices”. Mad, grand, and beautiful cosmic explorations that would've been a rich and welcomed addition to the series had they been regularly incorporated into each issue. Alas, not the case. Another welcomed addition would've been more of the backup stories included in issues 5 and 7, “The Young Gods of Supertown”, shedding light on the kind of trouble the young ones of New Genesis get up to, independent of the whole Orion/Darkseid storyline. But again, we only get a couple of such installments.

Also worthy of note are issues 6 and 8, possibly the most brutal of stories Kirby has ever done, both involving grand destructive battles on Earth (especially issue 8), and both involving terrible afflictions to human bystanders making them really ahead of their time as far as superhero comix are concerned.

All in all, NEW GODS is a fabulous dossier of grand world-building, with new imaginative ideas introduced on every other page. Neither the storylines themselves nor the storytelling are anything to write home about, but the book will not let up on colorful characters, exciting compositions, and awesome technologies that only Kirby's imagination could conjure up. Within it is the seed for many a fantastic comicbook story, cosmic and street, mythological and grounded, something DC Comics missed the chance to properly build upon when Kirby was still alive. Rather than contract him for 15 pages a week, I imagine DC would've done themselves (and Kirby himself) a great service had they contracted him for just one series while overseeing a line of comix created by other artists/writers based on his NEW GODS. It's obvious that his having to work on a handful of other titles alongside NEW GODS contributed somewhat to the scattered meanderings of the tale.

In the end, Jack Kirby's NEW GODS is more an example of what could've been, rather than a story of what is. It starts off exciting and brimming with potential, but then midway through becomes little more than sad and misguided.

[Buy]

#comix