Archive for the Western Comic/Comix Category


Lesbian Graphic Novel: Skim

March 14th, 2008

There are many things to like about Skim, by Mariko and Jillian Tamaki.

Right from the start, I was intrigued. The book is hardcover, larger than I expected, with a decidedly “classical” Japanese face on the cover, reminiscent of Heian art. A face with heavy cheeks, high, plucked eyebrows and a small, shapely mouth. And, when I opened the covers, this is indeed what our heroine looks like. A classic Japanese face. If she had ever smiled, I’m sure I’d have been surprised if her teeth weren’t blacked out. ^_^

The story is constructed as a series of diary entries, which gave it the feel of a pillow book, and just added to the classical ambiance.

The art is not manga-style. It’s not really American comics either. There’s a distinct style to it, informed by both Japanese and western art, but it’s completely it’s own thing. I liked it quite a bit.

Kim, known as “Skim,” is 16, a Wiccan-in-training, and Gothic, but not at all Goth. She’s a smart girl, perceptive and incredibly down to earth, surrounded by adults who think they understand what it’s like to be 16 (is there *anything* more galling?), friends who haven’t the vaguest clue what she’s really like or what is really important to her and peers who, well they aren’t her peers, anyway.

She’s romantic, realistic, full of hope and hopelessness, and everything else a real person is. She might also be gay, but it’s kind of hard for either her or us to know at this point.

Above all, Kim is someone that not only would I have over for lunch, I’d have her over again and again, until she got past 16 and was allowed to be human.

Then there’s the bitter humor of a person smarter than most of the folks around her. She’s taken to a Wiccan coven that also turns out to be a AA meeting. Both the wife and I thought that was hysterical. (Our Druid grove isn’t an AA group, but it is awfully like attending a meeting for Adult Children of Co-Dependents Anonymous, or something equally as sad.) Her response when her friend Lisa fills her in – after the fact – about it being an AA meeting, “You think you’d tell someone that beforehand.” She’s just sayin’.

When Kim falls for her teacher there’s nothing at all icky about it. The teacher isn’t really abusing her position, Kim isn’t making a bad choice. It’s an honest attraction that, in two more years, wouldn’t be that much of an issue at all. Kim isn’t quite sure what to think, while it’s quite obvious that the teacher’s feelings are serious enough that she ends up having to make hard decisions. I thought the whole love thing was handled beautifully. (I’d like to say more about it but I don’t want to spoil anything. Just – it was nice. And mature, the wife says.)

In fact, I thought the whole book was handled beautifully. I finished reading it and handed it to the wife – which I NEVER do, because she and I like completely different things. She read it and amazingly, she liked it as much as I did. (I know that that will meaning nothing to those of you who haven’t met her, but those of you who have, will understand how significant that is. ^_^)

To sum up, for character, for the story, for the art and for a realistic, but not at all angsty look at teenage angst, I really cannot recommend Skim enough.

Ratings:

Art – 8
Story – 9
Characters – 9
Yuri – 5
Service – 0

Overall – 9

Speaking of “top ten” candidates…..





Event Report: Book Signing at Jim Hanley’s Universe and Comic: Dolltopia

January 20th, 2008

Here’s a quick report on the book signing I did the other night, and a little review, too!

Jim Hanley’s Universe, seen on the left, is immediately across the street from the Empire State Building. I took a picture looking up at it from below, but it didn’t really come out. Oh well. I like the ESB – so deco, so excessive, so phallic, so shiny.

I arrived early. I always arrive early. It’s my nature. And not only were we expected, with a table set out and all, it even had good placement right up near the front of the shop. The staff at Jim Hanley’s Universe were *fabulous*. Every last person we dealt with was as nice as can be and they really did a great job of making us feel welcome. Thanks Vito and Harry and everyone at JHU!

I sold a book or two before Abby or J.D. even arrived, which set my whole evening off on a good footing. :-) Then Abby came and got herself all set up. We chatted a bit until at about 6:30 when people started to arrive – except JD, who was stuck in traffic. :-) Patty and David from Prism Comics came and made sure we were all good to go.

I was so pleased that some friendly faces showed to provide support. Mari, John, Chet and Yuri Monogatari 5 artist Jess B. who made a stealth appearance! I made her sign books, but she sneaked out when I wasn’t looking. lol

J.D. finally made it and before she even got her coat off, I made us take pictures together, because I would have completely forgotten to, otherwise. :-) From the left, it’s J. D, me, and Abby.

We really had a terrific time. All three of us sold each other’s books, which was pretty funny. “Now that you’ve bought this book,” we’d say, you should buy one from these two.” And for the most part, people did! Since people came for each of us specifically, it was a very cool way to get our books in front of people who might not otherwise have learned about us. After it was all over, we decided that it was so much fun, we’d definitely try to do this again in the summer as a Pride event. Prism continues to be the least sucky GLBT group I’ve ever dealt with.

Abby quite generously gave me a copy of her Dolltopia comic and I absolutely wanted to tell you all about it immediately. You’ll love it. Run right out and get a few copies for yourself and friends – it would make a great “thinking about you” gift for someone. In fact, next time I see Abby, I’m buying a handful and giving it to friends. It’s like 2 bucks, so there’s really no excuse when you figure it’s cheaper than a cup of coffee at Starbucks.

Dolltopia is a mini comic series about doll interior lives and what they do when they break free from the constraints of their molded characteristics. Dolltopia is the world that dolls have constructed for themselves. Inhabiting this world are many dolls that have taken freedom into their own hands, including two modified “Darling Candy” dolls, Candy-O and her partner Candy-X. And yes, that’s parter, as in “life partner.” Abby says of the “Darling Candy” dolls, that they are based on a popular doll model that everyone would recognize. She told me that as a kid, she always used to hack their hair off, make her own clothes for them and drawn makeup and tattoos on them. This was, in part, the inspiration for Dolltopia.

The themes that permeate this comic, “who am I?” “what is my role?” “how can I be free?” are the same as in many an anime and manga relating to artificial intelligences. And they resonate with people because despite our apparent freedom, many of us find ourselves trapped in our bodies, our roles, the perceptions of what we can and cannot do – just like the dolls in Dolltopia. This is a mini-comic that packs a pretty solid punch. And it has non-creepy lesbian dolls, what more can you ask for? lol

Thanks to Abby for turning me on to this series, I now await the next volume impatiently. ;-) And thanks to everyone who came to the event, (I was told that we drew a bigger crowd than a well-known DC artist with the explanation, “But he’s an asshole and you guys aren’t.” LOL) Thanks again to the staff at JHU, and J.D. for setting this all up and Prism Comics for being in existence. It was a fantastic evening all around.





Lesbian Comix: Definition and Potential

May 5th, 2007

Today’s review is a first for Okazu. Our Guest Reviewer, Jen, has made many dozens of comments here, but this is the first review she’s written for us. I’m thrilled beyond belief to introduce you all to such an original thinker, and funny, funny gal. Take it away Jen!

Forgive the stream-of-consciousness writing style of this review, as it wasn’t done in one sitting… despite the act of sitting itself being enjoyed thoroughly both times.Just finished Ariel Schrag’s DEFINITION, and the sequel POTENTIAL.

These are auto-biographical comics of Ariel’s experiences in school as an “omigod I lust after girls YAY ME!” lesbian. On the plus side; she wrote, drew and published at such a very young age. Attended comic cons to sell her wares, too. I am quite impressed.

Over the course of both volumes (earlier and latter works available) we marvel as Arial’s illustrative skill grows in parallel to her own character as she slowly (awkwardly, painfully, insert negative yet faintly nostalgic buzzword for teen experience HERE) wades her way through adolescence the way almost all of us did: Teens; you don’t live them, you merely survive them.

POTENTIAL is the perfect title for volume #2, as we are now quite familiar with Arial’s emotional highs and lows from the childish misadventures of DEFINITION, and now we hope for nothing but the best for her as she bravely does all she can to turn crushes into genuine sexual relationships with all the “you are my soul mate” type of sincerity that comes with such leaps of faith. And with that, the positives of these books begins to drain (“drain” now redefined in my vocabulary. That shows you the emotional attachment I now have to Arial by proxy.)

On the negative… well there’s a few, but it’s probably just me. Stepping back, volume #1 was mostly recurring tales of problematic family life, disturbing sweet-sixteen experiences and “let’s get drunk and see what really horrible things can happen to me and my girlfriends” type stories. These were her “Gee I must be bi” years, so she’s still actively seeking a boyfriend, all quite unnerving as Arial draws herself and those around her far smaller and vulnerable than a true sixteen year old would be depicted.

This mostly continues into POTENTIAL, where despite the “Yes I am in fact gay and it’s time to DO something about it” proclamation in the opening chapter, her strategy remains drinking heavily/doing drugs and then hoping something real good happens (guess the odds). It’s hard to empathize with someone who keeps doing that to herself (even though all her friends think this plan is a winner… and hey, “that’s what you do in school, right?”).

That brings me to my problem with most “comix”, that being they’re not fiction. Fictional Yuri stories *can* be created with in-depth characters and a story structure with a satisfying ending. With real life you get recurring awkward experiences with real people possessing frustrating/unexplainable behaviours that just leave you unsatisfied.

Add to the fact that the story is told quite openly with all sexual and emotional car wrecks recounted in detail, there’s a sharp sense of voyeurism I got from this. I didn’t get that with Alison Bechdel’s FUN HOME, but then that’s in NO way a fair comparison. Arial is chronicling her romantic/sexual encounters (not what you’d call happy nor enjoyable), coupled with her family life (ditto) in real-time with no real retrospective narrative. It’s not a comfortable read in any way.

My opinions on comix as a publishing sub-genre notwithstanding, I still wanna meet her and have her sign the books. That’d be awesome.

A quick visit to her website tells us that these and other works are currently being adapted into a movie, and that when not story writing for THE L WORD, she’s working on more self-publishing and is one year younger than me.

…excuse me while I wallow in a quick Marimite/chocolate combo before sleeping it off and enjoying another day of admin at a job I hate. -__-

Ratings:
Art – 8. Varies wildly in quality and style, but expressively loveable all the same.
Story – 7. Better to have loved and lost and had your heart shredded over and over and over and it keeps getting worse oh God than never to have loved at all.
Characters – 6. Filtered through Arial’s eyes, but all sufficiently messed up to be believably human.
Yuri – 9. She tried. She honestly did. Poor thing.
Service – 4. Girls having lotsa sex, all thoroughly devoid of any enjoyment whatsoever…could that possibly matter?

Overall – 7

Erica here: One of the reasons I wanted to publish this review, particularly, was Jen’s comments about the autobiographical nature of “comix.” It put me in mind of Takeuchi Sachiko’s Honey & Honey, and also Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home right away. I’m all for using Takeuchi’s phrase “comic essays” to categorize these works which are *clearly* meant to be read as non-fiction autobiography, rather than as a “graphic novel.” I encourage you all to help disseminate this genre label of “comic essay”. ^_^

Let’s all thank Jen for the fabulous review!





Lesbian Graphic Novels: Fun Home and 12 Days

March 8th, 2007

I read both of these graphic novels this week and, as soon as I put down the second of the two, I knew that I absolutely had to review them together as a compare/contrast. So, I’m shaking out my old Comparative Literature Major for today’s review. It’s a bit dusty, let’s see how I do.

Both Fun Home, by Alison Bechdel and 12 Days, by June Kim are stories written by lesbians about lesbians that are not lesbian narratives, really, at all. Both stories are more properly seen as narratives of grief, of relationships and of missed opportunities for communication and closeness.

Alison Bechdel subtitled Fun Home a “Family Tragicomic” which suits it very well. It is indeed a graphic rendering of a family locked in tragedy, caught in moments from her life – and more importantly, from the life and death of her father. Alison tells her story through snatches of literature, photography, art, even her own diary from her childhood, in a series of repeated, but not repetitive looks at the relationships in her family and the relationship she had with her father, in particular.

12 Days is a story of a woman’s attempt to get over her grief for an ex-lover who has died. This process is complicated – and assisted – by the presence of her lover’s cousin, who brings her some of her her ex’s ashes, and stays around to escape his own issues with his family. Through Jackie and Nick’s reflections, we come to know a little bit, but not too much, about Noah, her life and her death.

Both books are executed exceptionally well. In Alison’s case, the limited use of color allows us to see the world almost as told through faded photos, while June’s black and white setting broken up only by the occasional use of gray, sets the whole thing off sharply, to good effect. In both cases, the art compliments the story exceedingly well. I’m almost tempted to say something tedious like, “one can’t imagine it being done any different” but you know really, one really can’t. ;-) Like Alison’s detailed art, her dialogue is rich, textured and flavored with quotes from many sources. June’s dialogue, like her art, is stark and limited.

Both of these stories center around a death. In both cases, the death itself is seen from several different angles through the course of non-linear narratives, and in both cases there is a surprising lack of anything like passion in the telling. Alison discusses *why* this is, the curious lack of affection and emotional connection in her family. In fact, the why of the lack of passion takes up a whole section within the book. In June’s case, I could *see* the emotion Jackie was feeling, but I found it hard to feel it myself. At the end of the book, I learned (because I really do read *everything* in a book, like the credits, the forewords, the introductions and, in this case, the dedications) that this was not June’s own story, but a story told to her by someone else. In her rendering of this story, it *feels* like it is someone else’s, someone over there. Not us. Them. Where Alison engaged me in her lack of passion, June failed to do so.

Fun Home is a book that is, from beginning to end, unremittingly intelligent. It is cloaked and festooned with references to literature and art and makes no allowances for those who have not read and/or seen – or at least heard of – these things. She compares her father to Oscar Wilde, to Proust, to Leopold Bloom and herself to Collette and Sylvia Beach and Stephen Daedalus. I cannot express how much this kind of intellectual burden makes me love a story. The hooks into myth, into early 20th century homosexual history and the art and literature it spawned practically gives me bookgasm. If Alison had asked, she couldn’t have found a better way to engage me in her story. I wonder how many people it put right off. ^_^

For 12 Days the hook is more heuristic, with the background told later, as an afterword. Jackie, deprived of her lover by miscommunication, by family pressure, by fate, perhaps, has decided to drink Noah’s ashes and thus “become a living urn” in order to put this behind her. We learn a lot about the circumstances of Noah and Jackie getting together, some of their life together, and much about Noah’s leaving to get married and her subsequent death – but we never really get to know either Noah, or Jackie, all that well. The only one we really manage to touch (and, I’m betting, the one character really created out of whole cloth by June) is Nick, the odd man out, the psychopomp for Jackie’s journey. Because I have not had an experience of my own to tie into Jackie’s feelings and give them depth, they simply lacked depth for me.

I didn’t not *enjoy* either book. But that is totally beside the point. They are both excellent and well worth reading. I feel enriched by having read them, an important benchmark for me and any literature.

To sum up:

June’s 12 Days was incredibly good, but I did not like it.

Alison’s Fun Home was incredibly good, and it simply doesn’t matter whether I liked it, or not.

Overall Ratings:

Fun Home – 10

12 Days – 9

I guess I can admit it now, I really don’t like Dykes to Watch Out For. Every single character failed my “would I have them over for lunch?” test, but Alison Bechdel and June Kim are welcome anytime.





American Comic: Y The Last Man

December 14th, 2006

The American comic Y, The Last Man has been on my “to review” list for months and months, but I just never quite found the time. I think “Anything at all but not another schoolgirl, I beg you!” week is the perfect time, don’t you?

Let me preface with review with the statement that I think, in general, this is a pretty good series. I needed to say that first, because most of my comments are going to be negative and it will sound like I hated the series…when, in fact, I didn’t.

To begin with, the plot of Y, The Last Man is a non-Eva post-apocalyptic world. One day, quite suddenly, all the males in the world drop dead. Except one. Hence the title.

The “Last Man” is Yorick. And here is my first complaint.

I can totally understand the appeal of the “everyman” character as a lead. I really can. What I can NOT understand is the appeal of the “nebbish loser” character as a lead. Yorick is a rich kid who is a huge slacker loser who, instead of sitting around playing video games and smoking dope, as one would expect, is sitting around practicing escape tricks and who has a pet monkey he can’t train. Oooookkkkaaayyy. If it works for you…

Secondly, immediately after all the men die, every woman we encounter appears to go completely mad. Any woman with any kind of governmental power is seen to be outrageously insane and make the stupidest and most illogical decisions possible. And lots of pockets of insane cults pop up…instantly. Like within a week.

Third. Every single character who is, or can perceived to be, a lesbian at the beginning of the book is not only insane, but also likely to be drugged, psychotic and evil. And while I like three of the four, they are also often boring ranting lunatics, which is simply dreadful.

And lastly, the thing that made me stop reading somewhere in Volume, 6 or maybe it was 7…or 8, was this; after *two years* we’re told that there are still no medicines and pharmaceuticals being made and distributed.

Now, I’m sorry. Two YEARS? I can personally vouch for the fact that about 1/3 of the folks who work in major global pharma firms are women. 6 months, tops. I can absolutely see production being stopped as all the women regrouped initially. But to think that, after TWO YEARS, womenkind – that is, 51% of the current population of the planet – hadn’t managed a single decent power grid, or distribution of food and medicine…that’s just plain insulting.

All that having been said, there is one major character who is a lesbian, and is not an insane raving lunatic-type psychotic…mostly. Dr. Allison Mann is a competent, intelligent and attractive woman who happens to be a lesbian. Her “coming out” was handled well; she is well past lesbian drama and throughout the whole story manages to stay interesting, intelligent, witty and only goes a teeny bit insane. (It is totally not her fault that she’s given an incredibly stupid backstory.)

Allison does manage to have sex and everything in the course of the story – without her or her lover dying. There’s got to be an award for that or something. The first time, it’s a “well that was a bad choice, but oh well, let’s move on, it was stupid but there you have it,” kind of thing, and her reaction when her erstwhile lover, 355, overreacts is the most realistic scene in the book. Later Allison nabs herself a hunky doodle of an Australian (supposedly) ex-intelligence officer, Rose. I didn’t trust her as far as I could kick her, but then I stopped caring and stopped reading.

So, as I said, overall, good series….

…but, fuck you Brian K. Vaughn and same to whomever wrote the Wikipedia entry with this line: “Y: The Last Man is Vaughan’s attempt to subvert the classic male fantasy of being the last man on earth.” No. There’s no suberversion there. It’s the same thing all over again. Loser guy is last man on earth. Wow. How original. Never been done before. We’ve come a long way, baby.

Ratings:

Art – 7
Story – 5
Characters – 7 tapering to 5 as the story goes on and they get weaker to support stupider and more outrageous plot complications.
Yuri – As a whole 3. Allison – 9
Service – 4

Overall – 7 tapering to 5 as the series goes on and….

Oh, and while we’re on the subject of American Comics, a hearty double fuck you to DC Comics for calling their new line designed to “get girls reading comics”, Minx. No…no condescension there. Uh-huh. Hardly at all.

So, after thinking about it, I sent this email to DC:

Dear DC,

I have the Beowulf comic you published in the 80’s where the “scop” uses lines like “Happy Birthday Caroline” backwards as magic spells and Beowulf looks like the Michelin Man. I will not hesitate to blackmail you with it if necessary. So listen up.

Girls already read comics. We always have. We *would* just really like to have female characters who are unabashedly whatever they are without justification or condescension. Calling a line “Minx” (which is the kind of thing letchs call women in trashy novels (“You little minx, you”) is not a good way to draw in women.

Hope that helps.

Sincerely,

Erica