Graphic Novels: Creepy Comeback

Horror comics verged on RIP after Frederik Wertham’s scathing 1950s attack on comic books, which touched off a censorship wave and led to the Comics Code. The code gutted comics of edgy content, fright fests, realistic love and romance plots, and other adult matter, leaving the medium mostly to superheroes and mild-mannered teen comedies like Archie. Fortunately, changes in the code and in comics distribution made possible a comeback for horror stories and franker content, as well as enabled more control over children’s access to adult material.

For the nostalgic, the original EC Comics series Tales from the Crypt is now available in collected hardcovers from Gemstone. In the wake of Quentin Tarantino’s movies, these stories seem campy and even—if unintentionally—humorous, which makes the series appropriate for ages 13+. Today, horror themes mutate throughout all genres: humor, romance, Western, detective, sf, etc.

America’s real first family, the Simpsons, star in the Bart Simpson’s Treehouse of Horror series, where the yucks are quite intentional (for ages 10+). Gooey mutants and gunplay deliver good ole frontier justice in waggish Billy the Kid’s Old Timey Oddities (for ages 16+). Older teens will also appreciate the multilayered, darkly funny I Luv Halloween, which follows maverick preteens trick-or-treating in a world going zombie-weird.

More sweet than shivery, the teen comedy My Dead Girlfriend (Xpress Reviews, 3/15/07) introduces a new challenge to young love. Sardonic teen goth favorite Courtney Crumrin darkens the wizard-in-training formula; the series has recently been optioned by Dreamworks. While the pop-culture-puppeteer vampires in Night Trippers (Xpress Reviews, 7/15/06) won YALSA mention, this skillful send-up of the 1960s should also amuse the boomer generation.

Decidedly adult, multiple-Eisner nominee The Walking Dead (Xpress Reviews 4/1/07) leads the genre into new directions as the undead push the living to the limits of their humanity. With its gorgeous guy-vamps influenced by shojo, the adult Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter: Guilty Pleasures spins off the immense popularity of the sexy Laurell K. Hamilton novels. Wormwood: Gentleman Corpse introduces an engaging if larval detective (see review, p. 42).

In manga, Hellsing’s fanged hero Alucard, with acolyte Victoria “Police Girl,” boasts myriad fans for their endless war against the zombies (for ages 13+). From Rumiko Takahashi comes the finely plotted Mermaid Saga (LJ 5/15/07), where cannibalistic immortality usually backfires. Then there’s Parasyte (see review, p. 42), which twists the possession theme into sf directions (see review, p. 42), and Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service (Xpress Reviews, 11/1/06), which introduces a paranormally talented hit squad investigating corpses that have something to say about their demise. Winning romances include Vampire Knight (Xpress Reviews, 2/15/07) and the comic Chibi Vampire (see review, p. 42).

Indeed, comedy permeates much manga horror, from the elegant Pet Shop of Horrors (LJ 3/15/05) to the epitome of gross-out, Octopus Girl (see review, p. 46). Junko Mizuno reenvisions Western fairy tales through her hypercute aesthetic; in the playful Cinderalla (sic), the Prince is a zombie singer (get it?), and Cinderalla must go zombie herself to attend his dinner show. But in zombie fashion, she drops an eyeball—not a slipper—to trigger the happy ending. Hansel & Gretel reveals the sweets-pushing witch as a resentful former classmate of feisty Gretel (both titles for ages 16+).

So horror comics rise again to multiply and infuse fresh frisson into comics. Fall titles include an all-new Tales from the Crypt collection (Papercutz), Presents (CMX), and the concluding volume of I Luv Halloween.

After a 20-month hiatus during which the future of the series in English was uncertain, ADV Manga has finally released a new volume of Azuma’s (Azumanga Daioh) winning manga comedy, of which Vol. 1 made LJ’s Best Graphic Novels of 2005 list (LJ 1/06). This series focuses on the day-to-day life of Yotsuba, an independent and enthusiastic but naive six-year-old girl, as she tries to make sense of her world with the help of friends, neighbors, and her easygoing adoptive father. In this volume, she demonstrates her secret badminton technique, goes fishing and grocery shopping, and even starts her own newspaper. Yotsuba can be the quintessential kid who says the darndest things, as when she clumsily tries to cheer up middle-sister-next-door Fuka, who’s been disappointed in love. But the series also has real heart and an appealing whimsy, shown here when Yotsuba acts out a dream she has about the ending of summer. And part of its charm is that some of the people around Yotsuba aren’t afraid to mess with her head a little bit, all in fun. The appeal of this series ranges across genders and age groups, and it remains highly recommended for all libraries.—S.R.

Just as Will Eisner was not the first to use the term graphic novel, celebrated Japanese ukiyo-e woodblock print artist Katsushika Hokusai (1760–1849)—famous for The Great Wave—apparently did not coin the term manga, as is commonly assumed. But each man’s choice of terminology was seemingly influential in fixing a name for a modern art form. Published serially between 1814 and 1878, Hokusai’s Manga (“whimsical pictures”) is made up of a series of 15 sketchbooks originally intended to instruct aspiring artists. Bouquillard and Marquet’s survey reproduces 120 pages of the Manga, together with commentary and notes on earlier guidebooks that served as Hokusai’s models. The contents range widely, including idyllic nature scenes, exacting architectural drawings, and jumbled sketches of contortionists, sumo wrestlers, and insects. Depictions of the natural world and everyday life sit beside ghosts, Buddhist gods, and such flights of fancy as the long-necked cover model and a group of kimono-clad mice. Hokusai’s sketches do not tell stories in sequence and thus are not comics, and their links to modern manga are indirect. But Hokusai’s accomplished naturalism and humor are arguably stylistically closer to modern cartooning than most other ukiyo-e, and his work can be appreciated by comics fans interested in Japanese history. Recommended for all art collections.—S.R.

Much-lauded fantasists Gaiman (Anansi Boys) and Vess (The Book of Ballads), who together won a World Fantasy Award for the “Midsummer Night’s Dream” issue of Sandman, first published this thoroughly enchanting fairy story in 1997–98. Tristran Thorn grows up in the English village of Wall unaware that his mother was from the Fairy land beyond the town’s titular barrier. But when the girl he loves laughingly promises him anything he desires if he can bring her a star that has just fallen from the sky, Tristran gallantly and rashly ventures into the Fairy land upon this quest. He finds wonders and dangers, witches and magical creatures, and eventually learns what it is he genuinely desires. The story is told not in comics form but in Gaiman’s sparkling prose, with nearly every page featuring an exquisite painted illustration, rich in detail and color, by Vess. This oversized hardcover, released concurrently with the Stardust film, features 30 pages of supplementary material, including new illustrations and the original Stardust proposal. There’s also a paperback edition with fewer extras and a text-only version published by Harper. Spiced with blood, sex, and genial humor, this wonderful tale is highly recommended for fantasy-loving older teens and adults.—S.R.

A horror classic walks again in this eight-volume series originally published in the late 1990s by Tokyopop. Alien spores from space hatch into larvae, which enter the brains of unsuspecting humans. The repossessed individuals appear normal but can morph their heads into lethal weapons and slaughter other humans for food. Teenage Shinichi is infected, but the parasite takes over only his right hand. Dubbed Migi (right in Japanese), the parasite and Shin form an uneasy partnership to survive and ultimately protect other humans from Migi’s more deadly peers. Later in the series, parasite-turned-scientist Reiko provokes the other parasites to split ranks for or against her ideas about peaceful coexistence with their human hosts. Ultimately, she becomes a tragic Madonna, as the series raises questions about the nature of humanity, the role of humans and human emotions in the global and galactic ecosystem, and the purpose of life, human and otherwise. Shinichi’s romantic relationship is underdeveloped, and the art has a clunkiness that paradoxically heightens the unsettling content and gore-spattered action. Including translator’s notes on cultural references; recommended for older teens and up owing to violence, strong language, and occasional sexual content.—M.C.

More angel of mercy than vampire, teenage Karin donates blood instead of draining it. With an appetite for suffering humans, she infuses her victims with vitality and purpose. But her family is made up of all “normal” vampires. What’s to do? Then her maybe romance with transfer student Kenta introduces a whole new dimension of chaos. When he finds her with a gushing nosebleed (she has them monthly if she doesn’t find a victim), she gets him to keep her secret. He’s even willing to help her. Since he and his mother are in difficult circumstances, Karin dearly wants to bite them—and it would help them if she did—but the situation is complicated by Karin’s playboy brother who has his eye on Kenta’s mom. This 11-volume mash-up of romance, slapstick, and light horror comes off as inventive and charming. The art has a few cute touches—Karin’s hair subtly resembles bat wings. All volumes contain Kagesaki’s autobiographical extras about creating the manga, which is titled Karin in Japan. With some sexual themes, including prostitution and sexual harassment, but no nudity or explicitness, this strong series is recommended for ages 16+. Related anime and novel series are also available.—M.C.

High schooler Kahoko Hino is the only student at Seisou Academy who can see Lili the music fairy, so even though Kahoko isn’t studying music, Lili gives her a magic violin that grants her playing skills but not the emotion and commitment necessary for good performing. Entered against her will in the school’s prestigious music competition, Kahoko becomes inspired by the playing of her opponents (mostly gorgeous boys). After coming in last place in the first round, Kahoko is practicing in this volume, when suddenly suave and seemingly kind flute player Azuma (who came in second) begins harassing her in private, pushing her to withdraw from the competition and leaving her shaken. Azuma’s behavior seems contrived to spice up a story that’s been somewhat bland. It features occasionally involving drama but only light and shopworn humor and tame romantic hints between Kahoko and, alternately, cold-mannered violinist Len, fun-loving trumpeter Kazuki, and soccer star Ryotaro, who’s returning to piano performance after a bad childhood experience. Still, Kure’s artwork is attractive, and the performance scenes are evocative despite the absence of sound. This ongoing shojo manga, accurately rated for teens, is recommended for larger collections and wherever the musical subject will draw interest.—S.R.

In this horror-detective romp, tarts with killer tattoos battle squid-mouthed monsters, all presided over by a private eye of a different kind: Wormwood, a wisecracking maggot who operates corpses from his perch in the eye socket. Besides solving crimes, he savors beer, cigarettes, badass ladies, and dry humor: “This is my specimen room. I also brew beer here. Don’t ever confuse the two. I have.” Sidekicks include Mr. Pendulum, built from a grandfather clock and beer cans (unfortunately, Mr. P is without any “bits”—as in naughty bits); ghost cop friend Trotsky, who’s working off his karma by solving human problems; and hitwoman Phoebe Phoenix. Big guns help, too. The crisis du jour concerns exploding pregnancies that spawn nasty Cthulhu-type critters. Could a tainted Viagra-like drug be behind it? Perhaps a demon sperm donor? The art forms a grotesque and murky banquet of shape and color: Lovecraft on laughing gas channeled through Ralph Steadman. With common ingredients—corpses, punkettes, ghosts, tentacles, and interdimensional gateways—Australian Templesmith crafts a goofy, surprising, and oddly beautiful tour de force. Strong language, moderate gore, and (inexplicit) sexual content make this for older teens up.—M.C.

In this incarnation of the Legion of Super-Heroes—a group of superpowered teens from many worlds who battle crime 1000 years in the future and whose story has gone through many revamps and reboots since their 1958 debut—the 20 Legionnaires attempt to emulate the legendary heroes of Earth’s past, but here they are also revolutionaries. They lead a 100,000-strong youth movement opposing the stultifying society of the United Planets, in which most “underagers” are constantly monitored by a Big Brother–like network called “Public Service.” In this fourth volume of the current series, with the Legion’s street cred crumbling over its decision to accept United Planets funding and official status, a new group emerges aiming to take the Legion down. Superintelligent Brainiac 5’s attempt to resurrect dead team member Dream Girl has an unexpected result, and Supergirl, newly and mysteriously arrived from the 20th century, visits the Kryptonian survivors of Kandor. Waid (Kingdom Come; Fantastic Four) infuses many fresh and invigorating ideas into the series and gives the Legionnaires some recognizably teenage emotions. With more potential teen appeal than some of today’s adult-aimed superhero series, this is recommended for all collections.—S.R.

Fledgling superheroine Empowered has become an associate member of the Superhomeys but feels inferior to her teammates. Not only does she lack experience, but the formfitting bodysuit that gives her superabilities (and makes her self-conscious about the size of her posterior) also tends to shred at the merest touch—and as she loses her costume, she also gradually loses her powers, which leaves her helpless against the bad guys who would like to tie her up. Around this suggestive premise, writer and artist Warren (Livewires; Dirty Pair; Titans: Scissors, Paper, Stone) creates a hilarious satire and deconstruction of superhero stories. Amid the bondage and crime fighting in the 40 vignettes presented here, our heroine acquires a supporting cast, including magic user Sistah Spooky, steel-plated Capitan Rivet, hard-drinking girl pal Ninjette, and, wonder of wonders, an ex-criminal boyfriend who’s great in the sack and actually cares for her. Warren’s writing is filled with great dialog, witty neologisms, and genre-busting ideas; his dynamic, accomplished (and yes, sexy) manga-meets-superhero artwork is reproduced directly from his pencils with no inking or colors. The parental advisory sticker on the cover is well earned by nudity, sex, and an adult frankness about sex-related topics. Fun for adults.—S.R.

Beyond superheroines and girls with guns comes a duo to pervert shojo clichés with gross-out gore. Sweet but silly Takako is no match for high school bullies until an allergic reaction to force-fed octopus gives her an octopus body. Sweet no more, she takes gleeful revenge on her tormenters—suffocating them by stuffing her eight arms down their nose and throat and then popping their eyeballs out for good measure. Then she meets Sakae, who has the body of a moray eel. The girls make a deal with a sea witch to revert to human form at will and then prance through grisly, disgusting, and often hilarious vignettes about the usual teen obsessions: guys, school, jobs, careers, marriage fantasies, and who’s prettier. But Takako and Sakae always end up in encounters awash in drool, snot, vomit, excrement, and entrails, dealing out nastiness interspersed with saccharine cheer to folks nastier than they are and sometimes just bystanders. “Victims” includes a mad doctor, several ghouls, a Satanic cult, an alien intent on conquering Earth, and the tough Vampire Granny. The occasionally nonhumorous stories don’t succeed as well as the mixture of crass humor, satire, and horror these girls wallow in. Rated for ages 18+ for gore, strong language, and some nudity, it is for collections where Mad magazine has older fans.—M.C.

Despite manga’s popularity and its attraction for teens, concerns about cultural differences, content, visual style, and age ratings may dampen librarian enthusiasm. Much needed, this first guide to manga and anime for librarians succeeds admirably with enthusiasm, detail, and copious resources. Assuming no familiarity with manga and only minimal comics savvy, Brenner begins with the whys of comics and specifically manga in libraries. Initial chapters cover the history of the two formats, visual and narrative conventions, and “culture clash.” Middle chapters profile major plot types, with historical and cultural contexts and examples. The focus is on such manga and anime standbys as ninjas, schoolgirls, samurai, and giant robots. Two outstanding chapters tackle fan culture and promotions and programs. The concluding chapter on collection development recommends titles; a glossary, FAQs, and an excellent bibliography complete the guide. Highly recommended for all libraries interested in collecting manga and anime; it can be used as a resource for responding to censorship challenges. Brenner (see her “Romance by Any Other Name,” p. 44) is a Massachusetts teen librarian who runs the No Flying No Tights web site, sits on the YALSA Great Graphic Novels for Teens committee, was an Eisner Award judge this year, and is a regular panelist at ALA and BEA. Her collection development article on anime, “Anime’s Brave New World,” ran in the July 2007 issue of LJ.—M.C.

This gorgeous catalog brings the 2007 Jackson State University exhibition to the armchair, showcasing powerful, emotional imagery in over 100 excerpts, many in color, from more than 40 artists/creators. A number of essays rounds out the book, plus a preface by Dwayne McDuffie, cocreator of the “Milestone” series of black superheroes and a writer for Fantastic Four and The Justice League. Comics journalist R.C. Harvey discusses pioneer E. Sims Campbell, whose sultry glam girls graced Esquire for 40 years and also Playboy. Independent scholar Nancy Goldstein introduces Jackie Ormes, vanguard artist for the Torchy Brown strip. Historian William Foster contributes perspectives on black women characters. Curators Jennings and Duffy conjecture about black superheroes. Black Age of Comics convention founder Turtel Onli writes about the rise of African American artists and sensibilities in comics. Writer/creator Alex Simmons talks about his own life and work on the Blackjack series and as author of plays and juvenile books. See also Looking for a Face Like Mine (Fine Tooth Pr., PO Box 11512, Waterbury, CT 06703), essays and interviews from Foster who curated the similarly named exhibit at the New York Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art; and Black Images in the Comics by Fredrik Strömberg (Fantagraphics). This titles is essential for public and academic libraries. [All profits made past printing costs will be donated to the Scholarship America Disaster Relief Fund to help Hurricane Katrina and Rita survivors seek postsecondary education.—Ed.]—M.C.

This latest entry in the “Conversations with Comic Artists” series (following volumes on Carl Barks, Charles M. Schulz, R. Crumb, and others) covers someone who is not known as a visual artist but who states herein that he always wanted to be one. Instead, Lee became a comics legend as a writer and editor, when during the 1960s he and his artist collaborators (including Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko) created Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, the Hulk, the X-Men, and many other much-loved heroes. This book collects 19 interviews given by Stan the Man from 1968 to 2005, some of which are previously unpublished, along with Lee’s moving poem “God Woke.” The portrait that emerges is of a charming extrovert, a hugely creative writer who also understood the business side of publishing, and an enthusiastic supporter of not only Marvel Comics but also comics in general. Lee was ahead of his time in the late 1960s in defending comics as an educational tool, a literacy booster, and a valid art form that deserves respect, in which the quality could be the equal of any film or novel. Entertaining and informative, this is recommended for all collections.—S.R.

With 50 volumes so far in Japan and 30 translated into English, the InuYasha universe has considerably increased in complexity, and the numerous characters, battles, artifacts, and minutiae can easily derail newbies who may have glimpsed only a few Cartoon Network episodes of the anime. This heavily illustrated handbook, current through Vol. 30, conveys much of the appeal and texture of the series while providing clues for new readers, plus fan fodder for regulars. Three separate chapters profile main characters in some detail: heroic, villainous, and grey. A fourth covers the humans and nonhuman minor players, each entry keyed to volume and page. Another feature is an extensive list of battles with points of interest. A further chapter addresses travel during Japan’s Warring States period (1482–1558). A concluding Takahashi profile follows the manga-ka as she plots and draws an InuYasha episode. While rich and authoritative, the handbook may confuse neophytes since there is no overall index—its major flaw. However, the text is made easier to scan for character names via edge-page tags. More complete and structured reference works will doubtless come out after InuYasha ends. For libraries where the series is popular.—M.C.