BookBin2011: The Alcoholic

One of the most fascinating things that I have discovered about the graphic novel is how many depict writers’ attempts to plumb the depths of their (or their families’) souls in poignant and uncomfortable ways. Uncomfortable for them. Uncomfortable for us. Sometimes, the best literature is the kind that leaves us feeling unsettled afterward.

When it leaves you feeling somewhat apathetic, that’s either a sign that you haven’t done something correctly…or that your audience reads too many disturbing memoirs.

I think Jonathan Ames’s The Alcoholic falls mostly into this latter category. I’ve read several graphic novel memoirs of darkly revelatory natures. I’ve also read several regular memoirs that deal with similar issues and vices as those of Ames’s protagonist (admittedly, though, Ames is the first one to feature an “octogenarian dwarf” in his storyline). Ames falls somewhere in the middle of these previous reads. His story about his submersion into alcohol and drugs is compelling, his writing style is engaging, and the accompanying artwork by illustrator Dean Haspiel is clean and sometimes clever. However, I think the cover art is the most appealing design work from this book. I love the components of the bar scene used in such a tantalizing tableau.

I don’t mean to come across as so dismissive of Ames’s novel. If you aren’t like me and make a habit of picking up similar works on a regular basis, you might find this to be a provocative memoir. Ames is honest and oftentimes quite funny in that self-deprecating way mastered by the damaged. The ending is patently predictable, but that can be forgiven in light of a solidly and entertainingly told story preceding it.

Final Verdict: Again, it was an interesting diversion, but not something that I foresee purchasing for my library.

BookBin2011: A Sickness in the Family

Our beautiful library’s graphic novel section just keeps getting better and better each time I visit. It’s a ploy, denizens. They know what to do to foil my desperate attempts to read only books from my own library. If only I was strong enough to resist the clarion call of all those beautiful books, just waiting to be mine, if only for a little while…

During this recent trip, I tried to limit myself solely to the graphic novel section. These are always faster reads, which means that I can quickly get back to whatever non-pictorial literature I was reading before the latest graphic divergence. Also, I’ve really enjoyed the graphic novel discoveries that I have made this year. There’s something so uninhibited about this particular medium of storytelling. Plus, there’s the doubled delight when you discover a brilliant story depicted by an incomparable artist (see Blacksad, which remains one of my favorite BookBin2011 reads).

I ended up leaving with five books from this section (and two from the nearby short story section, but we’ll get to the them when the time is right). First to be cracked open? Vertigo Crime’s A Sickness in the Family.

Written by crime novelist Denise Mina, this is the tightly wound tale of a family that moves at Mach-5 speed from the realm of marginally dysfunctional to irrefutably broken. Of course, being a crime comic, the end result of this damaging downgrade is death of diabolical proportions.

The Usher family finds their numbers dwindling a notch at a time after the father opts to purchase the downstairs apartment so he can increase the size of the family home. Of course, the downstairs came to him for a song after its previous tenants killed each other in a gruesome holiday-fueled domestic disturbance.

Is the ill will that’s now befalling the Ushers the remnants of a curse that haunts the land on which their home is built? Or is something far less spectral…and far more sinister that is causing the Fall of the House of Usher?

Ah. I was waiting this whole time to squeeze that one in. Edgar Allan Poe, FTW.

Artwork by Antonio Fuso is clean and concise, but not really much to write home about. Fuso’s done a lot of illustration for G.I. Joe comics. Let that be whatever you wish it to be.

Final Verdict: Interesting side trip of a read, but not a book that I feel I need to add to my library any time soon.

BookBin2011: Blacksad

Palate-cleansing time, denizens. I needed something a little less dense to recuperate from the exhaustion of slogging through my last BookBin read. So while at our local library this past weekend (where I was ironically looking for The Girl Who Played With Fire), I strolled over to the graphic novel section.

[Loba Tangent: I’d like to point out that our library has set up a corner designed as though they knew one day I would walk through their doors: graphic novels, right next to science fiction, right next to horror. I could kiss those crazy, prescient librarians.]

I noticed a couple of new titles since my last visit, including an oversized book with a bizarre name and a gorgeous and confusing cover. Plus, the font choices and placement screamed homage to 40s-era noir film posters, which also intrigued me, especially when combined with the anthropomorphic punim glaring at me through the ciggie smoke.

Blacksad was a remarkable find, denizens, and one we can thank Dark Horse Comics for bringing to the U.S. market. It took a while for these comics to be translated from their original Spanish into English; in fact, the third offering in this collection had never appeared in translated form until this compendium. But I can assure you, it was worth the wait.

Author Juan Diaz Canales and artist Juanjo Guarnido combined efforts to bring to the page a gloriously gritty send-up to classic noir tropes of a bygone era…with an animalistic twist. All of the characters, including P.I. John Blacksad, are animals: cats, dogs, polar bears, deer, magpies, horses…all drawn in ways that are eerily human. At times the quality of expression and movement is disconcerting, but the overall effect is stunningly satisfying.

In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it’s worth it to pick up a copy of Blacksad solely for Guarnido’s artwork, full of enough detail to ground it in the reality of its chosen time frame, but presented in these rich watercolor diasporas that give each tableau a hauntingly memorable quality.

Final Verdict: High-quality hard-cover collection of fast-paced, well-written stories presented through some of the most gorgeous, gritty illustrations I’ve ever seen in comic book form? Definitely at the top of my wish list for ASAP addition to my library.