Big Questions

Hello and welcome once again to What Are You Reading?, where every week we talk about the comics, books and other stuff we’ve been reading lately.

Our special guest this week is musician and comic creator Nate Powell, who you might know from his most recent graphic novel, Any Empire, or the Ignatz and Eisner Award-winning Swallow Me Whole. When he’s not creating comics, he’s hanging out at the United Nations with the likes of R.L. Stine, Ann M. Martin and other teen-fiction writers in support of What You Wish For, a collection of young adult stories and poems. Proceeds from the book will be used to fund libraries in Darfuri refugee camps in Chad.

To see what Nate and the Robot 6 crew have been reading, click below.

*****

Michael May

Planet of the Apes

In this week’s Food or Comics I said that I’d run out of ways to praise BOOM!’s Planet of the Apes series. Having read the seventh issue, I’ve found another one.

As the series has progressed, writer Daryl Gregory has been using the ape/human conflict to shine a light on human atrocities like terrorism and containment camps. I wasn’t comfortable with that at first-–in fact, I’m still not–but I realize that that’s the point. These are complex issues and it’s very much in the Planet of the Apes spirit to touch on them in a way that lets them remain difficult. Is terrorism always evil or are there ever causes that justify it? Planet of the Apes doesn’t claim to have the answers, but it’s raising the questions in fascinating and, perhaps more importantly, entertaining ways. It also helps that the art’s so beautiful and exciting, it makes me cry.

Tim O’Shea

Gladstone’s School for World Conquerors #6: Writer Mark Andrew Smith completely surprises me with the conclusion to the first arc. Instead of being the reveal I thought it would be, he instead gives us a plot moment that will serve as a catalyst for even bigger things in the series. The battle scenes that dominate the issue are some of artist Armand Villavert’s strongest pages of the series. If I have not convinced you to buy the series before now, you may be interested to know that Image will soon be releasing a trade paperback of these first six issues.

Secret Avengers #18: This issue in particular reminded me of writer Warren Ellis’ early 2000s Global Frequency series. As much as I appreciate the writer’s approach to Shang-Chi with this issue, what really shines (and makes the issue a must read) is David Aja’s Escher-like layouts on a particular series of fight scenes.

Avengers Academy

Avengers Academy #20: Writer Christos Gage’s ability to write an ensemble cast never ceases to amaze me. This issue serves as a major transition point in the series, allowing readers and characters to look in the rear view mirror and see where the story has gone and the potentials of where it might travel. When I started reading this series, I never fathomed that Veil would be so central to the book’s appeal and theme. Not to be a stuck record, but if you are one of those readers who have been left cold by most Avengers writing for the past several years, this is the book for you.

Avengers Solo #1: Jen Van Meter’s script (Hawkeye as detective is the core premise) works for me, but is severely hindered by the art. I normally like Roger Robinson’s art, but for whatever reason in this particular assignment he is inked and colored in a vibrant noir style that comes across as a poor imitation of Howard Chaykin. Two characters in the book have a costume so similar in design; I could not tell who was who. I so wanted to praise this story from the rooftops, as I am a huge Van Meter fan. The back-up Avengers Academy tale is a solid follow-on to this week’s issue, written by Jim McCann and with art by Clayton Henry.

All-Star Western #2: This is one of the new DC universe books that are not hindered by starting from scratch. Jonah Hex is Jonah Hex and Moritat on art is just some of the most exquisite Hex/horror/Western art you can buy for—oh crap I just realized I paid $3.99 for it. Memo to DC, you are really annoying me with making me pay an extra buck for a preview of a crappy-looking Lee Bermejo story that I will never buy.

Daredevil

Daredevil #5: I have run out of words to praise Mark Waid’s Daredevil. Just go get it. This may be the first current mainstream Marvel book I will let my 12-year-old son read (he normally reads the all-ages titles), That’s how much I enjoy the series.

Spaceman #1: Not really sure what story Brian Azzarello and Eduardo Risso is trying to tell with this nine-issue mature reader miniseries. But offering the first issue for a buck made me buy it. The art is, as always with Risso, strong as hell. But the dialogue that Azzarello saddles some of the characters with is quite annoying. I will leaf through the next issue, but I am unsure if I will actually buy it.

Spider-Man Marvel Adventures #19: Sean T. Collins writes a really great battle story between Kraven and Spidey in an office building. That’s a
sentence I never fathomed writing. Seriously, artist Pere Perez has a stairwell layout that was a sheer delight to view, would love to know if that was Collins’ idea or totally from the mind of Perez. And that was after getting to enjoy the first half of the comic, which has J.M. DeMatteis and Clayton Henry doing a Freaky Friday-type tale with Spidey and Silver Surfer.

Nate Powell

Master Of Reality by John Darnielle (33 1/3 series, Continuum Books, 2008)

Master of Reality

“I opened up my eyes, and I wondered whether my younger self was actually somebody who’s still inside me at all… I’m 26, but I’m not ready for my 16-year-old self to be dead. So I bring his ghost to work with me and hold séances behind a locked office door and when I come out of it there’s this gigantic salad in front of me and I want to start eating it with my bare hands, reciting these childish lyrics out loud, spitting sunflower seeds and bacon bits in big chunks at the wall.”

I can’t believe it took me this long to get around to reading this book. I’d eagerly awaited its release from the moment I heard news of its existence, but it finally arrived in my mailbox as a considerate gift from Leigh Walton with the attached note, “See if it isn’t the most Nate Powelly book ever written.”

Almost immediately, this novel just felt right. Darnielle’s music has proved crushing and illuminating, particularly the 1997 Mountain Goats album Full Force Galesburg, having both encompassed the shittiest period of my life and having held some responsibility for pulling me out of that self-erasing era. Master Of Reality (using Black Sabbath’s 1971 masterpiece as its core) challenges itself to represent certain sentiments we’d only admit we truly take or took seriously in trusted company—that music can truly be salvation, that our surroundings are truly ugly and lame, that the people we think we know truly don’t understand. What makes this kind of exploration bold is the potential for embarrassment, as creators and as readers. Darnielle’s protagonist and narrator is a smart, sensitive, troubled teenager in the mid-1980’s—but importantly, not too smart, and troubled because he’s simply too sensitive for the strip-mall blight around him. I accept this contract with the author, and I believe in the gravity of his character’s assessment of the world, of clichés laid out with an intimate enough lens, close enough to the embarrassment itself, that such statements immediately cease to be clichés.

Darnielle’s protagonist ruminates on Sabbath as a teenager and again later as an adult having unearthed his old psychiatric center-mandated journals, hammering in the fundamental, primal function of headbanging, assumptions on the fathers of metal’s decision-making processes through the limited perspective of an American teenager, and for any true lover of Black Sabbath, an utterly convincing blueprint of their two-dimensional.

“Normally even the hard music is supposed to sort of take you higher but when I borrowed this album from Mike I knew it wasn’t just the pot, it was like the whole point was ‘everything is a bummer, even your fantasies are a bummer.’”

Downtune those guitars, children.

From The Graveyard Of The Arousal Industry by Justin Pearson (Soft Skull Press, 2010)

From The Graveyard Of The Arousal Industry

As abrasive and impenetrable as his musical endeavors can be, Justin Pearson’s memoir is laid out the only way I could imagine it, as the music’s blunt, brash foil. Pearson’s account is incredibly intimate without even a trace of sentimentality, and this is important to accept early in the reading process. He makes no qualms about the emotional and physical barriers he’d learned to establish for the sake of survival in a fucked-up childhood and adolescence, and the necessity of building something real under his own power, and through whatever means were available at the time.

Struggle, Pearson’s first band, was one of the earliest hardcore punk bands I was exposed to as an eighth-grader. Our bands floated and toured around in the same circles for years, but only played together a few times. His most widely-known band, The Locust, drew as much ire and hatred as it did excitement and anticipation. As a 22-year-old stuck in the trap of needing to be painfully earnest about every goddamn thing that came out of my mouth, I found myself as frustrated as I was stimulated at Locust shows, which inevitably spawned 3-hour debates about the band later that night at the diner. When Soophie Nun Squad and The Locust occasionally shared the stage, we were (cosmetically) polar opposites trying to communicate similar things with our music, and this healthy-but-dissonant relationship was hard to reconcile in a well-meaning but deeply flawed late-90’s punk climate—a climate stating that we should make waves against the shores of the outer world, but should generally avoid challenges to our collective concept of why we think we’re not a part of the world we hate, why we think we’ve got so much in common anyway, and who we alienate.

Pearson’s music has always been a part of this essential push-pull relationship, and I’ve grown to increasingly love and respect his bands’ dedication to the truly annoying, the truly questioning, the truly interesting. Decade-old memories of naked young men wearing only gas masks shitting on a Michigan venue floor while uprooted shrubbery is thrown amidst makeshift fires and flying bodily fluids finally get the answers they’ve been longing for. His narrative is honest and unabashed enough to raise the question within me, “why didn’t I just ask him all these questions when I was twenty? Just how many assumptions did I make about people around us? What the hell was wrong with me?”

Big Questions by Anders Nilsen (Drawn & Quarterly, 2011)

I started reading Nilsen’s individual issues starting with #3, and had been waiting for this collected volume for ten years. I won’t hesitate to say that Big Questions is probably my favorite comic of the last decade, and that it approaches uncertainly, darkness, hope, cruelty, dedication, and selfishness in a way that makes most other efforts seem like a waste of paper.

Nilsen gets away with a task of this size by simply following the (mostly animal) characters’ actions without an obvious directorial perspective—the reader never feels that they’re being intentionally moved in a particular direction or towards a certain topic by the creator. This might be because the narrative took nearly 15 years (in as many installments) to unfold, and a lot changes in a creator’s priorities in that time. Major events in the storyline come as genuine surprises, and my emotional response to the losses of certain characters was much heavier than I expected.

The world depicted in Big Questions is certainly aware of ours, and of its political and social realities, but only one ambassador from “our world” makes his way through the book, slowly and begrudgingly adapting his method of interacting with others, relearning what it means to survive. Most of the internal social structure is found within a group of birds who are drawn so similarly that it came as a shock and a true joy to discover that I’d grown to care about each bird and their individual struggles so deeply. A kind of magic was at work; the birds’ once-uniform depictions retroactively became nuanced, attentive, undeniably unique.

Big Questions, like McCarthy’s The Road, is not in any way a pick-me-up, but its flashes of lightness in an impenetrably grave situation provide measured glimpses into the other side of a world just behind it, or just before it. This collection is a necessary exploration of an endlessly murky and uncertain existence.

Americus by MK Reed and Jonathan Hill (First Second, 2011)

Americus

Reed and Hill are successfully making a case against people losing their goddamn minds these days. Americus is a focused, efficient narrative tackling the poisonous, anti-intellectual, privileged forces of the authoritarian evangelical Neanderthals we know so well against, well, a world they think is theirs.

I grew up in the suburbs of Arkansas, just down the road from Americus’ fictional Oklahoma town. The setting could have truly been anywhere in the country, but at no point came off as a generic depiction of suburbia. No, this was the world in which many of us came of age. Cultural threats and scapegoats shifted every few years—the Satanic Ritual Abuse craze of 1985 begat the Judas Priest suicide trial-farce that fueled the proper Satanic Panic in which I devoted myself to heavy metal, the occult, and fantasy storytelling. This era was essentially put to rest with the West Memphis Three witchhunt of 1993, to be quickly replaced by a deep suburban terror of Dr. Dre’s The Chronic, only to be dethroned in time by Marilyn Manson. What made the perceived threats so bizarre was the evangelical Neanderthals’ insistence that depictions of reality and fantasy were interchangeably dangerous.

Americus centers around a popular all-ages fantasy epic patterned after the success of Harry Potter and its predecessors. We get glimpses into the literary adventures cherished by so many folks in the book, but don’t get too much, and this is important, as the town’s (and my town’s, and yours’) authoritarian evangelicals have never really been concerned with what’s actually in the offending articles. In fact, the whole crux of the book and its frustrating reality is that such vocal opposition is focused on what the books represent, which is a world that has room for more than just one perspective or value system. Possibility really is frightening.

MK Reed’s dialogue is quite natural and believable, and Jonathan Hill’s brushstroke is clear, competent, and descriptive. Americus, as a graphic novel readable by anyone age 12 and up, is an welcome addition to the much-needed broader discussion about the role of the Arts in our society, the powers and motivations at play in the effort to crush a more truly representative world, and the terrifying rise of these proto-fascists we know so well, not just at the local level, but when the battlefield is what we read, listen to, and how we think.

Check out Diamond’s release list or ComicList, and tell us what you’re getting in our comments field.

Brilliant

Graeme McMillan

It is, thankfully, the last week of September which means that, if I had $15, I only have one more week of new launches from DC to pick out potential favorites, Sophie’s Choice-style. This week: Aquaman #1, Flash #1, Fury of Firestorm, The Nuclear Men #1, Justice League Dark #1 and Superman #1 make the cut (All DC, all $2.99 each).

If I had the chance to add some more money to take that total to $30, I’d go for some Marvel books: Brian Michael Bendis gets well-represented with Ultimate Comics Spider-Man #2 ($3.99); New Avengers #16.1 ($2.99), his “new readers jump on” issue with art by Neal Adams; and Brilliant #1 ($3.99), his new creator-owned book with Mark Bagley. Here’s hoping I’m in a suitably Bendis-y mood when I read all of these ones.

Splurgewise, it has to be Habibi (Pantheon, $35), Craig Thompson’s new graphic novel. I know a few people who’ve had a chance to read it already, and everyone has made it sound like a large leap ahead from Blankets, and something almost worth the many-year wait it’s been since his breakthrough last book. I’m really looking forward to this one.

Habibi

Chris Mautner

If I had $15:

There’s a lot of good, big-name books out this week, starting with the fourth volume of Love and Rockets ($14.99). Rumor has it that Xaime Hernandez’s contributions to this issue are even more exemplary and emotionally devastating than in Vol. 3, which seems almost impossible, but I’m eager to find out either way.

If I had $30:

I’d at least take a look at Kinky and Cosey, a South Park-esque gag strip from NBM, authored by one Nix, about whom I know nothing, but the online samples intrigue me.

Splurge:

Graeme already mentioned Habibi – I’m only a third of the way through it now, so I can’t really comment on the book yet. Frank Miller’s Holy Terror is also out this week ($29.99), but David Brothers’ review has put me off on purchasing the book, at least for now. That leaves either Matthew Thurber’s delightfully surreal saga 1-800-MICE ($22.95), Marc Bell’s equally strange and charming Pure Pajamas (an odds and sods collection of various comic work) ($22.95) or Brian Ralph’s first-person zombie apocalypse tale, Daybreak ($24.95). All are really worth getting, it’s just a question of which to buy first.

Holy Terror

Chris Arrant

Fifteen dollars in my pocket, and I’d still only have room for one of this week’s New 52 from DC: Flash #1 (DC, $2.99). Francis Manapul is a big-time artist, and seeing DC giving him the reins as writer-and-artist is an interesting play that I want to see work. Next up would be another #1, but not from DC: Brilliant #1 (Marvel/Icon, $3.95). It’s good to see Bendis doing more creator-owned work, and bringing in Mark Bagley is a novel idea, especially considering Bagley’s style is synonymous with super-heroes; I think the only non-super-hero book he did was The Pulse back in the day. Next up would be two installments of ongoing Marvel epics: Wolverine #16 (Marvel, $3.99) and FF #9 (Marvel, $2.99). Aaron threw me for a loop revealing a new brood of kids for Logan, and meanwhile FF is turning into the book I’ve always wanted for Marvel: smart-ass kids in over their head. Somehow, I think Kirby would get a kick out of this, too.

If I had $30, I’d double back and bet it all on DC with five #1s: Superman #1 (DC, $2.99) for George Perez; Voodoo #1 (DC, $2.99) for Sam Basri’s art (despite Voodoo being my least favorite Wildcat); All-Star Western #1 (DC, $3.99) for, well, everything and everyone involved; Aquaman #1 (DC, $2.99) to see this Hail Mary pass of revitalizing this guy; and then Blackhawks #1 (DC, $2.99) because I’ve been pining for years they bring this team back in a meaningful way.

If I could splurge, I’d still be in a jam, as there’s two big graphic novels I want to get this week. I’d have to choose Frank Miller’s Holy Terror (Legendary, $29.99) over Habibi just because of how curious I am to see what Miller is doing here. For Habibi, I’d put it on my pull list and swing back next week.

Superman

Michael May

If I had $15, I’d split it between DC, Marvel and a smaller publisher. From DC I’m extremely curious about Superman #1 ($2.99) to see how Lois Lane is handled beyond the couple of pages we’ve already seen. I love the idea of team of magicians using the Justice League name, especially one where Zatanna and John Constantine get to interact on a regular basis, so I’m all in for Justice League Dark #1 ($2.99).  From Marvel, I’d grab Spider-Island: Deadly Hands of Kung Fu #2 ($2.99) because Shang Chi, and X-Men Legacy #256 ($2.99), because I’m enjoying being reminded how good Mike Carey is for that book. Finally, I’d grab Moonstone’s That Man Flint #0 ($1.99) for some groovy super-spy action. Casanova‘s already scratching that itch too, but I’ve got room for more.

If I had $30, I’d quickly add the more expensive All-Star Western #1 ($3.99), which only got left off my $15 list because I couldn’t afford it. I’ve been wanting to jump on to Gray and Palmiotti’s Jonah Hex for a long time and that Moritat art looks very cool. Then I’d also get I, Vampire #1 ($2.99) because I like Josh Fialkov’s stuff. I wasn’t thrilled with Warren Ellis’ first issue on Secret Avengers, but I’m willing to give it another shot, so I’d also grab #17 ($3.99). I’d top off the pile with Abe Sapien: The Devil Does Not Jest #1 ($3.50) because Abe’s awesome.

There’s way too much to splurge on this week. I can’t not mention Habibi, but there’s also a new collection of All-New Batman: The Brave and the Bold ($12.99), Archaia’s Weird Western The Grave Doug Freshley ($19.95), and that Kamandi Omnibus ($49.99). If I had to pick one thing though, I’d support Marvel’s reprinting John Byrne’s Alpha Flight by buying Alpha Flight Classic, Volume 2 ($29.99). Any effort to get those stories out of my closet and onto my bookshelf is extremely welcome.

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

Time again for our monthly trip through Previews looking for interesting new adventure comics.

Antarctic

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: There are some stories that I’m just going to have to check out every time they’re adapted. Ichabod and the Headless Horseman is one of them. I can’t get enough of that galloping, Colonial-era, pumpkin-headed noggin-chopper.

Archaia

The Grave Doug Freshley: I swear I didn’t notice the pun when I went through the catalog the first time. I’m observant that way. Honestly, that cools my interest a little. Even though the solicitation compares the book to Sergio Aragones and Looney Tunes, I’m hoping that there’s as much soul as schtick to this story about a gunfighter who comes back from the dead to protect a boy in order to fulfill a promise. I tend to trust Archaia’s taste though, so it’s hope with a foundation. That title though…

Okko: The Cycle of Earth: Now this I have no reservations about. I read the first volume as single issues and decided that I needed the rest on my bookshelf instead of my comic boxes. Absolutely gorgeous and mysterious Japanese-inspired fantasy.

Beasts of Burden

Dark Horse

Beasts of Burden #1: If you’ve read about Evan Dorkin and Jill Thompson’s adventurous pet investigators of the supernatural in Dark Horse’s Books of Horror anthologies, you know how funny and charming this is going to be.

Usagi Yojimbo: Yokai: I’ve only recently begun indulging my Usagi Yojimbo curiosity by reading his early adventures, but it’s only proven what I suspected would be true. I love that noble, little rabbit and his diverse cast of friends and enemies. Looking forward to this full color graphic novel.

Amazon: I’m not a huge fan of the Heart of Darkness plot in general, but I absolutely trust Steven Seagle and I like Tim Sale’s covers for this. If the the interior art is at all similar, I expect that I’ll enjoy this jungle story even if no one wrestles a rhinoceros in it.

DC

The Web #1: I don’t know much about the Red Circle characters and I honestly don’t care at all about the Web. What I do care about is that John Rozum’s writing supernatural comics again in this issue with the Hood co-feature (with Bill Sienkiewicz helping on art, no less). I’m not expecting Xombi or even Midnight, Mass, but it’s Rozum so I know it’ll be excellent.

High Moon: I haven’t read the online version of this Zuda comic, but werewolves and Westerns go together like chocolate and peanut butter. If this is anywhere as good as Strangeways, I’ll be a satisfied reader.

Trick 'r Treat

Trick ‘r Treat: Throw a scarecrow in your horror story and you’ve immediately got an audience of at least me. Make it a creepy little kid and I’m wiggling in my seat anticipating the chills. I’ve wanted to see the movie version of this ever since the poster came out. And since they’ve made the cover of the comic from the same image, it has the same effect. And the comic could have much worse people involved in it than Marc Andreyko, Mike Huddleston, and Breehn Burns.

Dynamite

The Lone Ranger Comic Strips Collection: It’s the Lone Ranger and it’s Russ Heath. That’s all I need to know.

Hermes

The Phantom: The Complete Dailies, Volume 1 (1936-1938): Because I’ve enjoyed the Billy Zane movie and a lot of Moonstone’s comics so much, I’ve always been curious to see more of the Phantom in his original environment. Even though this has the most boring cover I’ve ever seen (the Phantom punching nothing? Really?), I really want to spend some time with the insides.

Shang-Chi: Master of Kung Fu

Marvel

Shang-Chi: Master of Kung Fu: A very large part of me is bristling at the thought of paying $4 for 48 black-and-white pages, but it’s Shang-Chi and it’s a one-shot, so they’ve got me. Plus Jonathan Hickman and Kody Chamberlain are involved. And did they say, “Kung Fu Motorcycle Race?” Why yes, they did.

SLG

Pinocchio: Vampire Slayer: I don’t need anything other than the title and the visual it conjures to know that I’m going to want this book. It’s so high concept that if it was published by someone else I might be worried about the quality of the story, but SLG’s never released anything without a heart in it and I don’t expect they’re starting now.

And that’s it for me. What are you looking forward to?