Best Comics of 2013, No. 6: The Lost Boy

These entries have dragged out a bit, but I am completing the list today and tomorrow.
A bit of backstory on today's entry.
Last time I attended San Diego Comicon, I picked up a small volume that I chose for reading on the plane ride home: Greg Ruth's Sudden Gravity: A Tale of the Panopticon.
I was so blown away by it, I was sure my reaction would send the plane off course. Ruth's surreal yet oddly comforting nightmare of intentionally distorted reality has a devastating effect on the unsuspecting reader. I elected to use it as a text in my next Graphic Novel course, and Greg was kind enough to join the course for a week of online discussion- very informative, educational and fun, and more to the point, inspiring to comic art students. Many chose it as their favorite book of the semester.
Since then, I've followed his career with great interest. He has illustrated a number of children's books, including the fun Pirate Guide to... series and one based on President Obama's first inaugural address. He's done more comic work, including some Conan illustration and 2012's City of Orphans (still on my reading list). When I saw his new solo book The Lost Boy this year, I jumped at it. As its presence here indicates, I was not disappointed.

Example of Ruth's exquisite control and line work

(note: all illustrations for this entry are courtesy of Greg Ruth)
Themes that appear to be central to Ruth's solo work surface here: childhood isolation and vulnerability, surrealism and magical realism in daily life, and a burning desire to triumph over melancholy.
While Ruth hardly has a monopoly on these themes, he executes them adroitly.
This is the story of Nate, a boy stranded in a particularly unwelcoming country house (which at times felt like suburbia) by the career caprices of his parents. Two things happen in short order. He is befriended by a neighbor of like age and temperament, Tabitha. Together, they explore the mysteries of a tape recorder Nate discovers in his attic. The tapes are a record of the mysteriously lost Walt, who years earlier went in search of missing pets only to find...
But that would be telling. Aided and hampered in their search by talking animals, insects and abandoned toys (many of which have eloquent personalities), the pair set out on their quest for Walt.
Ruth manages to pull the reader into implausible situations with great ease. We all feel our lives to be impossible at times, and Ruth taps directly into that. There's an empathy, coupled with a wry wit, to his writing.The latter is especially apparent in Tabitha's dialogue here, and is sorely missed when he capably illustrates the writing of others.
The child's journey into the world of the lost is a classic theme, the basis for works as far-ranging as Peter Pan and Neil Gaiman's Mirrormask (the fractured world into which the child is propelled, also present here, is another recurring Gaiman theme). Despite these commonalities, Ruth offers a singular voice.

There's another great delight here for me. The presence of talking critters and armies of insects and frogs invokes the heyday of vintage cartoons, a lifelong passion. As I read The Lost Boy, part of me saw it as a really elaborate storyboard for an incomplete Fleischer feature film, a nightmare sequel to Mr. Bug Goes to Town!

Establishing shot two-page spread or animation background?
You be the judge!

It takes great talent and restraint to bring out the magical and the nightmare in the mundanity of the everyday. Ruth uses some subtle visual devices as storytelling aids. The sequences in the present are bordered in black, if they have borders, while those set in Walt's past are bordered in white.

A few critics (mostly Amazon reviewers) found fault with the level of explanation of some plot points- "this or that was not clear enough." I didn't have that trouble. I see nothing wrong with having the reader involved in deciphering the narrative, especially when there's an element of mystery, as there is here. A good reader doesn't need to be spoon fed the story, and a good writer knows that. I have no more respect for lazy readers than I do for sloppy writers. I also respect the fact that the story is not dumbed down for young readers. Kids are a lot smarter than some writers, and many publishers, believe them to be.
As cerebral as this story is, it's action heavy. There's a war on (possibly more than one), with very high stakes.

Ruth often uses simple tools to create his eloquent art (Sudden Gravity was drawn entirely in ballpoint pen!). As discussed when looking at Colleen Doran's A Distant Soil, it's always a delight to read the work of a skilled artist who also really knows how to write.
A member of the Out of Step Arts Collective, Ruth works on new projects at a pace to rival that of David Mack or Matt Wagner- consistent, sometimes frenetic, but never a sacrifice of quality to time. The quality and individualism in Ruth's work clearly rivals those creators. I suspect the primary reason his name is less of a household word in comic circles is that he's done less mainstream work than they have. Like them, he's on my list of creators whose work will always get an eager look from me.
I imagine that writing such emotionally intense work with veracity takes its toll on Ruth, which would explain why he's done relatively few solo books in the two decades he's been a comics and illustration professional. That's certainly understandable, but as satisfying as The Lost Boy is, I'm hungry for more.

Next: Best Comics of 2013, No. 5, also not for the simple minded.








What the heck, here's one more great Lost Boy page on which to fly away!

Best Comics of 2013, No. 12: A Distant Soil

Still trying to catch up from a couple days' illness. Only two behind, so three tomorrow would do it if I can manage it.
My lists tend to be dominated by older works and revivals. This is not to slight new work. I'll add any work that I think makes the cut, regardless of age. But there are so many great newer works by established creators, it would be wrong to neglect them. I've toyed with the idea of doing a separate list of older and newer creators, but drawing the line becomes arbitrary.
Today's offering is a delight.
I've written in the past of my admiration for the art, writing and professionalism of Colleen Doran. Like many, I was first exposed to her work on A Distant Soil as a backup feature in Elfquest, before the Pinis gave the story its own title. I thought it quite good even then, though those issues hardly stand up to the standard she's since set.
As a case in point, this is from the first issue of the current run.

After seeing a self-published run from Aria Press, followed by a run at Image Comics, the title went on hiatus for some years, mostly due to Doran's other commitments. This year, it resurfaced, promising to complete its SF/fantasy storyline at long last.

Cover of the digital edition of No. 42

The book retains its strongest elements: tight if often labyrinthine plotting (that's good, in case you're unsure), consistently strong and empathetic characters (even the villains, of which there are plenty), precise and ornate drawing, and tons of action.

All appears lost for our heroes and the rebel forces they lead. But all is never as it seems. My favorite character, Dmer, has proven to be much more complex than I had originally seen.
I'm deliberately talking in generalities to avoid spoilers. This is one story you really must fully appreciate on your own.
And luckily, you can. Doran has undertaken the dual projects of completing the story and creating a series of remastered collections of the work. As her blog is linked here, it's easy enough to keep up with her progress by the old click of a button.
And it's worthwhile to do so. Doran's insights on the process and the business of comics are a master class in themselves. She spends at least as much effort on marketing as she does on the work, or so it seems from the outside. I've purchased art from her in the past, and circumstances permitting, will again.
And she does both admirably, thank you very much. With canny success, she's cross-marketed to the digital market, and used original art sales and auctions quite successfully to continue promotion of her work. I can well imagine her last words being the same as those of Tezuka: "for the love of God, let me keep working!"
While I'm a couple issues behind on this as well (again, pesky finances), I have noted that the plot has reached the point at which all hell breaks loose. Lots of action with dire consequences for all concerned. Doran's characterization is a perfect embodiment of Robert McKee's three levels of conflict: inner, personal (based in relationships) and social (the character's conflicts with society as a whole, including the larger implications of the character's actions). Every move made by every character incorporates all three of these levels. I don't think this is a deliberate construction on Doran's part, so much as it is a reflection of her understanding of the things that make people tick.

All that aside, this meets my primary criteria for a great comic. It's a very engaging read. There's a genuine excitement to opening every issue!
A Distant Soil always has been and it's only improved through the years. Now, as it winds towards its denouement, Doran is at the top of her craft.
Next: Best Comics No. 11, offering more space adventures, but with sea hags.

Best Comics of 2012: No. 1

Time to announce the Best Comic of 2012.

This has it all. Spellbinding beautiful art, three compelling stories woven into one, serious subjects including immigration and gay issues, and spirit. So much spirit.

I haven't read the author's book PUG yet, but I used Derek McCullough's Stagger Lee as a textbook in my recently ended Graphic Novel class (the students loved it), so I'm familiar with his deft handling of music as a narrative vehicle.
In Gone to Amerikay he ties together the stories of two Irish immigrants separated by ninety years with the tale of the wealthy descendant of one who's searching for his musical heritage, forty years after the fact.
In many ways it's a classic Irish tale, full of ghosts, ballads, drinking, joy, sex and life, set against the backdrop of New York. The dialects are spot on without being demeaning. The stories flow well and intertwine cleanly, though there are a couple points where less than astute readers will have to double back and check on something.
On matters Irish: the art is by Colleen Doran, who shares my love for the band Horslips, and who keeps up a "No Irish Need Apply" sign in her studio, as a reminder of hard times and harder people past.
I've been following Colleen's work since A Distant Soil debuted as a preview in the Pini's Elfquest. I've enjoyed her work on J. Michael Straczynski Book of Lost Souls, some key issues of Sandman, Wonder Woman, Legion of Super-Heroes, one of my favorite graphic novels, Warren Ellis' Orbiter (I happened on a signed and sketched copy in a used store, more fool the anonymous "Curt" who got rid of it) and of course, A Distant Soil, which she is closing in on finishing. She's a canny businesswoman, informed and strengthened by the hard knocks life has given her (mostly in the form of creeps trying to take advantage of her in some way).
Sidebar: I purchased a Book of Lost Souls page from Colleen last year, but neglected to ask for one featuring that wonderful cat, so I guess I'm as much a fool as that "Curt"was.
Back to Colleen:
She's produced a formidable body of work over the decades (has it really been that long?), and though she chooses her material carefully to balance time, deadlines and the likelihood of the person or organization promising her payment honoring that commitment, she does continue to create, and just gets better.
Ahem. Case in point.

Can Colleen draw beautiful men or what?
Also, the precise illustrations of mundane daily activities, like shaving, enhance visual storytelling no end.
Here's a page from the sequence set back in time. Remember, while each story is told chronologically, they are intertwined in the book.

Lewis Healy, the magnate
whose search connects the stories

Sometimes I read things with too critical an eye, noticing structure, editing, artistic flourishes and so on. while this has its uses, it can be demoralizing, like that moment after you realize that cartoons are thousands of drawings, and the time afterwards where all you can see is the individual drawings, before cartoons get their magic back. The best stories are the ones in which I forget to critically dissect the content and get sucked into the story's world. Gone to Amerikay is one of those stories.

So we have the tale of Clare O'Dwyer, 1870;
Folk singer Johnny McCormack, 1960;
and Irish billionaire Lewis Haely, 2010. It's his search for the music he loves that ties them together.
But there's also a tie between Clare and Johnny.
Through a meeting with the ghost of her lover, Johnny learns the song he wrote for Clare, and finding her granddaughter quite by accident, learns that Clare's daughter is still alive. He meets her and is able to return the song to its family.
Having just watched What Lies Beneath on TCM tonight, it's nice to see a ghost story with a happy ending.
Being who I am, I have to mention the book itself- a slim but handsome hardcover, apparently PVC bound with black head and tail bands. And the cover of the book beneath the dust jacket holds a lovely blind stamp.

The coloring, by Jose Villarubia, whose work I've loved on Promethea and the bound edition of Alan Moore's The Mirror of Love, is subtle and suits the art perfectly.

So congratulations to the Gone to Amerikay team.
You made my year.
I'm taking a couple days off posting to deal with work matters, but will return by week's end with some thoughts on Basil Wolverton.