Saga: Volume 1

by Brian K. Vaughan (story) and Fiona Staples (art), 161 pages

A generations-long war between the winged race of the planet Landfall and the horned race of the moon Wreath has spread well beyond the limits of the latter's orbit around the former.  Then one day fate brings an unruly winged soldier named Alana face-to-face with a tired horned prisoner of war named Marko on a muddy little planet called Cleave.  The two argue, bond over a trashy romance novel, come to realize they have the same view of this endless war, and run away together.  Only their respective home-worlds won't let them off so easily.  With bounty hunters and zealous soldiers perpetually on their heels, it's a wonder they have enough time to bring a daughter into the universe, but they do just that before setting off across the stars in hopes of giving her a future free of the death and destruction that is all they've ever known.

Ooh, this is quite lovely and different and unafraid to be either.  It's also violent and unsettlingly graphic, but the unpleasantness is sadly part of everyday existence for these people.  Happily, so is snark.  I love that this series isn't just about the romance or the adventure--it's about family and hard work and life and death and all those ongoing things that are the reality usually ignored by "happily ever after."  Alana and Marko's daughter, Hazel, provides intermittent commentary from some unknown point in the future as we watch her parents struggle to keep her and each other alive through labor and firefights and "haunted" forests and unexpected visits from her grandparents.  Just like in the real world, the politics are crazy (there are winged-race-aligned royals with computer monitors for heads who, like royalty anywhere, don't seem to have much control of their own lives).  And the bounty hunters and other pursuers are scary but complicated, themselves.  I've been looking forward to reading this for many months and am excitedly awaiting the next trade paper installment.

Room: A Novel

by Emma Donoghue, 321 pages

Five-year-old Jack narrates as he comes to understand the truth of the four-walled world he shares with his mother.

Despite some too-convenient elements (Jack is a precocious little boy and his mother gives him more of a leg-up than seems likely considering the environment and her limited resources), this story is involving and moving and makes the reader care about the characters.  Instead of just ending with a climactic confrontation with the perpetrator of the crime, the author examines the aftermath and long-term effects such experiences can have on the individuals involved and their loved ones, giving the book depth and substance beyond the usual and adding an element of social commentary to a story about the struggle to survive and overcome.

Gente: Volume 3

by Natsume Ono, 166 pages

Loss--be it of a loved one or love, itself--finds comfort in this final collection of vignettes about the staff and customers of the Casetta dell'Orso.

One of the things I like about Ono is that she acknowledges that relationships are complicated, that we all grow older and change and lose and gain things and people along the way.  She doesn't neatly push people together or cruelly tear them apart here; rather, she lets them be and, eventually, accept themselves and adapt and find comfort, each in his or her  own way, with the ristorante providing them a second home and an extended family.

Courtney Crumrin: Volume 1: The Night Things

by Ted Naifeh, 125 pages

Young Courtney Crumrin is none too thrilled when her parents eagerly agree to become "caretakers" of her wealthy, eccentric great (?) uncle Aloysius and move the family to his creepy old house beside some spooky woods in a class-conscious town where things go bump in the night (and not everybody comes out of the woods who goes in).

Naifeh takes the old fairy tale tack of keeping the darker bits in order not to shield children from the more unpleasant aspects of reality and, so, doesn't pretend bad things don't happen or that protagonists don't have personality flaws like everybody else.  His heroine makes as many selfish, ill-advised decisions as the rest of us, but she has the pluck to sometimes succeed in getting herself out of fixes, too.  No little angel role model, is Courtney, but she's got what it takes (including luck) to face both the school cliques and the things lurking in the shadows.  If she gets a little in over her head now and then, well, that's when kids need to rely on grown-ups, right?  Or at least on the reliable ones who understand her.

Getting Married and Other Mistakes

by Barbara Slate, 154 pages

The author recounts her capitulation to parental and cultural pressures to get married, coming to terms with her past mistakes, and learning to listen to her own internal voice.

I wish the simple, Paintbrush-like art didn't rely quite so much on recycled panels, but it still helps relate the author's positive, snarky story of self-acceptance.  Her conversations with her Barbie lamp crack me up and the idea of a "sad brides" photo exhibition sounds fascinating.  "Listen to and be yourself" is good advice for anyone.

Gente: Volume 2

by Natsume Ono, 170 pages

This time the reader sees more evidence of how the ristorante has long been a homing beacon for those who need it, both staff and customers.  A broken-hearted young American, a bitter young chef, an insecure cameriere, and others find their confidence, their footing, and their place of belonging within its walls and in the relationships they forge there.

I love Ono!

Jamilti and Other Stories

by Rutu Modan, 174 pages

This collection of short graphical stories covers such topics as serial killers, theme-hotel management, family, adolescence, plastic surgery, obsession, suicide bombers, fandom, and creative identity.

These are odd, moving, darkly funny little stories that make you go hmmm and then look for more of Modan's work.

Gente: The People of Ristorante Paradiso: Volume 1

by Natsume Ono, 172 pages

This handful of Ristorante Paradiso backstories covers the Casetta dell'Orso's opening and first year anniversary, with glimpses in between of surly widower Luciano's grandfatherhood and lady-loving Vito's retirement from the player's field as he sets his sights on "the one."

I love Ono.  Whether they're "distinguished gentleman," middle-aged ladies, or tiny tots, her characters show a mix of strength and vulnerability and are endearing individuals capable of saying volumes without uttering a word.  She makes you want to laugh with, protect, and hug everybody as the restaurant's little family changes and grows over time.

Ristorante Paradiso

by Natsume Ono, 172 pages

Young Nicoletta flies off to Rome to make something of herself and to track down and confront her mother, who left her with her grandparents years ago in order to marry a man who doesn't know Nicoletta exists.  But when she shows up at her mother and step-father's out-of-the-way restaurant, her mother begs her to keep the secret till she's ready to reveal it herself.  Nicoletta struggles to balance her urge for justice with her longing to finally have her mother in her life, and as she gets to know the colorful, friendly staff (consisting, per her mother's fetishist request, of mostly older gentlemen in glasses), her indulgent step-father, and her now older and (somewhat) wiser mother, she finds her desire to shake things up waning.

A nice slice-of-life tale, this, as Nicoletta grows a little, forgives her mother, and starts to fall for one of the staff.  We get a few little glimpses into some of the restaurant employees' home lives and histories, too, and the result is gentle, touching, and fun.  Ono has a unique, distinctive style that I fell in love with a few pages into the first book of hers I read.  I'm always up for more of her, so I look forward to starting Gente, the sequel series to this one-shot, as it delves more into the personal lives of the Casetta dell'Orso's staff.

(BTW, the anime adaptation is nice, too.)

All My Darling Daughters

by Fumi Yoshinaga, 206 pages

Headstrong Yukiko and her mother Mari have lived together ever since Yukiko's father died when she was a little girl.  Now about to turn thirty, Yukiko finds her world turned on its side when, following a serious illness, Mari suddenly informs her daughter she has remarried...to a man three years younger than her daughter.  To say that Yukiko is less than thrilled at this announcement would be something of an understatement.

Aw, the first tale in this collection of stories orbiting Yukiko and her friends and family made my eyes weepy.  The mother-daughter dynamic is subtle and funny and heartwarming, and Ken, Yukiko's new "dad," quickly earns the reader's trust along with Yukiko's as her suspicions turn to grudging acknowledgment of his good nature, good intentions, and good influence on her careworn mother.  The other sometimes funny, sometimes moving, always unpredictable stories link back to Yukiko and her mom and Ken over food as characters drop by for dinner or meet at a bar or sit together at a funeral meal and share their current worries and joys and gossip (bonding over food shows up often in Yoshinaga's work).  The art is graceful and classy and clean-lined, the characters quirky and engaging, and the stories fun, original, and thought-provoking, all of which just further justifies my Yoshinaga love and admiration and makes me want to get my hands on more of her books.

The Drops of God: Volume 2

by Tadashi Agi (story) and Shu Okimoto (art), 410 pages

Shizuku Kanzaki stumbles upon a family-run French restaurant that's in danger of closing down from loss of business following a scathing review a year earlier from none other than Shizuku's bitter rival, Issei Tomine, with whom he's supposed to compete for his inheritance.  Shizuku vows to help the owner get a glowing review when his former critic returns for a second opinion and sets out to figure out what went wrong the first time.  Meanwhile, Shizuku and his friend Miyabi Shinohara are also trying to put together a trio of inexpensive French wines to beat out his outspoken co-worker, who's a militant supporter of Italian wines (and, for some reason, a hater of all things French), in a tasting at their offices--and the future of their new wine division could depend on the results.  And then, of course, there's the race for the inheritance, which the boys have been putting off...till now.

I may not retain all the information about names and vineyards and classes of wine that these characters are trying to teach each other, but little bits (like the concepts of mariage and terroir) are starting to sink in and make me feel ever so slightly more knowledgeable than I was before.  (I wish I had a well-stocked wine cellar!)  I'm also enjoying the characters and the story that goes along with the lessons.  Funny, (melo-) dramatic, and enlightening, this series.  There's certainly a high incidence of coincidence and a definite cheeze factor, but I'm finding that's all part of the fun, too.  I'm excited now that Shizuku and Tomine have officially begun the search for the first of the Twelve Apostles.  They've got three weeks to track down a single wine from nothing but a flowery, metaphor-ridden description.  I'm sure they'll find it, but who'll get there first?  And what other life-lessons will they learn along the way?

Essex County: Volume 3: The Country Nurse

by Jeff Lemire, 125 pages

In this final volume of Lemire's Essex County trilogy, an official caretaker of the elderly (and unofficial caretaker of her small rural community's hearts) carries on in her ancestor's path as she works patiently to heal the hurts that don't get better with Band-aids.

For more information on this quietly powerful trio of graphic novels, please see my full series review on NoFlyingNoTights.com!

Essex County: Volume 2: Ghost Stories

by Jeff Lemire, 223 pages

As he's moved from his farm to a nursing home, an old man suffering from dementia looks back on his life and his relationship with his younger brother in this second volume in Jeff Lemire's moving Essex County trilogy.

Sad and yet ultimately hopeful, this.  Lemire excels at making me teary-eyed and yet not bitter about it.

Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic

by Alison Bechdel, 232 pages

This is a memoir of the author's complicated childhood with her closeted gay father who may or may not have intentionally jumped in front of a bread truck when she was nineteen.

Bechdel relates the gaps between her father's public and private lives and how his secrets affected her and her family over the years.  Despite his many affairs (some possibly with minors) and lifelong obsessions (art, architecture, gardening, literature) that seemed to take priority over emotionally connecting with his wife and children, he was still her father, and losing him shortly after coming out, herself, has left a hole in her life.

This cuttingly honest and thoughtful analysis of an imperfect life through the author's memories made me cry when I got to the last page.

The Drops of God: Volume 1

by Tadashi Agi (story) and Shu Okimoto (art), 424 pages

Ever since he was a child, Shizuku's famous wine-critic father Kanzaki drilled him in the ways of wine.  And in protest, the young man has never actually imbibed a drop of the stuff, going instead into sales (of beer, no less!).  But when Kanzaki unexpectedly dies, Shizuku finds that he's still not off the hook.  At the reading of the will, it is revealed that his father has left him with one final test.  If Shizuku wants to claim his inheritance (chiefly his father's huge, priceless wine collection), he must first find the thirteen unnamed wines described in great poetic detail in the will.  He also learns that his father formally adopted another young man shortly before his death.  A young man who happens to be a very ambitious and talented up-and-coming wine critic.  And a young man to whom Shizuku will lose everything if he doesn't beat him to the finish line.

Huh.  This is quite fun, actually.  If you like Oishinbo (a crazily-informative, long-running manga about Japanese food and beverage that also has a plot of sorts and leaves you hankering for real sushi or noodles or sake), you will enjoy this series.  It makes you want to visit the Big Brown Derby (that's the International Wine Center, for those of you with more class than I  *hee*) and stare at the pretty bottles, speculating about the romantic stories behind their tasty contents.  Shizuku's brain has been hard-wired for wine comprehension by his clever father, but he couldn't care less about the stuff (or the inheritance, though having to fight a stranger for it does hurt his pride a bit)...until he finally takes a sip of a truly good wine and learns its story.  Now he has to find them all--more for himself and his understanding of his father than for the material wealth in question.  And how will the search affect his cold-hearted competition?  I wonder if his daddy didn't do them both a favor by throwing them at each other's throats like that....  I look forward to more!  (And I wish I had an "in" with a sommelier who'd give me free samples...lucky Shizuku....  *sigh*)

The Alcoholic

by Jonathan Ames (story) and Dean Haspiel (art), 136 pages

Smart, clever, likeable Jonathan A. has his first drink in high school, and though he certainly looks back often, he can't leave the stuff alone for long.  As years pass, he survives and even succeeds despite his wide range of ill-advised habits and choices, which only makes him hate himself more.  Sex, drugs, life, death, love, loneliness, and always the booze confuse, sabotage, and buoy him and take him for physical and emotional highs and lows no rollercoaster could match, however much he tells himself he should and will get off.

You're not sure how much of Jonathan A. there is in Jonathan Ames, but you can't help but connect the two and read this as elaborated-upon reality, making the emotional turmoil and stubborn vulnerability of the protagonist believable and affecting, however ridiculous and unlikely some of the messes he gets into may be.  It feels unsparingly honest even if it's all made up.  The lack of willpower, the rationalizing, the self-awareness paired with the inability to do anything about it are all too familiar to anyone who's ever done something stupid more than once, regardless of scale.  And Haspiel's clean, simple art is as self-deprecating and relatable as the story it conveys.

Stitches: A Memoir

by David Small, 329 pages

This graphic memoir recounts the childhood and adolescence of the author as he deals with the dysfunction of his family and the loss of his voice due to thyroid cancer.

There's a lot of pent-up anger and bitterness in these pages and the reader feels both sympathy and antipathy towards just about everybody, including the narrator.  But she understands that, in the real world, bad situations do not bring out the best in everyone and she pities the struggles these people deal with, even if they don't always deal with them constructively.  She also hopes that, after all this suffering, they have the chance to do and be better in less sad and frightening futures.  The fact that this book exists at all may be evidence that, at least in some way, they have.

Friends with Boys

by Faith Erin Hicks, 219 pages

After years of homeschooling with her three older brothers, Maggie's finally starting her first day at a public high school.  She struggles to fit in, find friends, understand the cliques and pressures and personal histories, deal with teachers who aren't her mom, and do homework.  Plus, there's her mom's conspicuous absence, for which Maggie feels responsible.  To top it off, there's the ghost.

This is a sweet, funny, memoir-ish story of family bonds, awkward adolescence, and friendship that anybody can identify with, even if they weren't homeschooled or haunted.  Hicks's characters are relatable both physically and emotionally, with nobody "perfect," and her tone is a mix of melancholy, wit, and hope as her characters learn to move past their hurts and look forward to the inevitable challenges ahead with more confidence and the support of one another.

Samurai's Blood

by Owen Wiseman and Michael Benaroya (creators), Owen Wiseman (script), Nam Kim (pencils), Matt Dalton (inks), Sakti Yuwono (colors), Josh Aitken (letters), Rob Prior (logo), and Jo Chen (covers), 185 pages

When the Sanjo clan is overthrown and nearly wiped out through the greed and betrayal of two of its own retainers, it's up to those who remain to make things right.

I picked this up because of the cover art and because I do enjoy a good samurai and sword story. Although I was disappointed that the story art was not as cool, attractive, and realistic as the covers (which are by a different person, as is often the way with serial comics from the big American publishers), I still enjoyed reading it.

I have not read nearly as many American comics as I have Japanese and Korean ones, so as I try to remedy that I find myself going through an adjustment period. I have to remind myself that the traditions of each are different and I can't judge them with quite the same scale. So just keep that in mind whenever you hear / read me grumbling about overly-beefy heroes, Botox-lipped heroines, and insides that don't match their outsides.

I loved Jo Chen's covers for the originally serially-published chapters (so much so that I Googled her and bookmarked her official website). Every time I flipped the page to start a new chapter and saw one, I'd try to hold that image of the characters in my head while I read the actual story. The digitally-colored interior art is very slick. While I like the well-used color palette and detailed backgrounds, I was less fond of the figure art. The pronounced chins, cheekbones, jaws, and noses (hallmarks of traditional American superhero comics), and the fact that many characters don't look the same from panel-to-panel, distracted me. Also, I thought the plot seemed like it skimmed over a few points that would have worked better (and would have given the reader more opportunity to get emotionally invested in the characters) had they been given a little more attention. And while the narration gets a little purple at times, it fits the melodrama of the story, so I didn't mind too much. Overall, this is a decent action / revenge drama that might have benefited from an additional couple of fleshing-out chapters along the way.

Tesoro

by Natsume Ono, 248 pages

Lunches made by someone who loves you, doughnuts and coffee on a chilly fall day, and moving forward in the face of loss are just a few of the thoughts in this collection of short, early graphic works (some previously unpublished) by the creator of Ristorante Paradiso, Gente, House of Five Leaves, and not simple.

For more details, please check out my full review on NoFlyingNoTights.com!