April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers

Books

Non-fiction:

Brunvand, Jan Harold: The Baby Train and Other Lusty Urban Legends
(since it's just a reproduction of Brunvand's columns from the 1990s, it's not as interesting as his other books, which are more in-depth explorations of the history of legends cited; nevertheless, this was a good read).

Mystery:

Stout, Rex: Not Quite Dead Enough, and Over My Dead Body
(I think the biggest appeal of these, aside from the fact that they date from, and depict the fascinating world of mid-century New York City, is the extremely witty prose. Archie Goodwin is as funny as he thinks he is, and it's really fun to read).



Graphic novels:

Blanchet, Pascal: Baloney: A Tale in 3 Symphonic Acts
(Drawn and Quarterly. As gorgeous as the last Blanchet I read).

Campbell, Eddie: The Amazing Remarkable Monsieur Leotard
(First Second. He was indeed amazing and remarkable).

Kuper, Peter: Mind's Eye: An Eye of the Beholder Collection
(NMB ComicsLit. I wouldn't really call these visual puns, as Kuper does--Furuya's Short Cuts were visual puns; these are more like Jeffery Archer stories with a twist ending, only the twist is often not much of a twist).

Kuper, Peter: Upton Sinclair: The Jungle
(NBM ComicsLit. A more perfect marriage of original work and adapter I cannot imagine. This is so totally up Kuper's alley).

Larcenet, Manu: Ordinary Victories
(NBM ComicsLit. I've identified one of the many draws for me in reading non-US comics is the possibility of seeing a lovely, unfamiliar landscape through the eyes of someone who knows it well, which does happen here).

Maxx: Bardin the Supperrealist
(Fantagraphics. And superreal--and surreal--it is!).

Morse, Scott: Tiger! Tiger! Tiger! vol. 1
(nice use of a metaphor. I remember being put off by something in the book when I read it--I don't know what now, though. Art's fabulous; Morse is extremely talented and knows his way around a comics page).

Stavans, Ilan, writer, and Roberto Weil, artist: Mr. Spic Goes to Washington
(I'm always trying to improve my comprehension of written Spanish, so I had a Spanish/English dictionary while I was reading this. Alas, there were words my dictionary didn't know--like "vato," which I assume is a noun--they're presumably either slang or just not common enough to make it into my little paperback dictionary. Oh well).


Manga/Manwha:

Akino Matsuri: Petshop of Horrors: Tokyo vol 4
(hark! Do I espy arc plot? I hope so! But even if I don't, I don't care. I love all facets of PSOH).


Byung-Jun Byun: Run, Bong-Gu, Run!
(NBM ComicsLit. This is really all about the city landscape, and the harshness of city life, etc, which was perfectly evident to me as I read the book, and was borne out by the afterword. Still, I found the artist's vision of the urban landscape to be lovely, and not frightening or lonely or alienating at all. I don't know whether that's a failure on the part of the artist, to properly convey the perceived evils of the city, or a failure in me to overcome my love of the city and be horrified by a way of life that to me is both acceptable and even desirable, or if it's just genuinely more ambiguous than the person who wrote the afterword realized...

I do see the seeds of alienation, the unnaturalness, the coldness, the artificiality here, and the rare images of the countryside are so much softer and warmer--but some of those lushly detailed splash pages, the delicately colored renderings of the city streets--I can't help but see them as beautiful, and as legitimate sites for human happiness. Sinclair's The Jungle this is not.

By the way, I really loved this book, especially the art. And the aforementioned vision of the city that maybe I'm not supposed to like, but I do. I enjoyed all of the books in this post, but this was my favorite by a mile).

Graphic novels:

Campbell, Eddie: The Black Diamond Detective Agency
(I found it a tad confusing, I think more from my having read it in three parts and forgetting people's names than from any flaw in the writing. Well-illustrated; the first few pages in particular are beautifully paced; if you read it, you'll see what I mean. First Second).

Kochalka, James: Quit Your Job
(wow, but I liked that more than I thought I would. It's the cat calling the guy, "Daddy," I think, very sweet and a little affecting. This is not one of those comics where everybody is a jerk! By the way, the cover claims there's an intro by Jeff Smith, and there isn't. There's not even anything on the copyright page to indicate that the publication was supposed to have a Smith intro. Weird).

Morse, Scott: Soulwind Book 1: The Kid From Planet Earth
(what a change from Magic Pickle! Morse demonstrates an nice range of black-and-white art styles in the different narratives, which by the way, are fairly engaging. I'd like to read more of this. Oni Press).

Doherty, Catherine: Can of Worms
(I bet thirty years ago, nobody would have been interested in publishing a B&W autobiographical graphic account of Doherty's childhood discovery that she was adopted, and subsequent search for her birth mother. I'm glad I'm alive and reading comics in a decade when this not only exists, but exists in a field full of similar things. It's just cool).

Bourne, Malcome, writer, Mike Allred, artist: Tales of Ordinary Madness.

Jason: Tell Me Something.

Jeffrey, Gary & Kate Petty, writers, Sam Hadley, illustrator: Julius Caesar: The Life of a Roman General
(I realize that this is the origin of the phrase, and yet I can never read the phrase "cross the Rubicon" without a little thrill running down my spine, because it reminds me of John Adams' line in the musical 1776: "They want me quit; they say, "John, give up the fight! / Still, to England, I say: "Good night: forever, good night!" / For I have crossed the Rubicon / Let the bridge be burned behind me / Come what may, come what may--commitment!" He's singing about the choice to continue supporting the movement for independence from England, even when it looks like the independence faction in Congress is losing, and the actual battle is going so badly that Congress will shortly be in danger from British troops.

It's a reference to Caesar's historical choice to move his army across the river Rubicon into Roman territory, which will make him a traitor to Rome, unless he can win the subsequent battle and capture the city; the line is also a reference to an imaginary conversation John had earlier with his wife Abigail (all such conversations are drawn heavily from the many amazing, beautiful, and very literate letters exchanged between the real John and Abigail during the years they spent apart from each other), in which she reminds him that he's always said that there are only two kinds of people of worth in the world--those who have commitment, and those who require the commitment of others. It's a fantastic scene, and solidified my early and enduring crush on John Adams as portrayed by William Daniels.

Anyway, this an okay history-themed non-fiction graphic novel about the life of Caesar, but the real gist of all this is that you should totally check out the movie version of the musical 1776, which is a wonderful, wonderful, fairly historically accurate account of the writing of the Declaration of Independence, in which several of the Founding Fathers sing and dance).