Review: Gone To Amerikay by Derek McCulloch, Colleen Doran, Jose Villarrubia

I would call this one a tale often told, but told entertainingly.

While Gone To Amerikay doesn't release until early April it seems appropriate to talk about an Irish tale on St. Patrick's Day. As an imprint Vertigo means brightly colored and often slick commercially appealing work to me. Gone To Amerikay fits nicely into that target. Divided into three parts it takes Irish immigrants from 1870, 1960 and an Irish billionaire from today to tell a story anyone who's ever cued up a playlist of ballads could recognize. The book is strongest in all areas when it's dealing with the 1870's story of Ciara O'Dwyer. Focusing on the Gangs of New York era Five Points, the issue of anti-Irish bias is largely avoided. I really wanted more of this section, as Ciara lands in America ahead of a husband who may or may not arrive. Working a variety of jobs to keep her young daughter fed and safe, Ciara travels through different levels of New York society.

Gone To Amerikay's tales are told in unison, with the art serving to distinguish them on the page. This aspect of the book was so well done. Even without the visual cues of clothing it smoothly transitioned between the time periods. Colleen Doran has done some lovely things with the backgrounds, making the time register naturally. (I'd consider Gone to Amerikay for some of the panels alone.) In the 1960's we meet a folk musician named Johnny McCormack. His story is not quite as engaging as Ciara's, but it's a story we don't encounter in many graphic novels. The details work, the characters (Is that a John Barrowman inspiration I see there?) ring true. If the stories of 1870 and 1960 were tied together by a different thread, I think I'd like both much better. While the twist that knots them is also in keeping with classic ballads, it feels forced. I don't want to give away the story. Having enjoyed it, I hope you would as well. The connection between Ciara and Johnny is too easy for me. Making it requires the inclusion of the third, and least successful, time period. If those pages had been dedicated to more of Ciara and Johnny I'd have preferred it.

The advance copy reports that Lewis Healy, our modern day Irishman, will have a connection between himself and them revealed. That's a bit of a stretch. Lewis is a fan of McCormack's whose wife takes him through a Who Do You Think You Are style reveal of their times and places. You know those comics they used to hand out in the 70's telling you not to light forest fires? Or maybe the ones where a superhero stumps for RIF? The time spent with Lewis feels like that. It's not bad, and as a narrative thread it ties everything together while giving the author a way to move forward. The difficulty lies in it feeling like a commercial for the joys of genealogy. Lewis isn't important to the plot except as a conveyance for the readers. He's a Harlequin Presents piece of perfection with a loving wife who uses their well funded accounts to research a pet project for him. Unlike Johnny and Ciara,  there's nothing at stake for Lewis either emotionally or physically. I think Lewis would work better with a deeper investment, allowing the reader to invest in him.

Overall, I enjoyed Gone To Amerikay. Frequently I admired it. This is the sort of graphic novel that can easily slip through the market unnoticed. Commercial work tends to cause less of a splash than something perceived as indie or edgy. While not completely successful, I'd check it out. When it's working, it's as lovely as lovely gets.

Review: Aaron & Ahmed by Jay Cantor and James Romberger

I've been on a graphic novel kick lately, and sometimes graphic novels mean having to say you're sorry.

I am very sorry I read Aaron & Ahmed. I really should have known better. The thing is, when a graphic novel promises to be a difficult read, emotional, challenging, all of that - I expect it might offer something new. A love story between two men in a time of war? A meeting of two cultures? A transcendence of humanity over inhumanity? Look, it doesn't have to all be Maus. At a certain point I'll take A Very Special Sugar & Spike.

9/11 graphic novels are all sophistic pieces of crap, and I should know that by now.

Aaron & Ahmed opens by showing how our poor schmo Aaron never really had a chance. With a Jewish name (turns out he's a nonreligious halfsie) and a dead dad, he loses his fiancee in the second plane. (Complete with real time phone call and touching the window of her plane as she goes.) Right. So now that the attempt at emotional manipulation has been made, we turn to Gitmo where a Dr. Mengele type is turning prisoners into dogs and frothing about how we are all programmable meat puppets awaiting the right coding of information to cast off our humanity. You know, the kind of shit that sounds deep when you're 11 (getting high at juvvie) or 17 (getting high at your mom's place in the Hamptons) or 43 (drunk on Tea) and male. Soon our young Aaron is feeding Ahmed (our chosen prisoner) estrogen to calm him while trying to make him fall in love via the patient / therapist relationship. Yea, I know. This book seriously wants to be deep. It thinks it has some profound insights about the nature of love and the nature of religion (hint, it hates the latter) and the ways of men who might like men when mixed with Stockholm Syndrome.

Soon Ahmed is magically transporting Aaron off to the depths of training camps in Pakistan where Aaron's first serious exposure to religion (and hard drugs) convert him into a walking time bomb of paranoid fervor. Returned to NYC, Aaron awaits his deployment while Ahmed has some bizarre change of heart. Wait, back up a second - just as emotionally manipulative as the early sequences for Aaron are the mid sequences for Ahmed. The West is bad but the East is worse and there will be war without end, praise Allah. Any complexity of the view from the other side is obscured by the need to have Aaron falling prey to the fanatical brethren. It's like a tiny bit of reason dropped into a giant shaker of bigotry and anger turned into a propaganda martini and served cold. (Insert Ron Paul joke here.)

Ok, so back in NY Aaron has God Fever and his meat puppet is out infecting other meat puppets while Ahmed is offering him romantic love and wanting to run away with him for a life of western decadence. Ahmed's change of heart is never explained. His reasons for taking Aaron to Pakistan are left in the dark, and his switch from trusted driver of OBL to homosexual craver of all things McDonald's rings untrue. Ahmed fails to evoke emotion or drive the plot in a logical manner. He stands in for Aaron to impose his own perceptions on before becoming a device to drive the plot in the circle the author wants it to go.

Religion exists to control us and is harnessed for evil by many forces. Money and power drive wars. Governments don't care about the human cost. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. There is no nuance in fervor. The masses can be manipulated. (It just goes on and on.) If you're drug free and over the age of consent do yourself a favor and give Aaron & Ahmed a pass. There may be an interesting and multifaceted look at the underlying causes of 9/11 out there but I doubt it's got an English translation. I should brush up on my German. Or maybe Swedish. Possibly Japanese. I don't know. Oh, also, gay people are noble and stuff. Love drives Ahmed to his doom!!! (Sorry, was that a spoiler?)

Review: Marzi by Marzena Sowa & Sylvain Savoia

This is one of my favorite graphic novels ever. I absolutely loved Marzi. With that said, let's get on to the complaining part of this review. I really don't understand what Vertigo is doing with this coloration. The military boots, the angry child, the bunny being ripped apart - this cover says Maus meets Poland. I expected the kid to spend time starving in a ditch, clubbed over the head by the military or something. Instead Marzi is a sunny (mostly) coming of age story filled with the tiny moments that define a child's life. I know a 7 year old that is reading it cover to cover and enjoying every second of it. Look at this alternate take. While the cover is still pretty combative, it's more inviting. This says Read Me, I Might Be Interesting. Vertigo's cover says Give To Unicef. Since Marzi never really spends any time with the military at all, I'm not sure what the point of having her surrounded by combat boots is. Yes, she grew up under communism, yes her father participated in the strikes, but this volume involves a lot of sunny days at the farm and laughs with her friends.

Savoia is a gifted graphic artist. Her ability to capture expression in spare lines is fantastic. Even in a black and white review version her art brings the story to a new level. While Sowa is telling her tale out of time (events don't happen in order) the art is consistent, allowing a reader to easily bridge the gaps. I know Marzi is going to get compared to Persepolis or Fun Home. This is lazy marketing. Marzi is closer to Yotsuba than it is to either of those works. (It's just like Fun Home, there is a lesbian involved! It's just like Persepolis, it's not in America!) Obviously, Marzi is not as lighthearted and absurdist as Yotsuba. I make the comparison to denigrate the other comparisons. It rings true. Early on there is a moment where Marzi complains of shopping for toilet paper. If you buy it, people will know you use it. People will be aware you have a toilet in your home! I know plenty of children who share this same sense of embarrassment. This is the real strength of Marzi - by taking the extraordinary events of her life (having to stand in line on toilet paper day) and mixing them into the universal experiences of many children, she makes it identifiable. This is a wonderful volume, and I hope more follow. Perhaps with happier covers.