The Story of My Tits

I have had this book on my shelf for a long time now, and I finally got to it after listening to a brief interview with its author on The Comics Alternative podcast. The Story of My Tits may have a provocative title, but it is a book full of heart, humor, and humanity. As you may guess from the title, the book is focused on particular body parts and how they inform a person's life across a lifespan. At first the narrator spends much of her childhood/adolescence pining for large breasts, as she is skinny and feels somewhat inadequate. As she gets older and in college, she finally starts developing larger ones, which changes how she is perceived by herself and others.

But this book is so much more than the story of her biological and sexual development. It is centered on her various relationships, with her parents (whose marriage is strained, although she does not notice that for a while), her siblings, and with her eventual husband and his family members. There is much to relate to in these depictions, and I loved how she does not sugar-coat the rough parts of their interactions and also how she captures funny, idiosyncratic scenes from their lives. She really captures the not-neatness of relationships as well as how they organically develop, often in surprising ways.

Things also take a few dark turns, such as when her mother develops breast cancer and has to have a mastectomy. Also, she and her husband also reel from his parents' separate bouts with cancer and other health issues. I have read a number of books about people dealing with grave illnesses, and what makes this book exceptional is how much space it spends showing the mundane, human sides of the various characters. When the main character eventually develops breast cancer and has to cope with a double mastectomy, we have had so much insight into her life and family dynamics that really pay off because so much of this book is involved with giving everything context.

 

In the end, I have to say I loved this book. It was moving, beautiful, raunchy in parts, and gorgeously expressive.

This book garnered acclaim for its creator Jennifer Hayden. It was nominated for an Eisner Award and was named on many end of year best-of lists. It was her second graphic novel, following the collection Underwire. She speaks about her work on The Story of My Tits in this interview with The Comics Alternative.

All of the reviews I have read of this book have been very positive. Rob Clough called it "a funny, bawdy and poignant memoir about body image, relationships, family and loss." In a starred review, Publishers Weekly concluded, "Hayden has created a heartfelt and often hilarious tribute to her life—and to the resilience of women everywhere." BookDragon wrote, "Hayden’s lively memoir-thus-far is such an affirmation of love and life – albeit without any rose-colored glasses, thank you very much! – that you’re going to need to set aside some solid time to just bask in her accomplishment."

The Story of My Tits was published by Top Shelf, and they have more info about it here.

This book features adult content, some nudity, and profanity, so it is suggested for readers mature enough to handle those things.

The Flintstones, Volume 1

I definitely would not expect to find much provocative social commentary or satire from a book based on licensed characters. Those types of comics are usually insipid knock-offs of more vital media versions, but this Flintstones comic is actually very insightful, fun, and way more well done than I would have expected. This volume collects the first six issues of the ongoing series, which is about to be at issue #12 at this writing. Instead of it being a watered-down version of The Honeymooners, this series casts the family in a more realistic, bittersweet light. Fred is a war veteran stuck in a low-end job, always trying to advance but always getting taken advantage of.

Wilma is a stay-at-home mom with artistic tendencies, and Pebbles is a young adolescent with a keen eye and sharp tongue. Over the course of this series, they deal with many social issues and situations that mirror and comment on our contemporary ones, turning them on their heads in humorous and satirical fashion. For instance, both the Flintstones and the Rubbles catch flack for having nontraditional marriages (they are monogamous, whereas the norm is to be polygamous). They deal with vacuous politicians who offer no solutions other than blunt, brute-force tactics to deal with enemies (i.e, anyone who seems weird or foreign to them). They go to church and find a wide array of objects and deities offered for worship. And they are invaded by alien teenagers looking for a thrill during spring break.

Perhaps the darkest and most troubling aspect of the book has to deal with capitalism and consumerism, where people are constantly being pushed to buy household products that they may not need, just to keep up appearances. Many of these items and appliances are actually living things that have personalities and can communicate, though they are ignored and treated like objects. When their people are not around they talk to each other and loosen up some, though they accept their lots in life and do not rebel.

A common theme in this book is that pretty much everyone's happiness in this book is built on somebody else's misery. And a dark edge tinges pretty much every funny thing in this book, from the origins of Bedrock itself, to the way Barney and Betty Rubble adopt their son Bamm-Bamm, to the presence of the prototypical homosexual couple Adam and Steve. The satire is more pointed than shocking, but what is actually shocking is how admirable and satisfying this series is. Many comics today take a "grim & gritty" take on previously light material in ham-handed and oblivious ways. This book has a lot of heart, depicting very human characters with a complex blend of humor and pathos. Much of what makes it work is the combination of clever plotting plus the character designs that mesh together a version of realism with cartoon elements to make for some impressive, expressive scenes. Never in a million years would I expect to be reviewing a Flintstones comic here, but this one is a surprising gem.

This series is a collaboration between writer Mark Russell and artist Steve Pugh. Russell has collaborated on a few notable comics and comics-related books, including the profane and funny God Is Disappointed in You and a contemporary reboot of Prez. Pugh has been active in comics for decades, and his most notable works in the US have been multiple runs on Animal Man and drawing the Saint of Killers mini-series. Both creators speak about their work on this series in this interview.

All of the reviews I have read about this book have been positive. Publishers Weekly gave it a starred review and summed up, "Broad satire like this can risk a level of smarminess, but this is avoided through some sweet characterizations that present Fred and Barney as lovable lunkheads whose sincerity often sets them apart from the rest of Stone Age society." Ken Petti wrote that it was full of "solid stories with real emotional punch." Jacob Brogan commented about the various satires and that "what emerges is a story about the profound fragility of civilization—but also about the unlikely durability of the human connections that make it up."

The Flintstones, Volume 1 was published by DC Comics, and they have more info about the series here.

Invisible Ink: My Mother's Secret Love Affair with a Famous Cartoonist

Bill Griffith has been making comics since 1969, and he was involved in producing a good number of underground comix. But he is best known for his long-running syndicated comic strip Zippy the Pinhead, with its serial title character and catchphrase, "Are we having fun yet?" I used to read Zippy all the time, and I loved its obscure references, attention to nostalgia, and biting social commentary. A million years ago when I was in high school, I even drew a number of comic strips about a local pharmacist (Hi Nunzio!) using Zippy as my template. So, when I saw that Griffith had finally created a graphic novel, and one with such a salacious title I was eager to check it out. I am glad to say that it is a very worthwhile read. The comics are well drawn and composed, and the story is very compelling and substantial.

Invisible Ink is one of the most intimate books I have read. It is an exploration by the author of his parents' lives mostly via the artifacts that they have left behind. Much of the book is composed like the following excerpt, with a lot of Griffith's inner dialogue interspersed with images that propel and illuminate the narrative:

I was worried as I read the book that I might get bogged down by so much of the verbal exposition, but there is a good mix of sections that are more word-dense and ones where the imagery dominates the pages, like the following:

In the end, I was struck by just how much of a mystery this book was, with Griffith struggling to learn just who his parents were. His mother seemed to be striving for a bohemian, scholarly life but was trapped by her social situations and took respite in a long affair with a cartoonist, Lawrence Lariar, whose fame was fleeting and today is all but forgotten. More troubling and less spoken of, Griffith also sought to know more about his terse, gruff, and turbulent father, though in the end he is still left with a lot of conjecture about both. Certainly, I can see some people not really caring about one person's family history, as idiosyncratic as it is, but still I feel this book gets at many important themes about life, love, and family, not to mention a close look at mid-20th century romantic relationships.

This is a cerebral and deeply personal book, perhaps most typified by a sequence of pages toward the end with small, wordless tableaus accompany large text tracts of Griffith's mother's letters. I know that I was worried about the words taking over the imagery, but perhaps the best part of the book was seeing those spare images along with the deeply felt, well composed letters where she spills most of her guts. Here, virtuoso images juxtapose with artful, accomplished prose with heart-rending results.

For those wanting to know more about the book's origins, Griffith speaks more about his inspirations and intentions in this interview.

All of the reviews I have read about this book show positive responses to a complex narrative. Etelka Lehoczky wrote, "Griffith's wonderful art and charmingly bemused perspicacity would make Invisible Ink a treat even if it stuck to the narrow topic of the affair and its effect on his childhood. But he goes far beyond that." Hillary Brown commented that the book "is at its best when Griffith meanders into tangents, not when he sticks to the main narrative, which isn’t a particularly long or complex story." Publishers Weekly called it "an evocative portrait of postwar America." Henry Chamberlain wrote that what is best about the book is that Griffith "is just like any of us trying to deal with the past and that is an excellent hook for readers."

Invisible Ink was published by Fantagraphics, who has an excerpt and more information available here.

Tim Ginger

I think if there is any question that we are living in a great age for graphic novels, Tim Ginger would settle it. This beautiful, spare, idiosyncratic  book is unlike other graphic novels I have read, with a pretty singular subject and wonderful execution. It focuses on the life of an ex-test pilot living out in the desert after being widowed. He leaves this sanctuary to go on a book signing tour where he encounters a persistent conspiracy theorist who keeps asking him questions and an old friend who brings back lots of buried feelings and remorse.

All of these interactions are prelude to contemplations of life, marriage, family, legacies, love, and keeping secrets. Additionally, his old friend is a potential old flame who has written a book of comics about people who decided to not have children, which is excerpted throughout, adding a meta-commentary to the proceedings. I feel the entire narrative is mature and nuanced, aided by expert storytelling that is effective at simultaneously being evocative and subtle while also incorporating some flights of fancy.

I feel that the artwork is appropriately stylized so that feelings are as muted as the coloring, and overall I was quite moved by what I read. I cannot see this book being of much interest to younger readers, but I feel that it is an excellent meditation on life, love, and finding one's place in the world.

Award winning artist Julian Hanshaw created this volume. He is from the UK and is known for his prior two graphic novels The Art of Pho (also available as a motion comic) and I'm Never Coming Back. Tim Ginger is his US debut, and he speaks at length about its creation in this article.

All of the reviews I have read about this book have been full of praise. Joe Gordon called it "a hugely satisfying, maturely emotional work, which gets under your skin in a quiet, calm, gentle manner." Neil Bason praised it as "deeply moving, brilliantly witty, and wonderfully written." Chris White wrote, "The story of Tim Ginger will stay with me for some time, thanks to the great writing and artwork—take a chance on this smart, funny and emotional indie comic and thank me later."

Tim Ginger was published by Top Shelf, and they provide a preview and more here.

Archie: The Married Life, Book 1

Yesterday, we saw the marriage part, but here we see how everything plays out. This book is a huge chunk of comics, and in its pages we see what happens as these characters get older. The storyline is split in two, alternating between the path where Archie married Veronica and the one where he married Betty. There are some common features between the two: Moose learns to manage his anger and decides to run for mayor.

Reggie and Veronica circle around each other, finding it difficult to break old patterns.

Mr. Lodge becomes more than a parental nuisance and reaches evil supervillain status as he tries to buy up all of Riverdale so he can turn it into a haven of strip malls, chain stores, national franchises, and vast parking lots.

Jughead decides he wants to buy the Choklit Shoppe and run it as his own, if he can afford it.

A standout Little Archie character in the stories by Bob Bolling, Little Ambrose returns to the proceedings, all grown up and running a restaurant/club.

Also, super-smart geek Dilton is curiously missing, but seems to be in the story as a mysterious time traveler who is trying to affect history.

That last element especially seems to color the narrative, as these stories gesture toward a continuity where all the Archie stories and characters of the past (including some very kooky ones) actually happened in part of a multiverse. This is a vast change from past Archie stories that, save for a few examples I can think of such as some of Samm Schwartz's Jughead stories or the 1987 Jughead series, were largely ahistorical comedies or parodies of popular culture. Stand-alone stories are what made it so easy for the editors to package and repackage so much material into various collections and digests, but here we see a series of interconnected comic books more in the narrative vein of typical superhero comics.

This extended narrative was about 100% better than the gimmicky marriage volume I reviewed yesterday. Sure, there are some still cheesy parts, such as the teens' former teachers all pairing up and getting married after all these years, but there are also genuine surprises and emotional moments in this book. The tensions of married life, shifting dynamics between characters who are growing up, and well-plotted narrative make for some very compelling reading.

The credit for a snappy story goes to Michael Uslan and Paul Kupperberg, two veterans of the comics industry. Uslan is a big-time movie producer and former university instructor who taught the first accredited course on comic books. Kupperberg is a writer and former DC Comics editor with a long list of credits. But perhaps the most appealing part of the book for me is the incredible artwork from Norm Breyfogle. Breyfogle is well known for a long run on Batman comics in the 1990s, and his distinction style conveys much action, emotion, and energy into the narratives. I love the dynamism of his layouts, and his style is dramatic and evocative here. He is a master draftsman whose artwork adds so much to the proceedings. There have been some excellent, admirable artists to draw this cast of characters over the years, but I do not think I have ever seen as lively an Archie comic ever before.

The book is available here for purchase, and there are also two consequent volumes already out.

Well, I have looked in at Archie as he is growing up. Tomorrow, I am turning my attention to a favorite minor character in the Archie universe who was given the YA literature treatment. Come on back and catch up with Li'l Jinx!

Archie in "Will You Marry Me?"

First up in Catching Up With Archie Week is marriage. For this book, writer Michael Uslan, probably the first person to teach an accredited college course on comic books and also the producer of the 1989 Batman movie, tells a landmark story. After decades of asking which character Archie would end up with in the end, Betty or Veronica, the answer was finally revealed: Both of them!

Now that is bad timing on Betty's part!

Archie is into PDA apparently. Plus, all his friends are just too psyched. Except Ronnie, of course.

This collection contains a six issue span, with three issues each devoted to two alternate futures, one where Archie asks Veronica to marry him and another where he asks Betty. There are common features to both. The entire teenage cast goes to the same university and stays completely in touch with each other. In each, the woman says yes. The couples get married in what seem to be the happiest of circumstances ever. And in the end, they have two children, a boy and a girl naturally, and both favor their parents and, remarkably, are named Little Archie and Little Veronica/Betty. Creepy.

And now we return to Archie's Very WASPy Christmas...

Aside from the cookie cutter heteronormativity and over-the-top ecstasy about the weddings from everyone in Riverdale, I found a couple parts interesting, mostly the interactions between ancillary characters. Seeing how Archie finally stood up to Mr. Lodge was novel, and seeing who Jughead ended up marrying was interesting, but the only real bits of substance came from exploring how Betty and Veronica dealt with each other after Archie had popped the question. Apart from those bright spots, I found this book to be incredibly treacly and self-serving.

Everybody is just SO HAPPY.

Another aspect that struck me about the book was how sketchy and loose the artwork seemed in places. For a book that is rather monumental, I thought that long-tenured artists Stan Goldberg and Bob Smith's figures look a bit wonky and off-model in places.

This book is available here for purchase.

Tomorrow, I will be talking about the series that follows this cheesefest, The Married Life, and I hope things get better...

Bottomless Belly Button

This long, involved graphic novel reads very much like a Jonathan Franzen novel. By this I do not mean to say it is derivative but that it succeeds in experimenting with narrative form and also delivering quite powerful emotional reactions with economy.

Bottomless Belly Button follows the Loony family during a 6 day long family reunion. The cast of characters includes the grandparents, the matriarch and patriarch of the family, a couple who have been married 40 years and have decided they want a divorce. Also there is their oldest son, Dennis, who comes with his wife Aki and their infant son Alex. Dennis is the "good son" and his own marriage is not great. He takes his parents' announcement particularly hard. Middle child Claire is a divorcee accompanied by her teenage daughter Jill. Rounding out the cast is Dennis, the youngest son, a stunted, loner film school graduate. He is depicted cartoonishly as looking like a frog. Over the course of the 6 days, we get to see how the Loonies interact, look into their love lives, and share in their thoughts and feelings.

This graphic novel was made by Dash Shaw, a prolific artist, animator, and musician who has created a number of other sequential art works such as Bodyworld, Goddess Head, and The Mother's Mouth. His works push the boundaries of what comics can depict, and they have been published in the US and abroad. Most recently, Shaw has been working on an animated feature, The Ruined Cast. He speaks more about his life and career in this New York article.

Reviews have been positive, ranging from gushing to more measured. The New York Times called BBB engrossing and offered that the book "packs a wallop." Craig Taylor wrote that Shaw flirts with "navel gazing" but succeeds in depicting "small moments of change with the clarity of a novelist." Charles Hatfield opined that "Shaw's grasp of the family is admirably complex" and also wrote positively about how the book "is full of formal gambits that are meant to render legible things that are usually not caught by comics: dust motes sparkling in sunlight, the glare of fluorescent lights, what it feels like to immerse your body in seawater." I echo his conclusions that this BBB is "not perfect" but it is "a very strong, very cool book."

Bottomless Belly Button was published by Fantagraphics, who provide a good number of links and previews here. A video trailer and sizable excerpt is also available here at Shaw's website.