Review: Henry & Glenn Forever, by Igloo Tornado

What is Henry & Glenn Forever? If, like me, you've been living under a rock since 2010, you might need an introduction. The one from the book itself ought to do:

Henry [Rollins] and Glenn [Danzig] are very good "friends."

They are also "room mates."

Daryl [Hall] and John [Oates] live next door.

They are satanists.

That's all you need to know.

Sounds like the set-up for an in-your-face, sure-to-offend exercise in excess, right? Well, think again, because the best adjective I can come up with for H+G=4EVA (apart from "hilarious") is "charming." In casting these hard rock/metal icons as gay lovers, the cartoonists of Igloo Tornado (a collective consisting of Tom Neely, Gin Stevens, Scot Nobles, and Levon Jihania) chose--wisely--to focus not on stereotypical "gay" tropes but, instead, to focus on the idea of "lovers." Thus, for example, we get several pages from Glenn's diary filled with his feelings of insecurity about his relationship with Henry:

i yelled at Henry the other day because he never does the dishes and i always end up being the one who cleans up after him. i wanna help him because he's so busy getting ready for his tour, but i'm so overwhelmed...

It's not all sadness and regret, however. The book is comprised of one-page comics and drawings, from diary entries and postcards, to single-panel gag cartoons, to repetitive headshots of the couple, with Henry saying something enigmatic and Glenn always--always--agreeing with him. My favorite comic, perhaps, consists of a conversation about painting the bathroom black: Glenn is brushing his teeth, and Henry's taking a bubble bath. Sheer domesticity. There are also running gags about Glenn's fixation with werewolves, and about the couple's missing dog that Seussian satanists Daryl & John may or may not know something about.

Silly, simple and a bit surreal, but never really exploitative, Henry & Glenn Forever nevertheless manages to convey more genuine emotion than many other "serious" graphic novels I've read. But it also includes a scene with all four main characters jamming to "Kiss On My List." Sublime, meet ridiculous.

Henry & Glenn Forever

by Igloo Tornado

Cantankerous Titles, 2010

ISBN-10: 1934620939

ISBN-13: 978-1934620939

64 pages, $6.00

Review: After the Fall, by Victoria Roberts

If you're even a casual reader of The New Yorker, you're familiar with the cartoons of Victoria Roberts: They usually feature a prominently-beschnozzed couple quipping about some facet of modern urban life. They're almost the prototypical New Yorker cartoons, except that they skew towards the absurd juuuuuust a bit in a way that no one else's manage to do. I was lucky enough to get to meet Roberts at the Ohio State University Festival of Cartoon Art in 1998, where she was one of the guests. As you might expect, she was as funny and engaging in person as she is in print, and personable, to boot.

So I was excited when I learned that she had recently published an illustrated novel, After the Fall. It's the tale of a quirky Manhattan family (the father's an inventor, the mother's a socialite from Buenos Ares, and the children are precocious) who lose their penthouse and are forced to live in Central Park, cut off from (most of) their creature comforts and needing to survive by wits and charity.

I generally enjoyed the story, although it is very slight. This is a small book, and there are at least one or two illustrations on all but maybe three pages. If you removed the illustrations, the remaining text would make for a fairly short story, so if you're looking forward to luxuriating in a novel's prose, this is not the book for you. While Roberts definitely can turn a phrase with élan, the book's prose is nonetheless somewhat too sketchy for my taste. It reads like something between an urban folktale and a story pitch, with the latter dominating quite a bit. There are great small bits throughout, but I found myself wishing there were more meat on these narrative bones.

The black and white cartoon image are charming and playful, as you'd expect from Roberts' New Yorker work and as the tale demands. While they sometimes act as straightforward illustrations, simply replicating a scene or idea that the text has already described, there are plenty of instances where the images expand on the text in interesting ways. For example, when the narration by Alex (the son) states that "It was more disconcerting than anything else to have our parents get along so well" (82), the facing-page illustration shows Mother and Pops engaged in a game of Twister (with a squirrel holding up the spinner board); the parents are fully clothed (Mother in her turtleneck and slacks, Pops in his bathrobe and matching pajamas), but the pose manages to be simultaneously clearly joyful and also slightly suggestive, making the children's discomfort at their parents' happiness understandable.

Such text/image richness does help to flesh out the story beyond the somewhat bare-bones prose, but it isn't done consistently or dynamically enough to really develop the narrative in ways that justify calling the book a "novel." It's an whimsically entertaining, illustrated short story. Perhaps that is enough.

And, a side note to whoever created After the Fall's Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data: Just because a book contains cartoon images, that does not make it a "graphic novel." This is yet another example of why I dislike the term "graphic novel": Its over- and misuse as a marketing term has rendered it almost utterly meaningless. After the Fall is no more a graphic novel than are the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books - and those books, at least, sometimes contain brief comics narratives (panel-to-panel storytelling, word balloons). Have we really reached a point where publishers are more comfortable calling an illustrated book for adults a "graphic novel" than they are calling it a "story with pictures"? If so, that is a sorry state of affairs.

After the Fall: A Novel

by Victoria Roberts

W. W. Norton & Company, 2012

ISBN-10: 0393073556

ISBN-13: 978-0393073553

188 pages, $24.95

Review: Goliath, by Tom Gauld

Tom Gauld's Goliath retells the biblical tale of "David and Goliath," as originally recounted in 1 Samuel 17, except that this version is told from the giant's point of view. And a very reluctant giant he is; hardly a warrior ("I mainly do admin"), Goliath of Gath is thrust into his position as the Philistines's representative champion though the machinations of a scheming captain. His confusion is palpable, and understandable, but -- being a good soldier -- he does as he's told, finding a sort of peace in his new lot until the inevitable end. As you'd expect from the title, it's Goliath who has our sympathies in this version of the tale: The Giant as Everyman.

Gauld is a crackerjack cartoonist, and his somewhat geometric art style lends a bit of ancientness and grandeur to his telling, even as his dialogue is often mundane and just-this-side-of-sarcastically humorous. His choice to include biblical narration at various points throughout the tale reminds us that this is an old story, yet it also serves as a foil to his own chosen perspective on events, creating ironic high/low tonal distinctions. He also does amazing things with text, such as chopping off word balloons in unexpected fashions to create mood or utilizing a bizarre "typeface" for an Israelite's speech to highlight the fact that Goliath can't understand a word the other man is saying.

The book is a joy to read, but -- because Gauld is such a master of pacing and the use of silent panels -- it also seemed to be over far too quickly. I find myself in the odd position of wishing that this tale were the anchor story in an anthology of other work by Gauld; Goliath is more of an excellently realized "graphic short story" than a "graphic novel." I know that he has another book in the works, a collection of his Guardian strips, and I'm very much looking forward to that. (You can get a preview of those strips in his excellent Tumblr site, You're All Just Jealous of My Jetpack.) I'm also looking forward to seeing him apply his considerable cartooning chops to a really long-form narrative in the future.

Goliath

by Tom Gauld

Drawn and Quarterly, 2012

ISBN-10: 1770460659

ISBN-13: 978-1770460652

96 pages, $19.95

Review: The Evil Garden, by Edward Gorey

A bubbling pond, a malicious rock, an aunt-eating plant: all this and more await within The Evil Garden by Edward Gorey - or rather, by Eduard Blutig, translated by Mrs. Regera Dowdy, with pictures by O. Müde, as the book's preface would have it. Anyone already familiar with Gorey's brand of Edwardian crosshatchings knows what they're in store for here; for those unfamiliar, let's just say that your dictionary's entry for "dark, dry humor" should be illustrated with one of Gorey's images.

Told in rhymed couplets and wry illustrations, The Evil Garden is a pleasant diversion, made moreso by Pomegranate Communications' attention to detail (love the vegetative endpapers!). A quick but satisfying read, and a perfect gift book for that special someone who delights in the macabre.

The Evil Garden

by Edward Gorey

Pomegranate, 2011

ISBN-10: 0764958852

ISBN-13: 978-0764958854

32 pages, $12.95

A version of this review was originally published at LibraryThing.

Review: I Like You, by Amy Sedaris

This book, a collection of home-entertaining party ideas, decorating tips, and recipes was mostly a whole lot of fun. Amy Sedaris can always make me laugh, even if - indeed, especially because - her humor can be... more than occasionally inappropriate. I was surprised, though, that at times the book actually conveyed some genuine warmth and compassion along with all the kitsch and non-p.c. silliness.

Unfortunately, I read a Kindle version, borrowed from my library. Big mistake. The print book is highly illustrated and designed, but the beauty and the layout-logic of the printed book just get destroyed in the ebook version. So. Ugly.

I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence

by Amy Sedaris

Warner Books, 2009

ISBN-10: 0446696773

ISBN-13: 978-0446696777

304 pages, $15.99

A version of this review was originally published at Goodreads.

Review: Scenes from an Impending Marriage, by Adrian Tomine

I was a big fan of Adrian Tomine's Optic Nerve when it was first being published, but eventually I became disenchanted with his work; it just became to seem too sterile, too "same-y" for my tastes. But when I read an excerpt of Scenes from an Impending Marriage in this year's Best American Comics anthology, I was enchanted, and I quickly requested a copy of the book from my library. I wasn't disappointed.

Tomine's cartooning is looser here than I'm used to seeing - he's having fun, and it shows. The book is a collection of short-short stories, vignettes, and even one-panel cartoons concerning the planning of his wedding to his fiancee Sarah. Anyone who's ever gotten married will identify with these mini-horror stories, which are nevertheless told with engaging humor. The influence of Charles Schulz (Peanuts) shows up more than once here, to good effect. This is a slight book (you can read it in a few minutes), but it's a keeper, and it has convinced me to check out some more of Tomine's recent work. If it's half as entertaining as this book, I'll be happy.

Scenes from An Impending Marriage

a prenuptial memoir by Adrian Tomine

Drawn & Quarterly, 2011
ISBN-10: 1770460349
ISBN-13: 978-1770460348
54 pages, $9.95

Review: The Truth About Cousin Ernie's Head, by Matthew McElligott

What a strange little book! Crazy family arguments are "settled" in an unusual way, through the discovery of old home movies, with disastrous results. Some innovative visual storytelling (which I won't give away here) adds to the fun. The library categorizes this children's picturebook as a Holiday book, because the story takes place at Thanksgiving, but it would make a good read for any time.

The Truth About Cousin Ernie's Head by Matthew McElligott Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing, 1996 ISBN-10: 0689801793 ISBN-13: 978-0689801792 32 pages, $16.99[?]

This review was originally published in slightly different form at Goodreads.