Reviews With Something Approaching Regularity

Once upon a time, a collection of Native American writers teamed up with some of comic’s finest to create a unique and powerful anthology. Moonshot: The Indigenous Comics Collection pays tribute to a lush legacy of Native storytelling from a wide array of tribes, respecting their traditions while pointing to their potential. The Moonshot series is written for the present, defying the static nature of most Native-American portrayals. A rich web of collaborators work to share stories old and new with a world drowning in beads-and-feather stereotypes. Along the way, the tales in these two volumes push the limits of fantasy, sci-fi, horror, history, social commentary, drama, and modern art. Not only is Moonshot an important book, it’s a truly excellent one, with jaw-dropping artwork and brilliant writing. I feel lucky to have stumbled upon it, and to leave in the world where such feats of the imagination are possible. I hope all the tasteful readers out there will end up feeling the same.

I’ve never been a fan of audiobooks, so I’m lucky that I got an introduction to them through Catherynne M. Valente’s The Refrigerator Monologues. Valente introduces us to six women from a Marvel/DC-esque world of superheroes, who have gathered in the afterlife to commiserate about being “refrigerated.” This term, coined by writer and feminist Gail Simone, describes the unfortunate tendency of comic books (and movies) to inflict death and suffering on female characters so male characters can experience growth. Valente has built an entire universe based on this phenomenon, giving us a powerful slice of life–and death–in the four-color world. She pays tribute to the imaginative power of supercomics, while simultaneously casting their flaws in a painfully honest light. Valente’s words, like the rest of her work, dance on the parge with the energy and grace of a tights-and-spandex fight. Her stories are complemented by Anne Wu’s lush drawings and brought to life by Karis A. Campbell’s incredible voice. We join Valente’s characters in their diverse struggles to escape stereotypes and show their world their perspective. These women are full-blooded, powerful heroines who will not let death or tradition silence them. Valente and her fellow witches have cooked up something glorious that everyone, from literature priests to hard-core comic nerds, should be lining up to savor.

In the The Country of Ice Cream Star, Sandra Newman has imagined a post apocalyptic world of children, where the only adults–or white people, for that matter–are the invading Russian “roos.” The sins and virtues of society have been reborn in the ashes of a country ravaged by the deadly posies, a disease that kills people in their early twenties. Our heroine, Ice Cream Star, is a Sengle, one of a band of wild children who eke out an existence in the space between the bizarre religions, marauding slavers, soldier children, and technological clans that fill this vicious new world. When Ice Cream’s beloved older brother, Driver, is stricken with posies, her only hope for a cure comes from the Roo deserter Pasha, a broken man with blood on his hands. As the Roos spill across America in a destructive tide, Ice Cream must battle to unite her fellow children before they are all consumed. Her quest is one of painful growth and loss, one that will force her to choose between safety and preserving her humanity. Ice Cream will rise to be a leader of her people, a reluctant savior for a city of mad children, and a heroine whose actions will shape her people’s future. She tells her epic story in a unique dialect that verges on poetry, pulling readers ever deeper into her fractured world. Like the narrator herself, The County of Ice Cream Star is beautiful and terrifying in equal measure, giving us a painfully clear at the messy realities of love, sex, transformation, society, faith, and redemption. Newman builds worlds and characters with equal finesse, showing us the hopes and horrors of this dark future through the eyes of a girl like no other.

From Ed Brubaker and Sean Philips, the masterminds behind some of Image and Marvel Comics’ biggest hits, comes the electrifying Fatale. This is the story of the mysterious Jo, a beautiful immortal whose supernatural ability to attract men and monsters alike will send her hurtling across the decades in a bloody rush. The plot shifts between time periods to reveal the fates of Jo and those under her sway, as one lover after another finds himself entangled in a bloody mystery with apocalyptic implications. Jo is a powerful, complex heroine, struggling to hold onto her humanity throughout her brutal battle for survival. Fatale blends noir, feminism, fantasy, historical fiction, mystery, horror, and the occult for a truly addictive brew. The rich American landscapes and gore-spattered altars are picked out in equally loving detail by Philips, while Brubaker displays a masterful talent for whip-smart dialogue and rich worldbuilding. Love her, fear her, want to be her…the legend of Jo turns every trope on its head to create an American fable worthy of the name.

Novelist Shaun Hamil hits the ground running with A Cosmology of Monsters, his masterful novel. It’s the story of the Turner family, which finds itself overshadowed across the generations by Lovecraftian forces from beyond. As their youngest son, Noah, tries to make sense of his family’s fractured dynamics and discovers himself at their commercial haunted house, he finds his life changed after establishing a connection with an impossible creature. As his fate becomes intertwined with the designs of the mysterious City, Noah is forced to face hard truths about love, loss, damaged souls, and the special pains of growing up.

The book pays tribute to horror tropes while at the same building beyond them, creating a rich cast of flawed, complex characters just trying to live their lives in a world where the darkly magical is only a hair’s breadth away. The perfectly spun narrative manages to blur the line between good and evil, while still producing a decent help of shock and awe. As we charge steadily through the years and toward a gut-wrenching climax, Hamil merrily flicks every monster-story cliche on its head. This is a pristine work of horror fantasy that deserves its place among the greats, guided by a boundless imagination and a skilled grasp of language. I will be awaiting the author’s next offering with breathless anticipation.

Tinfoil Butterfly is the story of Emma, a deeply disturbed young woman whose self-destructive journey through the Black Hills has left her stranded in a near-deserted town. There, she is offered an unlikely trance for redemption in the form of Earl, a talented, damaged child struggling to escape from the brutal George. Despite her attempts to brush Earl off, Emma finds herself sucked into his battle for survival, hurtling towards an ending that can only be written in blood. Along the way, she is forced to confront the sins of her own past in order to have some hope for a future. This short, brutal novel pushes the limits of psychological horror, with a touch of the supernatural mixed in. The characters must each struggle to confront their own personal insanities as they battle for love and destruction. A thriller, a drama, and so much more, Tinfoil Butterfly will test the limits of how you see gender, family, sanity, and the power of home.

Warren Ellis has rocked the world over and over again with a spectacle of creative, subversive comics. Now, he turns his poison pen to prose for Crooked Little Vein, the endlessly imaginative story of a very unlucky private detective with a knack for constantly stumbling into the weirdest situation possible. He finds himself pressganged into tracking down the “real” Constitution, a mystical book that has passed through the hands of some of the wackiest sex freaks on the continent. With the sharp-tongued, polyamorous Trix at his side and a psychotic Chief of Staff breathing down his neck, Michael McGill will hurtle his way through a America standing on the line between fierce satire and crushing reality. He’ll wander the mean streets of some of our worst/greatest cities, face a rogues’ gallery of human monsters, and ultimately make a decision with nation-shaping implications. Crooked Little Vein stretches the limits of satire, horror, noir, magical realism, romance, and the weird things the human body can be subjected to in the name of pleasure. Warren Ellis, as usual, brings a razor wit and a surprising amount of heart to his writing. Mike and Trix’s journey is hilariously brutal and brutally hilarious, but it also might give you a valuable insight into the true, precious nature of love, freedom, and the American way.

Christopher Moore, comedy writer extraordinaire, takes on the Greatest Story Ever Told in Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal. Our sardonic narrator, Levi who is called Biff, has just been abruptly resurrected into the modern world and set to write a new Gospel under the supervision of the most dimwitted angel in the cosmos. So begins Biff’s recollection of his time with Jesus called Josh, a lovable boy struggling to make sense of his incredible powers. When Jesus attempts to seek enlightenment from the three wise men, Biff tags along, kicking off a globe-trotting quest through a world that’s far more magical, dangerous, and hilariously bizarre than the Testament ever said. Biff will face monsters, explore the nature of reality, and fall for a ton of girls, including the fierce and beautiful Magdalene. But for all the magic and laughter, nothing can stop the story of Christ from reaching its heartbreaking conclusion. Lamb is funny, emotional, and powerful, with a message of love and hope that will stay with you long after the final page. It’s also a magnificent starting point for anyone ready to explore the library of Moore masterpieces waiting out there.

In 2009, the members of a Mennonite colony in Bolivia were shaken by the discovery that their women had been repeatedly drugged and raped over several years. Although the perpetrators were imprisoned, the colony elders raced to cover up the scandal as quickly as possible, and it was almost forgotten–until now. Miriam Toews has dragged that horror, and every other that comes with living in a religious patriarchy, into the light. Women Talking reimagines the event through the eyes of a fictional group of Mennonite women, who have gathered in a senile man’s hayloft to choose their response to years of secret violation. They have two options–run or fight–both equally terrifying. The minutes of the meaning are recorded by August Epp, a troubled schoolteacher who finds new meaning in this bizarre task. He witnesses the women’s struggle to make the biggest decision of their lives, which turns into a painful debate on love, faith, evil, and self-determination. Miriam Toews has built a richly detailed cast of characters to lead us through the dark corners of religion. Her women show strength, wisdom, and complexity on par with the greatest superheroes. As they struggle with themselves and each other, the reader is forced to confront the far greater battles that are being waged across the globe between women and the men who seek to oppress them. Toews’ work is brutal, insightful, darkly funny, and not to be missed. I would it recommend for readers of every race, gender, nationality, and creed.

Nameless is, like many of Grant Morrison’s other works, a story that starts out straightforward and descends into gibbering lunacy. We begin on an occult space mission–think 2001: A Space Odyssey crossed with John Constantine: Hellblazer and a dash of Inception. By the end we’re drowning in an exquisite stew of rampant destruction, duality, unusual tarot cards, and feminism. The story in between is confusing to the point of being infuriating, but it’s also a beautiful and engaging work of art. Chris Burnham, Nathan Fairbarn, and Simon Bowland are a brilliant artistic team whose work appears ooze appears, crawl, shriek, and burn across the page. Morrison has injected his book with years of research as a “chaos magician” (all helpfully explained in the back of the hardcover edition) that put the finishing touches on a fascinating literary spell. It’s a disorienting read, and that’s how the author likes it. I’m pretty sure he was taking some interesting drugs while writing, and in the end I’m grateful to have been invited along on his trip.