I'm kind of falling out of keeping up to date with comics at the moment, diving instead into huge multiple book series either that can be grabbed on the cheap (most recently Morrison's New X-Men, about which I need to think further and maybe reread) or rereading stuff I've already got (Y: The Last Man, which probably has a post forthcoming). I don't know if this is a comment on the quality of comics at the moment, or on my lifestyle, but just some background on the choices below.
Neil Young's GreendaleSometimes, the term graphic novel actually manages to hit a nail right on the head. Small immersive pockets of pure fiction. Okay, it's wrong because a work like Greendale isn't anywhere near the length of a novel. It is, in fact, about half a film in a length. To pick one, it's Donnie Darko minus the Lynch. But that breathtaking feeling of emerging the other side is exactly the same.
It makes sense, perhaps, to talk about it in these terms, comparing it to other media. After all, this was apparently a film already, as well as (obviously, I guess) a Neil Young album. But I know nothing about that, and nothing about Neil Young beyond ... Young Neil from Scott Pilgrim.
Most impressively, it makes an interesting story from subjects I'm not necessarily that interested in. The Bush administration and the mess that was '00s America got chewed up so thoroughly by the culture of that time that I'm not able to take it all that seriously. But that is intertwined with characters that are easy to care about, especially as illustrated in Cliff Chiang's ... okay, I have to say it again ... magical brushstrokes.
But the magic of the book - and magic is the word that I would hammer repeatedly and forcefully, were this a full-length review - is somehow novelistic. It's open ended. It's got the big stuff - the world - and the small stuff - being a teenager - all knitted together. It deals with the weird in a casual, magical-realism-ish way.
The story opens with a stock tragedy. The composition and colours and lines somehow make you immediately care about it. That's a perfect microcosm of this book, I reckon. I picked it up quite by accident, nonchalantly, and emerged an hour later breathless. Magic.
Batman & Robin/Return of Bruce WayneIt's boring, because this was the centre-piece of my choices three months ago, but this has been undeniably the dominant force in my reading for a while now. And comics move slower, anyway. A 'Quarter', our chosen measure of time, contains 3 titles of a comic if you're lucky. I'd ban myself from talking about it, but for wanting to talk about it forever and forever like a man infected with a particularly chatty strain of the Joker virus.
Batman* has been interesting all through, but this is it finally reaching narrative maturity. All the plot threads are finally coming together, and answers to all the craziness that has been the last half-decade of Batman comics are promised. We're at the perfect point of any story like this, where ideas begin to crystallise and rush around your mind. In rollercoaster terms, we've just climbed that final ramp and can just about see the big drop.
But for now, all that doesn't matter, because it's the story and the mystery that keeps bringing me back. It's the thing I impatiently check the weekly listings for, every week. That's thanks to breathless cliffhangers and tightly-cut-together Big Moments, just as much as it is the trademark Morrison craziness. By the next time I write about this, it'll all be over and I'll have the scalpel to go at what it all means. See you there.
*For more on the idea of 'runs' in comics, see last Quarter.
And that just about wraps everything up, by my reckoning. I'm leaving games out for now, as it's hard to be succinct about every game I want to talk about. They'll get their own pieces, in time. And besides, this has been the biggest one yet, I think. As if I haven't wasted enough of your time already...