It's been raining graphic novels here in the Comics Cave. Let's look at a few:
"Kent State: Four Dead in Ohio," by John "Derf" Backderf, Abrams ComicArts, $24.99.
Backderf made a name for himself with "My Friend Dahmer," a graphic novel that was part memoir, as Backderf actually knew the future serial killer as a teenager. I confess I haven't read it.
I also confess that I'm not especially fond of Backderf's art style, which reminds me strongly of several underground cartoonists from the '60s (but not the famous ones). It's serviceable but simplistic.
But, boy howdy, does he make up for it with research. This book is amazingly detailed and informative. Which is what makes it all the more horrifying.
Most of us know the basic outlines of the events of May 4, 1970, at Kent State University in northeast Ohio. Heck, all you have to do is listen to the famous Crosby, Stills Nash and Young song, "Four Dead in Ohio," to get the gist: Ohio National Guard troops opened fire on unarmed students protesting the Vietnam War, killing four.
But there's a lot more to the story, and Backderf tells it. He finds every interview, every news story, every autopsy report. He takes you into the lives of various students and Guardsmen days before the event, allowing you to get to know each one personally.
Which makes it all the more horrific when some of the people you've come to know are killed or badly wounded. You even feel a little sympathy for some of the Guardsmen, not all of whom were gung ho.
But you know, a bunch of 'em were. Sure, the protesters weren't all angels. They did burn down the ROTC building. They committed acts of vandalism. They threw rocks. They flipped the bird to the troops and called them names.
For which four of them got the death penalty, and several others were crippled for life. This is called an "overreaction," which is pretty much how to describe the behavior of the authorities, including those of the university, throughout. Before the shootings, students (whether protesting or not) were tear-gassed, beaten with clubs and bayonetted.
Then came the shootings. The Guardsmen were armed with the M-1 Garand, firing a .30-caliber, inch-long, copper-jacketed bullet that "can go clean through a foot-thick tree stump or through four men standing in a row ... and kill them all." When the Guardsmen were ordered to "lock and load" _ chambering a round that can be fired instantly when the trigger is pulled _ something bad was pretty much guaranteed to happen.
And when it did, it wasn't just the four made famous by the song who suffered. The high-powered weaponry tore off body parts from unsuspecting students going to class or to lunch two and three football fields away. The Guardsman opened fire indiscriminately into the campus of a large university _ of course it was utter carnage.
And the result, when it was over, was that the students were blamed. Sound familiar? Some of the most shocking material comes after the shooting, as Backderf describes authorities covering up their mistakes, one captain planting a pistol on a dead student and the entire student body marched out of town _ by armed townsfolk.
So I led with the minor quibbles I had with "Kent State." Because I wanted to finish with a crescendo, describing what a powerful, effective and affecting work it is. It speaks directly to today, with victims once again being blamed for their own deaths and authorities painting protest as violent when it's not.
"School for Extraterrestrial Girls: Girl on Fire," written by Jeremy Whitley, art by Jamie Noguchi, Papercutz, $12.99.
Tara Smith is a nose-to-the-grindstone high school student with strict parents. That's not a terribly unusual circumstance, but it takes a turn when Tara finds out she's an alien wearing a shapeshifting device, and her parents have been lying her entire life.
Tara is some sort of reptilian alien who can burst into flame, which explains much of the title. She is adopted into a hidden school for the many aliens who apparently live on Earth, which explains the rest. As for her parents ... that's a mystery for the inevitable sequel.
Which is not a complaint. "School," like Whitley's "Unstoppable Wasp" for Marvel, is utterly charming. I have never been a teenage girl, but the dialogue, relationships and over-the-top drama _ complicated by aliens with bizarre powers and appearances _ ring true. The art is manga-inflected but not overly so, and is altogether ... what's the word? Oh yes, charming.
"School" leaves several loose threads (those parents, for example) and ends on a cliffhanger. I'm not the target market here, which is YA. But I'm interested enough for another helping.
"The Glass Wall," written by William Robertson, art by Yulia Lapko, Soaring Penguin Press, $21.99.
This mature-readers GN stars Lucian, an aimless, early twenties, self-absorbed East Ender in London, who moves in a haze of sex, drugs and whining among other aimless, early twenties, self-absorbed East Enders. The plot, such as it is, is that Lucian's world is impacted when his best friend is accused of raping his ex-girlfriend.
To tell you the truth, I found it hard to sympathize with Lucian. He's probably the best of a bad lot, but he's still self-centered to an unpleasant degree, an easy liar who never met a drug he didn't want to take or a girl he didn't want to shag. He tends to over-analysis and philosophy, which veers between genuine existential doubt and self-parody.
But he's the protagonist, because everyone else in this book is even worse. It's like "Trainspotting," but without Ewan McGregor to smile away the squalor.
Still, even though most readers will want to take a shower afterward, "Glass Wall" has something to say. I think what that is will vary from person to person, but for those who like to ponder the big questions of life, it might be worth the journey.
"Primer," written by Jennifer Muro and Thomas Krajewski, art by Gretel Lusky, DC Comics, $13.50.
DC Comics has lots of superheroes, but that hasn't stopped their YA and middle-school graphic novels from inventing new ones. Such is Primer, a 13-year-old girl named Ashley Ryburn who discovers paints that give her a wide variety of super powers when she splashes them on her person.
The paints belong to her new foster parents _ Ashley is in the process of being adopted _ and sets her up to be pursued by everybody who knows about the paints and wants them. I really don't have to tell you how the plot proceeds, as the back of the book says, "Now she has to make hard choices to protect her new parents and learn what it truly means to be a family." I think we can all guess the lesson Ashley learns.
But sometimes it's the journey, not the destination. Ashley is goofy fun _ she's got very little impulse control _ and she gets to roll around in paints. That probably scratches an itch for those of us who loved splashing in mud puddles as kids but aren't allowed to any more.
"Primer" also ends on a cliffhanger, with Ashley meeting her real father _ who's in prison. I suspect there's a "Primer II" on the horizon, which isn't at all a bad thing.
