Ben Towle's Midnight Sun was one of my favorite graphic novels this year. A fictionalized account of the very real search for the lost dirigible Italia in Arctic in 1928, it introduces several characters to show not only the plight of the lost men, but also those looking for them, The black and white drawings and spare and direct and the story is surprisingly gripping. Knowing more than a bit about what really happened to this ship, I was very impressed by how Ben put this book together. From the Blogcritics review: "Midnight Sun isn’t a bombastic graphic novel—in fact, I’d liken it more to a cinema verite than a graphic novel. In the confines of a 6.5”X5.5” format and a mere 136 pages, Ben Towle has managed to bring a historical environ to life. His ear for dialogue and his eye for little details make Midnight Sun a rare treat not only for comics fans, but a remarkable little piece of storytelling."
It's great and comes highly recommended. Ben was kind enough to write up this post to let us know what books he has enjoyed this year.
I read a fair amount of material--both prose and graphic novels--each year, much of which I either give away, lend to people or sell to a used book store when I'm done with it, so the list here isn't necessarily a "best of" list drawn from everything I read in 2008; it's more a list of things that were still handy on my shelves when I undertook this list. That said, these are certainly some--but not all--of the best books I read in the past year:
Bill Mauldin: A Life Up Front by Todd DePastino / Schulz and Peanuts by David Michaelis
These two cartoonists' biographies make a nice point/counterpoint of biographical writing philosophy. Michaelis's controversial book took the "thesis" route: positing Schulz as an emotionally distant stoic who could neither love nor truly be loved--and attempted to back that up via not just anecdotal evidence from the cartoonist's life but also the Peanuts strips themselves. It's an exhaustive look at an important figure not just in cartooning, but in twentieth century popular culture in general, but as its many critics--including Schulz family members--have suggested, it's a lopsided portrait of a far more complex character.
DePlastino's portrait of Bill Maudlin, creator of WWII's Willie and Joe, however, takes a hands-off approach and, aside from a brief framing incident at the beginning of the book, lets the events of Mauldin's life unfold in chronological order and with minimal armchair psychoanalysis. As the title, "A Life Up Front," suggests, no garnishing is needed to spice up Mauldin's life. From his hard-scrabble upbringing in the twenties, to years spent in various battle zones in World War II, Mauldin's story is riveting on its own.
Monsters by Ken Dahl: I'm not sure which of Ken Dahl's three self-published issues of Monsters I read in 2008, but issue three for sure--and likely two as well. Dahl's a fantastic cartoonist hailing from Vermont's Center for Cartoon Studies and this series is, I believe, his first long-form story. It's about herpes--as the cover of issue three says, it's "the happy funtime comic book about herpes." The story's setup is simple--two lovers discover that one of them has herpes--but its execution, both the writing and the cartooning, is nuanced and complex. Dahl's writing grabs you from the first line ("Imagine never kissing anyone on the lips ever again") and he's not afraid to really make use of comics' visual vocabulary, as in issue three where the protagonist, who's forsaken sex, sits on a park bench and literally turns into a rabid beast as the sight of passing women drive him insane. The complete series will be collected as a graphic novel next year, but if you pick up the individual issues now you'll get to enjoy each book's beautiful hand silk-screened cover.
The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski: Unless you've been living in a cave for the last year or so, there's not a whole lot new I'm going to be able to tell you about this book. While it couldn't live up to 100% of the hype surrounding it, (what could have?) David Wroblewski has put together an well-written but eminently readable iconic American family saga--and a hell of a debut novel from a heretofore unknown writer. Much has been made of the book's Hamlet-based narrative underpinnings, but it's the author's more subtle decisions that really grabbed me. There's a truly stunning scene, for example, towards the middle of the book where Wroblewski shifts from third person to second person as the story's protagonist and antagonist finally see eye to eye literally and figuratively--and then never does so again. I'm hoping it won't take another ten years for a followup novel.
Crogan's Vengeance by Chris Schweizer:
Speaking of debuts, I really loved this fantastic all-ages debut graphic novel from cartoonist Chris Schweizer. Crogan's Vengeance is the first of what's slated be a total of sixteen books chronicling the adventures of fathers and sons from various generations of the fictional Crogan family. This first book tells how "Catfoot" Crogan, an honest sailor in the early 1700s, joins a group of pirates and eventually comes head to head with the nefarious D'or, terror of the Spanish Main. Crogan's Vengeance has all the ingredients of solid all-ages comics: interesting characters, solid iconic cartooning and a story that's fun and accessible without being patronizing. And also lots of sword-fighting!
Acme Novelty Library #19 by Chris Ware - This sounds like a crazy thing to say, but: Chris Ware doesn't get enough attention. He's a bit like Jamie Hernandez in that he so consistently produces excellent work that the only way something new of his would really generate a big splash is if it somehow wasn't spectacular. His recent Rusty Brown/Chalky White saga (which began in Acme 16) is the best thing he's done to-date, and this issue is the best of that. His emotional range continues to expand (although admittedly still tending toward the dour) and his characters are getting richer and more complex with each installment.
Capacity by Theo Ellsworth - Just when I've cynically decided that the whole "graphic novels" bit has been hopelessly overrun by huge publishers looking to cash in on the next hip thing with the umpteen-millionth graphic novel memoir about disease/identity politics, etc., I find something like Theo Ellsworth's Capacity to renew my faith in the art form. The book--a collection of Ellsworth's minicomics of the same name, with a ton of material added in, mostly as a framing story throughout--is part memoir, part dream journal, part exploration of the creative process. It's beautifully drawn in a hyper-detailed, almost etching-like style that's a bit reminiscent of Thai art in places. The author's writing about his own creative pursuits is insightful and analytical without being stuffy or self-important; in fact, it's often quite funny. While I suspect that the similarly-themed What It Is by Lynda Barry will garnish more of the limelight than Capacity will, this book seems somehow more intimate.
The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson - This book came out in '03 I think, but I just happened upon it this year, courtesy of a box of hand-me-down books acquired at a recent family vacation. I love a well-written historical tale, it it doesn't really get any better than this. The Devil in the White City tells two parallel stories: first, that of the World's Columbian Exposition, held in Chicago in 1893; secondly, that of H.H. Holmes, one of this country's first serial killers. The book's most notable feature writing-wise is how the author has crafted a work that's definitively non-fiction (virtually every assertion in the body of the book is backed up with extensive research, as evidenced in the extensive end notes section) but which reads in a novelistic style.
