Anya's Ghost
Vera Brosgol. Roaring Brook/First Second, $15 trade paper (222p) ISBN 978-1-59643-552-0
Anya Borzakovskaya is one frustrated, grouchy teenager. She's embarrassed by her Russian-émigré mom; her little brother drives her bats; she doesn't fit in at school; she can't get the boy she likes to notice her; and her only weapons are her sharp tongue and perpetual sneer. Then she falls down a well and makes a friend: the very lonely ghost of a girl named Emily, who died there a hundred years before and can't leave her bones. Anya's the only one who can see Emily, of course, but Emily's excited enough to be out in the world again (via a tiny bone Anya carries around with her) that she offers to help her new pal out in all sorts of poltergeisty ways; Anya, in return, resolves to try to solve the mystery of Emily's murder. Brosgol's debut graphic novel--taut, witty, and breezily paced--seems to be heading in a very familiar direction, and then, abruptly, veers off toward a completely different and much more clever third act. Brosgol's two-toned purple-and-black images have a bold, cartoony flair, underscoring her knack for comic timing and pacing, and making nearly every stance and facial expression her characters adopt at least a little bit funny. (June)
Aaron and Ahmed: A Love Story
Jay Cantor, James Romberger and José Villarrubia. DC/Vertigo, $24.99 (144p) ISBN 978-1-4012-1186-8
The war on terror is transmuted into a quasi-mystical odyssey in this hardheaded, thoughtful collaboration between novelist Cantor (Krazy Kat) and artist Romberger (Seven Miles a Second). Narrator Aaron Goodman is a therapist who lost his wife on 9/11, and in trying to avenge her death, ends up dispiritedly helping to torture Guantánamo detainees. There, in a place of brutal and randomly improvised experimental interrogations, he connects with one thoughtful prisoner, Ahmed, ultimately hatching an undercover scheme that will take the two of them back to Pakistan. Cantor's tragic narrator becomes subsumed in self-doubt once he's in Ahmed's hands, worrying if he's being played for a sucker even while his fate and heart become inextricably intertwined with Ahmed's. The narrative spins off down a line of historical and philosophical inquiry about words and beliefs as dangerous viruses that evokes everything from The Manchurian Candidate to the novels of Neal Stephenson. While the story is, on the surface, a dramatic piece of post-9/11 paranoia and espionage game playing (Cantor's vibrantly dark text delivering more potently than Romberger's jagged, somewhat generic art), it turns into a brave, occasionally frightening investigation of the very nature of belief. (Apr.)
The Sky over the Louvre
Bernard Yslaire and Jean-Claude Carriere. NBM/ComicsLit (www.nbmpub.com), $19.99 (72p) ISBN 978-1-56163-602-0
Creating an effective graphic novel about classic art is no simple task, requiring a writer capable of conveying the drama of the artistic process, and an artist up to the challenge of producing images that do justice to the subject matter. Fortunately, Yslaire and Carriere have both. Set during the Reign of Terror in the French Revolution, Louvre relates the story of revolutionary leader Maximilien Robespierre's relationship with the genius neoclassical painter Jacques-Louis David. The book is ostensibly about the history of the Louvre museum; however, the narrative mostly attends to David's creative struggles for the new republic, with particular emphasis on his work The Death of Bara. While Carriere's story examines Robespierre's Deist philosophy well, it does not provide much context for readers unfamiliar with the period and its major players. Luckily, Yslaire's rich artwork complements the story flawlessly, with a generous number of classical painting reprints and expressive portraits to convey the art of the era. With its esoteric subject matter and liberal use of male nudity, Louvre is not aimed at the typical graphic novel fan, but will reward those who seek it out. (Apr.)
