Marbles: Mania, Depression, Michelangelo, and Me
Ellen Forney. Gotham, $20 trade paper (256p) ISBN 978-1-59240-732-3

Eisner nominee Forney confesses her struggles with being diagnosed as bipolar in this witty and insightful memoir. Beginning with the manic episode that led to her diagnosis, Forney chronicles her journey toward reconciling the dual natures of bipolar disorder: a dangerous disease, but also a source of inspiration for many artists. The long journey of medication and therapy is kept from gloom by Forney’s lively, likable cartooning. Alternating among her cartoonish panels, realistic illustrations, and photographs of the sketch pad she kept as part of her therapy, Forney allows her art to chronicle her outer life while revealing her inner state of mind. Her personal journey provides a core story that examines her mood disorders and their connection to creativity for the many “crazy artists” she imagines as part of “Club van Gogh.” Readers struggling with their own mania or depression will find Forney good company, and others searching for insight into the minds of troubled artists will find Forney an engaging storyteller. (Nov.)

The 50th Law
50 Cent, Robert Greene, and Dave Crosland. SmarterComics (www.smartercomics.com), $14.95 (80p) ISBN 978-1-61082-006-6

This combination of graphic memoir, self-help manual, and merchandising adapts the 2009 prose edition of the same title for younger readers, featuring artwork by Crosland that captures a bracing urban energy. The bio of 50 Cent in the book’s back matter reads, in part, “He began drug dealing at the age of twelve, which gave him the need to become fearless in order to attain success and power on the streets and, later, in the recording industry.” This extraordinary mixed message animates the morally confused story of 50 Cent’s rise to fame. “Fifty” is portrayed as an ambitious kid who started dealing drugs early as a way to subvert the limited opportunities of his oppressive urban environment. After a stint in jail, he transitions to a music career, using his “hustler’s eye” and an entrepreneurial approach to gain advantage in unfamiliar territory. The book adapts ideas from Greene’s earlier bestseller, The 48 Laws of Power, which reduced the writings of Machiavelli and Sun Tzu to sound bite–sized corporate jargon. In this version, younger readers are encouraged to “Create Little Empires” and “Move Higher Up the Food Chain.” Despite some positive, constructive points, it’s hard to get past the uncritical portrayal of Fifty’s drug dealing and its gleaming silver lining. (Oct.)

Get Jiro!
Anthony Bourdain, Joel Rose, and Langdon Foss. DC/Vertigo, $24.99 (160p) ISBN 978-1-401228-27-9

Chef Jiro wants nothing more than to serve traditionally crafted sushi to humble and respectful diners. But his extraordinary skills eventually attract the wrong kind of attention when the heads of two cutthroat rival food empires, one that embodies the epicurean ideal and the other obsessed with all things local and homegrown, begin to vie for his services. What’s an ex-yakuza enforcer turned sushi chef to do, ask culinary expert and author Bourdain (Medium Raw) and co-writer Joel Rose (La Pacifica) in this boisterous lampooning of food culture, a pet project for Bourdain, who seems to revel in the unrestrained narrative allowed in a comic book. Their answer will be enjoyable to anyone versed in samurai revenge stories or the films of Sam Peckinpah, but may turn off readers looking for a less bloody and derivative outcome. The book’s saving grace is the wonderfully clean and detailed art by an all-star team of artists led by illustrator Foss, whose meticulously researched and composed visuals mirror Jiro’s precision with a knife and produce equally appetizing results. (July)

Blacksad: A Silent Hell
Juan Diaz Canales and Juanjo Guarnido. Dark Horse, $19.99 (96p) ISBN 978-1-59582-931-3

If Walt Disney ever made an adult-themed, anthropomorphic Philip Marlowe movie, it might resemble this popular series. In this fourth outing for the titular feline detective, Blacksad is enlisted to locate a missing, drug-addicted blues musician in 1950s New Orleans. He uncovers an old conspiracy involving a poisonous “miracle medicine” and its effect on the musical legacy of the Big Easy; the story parallels the history of drug abuse among great American blues and jazz musicians. Canales’s plot is populated by a colorful mixture of Americana: burlesque houses, snake-oil merchants, Mardi Gras, and the haunted soul of the blues are all key elements in this vibrant, atmospheric noir mystery. The authentic local details of Guarnido’s art are balanced by whimsical character design and humor reminiscent of early Disney animation. The volume also contains a lengthy “behind the scenes” feature in which the creators present early watercolor roughs of the story paired with text describing their process and the particular challenges—both narrative and visual—posed by this story. Informed by deep reading of genre fiction and American cultural history, it’s another hit for Blacksad. (July)

Fallen Words

Yoshihiro Tatsumi. Drawn & Quarterly, $19.95 (288p) ISBN 978-1-77046-074-4

With each of the eight short stories in Fallen Words, Tatsumi (A Drifting Life, Abandon the Old in Tokyo) shows us the innovation and insight that make him one of the most relevant figures in Japanese comics today. In this work he draws upon the storytelling tradition of rakugo—in which a live storyteller recounts both sides of a conversation—and provides a series of cautionary tales about day-to-day hopes, fears, and petty excesses. What makes these moral fables so enjoyable to read is the humor that the author brings to them; readers can relate to his characters, sympathize with them, and enjoy a chuckle or two as Tatsumi exposes their delightful fallibility. He also elicits a smile in the way he brings about the resolutions to his fables, whether through a quirk of fate (in “The God of Death”) or through a humorous linguistic association (in “Escape of the Sparrows”). As the artist who coined the term gekiga (“dramatic pictures”), but was nonetheless influenced by mainstream manga, Tatsumi’s flat yet expressive drawings always move these short narratives forward without ever feeling unnecessarily distracted by the visual—the results flow as naturally as a rakugo tale. (June)

Heart

Blair Butler and Kevin Mellon. Image (Diamond, dist.), $12.99 (120p) ISBN 978-1-60706-578-4

It’s easy to look at a sport like MMA and find little with which to identify, either in terms of what happens in the octagon or what motivates someone to step into it. Heart makes the entire sport very easy to sympathize with. Butler, best known as a host on the G4 network, follows the story of Oren “Rooster” Redmond, who is looking for more than what his desk job affords him. With a brother already in the game, Oren trades in watching the sport for an opportunity of self-exploration to find out exactly what he’s made of—and what he discovers about himself makes for a story that is, at its heart, eminently human. This is not the standard montage to victory story of the sort that might make for a Hollywood film. Rather, it’s a story about real people, and about the idea that the pursuit of a dream is ultimately of greater value than its realization. In his illustrations, Mellon (Lovestruck, Gearhead) is appropriately understated and unassuming, but also brutal just when he needs to be. What happens in the octagon is, after all, anything but glamorous, especially for those who fight there. Together, Butler’s writing and Mellon’s illustrations take us on a journey into the day-to-day realities of a subculture that fans of the sport will enjoy while even nonexperts will enjoy a story that is filled with genuine emotion. (July)

Batman and Robin, Vol. 1: Born to Kill

Peter J. Tomasi, Patrick Gleason, and Mick Gray. DC, $24.99 (192p) ISBN 978-1-4012-3487-4

Violently compelling, this story arc shows the master crime fighter learning to be a father. Damian Wayne, the latest Robin, spent the first 10 years of his life being trained as an assassin, so he doesn’t understand Batman’s refusal to kill the criminals he defeats. As Batman struggles to communicate his rigid code of morality to the boy, Robin seems exasperatingly aloof. Unfortunately, a menace from Bruce Wayne’s past arrives at this point. He calls himself Nobody, he has no patience with ostentatious do-gooders, and he simply erases the villains he encounters. He is, in short, a dangerously appealing father figure for Batman’s alienated son. Tomasi’s script—following up on elements created by Grant Morrison in his Batman run—ably interweaves conflict at physical, personal, and even moral levels. The art by Gleason and Gray (with spectacular coloring by John Kalisz) is explosively dramatic. A superior episode in a fascinating saga. (July)

But I Really Wanted to Be an Anthropologist

Margaux Motin. Self Made Hero, $24.95 (176p) ISBN 978-1-90683-846-1

French blogger and illustrator Motin makes her English-language debut in this funny and fresh translation of her first graphic novel. Originally published in France in 2009, the book collects largely stand-alone cartoons in the style of Motin’s blog. Fashion-obsessed, self-employed artist Motin is the mother of a toddler (“the tyrant”), has a tense relationship with her mother, and is married to a man who provides equal opportunities to be the butt of the joke—and to turn the joke back around on Motin. The humor translates brilliantly because her self-mockery is in exactly the right tone to make readers rejoice in her small victories. Several of the anecdotes are also reminiscent of comedies where adults who have responsibilities sometimes still act like they did when they were in college, with funny and revealing results. Motin’s cartoonish illustrations and her use of color for effect rather than realism create a whimsical tone and bolster her already comedic antics. A great choice for a beach read—or a guilty pleasure. (June)

The Loxleys and the War of 1812

Alan Grant and Clause St. Aubin. Renegade Press (www.renegadeartsentertainment.com), $19.99 (176p) ISBN 978-0-9868200-0-7

2012 marks the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812, a conflict little remembered in America and Britain, but one that irrevocably set the Canadian colonies on the path to Dominion. A young Union, believing the British to be distracted by the war with Napoleon, outraged at British provocations related to that war, and under the misapprehension the Canadians might welcome liberation from the British, declared war against Britain on June 18, 1812. This work uses the Loxley family—United Empire Loyalists originally from the American colonies who were forced to flee to Canada thanks to the American Revolution—to provide a settler’s-eye view of the conflict, from rumors of war to the brutal reprisals both sides indulged in and the final peace. The art by St. Aubin is clean and skilled, but the script by Grant (best known as a writer on Judge Dredd) often veers into parodic extremism, even taking into account the clear imperialist villainy of the Americans. What could have been a glorious illustration of a defining moment in Canadian history sadly falls short. (June)

Battlepug, Vol. 1

Mike Norton. Dark Horse, $14.99 (72p) ISBN 978-1-59582-972-6

The sword and sorcery genre is ever ripe for lampooning, and this series’ first volume gets straight to the job of giving its tropes the business. Long ago and far away, the tastefully nude Molly entertains her talking pooches, Mingo and Colfax, with the epic adventures of a nameless barbarian hero who rides an enormous, goofy pug dog. Her narrative trots out such clichés as the warrior witnessing his people destroyed by a horrific force while he’s still a child (in this case the destroyer being a Godzilla-sized and very cute harp seal), the hero’s mighty frame and fighting skills forged through years of slave labor and gladiatorial combat, an insane companion who may know more than he’s letting on, and of course gigantic ensorcelled reptiles, all of which is presented with tongue firmly in cheek yet played utterly straight. As for the story’s art, it strikes a perfect balance between straight barbarian comics imagery—the protagonist bears more than a passing resemblance to John Buscema’s interpretation of Conan—and animation-influenced humor, in other words, the perfect visual approach for a charming and very amusing buff-dude-with-a-sword sendup. This is fun stuff. (July)

Building Stories

Chris Ware. Pantheon, $49.99 (260p) ISBN 978-0-375-42433-5

Ware provides one of the year’s best arguments for the survival of print. In more than 200 pages spread over 14 separate printed works that include broadsheets, booklets, and full-sized books, Ware tells the visually stunning story of a nameless woman as she lives a quiet, frustrated life in Chicago. Ware gives voice not only to his nameless heroine but to the people who pass through and fill her life, peering in on the dysfunctional couple that lives below her, the wistful memories of the woman’s ancient landlady, the old and crumbling building she lives in, and even the comedic blunderings of a bee named Branford, bringing together stories filled with grief, doubt, and self-loathing. Ware’s paper archipelago can be read in any order, making his heroine’s progression from single apartment life to dissatisfied motherhood in Oak Park, all the more personal, as if the reader is leafing through her memories, rather than following her linear story. Ware’s artwork consistently overshadows his creation’s anxieties, her frets and worries made even smaller and pettier by Ware’s intricate and expansive art. But the spectacular, breathtaking visual splendor make this one of the year’s standout graphic novels. (Sept.)

Green Arrow, Vol. 1: The Midas Touch

Dan Jurgens, J.T. Krul, Keith Giffen, and George Pérez. DC, $14.99 trade paper (144p) ISBN 978-1-4012-3486-7

Oliver Queen is the head of a multimillion-dollar technology corporation who secretly moonlights as a street-level crime fighter aided by a few trusted allies and an array of gadgets. Sound familiar? As part of its New 52 relaunch last year, DC Comics introduces a younger, grittier Green Arrow that ends up feeling more like “Batman-lite” than the Robin Hood–inspired derring-do whose weapon of choice was an arrow with a boxing glove at the end of it. In the first story, writer Krul showcases a more contemporary approach to the character, yet his attempts to update Green Arrow for the 21st century—like giving him a “Q-Pad” and Internet famous supervillains powered by designer drugs—come off contrived or only partially explored. The second story, written by Giffen, pits the Emerald Archer against a gun-wielding robotic ninja and her lovelorn brute made of decomposing waste, with little reasoning behind the fight other than the hero protecting his painfully obvious alter ego. The new Green Arrow does little to distinguish itself from all the other masked vigilantes despite the presence of veteran artists Dan Jurgens and George Pérez, whose work is merely satisfactory. (June)

Journalism

Joe Sacco. Metropolitan, $29 (208p) ISBN 978-0-8050-9486-2

This volume of Sacco’s shorter pieces makes an outstanding companion to his acclaimed book-length works, which include Safe Area Gorazde and Footnotes in Gaza. In a short preface titled “A Manifesto, Anyone?” Sacco succinctly lays out his goals and predispositions with regard to his medium, both embracing and answering the hackneyed criticisms that crop up whenever someone is alarmed by the concept of cartoon journalism. It’s hard to take issue with Sacco’s ethics or politics, which are far from concealed or misleading; he goes so far as to draw himself into many of his stories—not out of egocentricity, but to make clear how he foundthe story and the circumstances under which he gained information. The stories in this volume run from 1998 to 2011. Whether traveling to Hebron, Iraq, India, or his native Malta, Sacco’s great strength is in digging up dramatic individual stories that are illustrative of larger social or political problems. Although hints of the work of Will Elder, R. Crumb, and Art Spiegelman can be found in Sacco’s appealing black-and-white art, the sum effect is his highly recognizable own. The book is a powerful record of voices that would have otherwise gone largely unheard. (June)

The Sacrifice

Bruce Mutard. Trafalgar Sq., $24.95 trade paper (256p) ISBN 978-1-74175-117-8

The first of three planned volumes, this heavy (in both size and content) graphic novel explores the Australian experience during WWII. It’s slow going and talky, as various characters converse about world events beginning in 1939, impending war, and continuing economic struggles. The lead, Robert Wells, has a management job and a bent to pacifism. He’s left the Catholic Church although he still believes in God. He’s fascinated by the talented voice of the daughter of German refugee neighbors, although put off by the way she’s been indoctrinated with ideas about the superiority of her type. His brother joins the military; his girlfriend supports communism; the young girl runs wanton during the war. They all debate capitalism, restrictive government policies, the economy, ethics, and religion. A glossary would have been appreciated for non-Aussie readers not familiar with the slang, cultural terms, and local leaders of the time, although much can be determined by context. The art is historically evocative heavy, but sometimes stiff. The story reads as though looking at a series of old photographs, an intriguing personal glimpse of history that rewards those who are willing to learn more of the Australian experience, but probably without mass appeal outside its native land. (July)

Not the Israel My Parents Promised Me

Harvey Pekar and JT Waldman. FSG/. Hill and Wang, $24.95 (176p) ISBN 978-0-8090-9482-0

Instead of the single-minded polemic that the title promises, this posthumous work by Pekar functions as a multipronged exploration of religious, political, and personal histories and is all the richer for it. Pekar structures his narrative as a long-running bull session with his collaborator, artist Waldman (Megillat Esther), as they amble around Pekar’s hometown of Cleveland. While walking through a cavernous used bookstore or grabbing food at an Italian grocery, they explore his parents’ very passionate but unusual Zionism (Pekar’s mother was a stridently nonworshipping Marxist while his father was highly religious), the history of the Jewish people and the creation of the state of Israel, and Pekar’s own evolving feelings about that country. Starting off as an unalloyed champion of the new Jewish homeland (he was a schoolboy during the War of Independence and grew up along with the young country), Pekar later becomes troubled by the growth of religious fundamentalism in Israel, West Bank settlements, and what he saw as destructive military policies. A sweet and simple epilogue by Pekar’s widow, Joyce Brabner, provides the perfect capstone, noting how she planned a funeral that was properly Jewish and yet appropriately nonreligious. (July)