The Best Comics of the Decade #20-1

20. THE FILTH/SEAGUY
by Grant Morrison, Chris Weston
& Gary Erskine, 2002-2003
by Grant Morrison & Cameron
Stewart, 2004

The Filth is the perfect expression of
Grant Morrison's paranoid, conspiratorial view of the way the world
works. It condenses, in its relatively compact twelve issues, the thrust
of Morrison's sprawling series The Invisibles. It returns to
familiar territory — the malevolent forces controlling the world, the
suppression of individuality, the power of sexuality and transgression
to overcome such oppression — and does so with Morrison's characteristic
blunt humor and restless imagination. Because of its limited miniseries
length and the sheer variety of ideas and images it encompasses, it is
perhaps Morrison's densest and most tightly packed work. It is raw,
undiluted Morrison, leaking wild ideas and constantly setting off on
loony digressions and detours. It's about the Hand, a secret agency
dedicated to maintaining the status quo by destroying anything that
threatens to introduce new, destabilizing elements into the balance of
world power, or new ideas into the popular discourse. The book posits a
whole behind-the-scenes network dedicated to keeping the reins on sexual
and scientific knowledge, even as perversity and mad science rage
through the corridors of power. The art of Chris Weston (with inker Gary
Erskine) lends a gritty plausibility even to Morrison's most out-there
visions, and the book especially benefits from its unified creative
team, since uneven artwork has often plagued the writer's longer
projects.

The even more compact three-issue miniseries Seaguy
offers up a similar, subtly disturbing nightmare vision of
authoritarian control and conformity. On its surface, Seaguy
looks and feels like a goofy superhero/adventure parody, with the clean,
cartoony art of Cameron Stewart and some of Morrison's most pulpy,
poppy dialogue. But as Morrison pulls back the layers of Seaguy's
brightly colored, seemingly idyllic world, darker subtexts begin
creeping in. Seaguy is a third-string superhero in a world that doesn't
need heroes anymore, because the populace is uniformly happy and sedate,
convinced by mass media marketing to be docile worker drones for the
government and its corporate allies. Seaguy and his faithful fish pal
Chubby stumble into a massive conspiracy centering around a new sentient
foodstuff called Xoo, Egyptian structures on the moon, the clockwork
wasps from the lost city of Atlantis, and sinister entertainment/Big
Brother icon Mickey Eye. In other words, it's a typically imaginative
work from Morrison, who tosses off inspired ideas left and right as his
hapless hero has his eyes opened to the mysterious forces that control
the world, only to realize that he didn't really want to know about any
of this stuff in the first place.

19. THE BLOT
by Tom
Neely, 2007

Tom Neely's self-published long-form debut, after
a string of minicomics and shorter pieces, is a real shocker, coming
out of nowhere to introduce a wholly new and exciting sensibility. His
cartoony characters and obtuse symbolism add up to a difficult work,
slippery in its meanings and intent, that is nevertheless impossible to
look away from. With few words and very little narrative, Neely traces
the experiences of a cartoon everyman, with a bulbous, rounded head,
comically big feet and Mickey Mouse-style gloves, as he is consumed and
pursued by an amorphous black inkblot that sometimes appears as small
splotches within his white world, and sometimes threatens to flow across
the page, consuming everything in its path. Neely presents various
encounters between the man, the blot and a woman who sometimes seems to
be helping him and sometimes seems fixed on his destruction. The book
deals with conformity, creativity, love and humiliation, all through
these enigmatic, nearly silent strips where the blot's seeming meaning
and purpose fluidly changes depending on context.

18.
FINDER: DREAM SEQUENCE
by Carla Speed McNeil, 2003

Carla Speed McNeil's Finder is one of
the great self-published niche series in comics. Billed as "aboriginal
sci-fi," her work involves a richly detailed and complex fantasy world,
populated with mythic creatures and humans coexisting within isolated
and crumbling domed cities. Her style is utterly distinctive and fresh,
with a slight sketchiness that belies the precision of her line and her
compositions. She experiments restlessly with page design, and
frequently comes up with innovative ways of depicting the unconventional
concepts at the core of her work. Her artwork has also improved
massively over the years; compare the early, scratchy Sin Eater
to the sumptuousness of Dream Sequence, her best book so far,
and the difference is obvious. McNeil has matured into one of modern
comics' most overlooked stylists. Her expressive line delineates
instantly recognizable characters who weave in and out of her storiesin
unexpected ways. In Dream Sequence, her usual hero, the rugged
wanderer Jaeger, steps out of the center, though he does crop up in the
form of various doppelgangers and avatars. Instead, this dense,
beautiful work tells the story of a man whose imagination is so powerful
that he houses an entire elaborate, three-dimensional world inside his
mind, allowing other people to plug in and experience this place like
characters in a video game. On one level, McNeil's story is a sci-fi
horror piece about a monster set loose within this imaginary Eden, but
these genre touches only serve to accentuate the themes and emotions at
the story's core: imagination versus reality, creativity, the perils of
connecting and forming relationships with other people. This book boasts
some of McNeil's most startling and gorgeous imagery, married to one of
her best stories. And since her Finder books really have no
set order, instead linking together in more oblique, non-linear ways,
it's even a good introduction to her work or a standalone read in
itself.

17. NINJA
by Brian
Chippendale, 2006

It's often been said of Lightning Bolt drummer
Brian Chippendale that he draws like he drums: fast and finicky, filling
every inch of available space with the sheer overwhelming density of
his creativity. Whether he's pounding on his skins or scratching out
dense worlds in ink, Chippendale is a nearly terrifying force. Ninja
is the culmination of his work in comics thus far, a massive volume in
which the artist picks up where he left off with the crude ninja stories
he drew as a young boy — actually included here as the first section of
the book — by expanding this ninja's adventures into a grand epic about
community and corporate greed. Like many of the artists associated with
the loosely defined Fort Thunder scene, Chippendale is fascinated by
world-building, by creating whole alternate societies with complex
histories and tangled character relationships. This kind of stuff is
merely suggested in the sprawling, elliptical Ninja, in which
each oversized page is a new "episode" and often follows an entirely new
character or set of characters. There's a lot going on here, both in
terms of the twisty, tough-to-follow narrative and the dense texture of
Chippendale's drawings. The book's all about corporate forces taking
over a small town and transforming it; Chippendale, who with the rest of
Fort Thunder often lived the lifestyle of a squatters' commune, is very
sensitive to the issues involved in gentrification, in forming
tight-knit local communities, and in the ways people can be broken apart
by powerful outside forces. Ninja is often just a fun, funny
action book, and sometimes verges into near-abstract flights of fancy,
but it's also politically engaged in very deep ways, particularly in one
stunning two-page sequence where Chippendale implicitly compares the
passionate, communicative joys of sex to the anti-human evils of
government-mandated torture.

16. THE LUTE STRING
by
Jim Woodring, 2005

Jim Woodring has long been one of comics' most
fascinating and idiosyncratic artists, mostly working, in recent years,
within the self-contained universe of his Frank comics. The Lute
String, originally published as a standalone book in Japan, is
Woodring's most sustained Frank story of recent years, though Frank
himself (the amorphously anthropomorphic hero of many Woodring sagas) is
only a peripheral figure here. Instead, the focus is on Frank's
friends, Pupshaw and Pushpaw, both of whom somehow look like a fusion
between a puppy and a small cottage. Like all of Woodring's Frank
comics, this one is wordless, and its meaning ambiguous: these stories
are like abstract parables, teaching moral lessons through Woodring's
selfish, curious, mystically oriented characters. In this case, the
moral seems to be: no matter how important, how powerful, you think you
are there's always something greater, always someone or some force
beyond your control. It's about life as a hierarchy stretching up into
some infinite unknowable place. Just as Frank playfully intervenes in
the struggle (or mating rite?) between two miniature insect-like
creatures, and Pupshaw and Pushpaw delight in terrifying a little
morphing hippopotamus, an elephant-like deity eventually intervenes into
their plane of reality, sending the two pups off into a strange,
frightening alternate dimension: our own world. While there, the two
"dogs" wind up mutually scaring and scared by a pair of human children
and a songbird, before they're brought back to their own world, newly
appreciative of its special wonders and pleasures. All of this is
conveyed without words, with Woodring's stylish, detailed imagery and
distinctive wiggly hatching. It's moving, funny, and as with all of
Woodring's work it demands a close reading.

15. ACHEWOOD
by Chris
Onstad, 2001-ongoing

Achewood is one of the greatest,
funniest strips to emerge from the 00s boom in webcomics, as comic strip
creators began turning to the Internet rather than the dwindling
newspaper comic venue. The appeal of Onstad's work is difficult to
explain: there's some kind of strange synergy that occurs from the
intersection of Onstad's character-based humor, absurd surrealism,
minimalist drawing and at times surprising pathos. Achewood
started as a Dadaist gag-a-day strip involving a cast of stuffed animals
(its first
strip literally makes no sense and is somehow funny anyway), and
over the years has developed into something much more complex. For one
thing, Onstad introduced the characters of three talking cats, most
notably the clinically depressive computer programmer Roast Beef and the
self-absorbed entrepreneur Ray Smuckles, two characters who have come
to occupy the strip's emotional and comedic center. Onstad's work over
the years has ranged from surreal "magical realist" arcs, to
comedic/dramatic character-based pieces, to parodies of data flow
charts, to occasional returns to the strip's roots in one-off gags. [read free] |
14. PROMETHEA
by Alan
Moore, J.H. Williams III, Mick Gray et al, 1999-2005

Alan Moore's Promethea, the crown jewel
in his America's Best Comics line, starts with an archetypal superhero
origin story: an ordinary young girl named Sophie Bangs is forced to
take on the mantle of the superheroine/deity Promethea, though she
barely understands what's happening to her. It had the makings of
another of Moore's lighter works, playfully toying with genre and
clichés in the context of a conventionally satisfying narrative.
Instead, Moore pulled the rug out from under reader expectations by
transforming the book into a high-concept primer on his magical beliefs,
a comprehensive illustrated text book on mysticism, magic and
spirituality in all its forms. Over the course of an extended odyssey
through a series of magical realms — where each issue was color-coded
and drawn in a distinct style by the multitalented J.H. Williams III —
Moore's heroine took on the role of Dante's Virgil, as a tour guide
through the realms of the unknown and the unknowable. Along the way, the
journey encompasses the Tarot, magical sexuality and tantra, and the
search for the highest states of being. The book is dense and,
ultimately, apocalyptic, though for Moore even the apocalypse is both
spiritual and necessary, a way of wiping the slate clean and starting
fresh in a new, more enlightened and aware world. Promethea is
beautiful and exhausting in roughly equal measures, adding up to one of
Moore's most challenging and multi-layered works.

13. ALIAS THE CAT
by
Kim Deitch, 2002-2005

Alias the Cat, originally published as
the three-issue miniseries The Stuff of Dreams, is Kim Deitch's
best and most sustained treatment of the themes and characters that
have fascinated him throughout his career. His work, seen as a whole, is
a dense patchwork in which various animators, artists,
imaginary/demonic cats, sexual deviants, psychotics, circus performers,
midgets and collectors intersect and interact in various ways. For
Deitch, the past and the present flow together to tell
multi-generational stories that are utterly absurd and yet acquire a
strange plausibility through Deitch's matter-of-fact way of combining
the real history of art and ephemera with his outrageous tales. In this
latest narrative, his eternal muse/antagonist Waldo the Cat returns as a
plush doll, a malevolent island deity, and the possible inspiration for
a caped crusader who dresses up like a cat. The story features a trip
to Midgetville, the discovery of a hitherto unknown newspaper serial,
and an exposé on the sexual antics of furries. It's funny, goofy,
exciting and far-ranging in its imaginative nonsense accumulations, and
throughout it all Deitch's fond sense of nostalgia for a world that
never quite was lends emotional heft to the story's elaborate twists and
turns.

12. BOTTOMLESS BELLY BUTTON/MOME
SHORT STORIES
by Dash Shaw, 2008-2009

Dash Shaw is an utterly brilliant young
cartoonist who has, in a few short years, advanced from the academic
experiments of his earlier work (like the promising Goddess Head)
into a formalist genius whose skills encompass both a natural gift for
color and a feel for subtle, indirect characterization. Bottomless
Belly Button is a daring, daunting work, a 700+ page tome about a
mildly dysfunctional family; the book captures the particular moment
when the family's parents call together their three grown-up children to
announce their divorce. Shaw applies a barrage of formal techniques and
styles to documenting the disparate reactions of these characters to
the situation, evoking emotions through the sheer force of his drawing
rather than stating them outright. His effects are both nakedly symbolic
and yet somehow supple, like the way he draws the family's youngest son
with the head of a frog, only revealing the meaning of this otherwise
unexplained device in a brief, elegant sequence and then continuing to
use it to reveal the character's essence throughout the rest of the
book.

Shaw's other great body of work during the 2000s, other
than his recently completed and soon-to-be collected online strip Bodyworld,
are the short stories he's written for the MOME anthology.
These stories mostly utilize science fiction tropes and exploit Shaw's
animation cel-inspired color overlays. In each story, color is
intimately connected with form and narrative, so that the meaning of the
story is communicated through the use of color. A recent piece strips
down an episode of the TV show Blind Date by filtering the
figures in a greenish haze, revealing unexpected depths of longing and
sadness in this televised search for love. In "Satellite CMYK," the
title refers to a four-color printing process, and Shaw color-codes four
separate layers of reality in a story about spies attempting to move
between levels in a strictly segregated society; when he integrates all
four colors at last for the final image, it's appropriately stunning.
Similarly, in "Look Forward, First Son of Terra Two," two reality
streams, one running forwards and the other in reverse, intersect, as
Shaw delineates the different timelines with different colors.

11. ALEC/THE FATE OF THE ARTIST
by
Eddie Campbell, 2000-2002/2006

Eddie Campbell's Alec MacGarry is his longtime
autobiographical stand-in, created in the late 70s and subsequently
worked into numerous graphic novels, short strips and comics over the
years. Alec has evolved into a rambling autobiographical opus,
composed from a patchwork of anecdotes, jokes, formalist diversions and
stories about drinking, family life, artistic creation and everything
else that passes through Campbell's witty, tirelessly active mind. The
entirety of Campbell's Alec comics, recently collected into a
massive tome (which includes several long-form stories, and parts of
stories, written and assembled during the 00s) represents one of the
great sustained efforts at autobiography, since Campbell's mix of
in-the-moment diaristic scribblings and retrospective analysis lend
themselves to a multi-faceted view of a life in all its complexity and
contradictions. Campbell's sharp sense of humor and observation are also
evident in the standalone volume The Fate of the Artist, which
is closely related to his Alec MacGarry stories even if the protagonist
isn't named as such. It's one of Campbell's most formally ambitious
books, an imaginative look at the disappearance of an artist (namely
Campbell himself) using a dazzling variety of formal techniques and
styles. Campbell incorporates mock comic strips, fumetti (starring his
own real-life daughter cracking wise about dear old dad), and numerous
metafictional diversions, but the star of the show is the way he
combines his familiar scratchy style with a gorgeous but equally
ephemeral use of watery, hazy colors.

10. MARY-LAND
by Mary
Fleener, 2002-ongoing

Mary Fleener was an important part of the
alternative comics scene of the 90s, publishing her series Slutburger
and contributing to numerous anthologies. She was never the most famous
name, but she was one of the best, with a distinctive Cubism-influenced
style and a warm, slightly naughty sense of humor. One could be
forgiven for thinking she has since forsaken comics, though in fact
she's been steadily producing work throughout the 00s, mostly outside of
the normal indie comics channels. Since 2002, she's been publishing her
comic strip Mary-Land in the Surf City Times
newspaper in her hometown of Encinitas, California. These strips
represent an amazing body of work, marrying Fleener's distinctive style
and sensibility to content that is provincial, local and domestic. She
ruminates on mailbox art, on surfing, on local issues like the fight to
preserve public parks, on bicycles, pets, garden pests, and more. Her
work in these strips is almost always tied to the specific place she's
writing about and the audience she's writing for. It is rare these days,
outside of the generic "humor" of newspaper comics, to find comics
written, not for a niche audience of comics fans, but for a general
audience interested in a wide variety of issues and ideas. Fleener's
work nods back to a time when comics weren't confined to a small core
audience but were broadcast far and wide to everyone; within her
particular geographic area, Fleener's comics aspire to that same
generality, that intimate engagement with the everyday world. These
comics are refreshingly direct and accessible without ever forsaking the
stylistic adventurousness of Fleener's best work. They represent one of
our finest cartoonists continuing to work outside of the usual formats
and audiences, and producing some of her best, richest work in the
process, mostly out of public view for those not living in Encinitas.
Fortunately, for the rest of us she's collected a generous sampling of
this work in two volumes, available from her website.

9.
X-FORCE/X-STATIX
by Peter Milligan & Mike Allred,
2001-2004

There is perhaps no less likely place to find a
great comic than under the banner of X-Force, traditionally the
trashiest and stupidest title in Marvel's vast, incestuous X-universe;
no mean feat, that. Maybe it was this very disposability, this lack of
importance, that allowed writer Peter Milligan, in collaboration with
Mike Allred of Madman, to completely re-envision the title,
unceremoniously discarding all the familiar characters and crafting a
new team, and a new aesthetic, from scratch. This new X-Force
is a corporately sponsored superhero team who seem to exist mainly for
the purpose of exploiting media and marketing possibilities, though they
also have an alarmingly high mortality rate. In fact, in the very first
issue of the Milligan/Allred series, the pair introduced a whole team
of new heroes, developing their pasts, their powers, their personal
issues... only to kill off all but two of them by the last page,
including the character who had been primed to be the book's central
hero. This destabilizing gesture established the groundwork for what was
to come: superhero soap opera wrapped up in media critiques,
off-the-wall satire, plenty of blood-and-guts action, and an irreverent
approach to the storytelling rulebook. Allred's clean, expressive art,
honed by his years of drawing Madman, is at its best here,
especially in the infamous and boldly experimental silent issue,
starring the group's green, blobby mainstay Doop. The Milligan/Allred X-Force
— which eventually rebooted as X-Statix to reflect its
distance from the conventional X-universe — is a masterpiece of
superhero satire that, eventually, reached its absurdist peak in a
battle of finger flicks between a butt-naked Iron Man and equally
stripped-down X-Statix leader Mr. Sensitive. It doesn't get any better,
or sillier, than that.

8. ACME NOVELTY LIBRARY #18-19
by
Chris Ware, 2007-2008

There are few artists who have had as great an
impact on modern comics as Chris Ware, whose name is virtually
synonymous with the popular explosion of the "graphic novel" in recent
years, thanks in large part to his lengthy Jimmy Corrigan tome.
He is a formal genius of the first order, doing things with page
layouts and the incorporation of text that place him at the forefront of
formal experimentation within comics. In recent years, he's split his
talent mostly between two new ongoing stories, Rusty Brown and Building
Stories. The former promises to be another Jimmy Corrigan-esque
time-spanning epic of losers and jerks, and in the nineteenth issue of
his ongoing Acme Novelty Library, Ware continued Rusty's story
in an unusual way, by weaving back and forth between "reality" and a
fictional sci-fi story supposedly written by one of his characters. The
flow between these two layers of reality is startlingly complex, in ways
that may not be apparent at first blush: key details in the sci-fi
story that might be initially puzzling are later revealed to have
psychologically telling connections with the writer's own life. One
particular throwaway detail even seems like an innocuous printing
mistake at first, until Ware slowly unfolds an explanation that makes
this small touch devastating.

Ware's other major post-Corrigan
project is Building Stories, which has mostly been published
as a series of Sunday-style single pages or double-page spreads in
various newspapers and anthologies. A lot of this material, building up
to another sprawling long-form narrative, has been collected in issue 18
of Acme Novelty Library. At its core is yet another of Ware's
sadsack heroes — a lonely woman who's missing a leg — but this is some
of the artist's most formally ambitious work. Each of these stories
breaks down the page into a massive diagram, often presenting the
titular apartment building with the rooms within it as panels, while
mazes of arrows and text weave around the page, directing the reader's
attention in a non-linear flow. It's daring and inventive work, forcing
the reader to discover new ways of reading every time one approaches the
page.

7. SAFE AREA GORAZDE
by
Joe Sacco, 2000

Joe Sacco is a unique figure in modern comics:
there is no one else who combines sheer cartooning chops with a
newspaper reporter's sensibility and instincts in quite the same way.
His reportage from war-torn areas of Israel/Palestine and the Balkan
region gets to the heart of these conflicts through the testimonies of
witnesses and victims, privileging the stories people tell and the
experiences of average people on the ground during historic tragedies.
While always conscious of the big-picture story, Sacco is committed to a
more intimate, personal form of journalism, rooted in oral anecdote and
day-to-day life. Safe Area Gorazde is one of his finest works,
an account of his time spent in a nominally stable UN-controlled area
of Bosnia, where he speaks with survivors and refugees from the Serbian
offensive. As in most of Sacco's work, this book weaves together past
and present, juxtaposing excerpts from history against the present lives
of these people, fenced in and surrounded by devastation on all sides.
And yet the book's most poignant current is arguably the way in which
normality keeps trying to reassert itself despite the horrors these
people have experienced. Little things like music, clothes and
cigarettes become loaded signifiers of stability and normality, of the
possibility that life will be good again, no longer dictated by terror
and death. Even as Sacco explores various horrifying anecdotes of
survival and violence, he is also aware that his interviewees are just
as concerned with more prosaic struggles: relationships troubled both by
the war and more familiar obstacles, the desire for designer clothes
from the West, the need to laugh, dance, drink and have fun with
friends. This texture, this interplay between horror and normality,
makes Safe Area Gorazde an especially powerful document of the
effects of war.

6. ASTHMA
by John
Hankiewicz, 2002-2006

The comics of John Hankiewicz, as collected in Asthma,
his only full-length collection to date, are poetic and strange, using
the language of comics not so much to tell stories as to create moods,
to suggest ineffable, inexpressible ideas in the permutations of cartoon
iconography and densely cross-hatched drawings. The comics in Asthma
cover a wide range of styles and concerns, establishing the relatively
broad territory that Hankiewicz explores. His "Amateur Comics" strips
wordlessly rearrange a set of simple elements (man, chair, radio, book,
picture frame) in ways that suggest abstract visual poetry, repeating
motifs and "rhyming" the compositions from panel to panel. In "Martha
Gregory," he uses a subtle disconnect between image and narration to
explore the psychology of a dissatisfied woman and her male counterpart.
Other strips, like the "Dance" series," simply explore the pure
aesthetics of movement and form, as stylized, graceful dancers flow
together and apart, creating abstract patterns as they move.
Hankiewicz's work is frequently puzzling and inscrutable, suggesting
slippery, half-formed ideas that are difficult to tease out from within
his by turns surreal or mundane compositions. His comics are evasive,
never adhering to a single interpretation but instead offering up many
suggestive possibilities.

5. KRAMERS ERGOT
by
Sammy Harkham (editor) & various, 2003-2008

The defining anthology of the 2000s has been Sammy
Harkham's Kramers Ergot, which started as a small,
self-published zine and, with its fourth volume, became the
gathering point for everything avant-garde, experimental, unusual and
inventive in early 21st Century comics. The fourth, fifth and sixth
volumes of this groundbreaking anthology gathered together under one
roof a virtual who's who of artists pushing the boundaries of what
comics could be. Contributions ranged from the wayward children's book
aesthetic of Souther Salazar, to the patient, straightforward
storytelling of editor Harkham, to the media collage of Paper Rad, to
the brightly colored dream comics of David Heatley, to John Hankiewicz's
destabilizing newspaper strip parody, to the delicate minimalism of
Anders Nilsen, to the arty innovations of Elvis Studio, and so much
more. Along the way, Harkham's increasingly broad survey gathered in
more conventional storytellers (including some of the best work done
anywhere by either Gabrielle Bell or Kevin Huizenga), reprints of
obscure older material from around the world, and excerpts of work in
progress from familiar names like Gary Panter, Chris Ware and Jerry
Moriarty. Then, with the massive Kramers Ergot 7, proportioned
like giant-size classic newspaper strips such as Little Nemo in
Slumberland, Harkham's anthology presented a compelling formal
challenge to some of comics' best artists, asking them to work on a
truly huge canvas. Taken as a whole body of work, these four issues of Kramers
Ergot represent one of the most exciting collections of
boundary-expanding comics available.

4. GANGES/CURSES/OR ELSE
by
Kevin Huizenga, 2007-ongoing/2002-2004/2004-2008

Kevin Huizenga is the best young artist in
comics. It's as simple as that. With his recent Fantagraphics series Ganges
(part of the Ignatz line of high-quality pamphlets) Huizenga has
matured into one of comics' finest formalists. His work here, starring
his everyman stand-in Glenn Ganges, is concerned with the minutiae of
daily life, which is common enough in indie comics. What sets Huizenga
apart is that he deals with such mundanities not only in terms of small
external actions and observational details, but with a sensitivity to
the complexities of the thought process, of the richness of mental
processes and the insistent cycles of memory. His work is deeply
introspective, constantly coming up with inventive and expressive ways
of visualizing thought: the third issue of Ganges, in which the
protagonist spends the better part of 20 pages simply lying in bed
thinking, is the apex of this approach, as Ganges wanders through his
own mind, interacting with his mental landscape and the words flowing
through his head as he tries in vain to clear his mind and go to sleep.
It's cerebral in the best sense, treating thought and ideas as visceral
and sensory. The series' high point thus far, though, is actually its
stunning second issue, which opens with a few pages of abstract
permutations, an imaginary video game in which pixelated figures undergo
intense transformations as they do battle. This leads into a story
where Glenn's experience playing a video game causes him to
free-associate to his time as an office drone during the dot-com boom,
and the chain of memories unexpectedly creates poignancy and depth from
something as simple as playing a shoot-em-up video game. By the end of
the story, Huizenga has explored the intricacies of office culture, the
economic realities of the Internet age, the sensual and communitarian
pleasures of multiplayer online gaming, and the mingled nostalgia and
regret implicit in this story about failure and loss. It's all lent
extra impact by Huizenga's crisp style, which makes something virtually
spiritual out of digital fighters careening across a computer screen.

Huizenga's
work in the 2000s hasn't been limited to Ganges, by any means.
He's been a prolific and diverse artist, also publishing five issues of
the minicomic Or Else, which combined reprints of material
from his previous Supermonster series with new stories. He also
put together the book collection Curses, which gathered
together Or Else #1 with various anthology appearances and
short stories. Huizenga's work is best appreciated as a complete oeuvre,
as his signature fascinations — the mind, nature, religion,
domesticity, memory, philosophy, science — are treated in different ways
and different aesthetic forms throughout his work. Glenn Ganges, the
blank-faced, big-nosed cartoon who wanders through many of these
stories, is Huizenga's neutral observer, his way of getting a handle on
all the ideas and moments he wants to explore. His work, no matter where
it is encountered, is refreshing, sophisticated and exciting. [buy] | [buy]

3. NEW ENGINEERING/TRAVEL
by
Yuichi Yokoyama, 2004

If you have never seen the comics of Yuichi
Yokoyama, you have never seen anything like them. The mostly silent,
formally restless work of this Japanese innovator is in a category of
its own. There have been two Picturebox books collecting his manga
output thus far, and both are rewarding, idiosyncratic, and wildly
entertaining. New Engineering collects two sets of stories, one
of them detailing the construction of various structures of inscrutable
purpose, the other examining, in equally dense detail, a series of
fights between goofily-dressed warriors. Yokoyama is obsessed with
process, with examining a series of actions through the lens of his
time-stretched sequences and analytical images. The combat stories are
particularly enlightening in this regard, as Yokoyama observes the way
his absurdist weapons and fight scenarios — in one, there's a sword so
big it requires several men to wield it — cause aesthetically appealing
havoc and devastation. In one story, fighters throw books at one
another, and Yokoyama precisely analyzes all of the ways in which sword
thrusts might slice through and take apart the books. His "Public Works"
stories are essentially the reverse of this, examining assembly rather
than disassembly, but the observant, witty sensibility is more or less
the same.

As good as this book is, it is in some ways dwarfed by
the accomplishment of Yokoyama's other collection, Travel,
which is quite simply stunning in the way it takes a simple set-up and
single-mindedly examines every facet of the experience. The book
silently follows several passengers — looking much like the silly heroes
of the "Combats" stories — on a lengthy train trip. And that's it. A
bunch of guys stride purposefully onto a train, wander through its
corridors looking for a seat, gaze absentmindedly out the windows,
perhaps plot conspiracies that are never enacted, then disembark at the
end. It's all stylized and exaggerated so that every least little action
is magnified, and Yokoyama nearly makes an action extravaganza out of
the most prosaic material. It is also a book deeply attuned to sensual
and sensory experiences, boasting one of the most beautiful sequences in
all of comics, when the train passes through a storm and its aftermath,
and the play of shadows, and of light reflecting off water, creates a
few pages of near-abstract design that has to be seen to be believed.

2. JIMBO IN PURGATORY
by
Gary Panter, 2000

Gary Panter's magnum opus is his epic mash-up of
the Purgatory section from Dante's Divine Comedy with Panter's
own punk everyman character Jimbo and a wide array of cultural reference
points, ranging from Boccaccio's Dante-inspired Decameron to
Frank Zappa, John Lennon, 50s sci-fi movies, pin-up models, punk rock,
and more. It's a dazzling pastiche, with every page laid out in a tight
grid of nine panels, and each panel starting with a quote from Dante and
relating it to all sorts of other cultural reference points, images and
quotes. The panels don't just stand alone either, but instead form
unified patterns and images at the level of the page, so that each page
can be read both as a sequence of nine panels and as a single image in
itself. The denseness of Panter's references and cross-references makes
the experience of reading this book a truly overwhelming experience;
every line, every image, spirals into multiple other references and
ideas, pulling in the whole wide expanse of world culture as a stomping
ground for Jimbo's wanderings through the Purgatory of modern existence
towards enlightenment. [buy]

1. LOVE AND ROCKETS VOL. II
by
Jaime Hernandez, 2000-2008

Jaime Hernandez has, since 1981, when Love
and Rockets first appeared, been one of the greatest of American
cartoonists, and also one of the greatest storytellers in comics. While
his brother Gilbert's contributions to the series they created together
spanned all over the map — from surrealist gags to bizarre fantasy
stories to the South American drama of Palomar — Jaime's work
was increasingly focused, with singular intensity, on the characters of
his Locas saga. The story of two young Chicana punks, Maggie
and Hopey, this low-key epic has now been a work in progress for nearly
30 years. Jaime has made his characters age and change with time,
introducing new characters in the process and constantly shuffling
around his cast, exploring the ways in which people grow and develop,
the way friendships break and repair, the way loves ebb and flow as time
goes by. It's an affecting punk soap opera, and the more history
accumulates behind these characters, the richer and deeper Jaime's
stories get.

In the 2000s, after a brief experiment in telling
stories in their own separate series, Jaime and Gilbert reunited under
the familiar Love and Rockets banner for a second series.
Gilbert's satiric wit and outlandish style are still intact, but somehow
his work in recent years seems increasingly remote from the emotion and
heft of his best stories, which is why he is sadly absent from this
list. Jaime, however, just keeps getting better. The Locas-related
stories in volume II of Love and Rockets are some of his best
work, examining his heroines on the cusp of adulthood, feeling that they
now have to mature but reluctant to leave behind the wildness and fun
of their youths. These are moving, graceful stories, about growing old,
about making new starts, about body image and nostalgia and having a
sense of home.

The peak of Jaime's recent output can especially
be found in a pair of books collecting his final contributions to Love
and Rockets Vol. II. Ghost of Hoppers is one of his best
standalone works, focusing on Maggie as she reappraises her life
following a divorce. This book is infused with elements of horror and
fantasy, but its emphasis is on this 30-something's nostalgia for a home
she no longer feels any connection to. As she revisits the sites of her
past, scenes from her punk glory days poignantly weave together with
the vision of her as an older, chubbier, tired woman. As with all of
Jaime's recent work, it draws much of its power from the rich history of
this character, but at the same time the polished beauty of his
cartooning, and his efficient storytelling, prevent this book from being
one for the hardcore fans only. The same is true of the follow-up
volume The Education of Hopey Glass, which turns to the
artist's other central character, a wild girl who's realizing that,
without even meaning to, she's taken the first few steps towards
maturity. Jaime's storytelling, his sheer drawing chops, and his obvious
love for these complex characters, make these books some of the most
moving works in all of comics. There is no greater all-around artist in
modern comics than Jaime Hernandez, and his recent work builds on his
past successes so that his oeuvre as a whole is shaping up to be one of
literature's best sustained stories about aging and the shifting of
relationships over the course of a life. I will gladly follow Maggie and
Hopey and the rest of these people wherever Jaime chooses to take them.