Americus (2011) MK Reed & Jonathan Hill

First Second has a way of crafting their books in a way that’s really pleasing to me on a visceral level, and I’m not sure exactly why or how. Regardless, I seem to pull them almost instinctively off the shelves at the bookstore, and once I find one in my hands, I have to leave with it. I have never consciously thought to seek them out or keep up with their catalogue – I trust them to find me. Case in point with Americus.

I grabbed this book and immediately fell in love with the deceptively simple art style, and how understated the cover was. It’s a great companion in a lot of ways to Anya’s Ghost, in respect to their physical appearances, the artifacts themselves. Also, Hill and Brosgol both have amazingly expressive styles that are still comfortingly clean and cartoonish. I don’t know. It’s weird to say, but there’s something about these books that I love interacting with them.

The story is near and dear to my heart, as a reader and as an eventual librarian. In the small town of Americus, full of your average mix of small-town folk, there is one very vocal group trying to get the library to ban a book series entitled ‘Apathea Ravenchilde: The Huntress Witch’ because they claim it promotes Satanism and diverts innocent children from the path of righteousness.

Yes, it’s essentially the Harry Potter debate from a zillion years ago, with Ravenchilde’s series being touted as the miracle series that’s getting kids to read. But I like how Ravenchilde’s story is interwoven into the bigger story – its surprisingly complex for its limited page-time, and is something I’d probably read.

At the center of the debate is Neil, a freshly-minted high schooler who loves to read and helps out as a page at the Americus library. He’s friends with the Youth Services librarian, who is a sassy, YA-lovin’ lady after my own heart. But Neil’s best friend Danny loves to read just as much as he does, except Danny’s mother is spearheading the Apathea ban, and sends Danny away to military school after she discovers him reading the books. Oh, and after he tells her he’s gay.

Neil is now all alone in this new stage of life, and he has to decide what he stands for. He struggles for his freedom to read, but this book is also about a very identifiable transformation from awkward middle-schooler to only-slighty-less-awkward high school freshman, and the various relationships along the way.

In terms of relationships, Americus gives us a glimpse into a number of lives within the town besides Neil’s, and we can see how they’re all connected. It’s really very subtle, which I loved, but it’s a nice nod to the fact that all actions affect someone else, even if you don’t realize it.

The personal politics might come off as a little simplistic, and the characters who fall on the side of pro-ban are definitely unsympathetic, but I feel like that’s a little forgivable if you don’t consider that story thread to be the main focus of the book. The biases of the authors are clear, but I suppose I don’t care since I share most of them.

It’s not perfect in its treatment of the issues, but it’s a very smart book and the coming-of-age part of the story is something I related to very strongly. Neil discovers music as he enters high school, and comes out of his shell a little bit, now that his only friend is too far away. He’s starting to become his own person, through books and music and new relationships, and that’s what high school is for. In that sense, Americus is perfection.

Gunnerkrigg Court vol. 1 (2009) Thomas Siddell

Continuing in the trend of comics I had never heard of until they were gifted to me by awesome people, Thomas Siddell’s Gunnerkrigg Court is an excellent web comic that just happens to also be in print. I read the first volume in hardback format (very pleasing) and then continued to read online. I think I’m in the middle of the second volume at this point, but I really can’t be sure.

The comic stars Antimony, a seventh year student just beginning her career at the boarding school Gunnerkrigg Court. Her mother has passed away after battling an extensive illness, and Antimony’s mysterious doctor father has sent her to her mother’s alma mater for reasons unknown, but we presume he’s pretty busy doctoring.

Antimony makes friends with a girl named Kat, who is a very skilled engineer for her age. Antimony’s life has been sheltered, and the dynamic between the two girls is really endearing. Antimony is mature for her age, and very wise, while Kat is highly intelligent with all things technical, outgoing, and much more comfortable with pop culture.

Their stories revolve around The Court, which the more we explore it the more we find it to be a nearly endless complex full of technological wonders and mysterious creatures. The Court is next to an nearly unfathomably deep ravine or divide, spanned by a single, lengthy bridge. On the other side is a mysterious wilderness. As we follow Antimony and Kat’s adventures, we discover that outside the Court, within this wilderness, live all sorts of mysterious, magical creatures of myth and legend.

There is a stark divide between the science-centered Court and the unexplainable world beyond the bridge. The denizens of the Court (humans, really) are obsessed with finding out how and why things work, while the spirits of the outer world are more content to take the magic of the world a face value, and embrace the unknown. There is a tentative truce between the inhabitants of these two opposite worlds, and somehow Antimony has the ability to see both sides.

The comic is drawn in a really fun way, and the adventures are often more lighthearted, despite the heavy nature of the overarching story. There’s a lot of symbolism throughout, which is fun to try and decipher -like Antimony’s name and necklace bearing alchemical significance. Alchemical symbolism in particular is prevalent, but other types are present as well. There’s also a lot of mythology and mythological creatures entwined in the stories, as well as robots and ghosts and the mysterious past populated by Antimony and Kat’s parents.

It’s a great all-ages adventure that could be likened to Harry Potter in some ways. Except I hate to do that, since it’s got such a distinctive character all on its own, and it doesn’t feel derivative in any way. There are common themes though, and fans of one may enjoy the other.

And it’s still going so you can read the archives and catch up, but still get more story every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

I Kill Giants (2009) Joe Kelly & J M Ken Niimura

I lucked out big-time when it comes to I Kill Giants, in that it was given to me as a gift. I had never heard of it before, and hadn’t read any reviews or summaries. It probably isn’t something I’d pick up off the shelf for myself at random either, so going into it only with the knowledge that a good friend really loves it was a boon.

The protagonist is Barbara, a weird blonde bespectacled fifth-grade girl, so I took to her immediately. She’s into “boy stuff”, and runs D&D games and knows more about Norse mythology than anyone her age probably ever has. The school bully and her cronies are on her case, and she fights back with amazing force, despite her size.

Barbara’s not friendly. Her life doesn’t really lend itself to friendly. She’s being raised by her stressed-out older sister, and we don’t really know what’s going on with her parents. She makes one tenuous friendship, with a girl named Sophia. And she kills giants.

This is where the summaries kill it. Barbara’s giant-killing abilities come from ancient Norse magic. And the giants may or may not be real – it depends on who you ask. But the spirit of her plight is very real, and it’s a heartbreaking, emotional read. Summaries give it all away, and really detract from the impact. But it’s a fantastic read for anyone, and something I’d recommend to kids (or adults) going through a tough time.

So, instead of spoiling the plot, I’ll talk about some other things I really liked about it. First, the art style isn’t something I was immediately attracted to, but it really grew on me. Niimura’s style really lends itself to Barbara’s character in that way. I also love the extra sketches and discussion in the back where Niimura and Kelly talk about the character development process, especially about Barbara’s animal ears that she wears. They’re the perfect “strange” accessory for her flavor of eccentric.

I also loved the naming. Barbara Thorson. Barbara come from the Latin for barbarian, or ultimately ‘stranger’ or ‘foreigner’. Thorson is exactly what it looks like – Son of Thor. Barbara destroys giants with a mystical hammer, Thor’s weapon of choice.

Also, Barbara meets Sophia early on in the book, and the two have a fractured friendship to start, due to Barbara’s standoffish-ness. Sophia comes from Greek and means “wisdom”. Barbara’s friendship with Sophia reflects her journey with wisdom itself, which any good D&D nerd knows is not the same thing as intelligence. (Which Barbara has out her ears, by the way.)

In short, I can’t recommend this enough. For anyone that’s taken fantasy a little too far, or found real life a little too real to deal with, this book is perfect.

Amulet: The Stonekeeper (2008) Kazu Kibuishi

Book-A-Week Wednesday
Week 4
Title: Amulet: The Stonekeeper (Book One)
Author/Illustrator: Kazu Kibuishi
Pages: 192

I had to take a break from last week’s endeavor, but unfortunately I didn’t get a break from much else. I began my first practicum, and that’s at least three full days each week for the rest of the semester. In addition to my job, my class(es?), and a new project that has spiraled out of control.

So I read a comic book this week.

Kibuishi is the brilliant mind behind the Flight anthologies, acting as both an author/illustrator and as the editor of the project. He’s also the creator of Daisy Kutter, an awesome steampunk-ish cowboy badass. Anyway, the man is prolific and talented and I don’t know why you’re still here. Go put your eyeballs on some of his stuff.

Okay, well, you can keep reading. I picked up Amulet a while back, but had been waiting to savor it. (Yeah, no, I don’t get me either.) I read it pretty quickly, over the course of a few evenings, and it’s just as emotionally powerful as the rest of his work.

Amulet‘s protagonists are Emily, the Stonekeeper, and her younger brother Navin. The suffer afamily tragedy early on, and they move with their mother to an old family home in the middle of nowhere. Which, ancestral houses in creepy BFE are where all magic lives. It’s fact.

Emily uncovers what are assuredly only the beginnings of some deep family secrets, and through doing inherits the Amulet. It comes with amazing power, but it also seems to have a mind of its own. In fact, Emily would probably have left well enough alone, except she and Navin and their mother tumble into a strange world where they’re all in danger. Most immediately, their mother.

With the help of strange robots designed by her great-grandfather, Emily faces some hard choices. It’s hard to differentiate between friend and enemy in a place you’ve never been, and Emily and Navin’s struggle really pulls at you.

The art is gorgeous, soft but very full. I can’t wait to grab the next few books. I know he’s working on Book Five right now, and I have no idea how far this series is going to go. Right now, however, I’m hooked!

I’ll leave you with some Noah and the Whale, for no reason other than it’s good.

Modelland (2011) Tyra Banks

Book-A-Week Wednesday
Week 3
Title: Modelland
Author: Tyra Banks
Pages: 204/563

This is happening over two weeks. I’m reading something else simultaneously, and also because Tyra Banks wrote five hundred and sixty pages of crazy.

Our tale starts with an unknown narrator shoving exposition down your throat faster than you can possibly have time to absorb it. This strange narrator pops up from time to time, for more injections of WTFery, likening clouds rising to push-up bras and calling you “Dahling”, all the while trying to be mysterious and omniscient. It’s a pairing that hurts.

Then, we meet Tookie de la Creme, a fifteen year-old sadsack who spends her days lying on the floor in her school’s hallway, horking down whipped cream and wishing desperately for someone to notice her. I’d think the fact that she isn’t stampeded to death during class-change was a sign that people noticed her, but in Tookie’s crazy brain, getting stepped on would be preferable. But anyway, her school-life is awful because she has a big forehead and mismatched eyes and some pretty girl is dating the guy she likes.

Tookie’s home life is terrible, granted, with her mother obsessed with the younger sister, Myrracle. Myrracle is written to be dumb as a box of rocks, but Tyra has no idea how real dumb people sound, so Myrracle is a sad attempt, saying things like “making in” instead of “making out”. She’s beautiful and therefore the favorite, because in this razy place, beauty is everything. You either get whisked off to Modelland in hopes of becoming a word-famous Intoxibella, or you work in a factory. That’s it.

Oh, right. Where are we? I figured it was a dystopia similar to Earth, but then Tyra explains about Metopia having four quadrants of extreme weather (how does anything grow, ever?) and then we learn about dozens of other lands with goofy names like Canne del Abra, a land of…candles. Or something. They’re all goofy versions ofreal countries, with names like NorDenSwe (akin to, well, Norway, Denmark and Sweden), BayJingle, Chakra (like India, I guess), and SansColor, home to all albinos everywhere.

Yet English is spoken in Tookie’s country, and Tyra references things like Yorkshire Terriers in a world where there is no Yorkshire. I don’t understand.

Her wordplay is shooting for Roald Dahl-esque, but it’s falling embarrassingly short. Everything has a cutesy name, and then a nickname, and it’s all too much. Like The Day of Discovery is referred to as T-DOD, and Tookie’s journal is called T-Mail Jail. Modelland has THBC, or Thigh High Boot Camp, and Run-A-Ways for runways, and everyone there is some kind of Bella or another. It’s hard to keep anything straight, since she’s taken the absurdist angle to such an extreme. Nothing is based in any kind of reality whatsoever.

Alright, let’s try some bullet points. My brain hurts.

• We’re introduced to Lizzie, Tookie’s batshit insane suicidal friend early on, which is really heavy stuff considering the rest of the book. And we haven’t seen her since.
• Tookie’s parents decide to have an extremely well-timed fight, in her hearing range, about whether her dad is really her dad, the night before the Day of Discovery, when girls are carried off to Modelland. Really? You wait fifteen years for that?
• SMIZEs. I just don’t even.
• Men are accessories. At best. End of story.
• Every plot point is overworked to the point of absurdity

It’s like J. K. Rowling and Roald Dahl had a baby, and that baby was RuPaul. Tyra needs the advice “Show, don’t tell”, because that’s the biggest issue with this book. I don’t feel a thing for any of these characters, because Tyra isn’t showing me anything about any of them. She’s just showing me on absurd snapshot after another, hoing they’ll all join up at the end and make sense.

So, when I get to the end, we’ll. see.

A couple reviews I like, and will make you laugh:

Why, A Blog! review of Modelland

A chapter-by-chapter review by RonReads, currently in progress