REVIEW: Devour: A Graphic Novel
Devour: A Graphic Novel
By Jazmine Joyner & Anthony Pugh
Abrams ComicArts – Megascope/208 pages/$24.99
Anansi has had a bit of a revival in the last decade or so. The African trickster god has played a significant role in comics and prose, soon to conquer television in the adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys. Until then, we can sit back and enjoy this debut work from writer Jazmine Joyner, who makes their fiction debut after writing for numerous places, including /film, SyFy Wire, Ms En Scnee, And Comics MNT.
The Turner house stands in a small town in a Louisiana suburb. It’s been around for a long time and garnered much gossip and speculation. When its current occupant, Vassie, develops dementia, her son brings his family to live and care for her.
The only daughter, Patsy, is a talented artist who carefully navigates her way through her new high school, making just one friend, fellow artist Stu Everett. Most of her time, though, is spent at home, and the reason becomes clear: as the sole female in the waning family line, she is destined to replace Vassie as the guardian of Anansi.
Deep in the basement, trapped in a pocket dimension underground, a manifestation of the story-hungry spider screams for release. Slowly but surely, Patys comes to accept that Vassie’s stories and her magic are both real. She does not take well to having this destiny revealed to her and eventually takes comfort when her brother Demetrius is taken into their confidence.
Nearby are the Everetts, white rednecks who harbor a decades-old grudge against the Turners, feeling the plot of land is rightfully theirs. Their enmity and bitterness represent the lingering racism that mires the deep South to the past. They want to learn the Turner house’s secrets, hoping to find a way to gain control of the property once and for all.
The various threads are leisurely paced, giving plenty of room for the plot to percolate and boil in the story’s final quarter. The sense of dread is palpable throughout, and the Truner family is nicely delineated. The Everetts, though, are one-dimensional stereotypes that I wish were as nuanced as their black counterparts.
Anthony Pugh’s artwork conveys the horror and the ordinary with clear storytelling and fine coloring. Some of his figures are stiff, or the proportions feel off, but this veteran illustrator at least provides details and backgrounds, grounding the story’s fantastic elements in a realistic setting.
Unfortunately, the story does not end but continues into another volume. What’s here is good, but a done-in-one might have felt more satisfactory.