Author: Andrew Wheeler

These three books don’t represent the comics community of the Philippines: I know almost nothing about that community and I’m sure of that. Extrapolating from these three stories – from the three comics stories I happen to have – is futile and silly and I’m going to try not to do it. Drawing any conclusions about the larger Philippine comics market would be like reading [[[Iron Fist]]],[[[ Scott Pilgrim]]], and [[[Fun Home]]] and from them alone creating a unified theory of North American comics.

So all I really want to say up front is this: these may be some of the best Philippine comics. But I seriously doubt that they’re all of the best. There’s probably even some projects even better than these. It’s a big world out there. (I also want to thank Charles Tan, who sent me a big box of Philippine comics and SF late last year, and without whom I wouldn’t have heard of any of these books.)

Elmer (issues #1-4)
By Gerry Alanguilan
Komikero Publishing; May and Oct 2006, Nov 2007, Nov 2008; 50 Philippine pesos ea.

There’s something about the comics form that attracts really unlikely premises – flying men, teenagers who want to do their homework, retellings of operas without music, and whatever[[[Alice in Sunderland]]] is. [[[Elmer]]] is another in that proud and odd lineage: it’s a serious contemporary story set in a world where chickens suddenly became intelligent in 1979.

Yes, chickens. The protagonist is a young chicken named Jake, who comes back from his dead-end life in Manila to the rural farm where he grew up, because his father, Elmer, has had a stroke and isn’t expected to last long. He rejoins his sister May (a nurse) and brother Francis (a movie star) there, and stays there after his father’s death. Except for the chicken thing, the plot set-up is very like an indy movie, some Philippine [[[Garden State]]]. (more…)

I Saw You…: Comics Inspired by Real-Life Missed Connections
Edited by Julia Wertz
Random House/Three Rivers Press; February 2009; $12.95

Everyone’s looking for something: money, fame, recognition, wonder, love. For most of those things, you’re on your own. But, for the last one, there’s always the personal ads. Blatantly advertising for love can feel very needy and desperate, though – but what if the love is already there (or, at least, you hope it is) and just needs to be coaxed out? That’s the place for the missed connection – I saw you, you winked at me, the subway doors closed, and so on and on. A missed connection, if you’re inclined to think that way, if someone you should have really met and clicked with, but didn’t, quite, because of external circumstances.

Julia Wertz, the cartoonist of the webcomic [[[The Fart Party]]], is one of many people obsessed with missed connections, either checking incessantly to see if someone “missed” them, or just amazed at what some people think a “connection” is. She found herself checking Craigslist several times a day, and then decided to make a minicomic out of missed connection ads. She got many more submissions than she’d expected, and that minicomic anthology eventually blossomed into this book – a collection of comics by nearly a hundred contributors, all illustrating actual missed connections ad, imagining their own missed connections, or just inspired by the idea.

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Jeffrey Brown appeared in the comics world a few years back, with his painfully confessional (and almost as painfully crudely drawn) graphic novels [[[Clumsy]]] and [[[Unlikely]]]. He’s expanded beyond autobiography since then, mostly into odd but straight-faced takes on geeky topics, such as [[[Incredible Change-Bots]]]. He had three new books in 2008 – well, at least three new books; it’s entirely possible that I missed something – a big autobiographical book and two smaller, weirder books in a new, very loose, series. So I thought I might as well look at them all together, before he publishes another four or five books.

Little Things
By Jeffrey Brown
Simon & Schuster/Touchstone, April 2008, $14.00

This one is subtitled “[[[A Memoir in Slices]]],” and, yes, it’s yet another in the tsunami of memoir-comics from major not-usually-comics publishers. (I guess they’re all hoping for another [[[Persepolis]]] or [[[Maus]]], and not looking to far from the apple tree, either.) Brown has a two-page comics introduction, in which he explains the book to someone on the phone – which comes down to “Anyway, they’re a bunch of autobiographical short stories and they’re funny sometimes.”

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Dean Koontz’s Frankenstein: Prodigal Son, Volume One
Adaptation by Chuck Dixon; Illustrated by Brett Booth
Dell Rey, February 2009, $22.95

There comes a time in every best-selling writer’s life when he realizes that he’d like to make money even faster than he can write books. OK, maybe that realization comes to all of us – but the best-selling writer can actually do something about it. At that point, assuming that scruples aren’t a problem – and how on earth did he become a best-selling writer and keep his scruples, anyway? – the options are two: let someone else write a book under your name, or license something you’ve already written to another medium, and let Joe Hired-Hand do the heavy lifting in that format.

Or, if you’re Dean Koontz, you could do both.

Some years ago, he got Kevin J. Anderson to co-write a novel called [[[Dean Koontz’s Frankenstein: Prodigal Son]]], and then a couple of sequels. (There was also a TV deal at the time, though, sadly, it eventually fell through.) And now long-time comics writer Chuck Dixon has adapted that novel, which was at least half-written by Anderson in the first place, into a comics series…which, of course, still has “Dean Koontz” as the largest thing on the cover.

(I’m beginning to think that popular writers’ names have a nearly homeopathic power – no matter how much they’re diluted, the audience will keep clamoring for more.)

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In the Flesh
By Koren Shadmi
Villard, February 2009, $14.95

You probably haven’t heard of Shadmi before this book – he’s an Israeli, now resident in New York, and this is his first collection. Some of these stories did appear before…in French, in various anthologies, which I doubt any of us are familiar with.

But he’s clearly a mature artist; these nine stories are of a piece, both in their drawing and their writing, and they paint a consistent picture of the world. It’s not a pleasant picture, though: Shadmi’s world is ruled by tormented desire and inchoate longings, populated by characters who live in quiet despair only when they’ve settled down a bit from the loud kind. In fact, [[[In the Flesh]]] reads very much like a comics adaptation of the short stories of some young writer with a strong voice – it’s not so much “art comics” as it is a direct translation into comics of a particular kind of art short fiction.

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