Comics on the brain?

Over the past few years my friends have tried their best to introduce me to the world of comic books and graphic novels. And though I still cannot stand the ugly, annoying, and confusing superhero ones like X-men and all that, there have definitely been many that have struck my fancy. Though I am not willing to learn 50+ years of back story and character history in order to understand a scene with two Justice League members, a twelve trade series is ok. Certain authors have become favorites, and even some series. I'm v. picky when it comes to comics. The artwork has to grab me or I can't read it. I like books because no one can screw up my view of things with something ugly or garish. And there are still those out there that just are too dumb for words.

So what makes me pick one up? First, who wrote it? If it's by Warren Ellis or Garth Ennis I'll probably read it. I just read a dumber than dumb one-shot by Ellis that he wrote after a joke he made. Seriously, I'll pick up anything of his - it's sick. Garth Ennis is also a sick man, and that makes me love him. He's wicked funny. Yes, I just used the word wicked. The only exception is when they write parts of those superhero series I don't like.
I look to see if it's a title that a friend has recommended. These folks are seriously hard core fans of the comics world. They know the evolution and history of a character going back to the Golden Age. At this point most know what I like and I can trust their recomendations (except Bad World which, though well drawn and well written by Mr Ellis, had burned things into my brain that I'd rather not remember).
As mentioned, the art is a big player. Comics are a visual medium and I'm not about to waste my time reading something if it's surrounded by crappy sketching or blinding neon colors (hello New Mutants ones I needed to read for a game). If you value your writing, you'll find a great artist to present it. I started reading The Authority, created by Warren Ellis. When he wrote it there was an artist that I really enjoyed (Brian Hitch, I think?) who made spreads that could never be captured in a page of words. Then the writer and artist changed and I was done with it. Ew - whoever it was turned every guy into this huge, broad-shouldered, no-neck creature. Couldn't take it.
Story topics, of course, comes in to it. Sure there are a few superhero-type ones, but those are usually the funnier ones (like Hitman) and a little off-beat. I like ones that stretch what the medium is about. Most recently I finished Brian K. Vaughan's Pride of Baghdad. It is about the lions that escaped from teh Baghdad zoo in 2003 and were roaming around the city until shot by US soldiers. It's from the point of view of the lions. It's a unique story and beautifully written. The art by Niko Henrichon is moving. One reason for my love of Ellis, besides his wit, is his using comics to explore what interests him. Space travel, you say? Enter Orbiter (see previous entry) and Ministry of Space. He is almost an anthropologist in his exploration of the world and humanity and everything is fodder for the page.


I have found that far more comics and graphic novels are appearing on my LibraryThing than is really representative of my reading habits, choices, and desires. Warren Ellis has taken over my Author Cloud. Because they are so short and quick, I tend to squeeze in one or two while reading a longer work (I'm still getting through Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass - a late edition with all the addins) or when I'm busy reading parts of reference material for research. No one actually reads those long archaeology tomes cover to cover, I swear! I work in a library and many comics come across my path that I don't seek out, and I just read them quickly before sending them on their way. This is what happened with the two recent ones, Pride of Baghdad and Hitman.

There is some merit to this medium (NOT genre, people). It's another means of conveying story, emotion, meaning. It's not the same as Golden Age Superman anymore.

WHEN I HEARD AT THE CLOSE OF THE DAY

When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol,. still it was not a happy night for me that follow'd,
And else when I carous'd, or when my plans were accomplish'd, still I was not happy,
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health, refresh'd, inging, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn,
When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light,
When I wander'd alone over the beach, and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise,
And when I though how my dear friend, my lover, was on his way coming, O then I was happy,
O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food nourish'd me more, and the beautiful day pass'd well,
And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at evening came my friend,
And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores,
I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed to me whispering to congratulate me,
For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night,
In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face as inclined toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast - and that night I was happy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TO A STRANGER

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking (it comes to me as of a dream),
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste. matured,
You grew up with me, were a by with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, you body has become not your only not left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I believe in you me soul, the other i am must not abase itself to you,
And you must not be abased to the other

Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
~~~~

~Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass