Comicsgirl

YEAH! Buy at Powell’s

Everything about YEAH! (2011, Fantagraphics) is pretty ridiculous.

For most people, Peter Bagge and Gilbert Hernandez aren’t the first two creators that come to mind when considering who’d make great comics for preteen/young teen girls. But this actually happened. And from a mainstream publisher (DC Comics/Vertigo) no less. Then it disappeared into history until it was republished earlier this year.

And you should be glad it was. Like I said, it is ridiculous — for its mere existence — and for the story.

YEAH! is a rock band composed of three young women — spacey guitarist Krazy, sweet hippie drummer Honey and the tough and glamorous Woo-Woo. You want to read this already, I’m sure. But wait — YEAH!, despite being from New Jersey is the biggest band in outer space (it’s just too bad no one on earth has ever heard of them). The women’s ineptly manipulative manager Crusty often gets them into trouble by not revealing the whole truth and they face musical rivals (The Snobs, Miss Hellraiser) and slimy record executives.

This is a delightful amount of fun. Bagge’s writing has the right mix of breathlessness and sarcasm and the silliness he tosses out is playfully weird. The strong lines and retro cartoony fell of Hernandez’s art gives this book a perfect look. But do I really need to tell you Gilbert Hernandez is great? I find the way he draws aliens to be a particular joy.

Now, I know that it’s quite possible that this book doesn’t align as closely with your interests as it does mine (really, “girls in rock bands,” “comics” and “space” is nearly the entire list of stuff I like) so it’s a little hard for me to imagine who wouldn’t like it.

But yes, you’ll like YEAH!.

Ivy Buy at Powell’s

I’ve been rewatching My So-Called Life on Netflix streaming.

When that show first aired, I was just the right age for it (a freshman in high school to Angela Chase’s sophomore) but now, I see very different things in it. I love the beautifully troubled Rayanne more than I used to — I think she probably became someone amazing — and whereas the teenage me found Jordan to be mysterious and intriguing, I now see how ridiculously unworthy of Angela he is. Also, poor Brian Krakow.

Now, while talking about My So-Called Life is plenty of fun (as is the ’90s fashion. Let’s bring some of that back!), I think really, stories about teenagers are really just a matter of perspective.

I liked a good deal of Sarah Oleksyk‘s Ivy (Oni Press, 2011) but I also think I see it in a different way than I would have if I was Ivy’s age.

Ivy is an artistic senior looking to escape her life in small-town Maine. She lives with her hard-working single mother and has fallen in with the other misfits at her high school if she really doesn’t like them. After meeting a trouble boy at an art school fair, Ivy tries to take her life into her own hands, with mixed results.

Oleksyk’s art is approachable and open — Ivy’s short hair gives her a punky edge while her nondescript facial features make her someone who doesn’t stand out. You went to high school with dozens of girls like this. Maybe you were one. Ivy’s friends, while a bit more distinctive, still look like people I knew (or at least knew people who were like them). It makes the story feel intimate and personal as well as universal.

Still, the dramatic turn — Ivy runs away with Josh after being suspended for school — feels a little false. It’s not that I don’t believe teenagers do this, but nothing in Ivy’s character really seemed like it was something she would do. The adults feel pretty one-dimensional. Ivy’s math teacher has it out for her for no real reason I can discern, and Ivy’s mother’s anger toward her feels misplaced. I can understand that Ivy’s mother wants a better life for her daughter, certainly, but I think she’s presented as being overly harsh toward her daughter.

But like I said, it’s maybe a matter of perspective. Oleksyk’s sympathies are with Ivy through and through, so of course the adults are going to be against her. Of course it’s a reasonable thing that Ivy would run away and that Josh would turn on her once they slept together. It’s a teenager’s world — everything is mostly black and white. People are good or bad and there’s not much in between.

The gray washes and Oleksyk’s strong lines do give Ivy the appropriate mood and her ability to express emotion both through quiet images and exaggerated drawings is admirable. She also composes beautiful pages, with borders closing in her characters or isolating them in open spaces. I have no complaints about her abilities as a comic artist.

I will love to see what Sarah Oleksyk does next. I just hope she leaves Ivy behind.

The New York Five Buy on Amazon.com

I was prepared to write off all of the Minx line before I read The New York Four — finally, there was a book in this imprint I felt like teenage girls would actually want to read. Of course, ultimately, it didn’t matter since DC Comics dropped the Minx imprint.

But I was happy to see that The New York Five found a home in the Vertigo line. Sure, it was maybe a little outside of the typical Vertigo title — there isn’t an abundance of sex or violence here — but as far as comics that are for more than usual audiences, it fit right in.

I bought The New York Five happily. I want more comics like this, after all.

Well, maybe not exactly like this.

Picking up where The New York Four left off, our heroines Lona, Merissa, Ren and Riley are still dealing with the repercussions of their first semester, and they’re now all sharing an apartment. More or less. Lona is still coping with her new reality and who she is in New York; Merissa has family to deal with; Ren is a bit too much of a free spirit; and Riley is trying to make up with her estranged sister.

It’s a lot of drama and purposefully so. But I’d say it’s almost too much drama, especially once street kid Olive (the fifth in the New York “five”) is thrown into the mix. If you haven’t read the first book, you aren’t going to get to know these girls much at all — in writer Bryan Wood’s hands, they are broadly drawn character types. I wanted to get to know them, but that the whole point of this series was that the characters withdrew from each other, it was almost impossible to do so.

Ryan Kelly’s New York still feels like a real place, however, and his art gives these character life. They are still pouty lips and tousled hair, but their fashionable glamor is part of the reason why The New York Five works when it does — it feels aspirational. Even if you don’t want to be these characters, you easily admire them.

Still, whereas I enjoyed the intimate drama of The New York Four, The New York Five just seemed to pull in too many directions at once. I feel like it tried to be too big and lost sight of the power of just telling the stories of these four young women out on their own for the first time. Maybe if it had been five issues instead of four, I would’ve been happier with it.

But for all my complaints, I’d still pick up The New York Six if that ends up happening. Even if I wasn’t 100 percent sold on this one, I still want more like it to exist. I will still buy them. Clearly, for all my complaints about The New York Five, I’m still completely sold on it.

(This review is obviously based on the four issues of the limited series — you know, since the collected version isn’t out yet. You can still, more the likely, pick up the individual issues at better comic book stores. If you want it, I encourage you to do that, but I will happily take the few cents you would send my way with the pre-order of the collection.)

Zita the Spacegirl Buy on Amazon.com

Ben Hatke is not shy about his influences in Zita the Spacegirl (First Second, 2011). He calls up Star Wars, Marvel Comics’ MODOK, Terry Gilliam (and I’d also say Terry Pratchett while we’re at it) and — I’m not throwing this out lightly — Jim Henson and his Muppets (maybe more specifically, Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal, but the overall attitude, too) as well as many more. But that’s not to say this book ever becomes a game of “spot the reference.” Hatke has enough skill to make this book fun in its own right.

Our heroine is the titular Zita — a girl of about 11 who follows her friend/rival Joseph through a portal that sends them both to a planet that’s facing destruction. Zita’s brave and savvy enough to just go with the scenario that’s presented to her. Yes, there are problems — weird creatures and dangers lurking at every turn — but Zita’s also having fun. While I wouldn’t call all of Hatke’s creatures “cuddly,” there is a softness to his art which makes much of the book pretty playful. There are scares, sure, but Zita’s always presented as someone who can rise to them.

The roguish Piper, who is not quite trustworthy since he has his own agenda and a goatee, makes a worthy foil for the practical Zita as well as a unthreatening crush object (if we’re going with the general Labyrinth vibe here, David Bowie was much weirder on that account). He’s also a good entry point for adults and older readers. As much as I adore Zita, I do want to know Piper’s story too (and since this book ends with a promise of more, maybe I’ll get to).

Hatke goes far to evoke a world full of robots and aliens and castles. It’s such an overused word for books like these, but yes, his art has an animated quality to it. Zita seems to be moving as she runs away from robot spiders, or as HAMBO attacks their enemies. Hatke’s storytelling is amazing, but it is his expressive, delightful art that drives this book.

I am probably at least 20 years too old to be in the target audience for this book, but at the same time, I absolutely am. Hatke has created a title that can connect with all ages — children who like adventures, their nerdy parents (or people who could be nerdy parents), and those of us who used to be 10-year-old girls (or boys!) and still appreciate stories about them.

Ultimately, I don’t know who wouldn’t love Zita the Spacegirl. I think it’s for all of us.

Should we? These are honest questions.

I was never really a Spider-Man fan so I don’t know that much about Mary Jane. She has, however, always struck me as your basic pretty girl character — she only has a personality when it suits the comic. And as you know, she’s been ditched in favor of Gwen Stacy as the love interest in the upcoming reboot of the Spider-Man film franchise.

But that brings me to Mary Jane: Homecoming and Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane: Sophomore Jinx. These, if Wikipedia is to be believed, are more or less part of the same series although they don’t feel all that connected to me, honestly (granted, though, these two parts aren’t directly continuous, so I have missed some things in between the two).

Mary Jane: Homecoming Buy on Amazon.com

In Mary Jane: Homecoming, Mary Jane is dealing with her relationship with Harry Osbourn as well as Flash’s crush on her and troubles with her friend Liz. It’s all pretty typical high school stuff — Harry is aimlessly angry and he and Mary Jane just seem to be together because they are. Liz and MJ have a conflicted friendship — they like each other, sure, mostly because they’ve been friends forever, but they’re competitive with each other, too. Oh, and Spider-Man shows up and fights some bad guys a couple of times, but that’s pretty inconsequential (except MJ does feel a growing connection to him — and to Peter Parker).

In writer Sean McKeever‘s hands, the story’s twists have the right amount of drama without ever becoming over-the-top. These kids are just trying to figure themselves out as well as each other. The shifting alliances and confusing relationships feel natural. He has a wonderful grasp of how teenagers behave without being condescending. Takeshi Miyazawa‘s art is cute and soft and is just manga-like enough to make it distinctive from a superhero title. I love the eye for detail he has, from MJ and Liz’s updos for the homecoming dance to the emotional glances characters give each other.

Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane: Sophomore Jinx Buy on Amazon.com

Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane: Sophomore Jinx feels a bit different. It has another creative team of Terry Moore and Craig Rousseau and everything feels a bit bigger — more drama, more action, more conflict. Here, MJ is just starting her sophomore year of high school (hence the title) and struggles to find her place after someone starts some cruel rumors about her.

I don’t think anyone would accuse Moore of not being able to write women well. Even when Strangers in Paradise began getting more and more convoluted, it was always clear his female characters were fully realized. He does less well with teenage girls, though. This isn’t particularly bad, but he doesn’t seem to quite grasp the intricacies of teenage relationships (and maybe I’m wrong, but I’m almost sure no teenager was appending “not” to the end of a sentence to make it a negative in 2008). Rousseau’s art is stylized and has an exaggerated, animated feel to it, but also comes across as a bit more generic. I don’t think he gets to shine here.

Neither of these books are bad. I liked Homecoming more than Sophomore Jinx, but I liked both. But I was left with one major question: Who was this title for?

Now, I ended up with them because I am interested in this sort of thing (you know, comics aimed at girls). Homecoming was a dollar at a comic con and a friend gave me Sophomore Jinx because he ended up with it and figured it had a better home with me.

But other than me, who was this intended for? I can’t really picture the audience for this title.

Mary Jane is presented as likeable, sweet and smart, but she’s also one of the popular kids. She has some problems at home, sure, but a lot of that just feels thrown in to keep her from seeming too perfect.

I can only use myself as an example, but as a teen — even as a preteen — I wouldn’t have been interested in Mary Jane. I was a misfit and I didn’t hang out with cheerleaders or football players. I wasn’t interested in reading about them. And I’d guess that a lot of teen girls that are into comics wouldn’t really either.

(I did see some girls excited by Archie comics, so maybe I’m wrong.)

While I was critical of a lot the Minx titles for feeling too young for their intended audience, they were mostly about girls I would’ve wanted to read about at that age. I could see a 12-year-old enjoying Homecoming that her loving father (or even older brother) bought for her, but I do think Sophomore Jinx, while still pretty innocent, is probably too old for her. I don’t think any older teen girls who like comics would’ve sought this out on their own. It’s possible I’m wrong there, though.

I think Marvel has done some interesting things aimed at women (even before last year’s push, and even when they’ve put stupid covers on them) but I’m not sure why they felt like Mary Jane needed to be its go-to teen girl character, other than the company thought she was (or would be) “popular” following the Spider-Man movies.

Which I guess means we can look forward to some comics starring Gwen Stacy.