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.

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.

The War at Ellsmere
Buy at Amazon.com

Along with Raina Telgemeier and Hope Larson, Faith Erin Hicks is part of a new wave of female creators making really awesome comics aimed at younger female readers (vaguely “young adult” but their work tends to cover a range from probably 12-16 or so).

I think Hicks’ Zombies Calling is utterly delightful, but this month, I’m going with The War at Ellsmere (but do pick both of them up). Ellsmere follows Juniper, who has transferred to Ellsmere Academy and immediately makes an enemy of the school’s queen bee, Emily. She find an ally in her roommate, Cassie, who is as quirky and awkward as she is. Throughout, Hicks’ bold, cartoony art — her characters are all big eyes and smirky expressions — creates a wonderful portrait of female adolescence and how there’s really not that much separating the popular girls from the unpopular ones. Maybe you didn’t go to boarding school like the characters here, but you’ll find something to relate to.

This is one of those books that I don’t know why more people aren’t talking about it. It’s a wonderful example of an awesome comic for teenage girls. Or anyone, honestly.

Hicks is someone to watch and I’m overjoyed to see she has two works-in-progress for First Second Books. And if her Wolverine short story isn’t enough to make you love her work entirely, I don’t think I want to talk to you anymore.

The Dreamer

High school senior Bea is beautiful, talented and rich. A theater lover, she’s a shoe-in to play Juliet this year and she’s finally caught the eye of hunky football star Ben. Everything seems to be going well for her.

But she’s having these dreams where she’s in 1776, in the thick of the Revolutionary War.

Lora Innes‘ The Dreamer: The Consequence of Nathan Hale (IDW, 2009) introduces us to Bea, her friends and her story. In her waking life, she’s far from being a poor little rich girl or anything as cliche as that — rather, she’s playful and popular, teasing her friends and tormenting her cousin. In her dream life, she becomes taken with the heroic Alan Warren.

Innes’ art is gorgeous. Her teenagers are drawn to look like teenagers and her faces are bright and beautiful. She’s as capable of creating action-packed battle scenes as she is drawing more intimate, quite moments between two of the characters. Innes also seems to have a lot of shoujo manga’s appreciation for clothes (look — it’s a comic about teenage girls. There are going to be — and should be — many different outfits here).

But as much as I love the art, it would just be eye candy without the story. Bea is likable and accessible. She has a little bit of a fantasy life (since most of us aren’t rich and beautiful) but she’s also capable and can think on her feet. While she makes a few asides while in the 18th century, she adapts quickly to the rules of that time period while still remaining strong. Innes has obviously done her research and the scenes in the past feel as authentic as the modern-day ones

You can read the whole thing online (the book collects issues 1-6; Innes’ site also has 7-9 with more coming) but I love having the collection. I’m completely dazzled by the comic and I can’t believe I haven’t read it before.

And I think you should stop what you’re doing and go read it right now.

Foiled

Teenage Aliera can take on any of her fencing opponents without fear, but when it comes to life, she has a little bit more trouble. After her mom buys her a practice foil with a strange gem glued to it and she catches the eye of the cute new boy, Avery, her world gets much more interesting.

Written by the legendary Jane Yolen with art by Mike Cavallaro and published by First Second — would you really expect Foiled to be anything other than amazing? I am very biased toward girls-with-swords stories, but I haven’t loved a graphic novel this much in a long time.

Aliera is likable and very real. Her narration has a quiet strength, even through her self-doubt and confusion. Yolen’s subtle details — Aliera listens to Ani DiFranco and Loreena McKennitt and plays role-playing games with her cousin — presents a portrait of a smart girl who is just on the cusp of coming into herself. Her interactions with Avery have the right balance of awkwardness on both sides. She’s a smart girl who is maybe a little too self-aware for her own good. Aliera is one of those rare teenage girl characters that is incredibly genuine and is like someone we all knew (or possibly were).

Cavallaro’s art gives these characters strong personalities. Emotions are conveyed through simple lines and wide, open eyes reveal the characters’ wonder. His teenagers look like teenagers with small bodies and soft faces (I also like how pretty girl Sally is only a little prettier than Aliera herself, but it’s all a manner of degrees when you’re a teenager, and Aliera can’t see herself as others do). He shows the action of the fencing scenes with animated, sweeping movements. I can’t imagine this story being drawn by anyone else — he’s such a perfect complement to Yolen that I think it wouldn’t have been as good in someone else’s hands.

And because this is Yolen, elements of fantasy do come into it, perhaps unexpectedly for some, but both creators handle it delightfully. Most of the book is colored with washes of gray until Aliera’s fencing mask reveals another reality to her (in Grand Central Station, no less) where bright primary colors begin to fill the pages. Even when you know it’s coming (as I did), it’s still a powerful, transformative moment. It’s a good example of the awesome things comics can do.

I know that there’s going to be another (eventually) but for now, I’m just going to be content to read this repeatedly.

Like every other former English major in the world, I love that song. I love The Smiths. I love Morrissey’s solo stuff a little less, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have piles of it.

Unlovable Vol. 2 Buy at Amazon.com

So do you remember how awesome you thought you were when you were 15? How you thought you were doing all of these totally awesome things and you were the coolest person alive? And then, as you grew up and go older, you realized what an idiot you were.

That’s exactly what Esther Pearl Watson‘s Unlovable is like (you may remember some of her work from the back page of Bust magazine). Purportedly based on a teenager’s diary that Watson found, it’s funny and it’s painful in that “this is too true and it borders on embarrassing” way. It’s hard to know if you’re laughing with or at the characters here. You’re actually probably doing quite a bit of both.

Named after The Smiths song, Unlovable Vol. 2 (Fantagraphics, 2010) follows the latter half of Tammy Pierce’s sophomore year in the late ’80s. She gets in fights with her brother, hangs out with loser guys and her best friend Kim, who is always looking to borrow a dollar and, later, develops a crush on a senior named Ken, who may idolize Morrissey a little bit too much.

Watson’s art is exaggerated and sometimes borders on the grotesque, but it’s funny and ridiculous. I love the close-ups of the faces of the characters, done in hilarious caricature. There are also plenty of fun non-sequitur pages of ’80s motifs, like Cabbage Patch Kids and Max Headroom. This keeps from feeling too mean.

I have no idea how much Watson embellished the details in the diary she found (nor am I completely sure I buy her story — but I mean that with love. It’s great if it’s true but it’s great if it’s not), but so many things are dead-on here — the mixtape of Smith songs Tammy gets from Ken (and that she transcribes the lyrics incorrectly), how much time she spends trying to impress idiot 15-year-old boys through make-up and outfits and the digestion of cliques (including The Smokers, The Rappers, The Thespian New Wave and The Invisibles). Even if this wasn’t specifically Tammy Pierce’s high school experience, I think that doesn’t matter — it’s actually all of ours.

It’s a chunky book with glitter on the cover and inside pages done in black, white and green. The drawing spill off the page. The design of this book is delightful and does feel like something a teenage girl in the late ’80s would love.

If you want to relive part of your teenage years without much sentimentalism, Unlovable Vol. 2 is the way to go.

Now we’re going to watch another video:

Yes, that’s Neil Finn covering “There is a Light That Never Goes Out.” And yes, I’m including it just because I can.

Review copy provided by publisher.

—

I reviewed Hope Larson’s Mercury over at Geek Girl on the Street. I did link to it on Twitter, but since I won’t be reviewing it here, I just wanted to make sure I pointed to it in a more permanent manner. (Here’s the short version: It’s awesome and you need to buy it when it’s out.)

Given all of the above, do I really need to tell you I love this? I swear, it’s like someone went into my brain made a comic just for me.

But let’s get past all the initial giddiness and just get to how awesomely good all of this is.

First of all: Marvel, please please please make a poster of Colleen Coover‘s intro piece. It deserves to be hanging in every girl’s bedroom. I will buy five of them if you make it into a poster. And it’s not just me — I have friends who also want it as a poster. I love it.

Starting with a lyrical, nearly wordless tale written by G. Willow Wilson with art by Ming Doyle, Girl Comics #1 definitely starts off right — it’s feminine and mysterious but not stereotypically “girly” at the same time.

The next story by Trina Robbins and Stephanie Buscema is, however, but playfully so. Robbins tells the story of Venus trying to return to her job on earth as a fashion magazine editor, only to find things have changed, and not for the better. Buscema’s retro-inspired art is a delight and all of this is cute and romantic and way too much fun.

Valerie D’Orazio‘s Punisher story, with art by Nikki Cook is probably the most straightforward and traditional of all of the stories here, but these four pages do a lot with a little — an entire backstory is told through several, simple images — and the effect is very powerful.

Lucy Knisley‘s Doctor Octopus story is hilarious and adorable, and Robin Furth’s and Agnes Garbowska‘s steampunkish retelling of Hansel & Gretel, featuring the Richards kids is inspired and different.

Concluding the issue is a dreamlike take on the Jean Grey/Cyclops/Wolverine love triangle by Devin Grayson and Emma Rios.

I absolutely adored the profiles on Flo Steinberg and Marie Severin (also, Marvel, when you’re making a poster of Colleen Coover’s intro image, will you also manage to collect some of Marie Severin’s work into a book? Please?). These were unexpected and fun bonuses.

This is an awesome showcase of the diverse talent of female creators — and just comic creators, period. I can’t wait for the next one.

It’s a wonderful little anthology, but it’s more than that.

I started Comicsgirl way back when as a teenager because I knew there was more to comics than what most people saw. I knew that comics had some great things to offer women. But even now, especially in mainstream comics, I often don’t feel like I’m recognized. Sometimes, I have to struggle to see myself in the comics I read. But Girl Comics makes me feel like I’m being acknowledged. No, maybe it’s not going to be everyone’s thing, but I wish I could go back in time and give this to my 17-year-old self. I wish I knew a bunch of 15-year-old girls I could buy copies of this for. And for me, that makes this is a beautiful thing.

Smile

I hated every minute of having braces.

Yes, that’s a dramatic statement since I’m sure there were times I didn’t think about my braces too much (plus I did also sleep, so I doubt I was doing too much hating in my sleep). But ultimately, I remember nearly two years of aching teeth and discomfort.

I don’t regret having braces but I adored the day I got them removed. Of course, then there was the retainer.

In the autobiographical Smile (Scholastic, 2010), sixth-grader Raina Telgemeier trips and knocks out one of her front teeth (and pushed the other up inside her gums — cue the cringing now). This began four long years of trips to the dentist and orthodontist and other -ists as they try to repair her mouth.

Along the way, she grow into herself. She deals with leaving her childhood behind as she experiences first crushes and fights with friends. There’s even an earthquake. Telgemeier’s art is animated and cute. It’s curvy and dynamic and filled with exaggerated facial expressions. It moves the story along and I love the subtle changes Raina goes through as she moves from girl to young teenager.

Telgemeier is only a few years older than I am so I could relate to the time period in which she came of age. I was delighted at how she wasn’t in a particular rush to grow up (she was a girl who loved video games and The Little Mermaid) and her family is loving and supportive. This was a refreshing portrayal of being a young teenager to me, and very easy to relate to.

(The scene where Sammy gives Raina a Valentine’s Day present and it’s painful and awkward for both of them? Yes, that happened to me, too.)

The dental aspect is handled in a playful way. Something that should be horrifying is rendered as fun. Onomatopoetic words such as “snap” “poke” and “twist” accompany scenes of the tightening of braces and Telgemeier’s art is always so lovely that nothing is ever too gross. The only scene that made me squirm was when Raina had her gums cleaned. Still, I did have my teeth ache in sympathy throughout the book.

While I didn’t (thankfully!) experience the kind of dental trauma that Telgemeier did, I still saw a lot of myself in her story. Smile is a quick and fun read. It’s a lovely book for any older child worried about middle school (or braces!) and for those of us who have been there. And that just about covers everyone.

Published in 1998 by Flypaper Press/Image, writer Maggie Whorf tells the story of four friends — the contemplative Catherine, the sarcastic Amy, hippie Vicki and rock-star wannabe Stew — as they navigate late ’90s pop culture. References to Hanson, Kevin Smith movies and Dawson’s Creek do feel a little dated now, but the emotions and interactions between these friends still remains genuine. Byron Penaranda’s quirky angular style and the candy colors give the comic a bright and distinctive look. The issues also featured essays and commentaries by teenagers and women about topics ranging from dating to pop culture.

Inspired by the latest round of “women making comics for women,” I decided to track down Maggie Whorf to get her thoughts on her experiences with BoHoS via e-mail.

The comic had its origins after Whorf and two friends created a zine called “Whore-Hey,” which was “filled with the teen angst of three over-taught and highly privileged private school girls,” Whorf wrote, adding “We also said fuck. A lot.”

This, along with the fact that they were selling their zine on school grounds, led to some trouble for the three — they were suspended for three days. (The punishment “wasn’t very effective,” Whorf wrote and that the girls’ parents were proud.)

After attracting some media attention, Flypaper Press came calling and Whorf was the one to respond.

Whorf says she had creative control over the comic: “There was an amazing sense of freedom and my opinions were always respected. I was set up with a great editor and she taught me how to break down a scene and write with the panel in mind.” and that she “created the characters, the storylines and supervised the design.” She does admit “There were times I was treated like a commodity” but also understood “The story of a 16-year-old girl writing a comic book was the thing they could sell.” She wrote that she “loved it” and “felt very grown up” during the whole process.

After some movement on pitching it to production companies, Whorf headed off to college, thus ending her comic book career (for now, anyway).

I asked Whorf if she had been comic book fan previous to BoHoS and she wrote that she used to draw pictures of X-Men to sell to friends in elementary school and came back to comics through Tank Girl. She wrote that she’ll “always love Batman” and loved the Civil War run. Other than that, she hasn’t kept up with any of the other attempts to entice teenage girls to read comics, like DC’s Minx line. “That’s kind of shameful, isn’t it?” she wrote.

Whorf is currently working for “a large internet company” and writes a fashion blog call The Pudge.

I was delighted to be in touch with her and even more delighted to hear her experiences with BoHoS were good ones. As for the comic itself, it’s never been collected, but issues are pretty easy (and cheap!) to come by on eBay.

In 1994, growing up in the suburbs, if you were a girl who liked comics, there weren’t too many options. I was quickly outgrowing Elfquest and I was no where near cool enough for Love and Rockets. I still liked the superhero stuff, but I was getting bored. Strangers in Paradise was just getting started and anyway, I had no way of knowing about it (this was pre-Internet). There was no Y: The Last Man, the was no Persepolis.

Basically, being a teenage girl (not to mention one of a certain sensibility) in the ’90s who liked comics, it was pretty much inevitable I was going to read The Sandman.

Nearly 20 years after it first began (and more than 10 after it was completed), the reputation of The Sandman as being a comic girls like continues to be pervasive, to the point there’s a growing chorus of women who are saying “I don’t actually like The Sandman.” And I can understand that: After all, in the decade and a half since I first started reading it, there are many more comics out there that easily appeal to women. It’s no longer quite the go-to “my girlfriend will like this” series it once was.

It’s been years since I’ve read the whole thing (at least five for most of it, possibly 10 for some of it). So, is The Sandman still good? Does it hold up? Do I still like it?

I’m pretty sure I know the answers to all of these questions. Mostly, I just want an excuse to read the whole thing again.

So: One of the 10 collections a week until I’m done, starting tomorrow, to see if The Sandman is what I remember it to be.

Update: Here’s all of them, conveniently linked below. The cover images are from the editions I have and are obviously not current.

Preludes and Nocturnes
The Doll’s House
Dream Country
The Season of Mists
A Game of You
Fables and Reflections
Brief Lives
World’s End
The Kindly Ones
The Wake
In conclusion