Based on Jacques Tardi’s comic series of the same name, this movie is absolutely ridiculous and charming. I did not expect to have this much fun.

Adèle is a 25-year-old journalist/novelist from early 20th century France who travels the world in pursuit of stories. Allegedly. She’s more in pursuit of her own ends — currently, a mummy of an ancient Egyptian doctor who should provide the key to saving her catatonic sister. Back in Paris, there’s some trouble with a professor who can revive the dead and a pterodactyl. I really hope, at this point, you are thinking “This sounds like the best movie ever.” It’s not quite that, no, but it’s delightful all the same.

When you get down to it, the plot doesn’t make that much sense. It pulls from both “Adèle and the Beast” (or “Pterror Over Paris” as it’s called in the Fantagraphics edition) and “Mummies on Parade” although with liberties. While Adèle’s motivation to save her sister is definitely heartfelt, it’s more of just a plot device to put her in crazy situations.

Most of the fun is watching Bourgoin. This movie is firmly on her shoulders and she’s clearly enjoying herself. While she’s absolutely gorgeous, she also doesn’t seem to mind looking silly on occasion (Adèle dons various costumes in several failed attempts to break someone out of jail). She easily transitions from high comedy to quieter moments. She’s charismatic and playful in the role.

The special effects look fairly cheesy — despite being computer generated, they have a stop-motion look, but it works for the sort of movie this is. Other than some brief, non-titillating nudity when Adèle takes a bath and an off-screen decapitation, this could almost be a kid’s movie (and honestly, no worse — and in some ways, more tame — than Raiders of the Lost Arc, for example). I doubt the costumes or sets are overly authentic, but they’re beautiful and do go far in creating the world this story takes place.

I also really appreciated there was no tacked-on romance. While Andrej (Nicolas Giraud) has a sweet, harmless obsession with her and does prove to be helpful, Adèle isn’t interested, mostly because she has better things to do at the time. That was refreshing.

This is supposed to the be the first of a trilogy, but we’ll see. The ending is either cruel or open-ended on that account, but I’m not worried about Adèle’s ability to get out of whatever situation she finds herself in. She’s a smart, resourceful and clever woman. I have the comics but I wouldn’t mind seeing more of her on screen.

(This seems to be out everywhere except for the U.S. … but if you’re resourceful, you can find it pretty easily and cheaply. And legally.)

After they left, my friend said to me “Those girls give me hope, but I do worry about the boys they’re going to scare once they get to college.”

A few weeks ago, there were an episode of the CBS sitcom The Big Bang Theory where the plot involved one of the main characters, Leonard, meeting a young woman named Alice in the comic book store (you can see her in the screenshot above).

Now, there are probably some things to complain about here — I personally found the whole meet-cute over an issue of John Byrne’s Next Men a little too insidery, but it wasn’t a big deal. And yes, to a large extent, they played up the male characters’ awkwardness at seeing a hot girl in their comic book store.

Still, even with her scant screen time (although I’ve read Alice may be back), I found Alice refreshing. I may be projecting a bit too much here, but I didn’t feel like Alice thought she was a novelty. She wasn’t going into the comic book store so nerdy guys could fawn over here. She was just going there to buy comics. (Later in the episode, we find out Alice makes her own comics, which is also a cool thing to see on a popular sitcom.)

Comic book stores can still be uncomfortable places for women sometimes and women creators are still under-represented at Marvel and DC. These are problems. But gross as that Starfire stuff was in Red Hood and the Outlaws, to me, that’s quickly going to be irrelevant.

The teenage girls in the store yesterday? They absolutely are the future of comics. As are all the young women filling up sequential arts classes to the point where they’re outnumbering the men. In that way, I think a sitcom showing a young woman choosing to go into a comic book store to buy comics for herself is a pretty big deal.

This time, though, I do want to highlight some of the awesome women who exhibited their comics at SPX. I always seek comics by women and I don’t think Small Press Expo made much of a secret of how much we support women making comics. I think it was determined that 40 percent of our exhibitors were female — we have a list! While I totally understand that a good number of female creators just want to be seen as creators (and that’s something I absolutely get), I also don’t want their contributions to get lost or overlooked.

Vezere Valley Venture! – Megan Baehr

This travelogue chronicles Megan Baehr’s trip to France to view cave paintings as she does research for her upcoming graphic novel, The Lore Keeper. Like most travelogue comics, there’s not really a specific plot but just movement from one event to the next. Baehr’s artwork is crisp and clear and her enthusiasm for her subject matter is infectious. I’d already been interested in The Lore Keeper‘s progression, but this definitely pushed me into the realm of excitement.

Bug Boys #1-2 – Laura Knetzger

These are cute. While I think Laura Knetzger still has some growing to do as both and artist and a storyteller, I admire her playfully inventive stories about a pair of beetles and their world. I definitely think the concept is there and I came to enjoy her cartoony, surreal art as I saw more of it. She’s someone I’m going to be watching, definitely.

Frog & Owl: Regret Is for the Weak – Molly Lawless

Molly Lawless did not have her baby during Small Press Expo (although there was a period of time on Sunday she was away from her table and I was trying to start the rumor she had gone into labor. It didn’t work). That’s too bad because I’d told her that if she did have her baby at SPX, her baby would get in free for life. (It’s just as well — I probably didn’t have the authority to offer such a thing, anyway.)

Frog & Owl collects Lawless’ webcomic of the same name. It’s ridiculous, weird, incisive and hilarious. There’s no coherent storyline that connect the comics — instead, it’s just quips and random observations. The oddity and the strange formality of Lawless’ art may not be for everyone (although I don’t know who you people would be), but this is definitely the best comic you’re not reading. You should feel lucky that it’s not too late to start.

What’s the Word?: True Tales of a Woman on the Go – Cathy Leamy

I will always buy comics by Cathy Leamy every time I see her. Always.

What’s the Word? is a series of vignettes all based around single words — everything from “vacay” to “multitudes.” Leamy’s spirit and sense of adventure shines through and the expressive way she draws herself and others communicates simple, every day moments beautifully. Her comics are always a good time and this was no exception.

The Bad-Ass Habit – Laura Terry

I honestly think in any other year, Laura Terry’s gorgeous and inventive “Morning Song” would’ve easily won the Ignatz Award for Outstanding Mini-Comic. I don’t have any issue about Box Brown’s win there — it was a strong list of nominees, after all — but Terry’s comic was one of those instances where it was like “Yes, this is why I’m reading comics.”

The Bad-Ass Habit … well, yes, this is why I’m reading comics, too. It’s a nun fighting werewolves! What’s wrong with you if you don’t like that?

Terry’s art is refined and powerful and this comic feels delightfully too short and the action speaks of a greater promise. I want to know more about this werewolf-fighting nun! Why is she fighting werewolves? I want to see her fight more werewolves! I’ve spent the past couple of days recommending this to everyone (and they’ve all said “That sounds awesome.”)

Yakitori – Andrea Tsurumi

I enjoyed Andrea Tsurumi’s Terka 1 that I picked up last year (and I guess, sadly, I didn’t realize there was more of it out this year …) so I was interested to see what else she’s done. She’s a young artist with a fairly clear vision, and I like weird horror that she creates. Yakitori evokes Japanese yokai fairly obviously and menacingly, and I love her well-detailed, open pages. I’m absolutely going to keep going back for her comics.

Menstruation Station: Menarche Aboard – Jen Vaughn

Jen Vaughn is one of those people who is incredibly good for comics. I am absolutely serious. You need to pay attention to this woman.

These stories deal with the various aspects of a woman’s period — from the metaphorical (“It feels like a circus down there!”) to the disappointingly practical. It’s probably uncomfortable subject matter for some (in other words, men) but all too easy to relate to for the rest of us (in other words, women). Vaughn’s art has a lovely precision that’s not too formal and retains a sense of fun. She moves between reality and weirder realms with an understated ease.

This is not something I’m blaming on PACC itself at all. While Philadelphia is only (supposedly) three hours away, we went without much preparation and most things seemed to be against us (car worries, weather, traffic). It took us much longer to get there than we thought it was going to and we didn’t really plan too much about what else to do while we were there. (And most of the people I was there to see? Yeah, I’ll be seeing them again next week at Baltimore Comic Con. So yes, silly.)

But I’m glad I went. PACC is a wonderfully run small show and I was impressed with the level and diversity of talent that was packed into such a small space. Part of me would love to see it grow — obviously, there is a good deal of interest in comics in the Philadelphia area — but the other part of me wants it to stay exactly as it is. We need small press shows like this — where almost anyone with access to a photocopier and a stapler is welcome. Shows like this remind me of what a vital, living medium comics is. And that’s pretty great.

Almost without meaning to, I only bought minicomics made by women. Maybe that speaks to my own personal tastes more than anything else, but I also think it says that there were plenty of awesome female creators exhibiting there. It was a small space, sure, but even within that small space, I got to pick and choose.

So comics!

The Fox and the Grapes – Carey Pietsch
An adorable and liberal retelling of the Aesop fable, this is fun and playful. Yes, I love talking animals, but I love the humor that Pietsch brings to this tale. Her art is cartoony and cute, but it’s elevated by her intuitive sense of movement and progression. I loved this.

Garakuta (aka Happy Sappy Fun Time #2) – Erina Davidson
The most I could find out about Davidson is that she is/was a student at Rhode Island School of Design. And part of me is like “Of course she is.” I mean no disrespect there, though — this is fun. There is a sort of freedom to the energy of it, and it’s definitely very open. Parts of it are vulgar, but it doesn’t seem like it’s meant to be shocking. Davidson has a good sense of design — her images are bold and youthful. I think she may have some growing to do in terms of subject matter, but I’m more than happy to see where she goes next.

How to Be Lolita – Jojo
The website listed in the back of this comic (www.funkyjewels.com) just goes to an expired domain/squatter page, so I don’t have any more info on Jojo. That makes me sad since this is cute and fun. She can certainly draw the details of fashion and while I think there’s a slight mocking tone (because Lolita fashion is ridiculous), there’s also a genuine appreciation for it.

Penny-Farthing – Mandy Dunn
This is a neat wordless comic, mostly about a penny-farthing bicycle and a hot air balloon. But really, what it’s “about” is irrelevant — it’s about the progression of the images and the contrast of the colors (orange and blue). I always love discovering comics like this — ones that do something unexpected and a bit different.

Virtual Date – Jen Tong
Tong’s tale of meeting people online is beautiful, heartfelt and surreal. The tumbling progression of the layouts of her pages are amazing and the sensitivity she shows her characters is impressive in the short amount of time we get to know them. She’s already a star in my mind — and she deserves to be in yours.

Holly Holly Hobby Hobby #2 – Anni Altshuler and Leah Mackin
This falls into the weird area between “zine” and “comic.” It has many of the qualities of both — but mostly, it’s composed of abstract images that aren’t exactly sequential. I love the experimental nature of this, though — mini minicomics are inserted into the pages — and there’s a definite admirable artistry to it.

No Talent Hack! The Mini-Comic – Cyn Why
I go to shows like PACC for creators like Cyn Why. Granted, I usually don’t know when I’m going that I’m going for creators like her, but they make it worth it. She had such a delightful enthusiasm for comics that is was impossible not to be charmed — not to mention she was drawing Jean-Luc Picard in glitter pens in every comic purchased (complete with a cute come-on — at the point I bought mine, she said she had to start recycling them, but I got “You’ll be Number One in my heart”). But I’m supposed to talk about her comics, right? The first half of this is about the hazards of karaoke, and range from bad song choices with too-long guitar solos to the trouble of forgetting verses to songs. The second half is her and her husband planning how awesome they’ll be when they hit their 30th anniversary (maybe robots but no plasma cannons). Why’s art has an adorable manga-inspired quality to it that’s open and delightful. After reading this and meeting her, I absolutely want to get more of her stuff.

Gingerbread Girl
Buy at Powells.com

Annah Billips is an unreliable narrator in Gingerbread Girl (Top Shelf, 2011). Of course, she’s not really the only one who’s unreliable here. In their graphic novel, Paul Tobin and Colleen Coover play with identity, sanity and what makes us who we are.

Annah, when she first introduces herself to readers, is in her underwear and says she’s a tease. She says she dates both men and women but is reluctant to label herself as bisexual. Annah may be slight manipulative — she tells readers she’s made two dates and she’s going to go out with whoever shows up first — but Coover draws her in such an adorable way, it’s all too easy to understand why she gets away with it. Annah is presented as someone who thinks she’s more seductive than she actually is.

The bulk of the story involves Annah’s belief that her father separated her Penfield homunculus from her brain and created a sister, Ginger, from it. Annah’s been on a quest to find this sister, who is, more or less, the keeper of her physiological senses. Annah’s story is not only told by her, but by her more-or-less girlfriend, Chili; Annah’s other date, Jerry; a fake psychic, Alphonse Spectra; a doctor, Greg Curling; and a few others — including a couple of animals and bystanders.

It all sounds pretty metaphorical but that’s part of Tobin’s and Coover’s purpose here. We all divide ourselves into pieces, and it’s ultimately the people who love us despite our fragments that are worth it. Is Annah crazy? Did she really have a mad-scientist father who made a sister out of a part of her brain? Does it matter?

While Coover was clearly the artist here and Tobin the writer, the book feels like a true collaboration. Coover’s art does carry the story — her characters, especially her women, are cute and appealing and the black, white and sepia tones give imbue the book with a mysterious and shadowy quality. Tobin’s dialogue is playful and he doesn’t shy away from the absurd. By putting some of these points in the mouths of pigeons or petty thieves, it keeps the story from feeling overly serious even when it is.

Maybe in the end, people who are who they are. You can put up with the fact your girlfriend is possibly crazy and a tease because you like enough other things about her. You know enough other things about her. Maybe, in the end, we’re all still growing and changing and that’s all that matters. And I like that’s what Colleen Coover and Paul Tobin had to say. I’d love to read more about Annah (she is a tease, after all, so you want to), but I’m happy to know her in whatever way this book allowed me to.

(You can read the whole book here at Top Shelf’s site, but it’s a really lovely book to actually physically hold and read.)

Two notes that are only tangentially related to the book:

• I was planning on making the switch over to Powell’s partner program anyway, but since Annah and Chili both worked at Powell’s Books, this seems like an appropriate time to start.
• And since I did buy this at Big Planet yesterday, I feel completely justified in linking to the “The Alternative Endings to Laika Show” just in case you happened to miss it when I linked to it about 500 times earlier today.

Blink: So Far
Buy on Amazon.com

There is that period of time in life just after college but before adulthood has completely set in. It’s the time where the world feels fresh and exciting. Even if not everything is possible, it does feel like there are more options than not.

There has been plenty of art created about this time — from literature to movies — and most end up with a kind of navel-gazing, what-does-it-all-mean perspective. Refreshingly, Max Ink‘s Blink: So Far (ONWARDStudio/self-published, 2011) focuses more on the freedom of this time. Focusing on two friends — Blink, a cartoonist who’s a bit a dreamer; and Sam, a realist who is maybe hiding a sensitive heart. They drift in and out of coffee shops and bookstores, take walks outside, sit around bonfires, all the while chatting and trying to figure out their lives.

It may not sound particularly thrilling — it is a book of comics that is mostly two women having conversations, after all — but Ink handles these characters gracefully. Blink and Sam tease and reassure each other as only two best friends can. Sam playfully harasses Blink for crossword puzzle answers in “Time and Few Words” but then kindly comforts her through self-doubt in “A Brief, Hopeless Case.” Ink includes details such as that Sam likes blues and Blink likes Beat poetry, giving his characters a certain realism they wouldn’t have had otherwise.

Ink’s art is airy and light. He enjoys drawing outdoor scenes and includes plenty of white space around his characters. His panels and pages never feel cluttered. He also has a remarkably joyful sense of body language and posture. Sam carries herself with a defensive strength and Blink is more open and carefree. His ability to express these characters personalities not only through their facial expressions and dialogue but also their presence on the page adds depth. Blink and Sam end up feeling less like characters and people you could easily know.

Blink: So Far is quiet and thoughtful and I’d hate for it to get overlooked just because of that. I was amazed at how quickly I became attached to these people and their stories. I can’t wait to find out more about Blink and Sam and their lives. But I’ll enjoy hanging out with them in this book until then.

Review copy provided by Max Ink.

But there are some things it does not do well. A user asks “Which graphic novels should I read?” and explains what she’s read recently — for example, she really liked How to Understand Israel in 60 Days or Less by Sarah Glidden and thought Julia Wertz’s Drinking at the Movies was really funny for the most part. She liked Persepolis OK.

She wants to know what she should read next, specifying she’d prefer strong female characters and more funny than serious.

The first two recommendations she gets are The Sandman and Strangers in Paradise. I was actually surprised at how long it took someone to bring up Y: The Last Man.

Certainly, taken as a whole, there are some good recommendations in there for her mixed in with things like The Dark Knight Returns (and I’m biased, sure, but thank you kind user who pointed her to the Ignatz winners and nominees because that is a good starting point).

And no, The Sandman and Strangers in Paradise are not bad comics. They are, for the most part, good comics. They are comics I like. But they’re not the first comics I’d recommend, especially under circumstances like this. They aren’t specific to what this woman was asking for, to begin with, but mostly, they are incredibly lazy recommendations and basically say to me “I stopped paying attention to what comics women may like about 10 years ago because we only need those two.” (When I started Comicsgirl way back in the dawn of time in 1998, do you know what were some of the first comics I wrote about? Oh, that’s right: The Sandman and Strangers in Paradise.)

There are so many great comics out there right now for and/or by women. I don’t think you have to look very hard to find them (at least, I don’t — I have shelves full of them). I personally feel like the asker of the question already has a pretty good handle on some interesting comics in terms of that. I’m sure if the typical “comics for women” were of interest to her, she would’ve found them already. After all, that she’s picked up both Julia Wertz and Sarah Glidden makes me think she knows what she’s doing more than she thinks she does.

I just think if the usual answers is all someone has, not answering the question is always a valid option, too.

Strangers in Paradise image taken from Terry Moore’s site.

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.

Aya
Buy on Amazon.com

A group of teenage girls lie to their parents to go out dancing. They worry over schoolwork and what they’re going to do with their lives. They get into trouble and face consequences of their actions.

This probably sounds like a story you’ve read. And Aya (Drawn and Quarterly, 2007) does tread familiar ground in that respect.

Except for one key thing: It takes place in the Ivory Coast in 1978.

Writer Marguerite Abouet has a clear voice about the time and place she’s writing about. She had a light touch when it comes to the stories of the title character Aya and her friends, Adjoua and Bintou, but she doesn’t shy away from presenting these girls’ reality — one that was full of class divisions and sexism.

Artist Clement Oubrerie is well-matched to Abouet’s style. His art is breezy in its suggestion of movement and his eye for posture and facial features go a long way to suggest the personalities of these characters.

In their hands, these young women are strong, even when they face adversity and the effects of their behavior (I like that while there are repercussions, the girls aren’t punished for being who they are — at least not any more than the men involved). They still have people to answer to, sure, but they are their own people, even given the constraints of the society they lived in.

Still, the story is ultimately simple, and as enjoyable as the work of Abouet and Oubrerie is, this volume doesn’t amount to much. It’s a lovely glimpse into these lives in this time and place, but it didn’t exactly linger too long. Still, I wouldn’t mind reading more about Aya and her life, so they did something right here.

Graphic Women
Buy at Amazon.com

Hilary Chute’s Graphic Women (2010, Columbia University Press) isn’t necessarily the sort of book you read for fun (unless you are the sort who reads these sorts of books for fun) It’s dense and academic and intended for that audience.

But it’s amazingly in-depth, smart, engaging and important. It’s not light reading but it’s far from boring.

Chute devotes a chapter each to Aline Kominsky-Crumb, Phoebe Gloeckner, Lynda Barry, Marjane Satrapi and Alison Bechdel. These five creators cover a fairly broad range in terms of style, certainly, but Chute’s focus is more what they have in common — all tend to interpret the trauma of their lives in a graphic narrative format (not that I’d expect anything less, but I do applaud Chute for not referring to these books as “graphic novels” because they’re not).

While Satrapi and Bechdel are fairly well-known, even outside of comics, I think Gloeckner and Barry are two important creators and I love their inclusion here. Kominsky-Crumb’s work isn’t exactly to my tastes, but her influence is obvious.

If you’re familiar with these creators’ works, much of this book may be obvious to you, but Chute’s insights and interpretations are always smart. She never over-explains her subject matter and mostly she lets the work speak for itself (many images from these creator’s comics are included) and just adds context.

Still, if you’re picking it up for a pleasure read like I did, it can be slow going. The more interesting chapters for me where on the creators I was less familiar with because I felt like I got more out of them. I already felt like I knew about Satrapi and Persepolis so I admit to skimming portions of that chapter. I don’t think that’s a reflection on Chute’s writing or research — both of which are excellent — but more that the nature of this book not quite being suited to leisure-time reading.

I guess my feelings about this book comes down to these things: Is Graphic Women a great book to read on a Sunday afternoon? Maybe not, but that depends on what you do on your Sunday afternoons. Is it incredibly cool that this book exists? Yes. Am I happy that I read it? Absolutely. I hope it makes its way onto all kinds of bookshelves — even if it’s more suited ones in a university library rather than at home.

Review copy provided through NetGalley.