Reviews February 2013 week four

With any book like this, you fear it’ll be a white-wash: a hagiography of corporately endorsed spin; something else for Stan Lee to step in and sign even though he had absolutely no hand in its creation! Nope. I don’t see Stan Lee signing any copies of this meticulously researched muck-raking!

 – Stephen on Marvel Comics: The Untold Story

Susceptible h/c (£14-99, Drawn & Quarterly) by Geneviève Castrée.

Told not with detachment, but with a calm, measured, unadorned directness, this a powerful and genuinely upsetting story of a childhood spent largely alone.

It is, Geneviève readily concedes, pretty much her own past presented as fiction and in delicate shades of grey both literally and figuratively, for her mother has much to commend her. When she’s there. But so often she’s not, the practical necessity of being a single working mother taking her out of the house well before breakfast, leaving a Goglu so young that she can barely write with an alarm clock telling her when to leave for the bus stop to school.

One morning she misses the alarm and panics, knowing not what to do. The entire day has been thrown into disarray: there is only one school bus. That particular sequence is heart-breaking.

Tellingly, Goglu refers to her mother, father and step-father by name rather familial bond, and in her father’s case it is a nickname, ‘Tête D’Oeuf’ (egg-head). Her step-father she calls Amer, in French terms is the male equivalent of ‘Amère’, her mother, both of which translate as ‘bitter’.

Tête D’Oeuf left his wife and child for friends in Ontario, reasoning Amère could cope on her own.

“When he got back, I told him he had been right: I didn’t need him anymore.”

His ‘final’ departure on a window is witnessed by Goglu aged two, through a window one night. It’s a slow and protracted sequence suffused with melancholy. They do visit him on occasion but Goglu cannot speak English and Tête D’Oeuf cannot speak French. It makes communication much less bonding pretty impossible.

When Amer appears on the scene, he refuses to be called Dad or Step-Dad. In truth he wants nothing to do with his girlfriend’s hugely inconvenient child, telling Amère she should have had an abortion. Goglu overhears this. Goglu overhears a lot of things. For much of this book she is sitting alone – she doesn’t make any friends until her late teens – hearing other people have conversations. Amer goes even connives to make Goglu miserable, and the house becomes one big feud, culminating one night when Amère, drunk yet again (sometimes leading to her playing away), tries to make Goglu dance with her. Which may sound like fun, but it’s just too uncomfortable and embarrassing, Castrée depicting the woman like something out of The Exorcist, her head on backwards. Goglu declines time after time then finally explodes with “You drunkard”.

She is grounded for three weeks.

“I am not allowed to do anything else but stay in bed and consider what I have done…”

Fun-filled voices float in from behind her bedroom door, while Goglu is left alone to fester in misery, self-loathing and a desperation for all of it to be over for ever.

“For at least the week following one of those moments when I disobey, I am allowed a bare minimum of conversation with my mother.”

The ‘conversation’ is Goglu attempting to apologise, her sour-faced mother, back turned, responding with further castigation.

“With Amer who mostly avoids talking to me already, the house becomes almost impossibly cold. I live alone with two accountants I no longer count on.”

What ultimately came to damn Amère in my eyes is her inability to put her child first, above her relationship with Amer. Even though she threatens to leave him on more than one occasion, she always relents or goes back. Maybe it’s the poverty – they are extremely poor. Needless to say all this, and so many more wounds which will have you agog, takes its toll.

“I wonder if it is possible for a sadness to be passed from one generation to the others…” muses Goglu at the start of the book, vines wrapping themselves around her, creeping into her veins, “… if my depression could be caused by emotions accumulated by me, but also by my parents, my ancestors even. Or if those difficult moments are simply provoked by what falls onto me.
“Maybe it is just my core that is rotten… maybe my internal fauna and flora are too fragile, unbalanced. That is possible.”

As the vines threaten to overwhelm and suffocate her, she struggles hard against them, crawling desperately out from under them before finally wrenching herself free. It is not a moment of triumph, though, as she sits hunched, head in hands, the veins in feet potentially still infected, certainly livid.

“I have pulled myself so far away from my family that it is almost like I don’t belong to it anymore.”

The art isn’t stark. Both the forms and the greys are actually very soft and there’s a truly wonderful and unusual degree of space around the figures and between panels, often pages. Goglu’s face is constantly flushed with fear and anxiety while Amère grimaces almost throughout. Amer is an ugly ogre, but Tête D’Oeuf, big-bearded and bald, is actually a bit of a softie. Although just when you think you’ve got him figured out, you meet his friends…

The one caution I have is for those – and I know several – who won’t be able to read this without the aid of a magnifying glass. The writing is tiny. I like it: it’s handwritten in joined up lower case and could not complement the art or the narrative better. I’m just saying it’s tiny.


Buy Susceptible h/c and read the Page 45 review here

Paul Has A Summer Job restocks (£12-99, Drawn & Quarterly) by Michel Rabagliati –

Paul walked out of school and into a job he hated. Creative, bright but not academic, his artistic leanings were not nurtured until after the final unfair decision he moved out of the frying pan. His saviour comes in the (appropriately hirsute) form of an old friend running a summer camp for underprivileged kids. One of their counsellors has let them down, the season starts in a few days! Can Paul step in and take his place?

Of course he can. Paul leaves the next day and heads for a crash course in dealing with the great outdoors and being cooped up with adults and children alike.

Approaching his twenties, this can only be a coming of age story. Years later, in a beautifully crafted epilogue, he calls that summer the best three months of his life. It’s not just the American movie of the week “We’ve all learnt a lot from what happened here today” schmaltz (although the blind girl veers dangerously close to that) but a look at the turning point in a life.

The art is in the same historically versed area as Andi Watson, Shag or Seth (well this is published by Drawn & Quarterly) but taking generous cues from mid-sixties textile and houseware design. There’s one huge panel of a daunting cliff, rising like some faux-Polynesian Easter Island design. The clouds ruffle above, little squiggles as the climbers stare up at what awaits them.

Paul himself is an easily sympathetic character and an obvious stand-in for the author. Check out the self portrait at the back. It’s summer time here and this book is nostalgic without being cloying. If you’re the same age as me (105) you’ll see a lot of pleasing references in this charming book.


Buy Paul Has A Summer Job and read the Page 45 review here

Sandman Mystery Theatre vol 4: The Scorpion restocks (£9-99, Vertigo) by Matt Wagner & Steven T. Seagle, Guy Davis.

“A world with war on its lips. A nation of rampant mobster activity and reeking street people. A city in which beauty should be snuffed out the instant it arises. And yet — a place where beauty… inexplicably… flourishes.”

Breakfast in a fancy restaurant overlooking Central Park is where this chapter kicks off – one that will take Wesley and Dian’s burgeoning relationship one step further, because unlike most supporting characters who love the masked protagonist, she’s not stupid. And unlike most protagonists, Wesley’s no action man, but a quiet, bespectacled and reluctant member of a rich establishment he’s inherently suspicious of. He’s also paunchy and a bit of a prude, but it would have been an appalling mistake to make him any more liberal than his contemporaries – towards homosexuality, for example – just to please our current moral sensibilities. He’s in for a rude awakening in a few episodes’ time…

No, this series is steeped in social history, with an atmosphere all of its own thanks to Davis’ impeccable period clothing, unidealised forms and rough textures, and if either of the pair is the adventurous one, it’s Dian, whose instinctive compassion does go against the grain of almost everyone else around her.

More murders, then, to haunt Wesley’s dreams and force him into hunting out the culprit. This time, however, the detective becomes the target himself.

At the time of retyping there are now eight SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE books.


Buy Sandman Mystery Theatre vol 4: The Scorpion and read the Page 45 review here

Marvel Comics The Untold Story h/c (£16-99, Harper Collins) by Sean Howe.

Revealed: Superhero Superstars In Fifty-Year Comicbook Catfight!

This is like one of those celebutard gossip rags but with comics and creators you actually care about! Also: a 99.9% better chance of the dirt being true. Riveting!

With any book like this, you fear it’ll be a white-wash: a hagiography of corporately endorsed spin; something else for Stan Lee to step in and sign even though he had absolutely no hand in its creation! Nope. I don’t see Stan Lee signing any copies of this meticulously researched muck-raking!

We all know about the wider injustices perpetrated by Marvel and DC on its creators (I was going to type “earliest creators” but DC seem to be keeping that grand tradition alive right to this day/hour/minute), but I had no idea there was so much animosity, back-stabbing and outright paranoia pervading the Merry Marvel Bullpen back then. And I say “paranoia” but that doesn’t mean they weren’t out to get each other. Some of them were, and still are! The shit, it verily flies, I promise you.

Learn why Kirby finally walked (twice) and Roy Thomas as editor-in-chief too! After that Marvel went through four different editor-in-chiefs within 20 months, and it’s easy to see why. It was chaos! Unsustainable chaos drowned in ego-ridden, territory-marking wee-wee. You want to know why Cockrum did so many X-MEN covers after Byrne took over? To piss John Byrne off! He’d manage to irritate the hell out of everyone except Chris Claremont, and now it was Claremont’s turn. Deetz all here!

As to Stan Lee, there is tale after tale of betrayal. He and Ditko couldn’t agree on the direction of Spider-Man, nor the issues’ individual contents (which is rich given how little direction the so-called writer actually doled out before artists were left to create virtually from scratch). As early as issue 18 Stan was so infuriated with how much Peter Parker there was and how little fist-fighting that he settled the score in public:

“Lee’s letter-page description in other Marvel comics that month threw Ditko under the bus even as it made its sales pitch. “A lot of readers are sure to hate it,” he promised of the issue, “so if you want to know what all the criticism is about, be sure to buy a copy!””

When Stan assembled the Bullpen together to record a flexi-disc of banter, Ditko was markedly absent so Stan wrote in a seeming extemporisation:

STAN: “Hey, what’s all that commotion out there, Sol?”
SOL: Why, it’s shy Steve Ditko. He heard you’re making a record and he’s got mic fright! Whoops! There he goes!”
STAN: “Out the window again? You know, I’m beginning to think he is Spider-Man.”

“The month the record was announced, a notice ran on the first page of AMAZING SPIDER-MAN. “Many readers have asked why Stan’s name is always first on the credits! And so big-hearted Lee agreed to put Stevey’s name first time this time! How about that?!!!” The joke was that Lee’s name was below Ditko’s – and twice the size.”

Stan sure wrote the dialogue (and dictated the credits) but only after Steve and Jack Kirby had told their own stories. When the Silver Surfer appeared for the first time in an issue of FANTASTIC FOUR, it was a total surprise to Stan. Kirby’s original plan for the Surfer was to make him cold and aloof. He even began work on a solo series with that in mind, but eventually Stan hired John Buscema without consulting Kirby and turned the steely Silver Surfer into the ultimate example of emo.

Coming back to the chaos, the writing was on the wall as early as AVENGERS #16 back in 1965 when the original team was ditched in favour of Captain America, Hawkeye, Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch. You think this was a creative decision? Think again! THE AVENGERS was originally assembled as an answer to DC’s success with JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA, gathering together their most popular solo superheroes under into a single scout hut to maximise sales. But with Marvel’s key success over DC was that they created a single universe in which the characters constantly interacted, one title’s antics informing the others. But even with a mere handful of titles Stan found he couldn’t keep track of what Iron Man was doing here and Thor was doing there so he replaced those characters with their own comics with those who had none – apart from Captain America whose adventures were handily happening back in WWII.

So many decisions were born out of sheer practicality. Did you ever wonder why Captain America and Iron Man shared TALES OF SUSPENSE? Because DC controlled Marvel’s distribution at the time and forbade them to expand. The creation of Spider-Woman, Ms Marvel and She-Hulk? It wasn’t to cash in on their male counterparts’ success; it was to shore up copyrights. Iron Man’s helmet got a nose for a while because Stan glanced briefly at a single page and didn’t think there was room for a nose in one particularly flat helmet and so dictated it be so.

Miraculously, it’s all so coherently structured and dense in detail without one ounce of fat. Funny, too!

“”I was just as crazy as everybody else post-Watergate, post-Vietnam,” said Starlin, whose hobbies included motorcycles, chess, and lysergic acid diethylamide-25.”

That’s Jim Stalin, by the way, whose enduringly sharp and psychedelic nay psychotropic WARLOCK space-saga is thereby explained, as well as its reception recorded: his fan mail used to come complete with gratefully donated doobage, Valerie Singletons in the form of pre-rolled spliffs.

I’m as guilty as anyone of assuming that a career is one straight trajectory: up, up and then often away with the fairies or booted unceremoniously out of the editor’s door. But no: all and sundry were in a constant state of resignation (in either senses of the word) moving back and forth between Marvel and DC or, in the case of legendary editor-in-chief and acne-ridden obelisk Jim Shooter, retreating home after his child-prodigy antics on LEGION OF SUPERHEROES to run a branch of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Those original SECRET WARS nearly never happened. SECRET WARS 2 certainly shouldn’t have, and you’ll get the run-down on precisely how out-of-control its proceedings were.

More fun facts: DAZZLER #1 sold over 400,000 copies! The concept was originally co-conceived by Casablanca Records (Kiss) who would release both an LP with a singer adopting the Dazzler persona, and film a motion picture to go with it. John Romita Jr. was asked to design her, and he did so, in the vein of Grace Jones, “a very statuesque, international model with short hair.” Oh yeah, and that blue makeup mask. Did you ever make that connection with Kiss? She was eventually depicted as white because Bo Derek once expressed an interest in the projected film version.

As to feminism, Stan Lee came up with three titles the same day: NIGHT NURSE, THE CLAWS OF THE CAT and SHANNA THE SHE-DEVIL, “cat-suited sexpots and jungle queens”. But the kicker is Wally Wood inking over Marie Severin’s pencils on THE CAT #1 “with the heroine’s clothes completely removed and Severin – who’d had more than her fill of boys’ club shenanigans over the years – had to white out the Cat’s nipples and pubic hair.”

Also: did you know that Anthony Burgess, Kurt Vonnegut, Vaclav Havel and even Art Spiegelman were all on board to be published by Marvel at one point? And that, in a cost-cutting exercise, management once seriously suggested that Marvel Comics covers should be printed in only one colour?

Oh, there is so much here, including those lawsuits, and I’ll be surprised if this doesn’t spawn more. One of my favourite revelations was that in the first couple of years, during all Stan’s soapboxing about the Merry Marvel Bullpen, there wasn’t one! Oh, there had been a busy office life before and there would be again, but at the time Stan created the myth is was precisely that: a myth! Stan was virtually alone in the office, with his secretary Flo answering all the fan mail. You’ve got to hand it to Stan, he could weave a magnificent illusion.

Now, do you want to peer behind the curtain and smoke-screen? You’ll laugh, I promise.


Buy Marvel Comics The Untold Story h/c and read the Page 45 review here

Batman / Deathblow: After The Fire h/c (Deluxe Ed’n) (£16-99, DC) by Brian Azzarello & Lee Bermejo, Tim Bradstreet.

Brain Azzarello wrote 100 BULLETS, a dark and compelling epic of conspiracy, deception and manipulation where no one is necessarily who or what they seem. It’s a civil war, waged in secret between powerful parties in order to protect their vested interests. And so is this.

As such I aim it straight at the Milligan Human Target fans rather than the Batboys, because it contains just as many twists.

Two sequences, a decade apart, form a puzzle of identity and loyalties revolving around Scott Floyd who, ten years ago, was a black-ops International Operations agent; The Falcon, a terrorist of Gamorran extraction who hasn’t been seen since; and Max Kai, a pyrokinetic firestarter, suited and booted – and highly volatile. All three were once involved on one side or another in a botched hit on The Falcon by the I.O. soldier codenamed Deathblow, as was the enigmatic Agent Fante of the C.I.A..

Now all five have converged once more, it seems, on Gotham where Floyd is a close friend of Bruce Wayne. When the former is burnt to a crisp in a restaurant mere minutes after Bruce Wayne has left the table, it becomes personal. The only lead so far is a charred, severed hand clutching the trademark death card of a man who is himself supposed to be dead: Deathblow.

Who is really working for whom?  What is Agent Fante’s agenda?  Where is The Falcon?  And are I.O. and The C.I.A. really on the same side?  It’s a book of covert licenses, granted by institutions who will use whomever they want to get whatever they want done, and it rings pertinently true (post-Afghanistan, post-Iraq) when you consider America trained the Taliban for their own anti-Soviet ends, and were happy to accept Saddam Hussein when Iran was seen as the greater evil.

Superb pencils (early versions of which are displayed in the back) are inked and coloured by some very talented individuals (including Tim Bradstreet), to form an impressively individual and atmospheric Gotham, replete with sun-blocking stone edifices and a dense smog belching from its industrial chimneys.


Buy Batman / Deathblow: After The Fire h/c (Deluxe Ed’n) and read the Page 45 review here

Avengers Vs. Thanos s/c (£25-99, Marvel) by various.

“I’ve seen and done many strange things! I’ve understood some of what’s transpired, not all! But it’s started me thinking! … And perhaps that was all I needed!”

Yeah, maybe. Or perhaps some lysergic acid diethylamide-25 would come in handy. Jim Starlin was pretty partial.

Otherwise this was brave back then but now pretty impenetrable, buried under a mountain of hand-wringing prose so deeply purple that it tinted the skin of the Titan within. The Titan being Thanos, son of Mentor and brother of Eros, who’s set his sights on conquering Saturn’s moon and thence the universe itself. Via Earth, obviously. Meanwhile he conducts an admirably platonic love affair with Death. That woman always gets the last laugh but here she doesn’t even try to get a word in edgeways. Very wise. If she had eyebrows, they would probably arch.

Artistically, it is fascinating to witness a young Jim Starlin develop on the page, at first hindered by the ham-fisted inking of weakling Chic Stone (who never did anyone a visual favour) then embellished by the increasingly competent hands of Dave Cockrum, Pablo Marcos and finally the criminally underrated Dan Green.

Historically, it is interesting to note that this is where the good Captain’s hair does the reverse of turning grey and goes blonde instead, just as he achieves Cosmic Awareness. So there’s half your repertoire of jokes null and void.

Increasingly angry about the Titan’s transgressions, the Kree warrior is taken aside by higher, universal entities like Kronos and Eon and possibly even Eternity to be taught “enlightenment through discipline and training”. Only then can he take on an enemy who, using the Cosmic Cube which makes all dreams come true, has turned himself into a God. Thanos doesn’t make particularly good use of it, though. Scratch that: after searching so long for the Cosmic Cube, Thanos appears to manifest no plans at all. If I got my paws on the Cosmic Cube I would, at the very least, clear my credit card debt and make sure Aqua’s ‘Barbie Girl’ never, ever existed.

Meanwhile teenager Rick Jones, bonded to Mar-Vell via Nega-Bands, cries like a Brony whose MY LITTLE PONY has sacrificed its unicorn virginity to Satan’s engorged and wart-ridden cock.

It is, basically, Starlin’s earliest Captain Marvel stories rudely interjected by an awful lot of offal: the inverse of editing. There were perfectly decent collections before which wisely eschewed all the stringy, jaw-straining junk, but Marvel right now (early 2013) seems intent on publishing as many pages as possible just for the sake of a buck.

Don’t get me wrong: I have all the individual issues and lapped them up as a drunken teenager. But although this incorporates the tail end of Starlin’s exceptionally eloquent and deeply satirical Warlock Saga (highly recommended and available complete as MARVEL MASTERWORKS: WARLOCK VOL 2 h/c in colour or the more affordable ESSENTIAL WARLOCK s/c in black and white), you would be infinitely better off buying that than this, a massive, full-colour, mind-frying reprint of all the earliest Thanos appearances before THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN MARVEL then INFINITY GAUNTLET then INFINITY WAR and then INFINITY CRUSADE VOL 1 and INFINITY CRUSADE VOL 2.

The Infinity Trilogy is one of the best examples of diminishing returns I can think of.

Umm… this:

“Collecting IRON MAN (1968) #55, CAPTAIN MARVEL (1968) #25-33, MARVEL FEATURE (1971) #12, DAREDEVIL (1964) #105-107, AVENGERS (1963) #125, WARLOCK (1972) #9-11 and #15, AVENGERS ANNUAL (1967) #7, MARVEL TWO-IN-ONE ANNUAL #2, and material from LOGAN’S RUN #6.”

Do you think that Jim’s getting royalties? I hope so.


Buy Avengers Vs. Thanos s/c and read the Page 45 review here

Avengers vol 5 h/c (£22-50, Marvel) by Brian Michael Bendis & Brandon Peterson, Mike Mayhew, Terry Dodson, others.

In which Brian Michael Bendis bids a fond farewell to a team he rescued from the mediocrity (and at times godawfulness) it had festered in for thirty-odd years, turning in ten years of barely faltering triumph which surpassed even its oldest heights when drawn by John Buscema, Neil Adams, George Perez and John Byrne. And he does so in a three-page letter I would have physically applauded if I’d had somewhere handy to rest my wine glass. He rekindled a childhood crush I never thought I’d feel again.

It began with the heart-rending, jaw-to-floor interface called AVENGERS DISASSEMBLED before introducing the irreverence of Spider-Man and Luke Cage for a completely fresh dynamic in NEW AVENGERS VOL 1: BREAKOUT. Magnificent, dancing dialogue matched by some formidable artists like David Finch and Mike Deodato who appears to be no longer Jr.

It is a mere observation, then, that the run should really have come to a breathless close at the more natural and satisfying finishing line that was NEW AVENGERS: SIEGE, for the Avengers And New Avengers books which followed felt and smelt like an overextended, postprandial burp. Don’t get me wrong: much of it gave me great pleasure for Bendis is a very funny guy. I’m just saying that NEW AVENGERS: SIEGE was a more natural conclusion which ended on a note so high I could not possibly sing it. The final pages here will still make you smile, however, and glow with a cuddly-wuddly warmth. I did not just type that.

Here we go then: the two annuals in which Wonder Man finally loses his temper and takes it out on the team who took him in after forgiving him his first transgressions fifty years ago, calling them a force for destruction before, you know, destroying millions of pounds worth of property and probably causing some traffic jams. Basically trying to kill them. Again. None of which is remotely credible, let alone the fact they’ll forgive him that too. Moving swiftly on, it’s then that breakfast is rudely interrupted. It’s always breakfast isn’t it? Nice sense of symmetry.

“Guys! The Avengers Emergency Signal just went off.”
“Is there an emergency?”
“It’s the signal only Avengers can broadcast.”
“I don’t know.”
“Is that – what is that? Outer space?”
“No. No, I think – I don’t know. But I think it’s… inner space.”
“There’s an Avenger in inner space?”
“Who is it?”



Buy Avengers vol 5 h/c and read the Page 45 review here

Arrived, Online & Ready To Buy

Reviews already online if they’re new formats of previous books. Otherwise the most interesting will come under the microscope next week, while the rest will remain with their Diamond previews acting in lieu of reviews.

The Art Of Osamu Tezuka: God Of Manga s/c (£19-99, Ilex) by Helen McCarthy

Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal: Creation Myths vol 2 h/c (£14-99, Archaia) by Joshua Dysart & Alex D. M. Sheikman

Ravine vol 1 s/c (£10-99, Image) by Ron Marz & Stjepan Sejic

Batman: Black Mirror s/c (£12-99, DC) by Scott Snyder & Jock, Francesca Francavilla

Catwoman vol 2: Dollhouse s/c (£10-99, DC) by Judd Winick & Guillem March

Ultimate Comics Iron Man s/c (£12-99, Marvel) by Nathan Edmonson & Matteo Buffagni

New Avengers vol 5 h/c (£18-99, Marvel) by Brian Michael Bendis &  Mike Deodato, Michael Gaydos, Michael Avon Oeming, Carlos Pacheco, others

Marvel Masterworks: Captain Marvel vol 1 (£18-99, Marvel) by Roy Thomas & Gene Colan

Daredevil vol 4 h/c (£14-99, Marvel) by Mark Waid & Chris Samnee

X-Men: Wolverine / Gambit s/c (£10-99, Marvel) by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale

Bleach vol 55 (£6-99, Viz) by Tite Kubo
The big news this week is that Page 45’s Comicbook Of The Month is now being subscribed to by the National Art Library at the Victoria and Albert Museum! To stay that I’m stocked would be an understatement. On a personal level, it’s one hell of a validation; I think it’s also pretty good news for comics.

Many thanks for Marc Ward for sorting that.

This new BOO! horror comic for kids looks cool! We are definitely on board and you can preorder now via phone, email or in person.

Eddie Campbell pops up in the Comics Journal to deliver Campbell’s Rules Of Comicbook Comprehension wherein he argues why those claiming they can’t read comics may be experiencing some difficulties. Regardless of whether you agree with all of it, it’ll give you much pause for thought, particular the Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons example.

And lastly this week Dan Berry has recorded yet another entrancing Make It Then Tell Everybody interview, this time with Kate Brown (FISH+CHOCOLATE, PHOENIX COMICS etc.) whose laughter is lovely and will make you smile your head off.

One Response to “Reviews February 2013 week four”

  1. Reviews February 2013 week four « Escape Pod Comics Escape Pod Comics says:

    […] PHOENIX COMICS etc.) whose laughter is lovely and will make you smile your head off. The post Reviews February 2013 week four appeared first on Page 45 | Comics & Graphic Novels | Independent Bookshop | […]

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