Page 45 Review by Stephen
There are eyes everywhere on the cover, most of them gleaming in gold - as are the stars, the debossed title, and some of the five-leaf clover designs.
I don't know why there are five-leaf clover designs: Ravina proves singularly unlucky in spite of her good intentions, the friendships she makes, the good deeds she does and the wrongs which she rights.
If you're looking for a coherent moral or message, though, I think you'll be disappointed. Perhaps men are idiots (except those that wear dresses), prideful, deceitful and quite happy to wager their wives in a drinking contest in the hope of winning riches. Others like their bare bottoms being whipped.
Each to their own, I say, but if you're looking for a new Young Readers graphic novel for bed-time reading, you'll also be disappointed. This is Junko Mizuno! She's neither a traditionalist nor renowned for being kid-friendly.
It's more of a sensual experience instead, rich in illustrative wonder, taking delight even in the environs of a garbage tip which is where Ravina grew up, cavorting with crows who are happy to pluck beetles from her hair then brush it all silky-smooth. There's plenty to eat and plenty to play with. It's amazing what people through away once it's passé. What's wrong with a car boot sale?
Alas, she can only speak crow so when a naked old woman hobbles her way, pricked like a pincushion with needles, and bequeaths the young girl her magic wand along with the words required to activate it, Ravina doesn't understand a word she has said. Still the magic wand's pretty, as is the old, tortured witch, especially once the wriggly, writhing, slippery, slimy maggots start slithering out of her empty eye sockets.
You see? Garbage dumps! They are amazing places, full of such wondrous curiosities! Ravina would very much like to have remained there, thanks, but then men come along and it all goes horribly wrong.
Mizuno has revelled in traditional, all-ages storybook elements like giant, flying owls and added her own brand of bonkers. There is neither rhyme nor reason as to why the giant, flying owl is so intent on solving a crossword puzzle. It just is.
The king is very much the traditional fantasy king with puffy pants, white stockings, tiny feet, a tidy neck frill and bejewelled crown sitting atop a quite ridiculous hair-do. It's not half as ridiculous as his moustache, though. All the men are rocking ridiculous moustaches: the courtiers' look like crusty nose scabs and the rich man with his friends who first play host to Ravina in exchange for her services as a hostess look like the sort of psychedelic aristocrats as re-imagined by the Beatles circa Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Even the bloke who loves to wear pretty dresses has something questionable going on round his mouth.
I promised you sensual and it's already there in the hair and the bows and basques and flowers - and goodness, there are such a lot of serpents! - but once pretty-dress-man introduces Ravina to the unexpectedly efficacious benefits of being blind-drunk, Ravina remembers those magic words and acquires quite an appetite. Shame she doesn't acquire a napkin too, for she dribbles and drools her way almost until the end of the book. Nobody does dissolute quite like Junko Mizuno.
It's a beautiful book, flowery, beautiful and baroque with black rats, bats and beetles galore and, although the reproduction here is perfectly exquisite, I'd like to see a deluxe edition with the gold-studded highlights on every page actually printed in shiny gold. Maybe the wine could be real wine as well, please, and the bare bottom actually bottoms.
Did I mention that this isn't for young readers?