It's the end of the “Mothering Invention” arc, and with its end, the finale to this series is brought forward. As we rocket towards what will be the end of the series, we see the fates of many of the gods hang in the balance as the final plan of Minerva comes into play. With her and Woden's machinations lining up the way they'd planned, it is up to the rest of them to put an end to it, if they can. With Persephone's life in shambles and the rest of the gods dead, scattered, or captured, things are looking bleak as we hit the end of the line of this part of the series.
Christopher Cantwell, creator and writer of She Could Fly, doesn’t cheat. There are several times in this third issue in which he could have. He could have taken an easy route to connect storylines, manipulated things as he deemed fit, but he doesn’t. He lets the characters take the wheel and, in doing so, every twist and turn naturally heightens and puts the characters in greater danger. This is phenomenal writing.
Joe Golem is an occult detective living in 1960s Lower Manhattan which is called The Drowning City because it’s submerged in water. They travel around in boats, like film noir characters trapped in Venice. They move from one building to another by bridges, or in the worst-case scenarios by rickety planks, and in the very worst-case scenario they have a bed of water to fall into if there’s nowhere to cross. It’s a truly inspired locale.
If looking back at Tank Girl brings you even the slightest inkling of fond memories, then you would be remiss not to add The Legend of Tank Girl to your collection. This sprawling, beautifully organized book gathers three of Alan Martin and Brett Parson’s newer Tank Girl volumes into one big-daddy bonanza of comic book madness. The book is thick with content. The book is sexy with color. For the cost of two graphic novels, you will get three beefy, war-torn, fire-fueled, no-nonsense adventures, all featuring your favorite Australian apocalyptic hero goddess. Tank Girl lives, and she lives to cuss.
Minority Monsters is an extremely cute, fun, accessible guide to sex, gender, and power. It may sound like I’m being flippant, but I mean nothing of the sort. Minority Monsters takes the reader through the fabled Alphabet Soup Land alongside our curious, well-intentioned guide— Frank Aura, the explorer— as he meets, observes, and interviews a wide variety of gender and sexuality non-conformers who are cast as a wide range of mythical beasts. From Sir Fabulous the bisexual unicorn (who is not invisible, thankyouverymuch) to Vlad the Vegan Vanilla Vampire, the text covers as full a spectrum of expressions of gender and sexual identity (and their various intersections) as one could hope to see in a comic. Each of the monsters is centered in their own right: Each is able to tell their own identity story and sometimes answer Frank Aura’s misguided questions— always with grace and often with humor.
Fans of HBO’s Bored to Death and Starz’ Blunt Talk will be refreshed to awaken on September 12th to see their very own pre-ordered copies of The Alcoholic 10th Anniversary Expanded Edition sitting on their kindles. If you are not a fan of Jonathan Ames or simply don’t know who he is, then you have this in common with most people, and what a shame! Though his work has reached a mild level of pubic familiarity, it has never broken through to the mainstream audience it deserves. Sharp wit mixed with deep, existential anguish is the measly recipe you need to make The Alcoholic, a title Ames adorns boldly as he walks us through some of the more painful memories of his life.