I know. I’d say, “Oops, I did it again,” but it was less of an “oops” and more of a tsunami of life attacking from every possible direction and angle both incrementally and simultaneously until I lost the ability to think let alone read or form sentences about that which I had read. But, I’m back and intend for this here catch up to be a much more regular thing. Of course the best laid plans etc, blah blah blah.

Anyway.

c. 2021 Marvel

Captain America selected by Roy Thomas (Folio Society)

When the Folio Society offers one of their anthologies, I know I’m going to be getting something gorgeous but every time, I’m blown away by how utterly stunning the book is from slipcover to cover to layout to ink to endpapers to print quality to paper choice. Every choice is the perfect one not only aesthetically but for the individual collection and the characters who live and breathe within it. This Captain America collection… literally rendered speechless when I cracked it open and did a first pass through it and even my husband, an avowed Marvel hater took his time admiring the volume and eventually muttered an, “Well, I mean, it is Cap,” of approval.

Beyond the design and layout of this particular book (which should win so many awards) kudos to the team for rendering 80 year old panels so clearly and in such immaculate detail. Remember, these are reprints from the days before digital, many of them pre-comics as currency; they were made to be read, loved, leant, traded, and eventually tossed. The color palate was limited, the paper was thin, and everyone tore out the pin-ups. Preservation was a box under the bed and maybe in the attic (my father has never forgiven his mother for tossing the one that had his Spider-Man #1). I mean, sure, the company had archives but still. And yet here we are, clean edges, legible text, terrible villain mustaches, Namor’s scaly trunks, and all the magic that was.

The most important part of Folio Society’s Cap anthology, though, is that we get  a complete look at who the man, the hero, was, is, and will be and who he isn’t and never was. He isn’t a mindless, flag waving, government automaton. He doesn’t represent the nation that was written down on paper in the way back by people who were comfortable owning other people. He’s a man who values life over doctrine. He punches Nazis and racists. He would rather walk alone than sign his name to a document that would force his teammates to register with the government. He’s the best of us. He’s what we could be if we were willing to try.

He also zombies in old castles and maybe turns into a werewolf. Look, Cap gets to have fun sometimes too.

Gray by Arvind Ethan David, Eugenia Koumaki, Diana Greenhalgh, Joana LaFuente (Clover Press)

I bet you think you’ve read enough Portrait of Dorian Gray adaptations to last a life time.

You’re wrong because I have one more for you.

No, I am not kidding.

Yes, seriously.

New York City Detectives Wutan and Bracknall have an issue on their hands: two women are attacking rich, entitled, white men across the city, humiliating them at their own… predilections, and stealing their lunch money. The men are incensed. The cops are amused but don’t have much choice other than to do their jobs but the moment they find a lead, the suspects escalate, kidnapping a slimy, self-serving baron with a history of abusing his ex-wife. The detective’s search for the baron leads them down the deep rabbit hole of an intricate revenge plot and its mastermind: a woman named Dorian Gray.

I know. I know, I know, I know, it’s not just a Dorian Gray adaptation, it’s one of the omnipresent “make that thing into a procedural” Dorian Gray adaptation but hear me out: sub-genres become popular because when they work they really, really work and Gray really, really works. It’s offset enough from the source material to nod without kowtowing, borrows from the characters enough to remain connected without being copies, absorbs the ethos off Wilde’s work without harnessing itself to tightly to the conceits. It also maintains the existential dread of short story while adding a squish factor of 11 which is like, “ew” and also “yaaas,” because while the real world has rules but some people just have it coming and the dudes who get it in Gray are some people. I’m intrigued to see where the relationship between Wutan and Gray goes – there is nothing I love more than a righteous villain with an honor system — and how the whole house comes down. Book 2 when?

The Witch and the Beast Vol. 5  by Satake Kousuke (Kodansha)

Gah! We finally find out how Ashaf and Guideau met and it is. About. Damn. Time. A quiet village! Innocent children! Ashaf does a teach! And a protecc! And Guideau enters into a willing collaboration with a witch! Is it the end of the world or the beginning of a beautiful and snarky partnership?

Also, there’s a side story about dressing for the dimension you want to blow the fuck up and it is… so much yes.

I’m still really digging this one which speaks to Satake’s abilities as a writer; I’ve fallen out of a bunch of series by volume 5 but The Witch and the Beast keeps surprising me both with twists in the main story line and in the volumes that divert to follow other members of the Order of Magical Resonance. I could do with fewer pages of explode-y swirls but fair play, drawing actual fighting bodies is hard and I’ll live with it if it means I get more of the crew and their bloody, weird shenanigans.

Dick Fight Island by Ike Reibun (SubLime)

I am a huge fan of SuBLime’s books Given and Toritan and I’ve started jumping into their back catalog (or trying anyway, this whole manga boom thing is cramping my habit though it is preserving my bank account). I also keep an eye on new releases and the title of their latest was hard to ignore.

Yes, it’s actually called Dick Fight Island. 

Okay, listen. Listen. First of all, there’s a thirteen year old boy in my head named Chad who wants to be captain of the high school, varsity lacrosse team someday who was not going to let me sleep until he found out exactly what a book called Dick Fight Island was about. He was not disappointed when, as advertised, it was mostly about dudes battling for kingship of an unspoiled island paradise by pairing off to see which of them can make the other one cum first. While wearing elaborate armor. On their dicks. Kind of like Themyscira but like, not at all.

The pansexual lady and art historian in me thinks dicks are fucking hilarious both anatomically and as artistic renderings and found the blatant display of them both in armor and out to be extremely humorous. I actually laughed so hard I scared the cat and almost fell off the couch. There are also a lot of butts. They are also funny. One of my best friends and I were discussing not a year ago that one never ages out of well-constructed body humor and you know what, it’s true. I mean, maybe you did but I haven’t and I’m not ashamed. The armor designs are amazing. I… would never have thought of any of them and hats off because my brain is pretty creative and each and every one of these dudes was wearing something more outrageous than the one depicted in the previous panel.

And then, the unexpected bit: Dick Fight Island has three really lovely romance sub-plots running through it. Not traditional ones, but tradition is boring anyway. They are, however, full fleshed out, fully realized love stories between characters with hopes, dreams, fears, and motivations. Characters who are willing to take risks for the person they love, to give up something precious to in exchange for their partner’s happiness, people who look at the mayhem around them and think, “Yeah, alright, for him.” These small, delicate moments could easily disappear in the chaos of the trunk story but Ike balances them so well that they shine instead and I what can I say? I must stan.

Alright. Plans for next time: Perfect World Vol. 6, some graphic histories from Abrams Megascope, and we’ll see how far I can get it JiuJitsu Kaisen. Subject to deliveries of Stuff I Sleep Ordered.