Manu by Kelly Fernández. Scholastic Graphix, 2021. 9781338264180. 186pp. Manu is always getting into trouble at La Academia de Santa Dominga, where she attends school with her friend Josephina and other magically talented girls. In part it’s because she’s so powerful, but she’s also very mischievous. After she causes yet another problematic and disruptive incident, Mother Dolores reminds Manu about why they’ve all been given their powers — so that they can “serve the poor and powerless” — and then Manu has to pray in front of a statue of the school’s namesake. But that doesn’t keep her from setting off and getting into more trouble. Ever since her first day at the school, folks have talked about how Manu is a demon, and there’s some hint early in the book that they may be right. (The truth comes out later.) Fernández’s illustrations are beautiful, as is the coloring. I particularly love her inks– I was lucky enough to get an early ARC from Scholastic, and the section in the back is just her uncolored line work, which is gorgeous. Plus her writing is just as good. Fernández won the Get Published by Graphix contest, and this is her first graphic novel. You can see more of her comics and illustrations at http://www.kellyfernandez.net/comics

Oksi by Mari Ahokoivu. Translated from Finnish by Silja-Maaria Aronpuro. Levine Querido, 2021. 9781646141135. 408pp. This graphic novel is a great example of how well illustrations, words, and comics’ storytelling tools can work together. Here they create an entirely immersive story set in the world of Finnish mythology. The borderless panels on each page makes it look like a kids book, but it isn’t for kids, or at least not little ones, which you might think at first glance. There’s darkness, death, beauty, magic, and huge, frightening gods and shadows inside. Magic and fire and the light of the northern lights stand in stark contrast to the dark and snowy forest. It all reminded me of a Miyazaki movie, though it’s not like any of them. Umi is a mama bear, but one of her cubs, Poorling is different, and doesn’t have claws or sharp teeth. Scaup, a tricky waterbird, teaches this cub to use her strengths, which include magic and fire. (It becomes clear that the mama bear was drawn the earth’s forest, from where her mother Emmu dwells in the northern lights, and that Emmu is angry with her.) After Umi disowns Poorling, Poorling tries to use her power to get back in her mother’s good graces, with terrible results for her brothers. It’s all related to the darkness of the giant being Mana, who was expelled from the heavens, and the freaky bipedal shadows that also dwell in the forest.

Weekend Dad by Naseem Hrab and Frank Viva. Groundwood, 2020. 9781773061085. After his dad moves out, a kid goes for their first weekend visit to their father’s new apartment. It’s clearly going to take them a while to think if it as their second home, which is what their dad is hoping for. (By the end the kid is clearly feeling better about the whole arrangement, and may even be excited about their new room.) The book includes an abridged version of a letter author Naseem Hrab’s father wrote to her when she was nine, but never delivered. According to an author’s note, she “found the letter while packing up the contents of [her] father’s home after he passed away and read it for the first time.” The whole book is a lovely tribute to him. Also worth noting: Viva’s art, particularly the way he draws people, makes the book feel friendly even when the people in it don’t look particularly friendly.   Cat Problems by Jory John, illustrated by Lane Smith. Random House Studio, 2021. 9780593302149. This cat has problems: the orange cat is in its spot, there are only a few kernels of dry food in its bowl, and there are many random noises in the house. Life is pretty boring and would be so much better if it could get outside, or just get some wet food. My favorite parts: all the mraowwwing, and the squirrel’s excited speech from outside, telling the cat how lucky it is.       This Pretty Planet by Tom Chapin and John Forster, illustrated by Lee White. Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 2020. 9781534445321. I don’t usually like picture books based on songs, but this one is amazing thanks to its slow pace and White’s illustrations, which tell a story based on the words but go well beyond merely illustrating them. (The art is so beautiful and cartoony!) Two kids explore our beautiful planet with joy and wonder, see it ruined by industry, and then make a difference by cleaning it up. There are lots of friendly animals in the book too!        

Athena: Goddess of Wisdom and War by Imogen and Isabel Greenberg. Amulet, 2021. 9781419748592. 91pp. After opening with a short guide to the gods and goddesses appearing in the book, the story of Athena’s birth from Zeus’s head, with help from her brother Hephaestus’s hammer, is followed by her competition with Poseidon to see which god will sponsor the city that eventually becomes Athens. (Poseidon is a bit of a jerk.) There are just a few stories in the book, including Arachne; Paris, Helen, and the Trojan War; and the Odyssey. My favorite bit is probably in the retelling of Perseus and Medusa, when Perseus is pursued by the headless gorgon. It sounds more gruesome than it is — Isabel Greenberg’s illustrations work well with the brief, straightforward retellings to create a deadpan tone throughout. And the gods and goddesses always seem to be smirking! It’s fun. Graphic Novelist extraordinaire Isabel Greenberg (The One Hundred Nights of Hero, The Encyclopedia of Early Earth, Glass Town) has teamed up with her sister Imogen Greenberg before on kids books about ancient civilizations. I’m ordering a few of those from the library while I wait for their next book about another great goddess.

The Thud by Mikaël Ross. Translated by Nika Knight. Fantagraphics, 2021. 9781683964063. 126pp. http://www.powells.com/book/-9781683964063?partnerid=34778&p_bt It’s Noel’s birthday, and he’s super excited about celebrating it with his mumsie. She gives him a guitar, tells him they’ll be seeing AC/DC together in Berlin, and assures him they’ll be together forever. But that doesn’t happen because that night she falls and has to be rushed to the hospital. Noel can’t take care of himself, so he’s sent to Neuerkerode, a village populated mostly by folks with developmental disabilities. (This is not obvious for while.) At first Noel is a little reluctant to join the other residents for meals and activities, but he’s soon taking part and making friends and even develops a crush on another resident, Penelope (though this irritates another dude who is in love with her, and Alice, who falls in love with Noel). The stories are all short episodes that add up to a remarkable graphic novel illustrated with a combination of inks and colored pencils. Noel’s panic at trying to contact emergency services, and the look into his imagination when he wanders alone outside the hospital where his mother is being treated are amazing moments, and the first time I clued into the idea that he wasn’t a little kid with way too much energy. My favorite part is probably the most serious, when an older resident at Neuerkerode, Irma, tells Noel her story about living in Neuerkerode during the Nazi era, and how her brother and others were taken away and never came back. (Neuerkerode is a real village, and Ross visited it for several years to talk with residents while he worked on the graphic novel.)

Perfect Example by John Porcellino. Drawn & Quarterly, 2021. 9781770464681. 132pp. http://www.powells.com/book/-9781770464681?partnerid=34778&p_bt The short comics in this collection show Porcellino at the end of high school in 1986, mostly in Hoffman Estates, Illinois. Music is a big part of his life, and so is skating. Thrifting, dropping f-bombs, fucking off in gym class, getting hassled by his parents about his hair, trying to work up the courage to approach girls, road trips with friends, a general sense of not fitting in — it all felt familiar, though I was never any good on a skate board. Porcellino’s art makes it feel as fresh as when I first read it. Highly recommended to former teens of the 80s and anyone else with good taste in comics. At the end of the book in place of an author bio is a resume and relevant information, including a brief overview of Porcellino’s life, which puts these stories in context. If you enjoy this one at all check out his other books — this is one of three D&Q’s reissues of Porcellino’s work this year.

Big Girls by Jason Howard. Image, 2021. 9781534318397. 144pp. Contains Big Girls #1 – 6. The last remnants of humanity are trying to start over in The Preserve, a city where giant women protect ordinary-sized people from giant monsters. The monsters are boys infected with the megaorganism, which changes them into mindless Jacks. Though they may not be as mindless as everyone thinks? Otherwise how would the mad scientist hellbent on destroying The Preserve get them to do what she wants? And the Jacks work together, and some even talk (though they’re not supposed to be able to). It’s clear something is about to change, but not necessarily for the better. And there’s a lot of oversized, building-wrecking violence that brings old monster movies to mind. I’ve loved Howard’s illustrations for a while (this looks more like Trees and Cemetery Beach than Super Dinosaur) and it’s great to see him both writing and drawing. This story has just the right level of crazy, and left me wanting more.

Factory Summers by Guy Delisle. Translated by Helge Dascher and Rob Aspinall. Drawn & Quarterly, 2021. 9781770464599. 156pp. At sixteen, Delisle was hired for a summer job at Quebec City’s pulp and paper mill, where his father had been working for thirty years. His first job, as a sixth hand on one of the machines producing newsprint, involved operating a crane that moved massive paper rolls, cleaning the alleyways between machines, and dealing with the large amounts of paper that broke and unspooled from the rolls onto the floor. (He had to push it into a space under the floor with something like a squeegee.) The work was tiring and noisy, and the factory was like a a deafening sauna where the only relief was a soundproof break shack. Delisle continued this summer job for years as he worked toward a career in animation and eventually comics. Many of the regular workers in the factory were a bit rough around the edges, though enough were odd and entertaining. And Delisle found a kind of joy in doing the difficult, sometimes dangerous tasks he was given, some of which required specific skills useful nowhere else. (It reminded me of the year I spent fixing cars in high school, a year during which I endured jokes, soaked myself repeatedly in dangerous chemicals, and learned to put up with the other mechanics’ senses of humor.) My favorite graphic novels by Delisle recount his time living in foreign countries: North Korea, China, Myanmar, and Israel. This one fits in well with those in that it gives a sense of what it was like to grow up in Quebec, and it’s even more personal. Loved it.