The Shapes
Close Encounters of the Bob Kind 9-10
Sammy the Critic
Top 11 Eisner Nominees
It’s that season again when the Eisner Awards, the most significant comic book awards show in North America, announce all the works they’ve nominated. As someone technically part of the industry, I was eligible once more to vote for my favorite nominees in each category, and “as man can, man does” (if that isn’t an existing quote, then attribute it to me). Now does this mean I read through every single nominated work? While some may nod in disenchantment as I answer with a curt “no,” it’s a matter of practicality rather than indolence. In an awards show boasting over a whooping 32 categories with 150 works in total, unless I'm dedicating every waking breath to the task, it would be impractical for me to peruse 3/4th of the nominees, let alone all of them. To start, I’m doing this all in my free time pro bono within two weeks short of the deadline (they should give voters at least a month to make their decision like the Ignatz Awards do), not to mention accessibility was a major roadblock. Still in the Congos (where electricity is inconsistent), I rely on digital library services, courtesy of Hoopla, the Brooklyn Public Library, and NYPL to read most of the comics I hadn’t already read, even though they lacked many titles.
Ultimately, my following picks will reflect that, meaning if your favorite comic isn’t included in this list, chances are I couldn’t find it. I also won’t be including books I’ve discussed before for fairness’ sake, meaning if you want to know my thoughts on Shubeik Lubiek (Best U.S. Edition of International Material), Three Rocks (Best Reality-Based Work; Best Writer/Artist; Best Lettering), PeePee PooPoo (Best Limited Series), or The Talk (Best Graphic Memoir), then look at my Top 10 Comics of 2023 list. And finally, if you’re wondering why I chose the top 11, not every number has to be in perfect 5s and 10s. Also, there was one book on the upper tier I forgot to include until I was in the middle of writing.
11. Parasocial, by Alex De Campi (writer) and Erica Henderson (illustrator) (Image)
NOMINATION: Best Graphic Album — New
Actor of the recently canceled sci-fi series Rogue Nebula, Luke’s stardom is on the decline as he faces a dying marriage and makes money mostly from tabling at conventions for photo ops and autographs. Think of that B or C-list celebrity that’s placed in the middle of the exhibitors’ hall instead of the celebrity row. After doing a show in San Antonio, he’s pursued by a rabid female fan who’s attracted to him. Like any rational person would, she approaches her attraction by kidnapping and holding him captive in her home.
So yes, in some ways, this is your typical stalker with a celebrity crush story updated for the modern-day fandom, but it’s a doozy, owing to its unique illustrative spectrum that shifts from run-of-the-mill comic book art to shojo-esque to abstract reflecting the tonal changes and character perspectives. What sets this apart from many stalker plots is that it takes a common setting for direct celebrity interactions, fandom cons (yeah, that's what I’m calling comic cons from now on), to showcase extremities in the parasocial chasm between celebrities and their fans, who often perceive these moments in a more personal light, a relatable subject for many.
10. The Horizon Vol. 1, by JH, translation by ULTRAMEDIA Co. Ltd. (Yen/Ize Press)
NOMINATION: Best U.S. Edition of International Material — Asia
Ok, I’m technically cheating with this one since I only read it as a Webtoon and not as a collected edition, but the content in both is the same, so I might as well include it for visibility’s sake. In a land plagued with apocalyptic destruction and death, a displaced boy and girl meet and try to navigate the hostile landscape together.
A harrowing tale of survival and humanity, JH’s rough varied linework strikes a visceral emotional chord that’s equal parts beautiful and graphic. A lot is left a mystery as character development is key for now to prepare the audience for heavier revelations as the plot progresses.
9. Memento Mori, by Tiitu Takalo and translated by Maria Schroderus (Oni Press)
NOMINATION: Best Memoir
Finnish graphic novelist Tiitu Takalo writes a stunning memoir chronicling her long experience with a brain aneurysm and how it affected her mental health. Fortunately for her, Finland has free health care, so she doesn’t have to worry about the systemic dysfunctionalities Americans do, leaving us with all the time needed to follow the psychological workings of her recovery arc which candidly portrays her personal strength pulling through and vulnerabilities.
While the composition mostly abides by your orthodox panel grid layout throughout, it can get really creative with it, using it for purposes like depicting parts of a whole. Adding to the author’s sharp pacing and muted colors to convey tonal shifts, the frequent application of prolonged white space in blank, dark panels is especially effective.
8. The Out Side: Trans & Nonbinary Comics, edited by The Kao, Min Christensen, and David Daneman (Andrews McMeel)
NOMINATION: Best Anthology
What better way to honor pride month than to talk about a few good queer comics. With a moving forward and introduction by Julia Kaye (Up & Out; Super Late Bloomer) and The Kao (Mondo Mango; Magical Boy), The Out Side is an anthology containing 29 short comics from trans and nonbinary artists related to their marginalized identities, many of which are intersectional racially and ethnically. As with any collection, some entries are better than others, but I can say all of them here are made with sheer authenticity staying consistent throughout. Some favorite artists that appeared were Dana Simpson (Phoebe and Her Unicorn), Maddie Jacobus (@tacobusart), Dashi (@Apakilypse), Matteo Montero-Murillo (@mueritos), Salwa Abdus-Salaam (@dattoonie), and Kyla Aiko.
7. In Limbo, by Deb JJ Lee (First Second/Macmillan)
NOMINATION: Best Graphic Memoir
A YA coming-of-age memoir focusing mainly on their high school years, Deborah Jung Lee is a Korean-American who’s just trying to fit in their environment in suburban New Jersey while also dealing with a demanding mother. At the start, we see Deborah taking music classes which they realize they’re not interested in before switching to the arts. You might be thinking this is one of those stories where the child butt heads with their parents due to their ambition conflicting with what the parents want, but it’s not quite as straightforward as that.
What’s striking is that the author’s mom does support their artistic pursuits even paying for an art school education in New York City (out of a sense of parental obligation), yet this does not change her temperament as she continues to berate them for not meeting her high expectations and even sometimes physically abuse them when they speak back in those cases.
Illustrated in near photographic quality of slickness and blue-gray color tones, Deb’s debut graphic novel beautifully illustrates these experiences and how they played into their mental health struggles delicately with narrative nuance.
6. Where I’m Coming From, by Barbara Brandon-Croft (Drawn & Quarterly)
NOMINATION: Best Archival Collection/Project — Strips
Father of Black syndicated cartoonist Brusmic Brandon Jr. (of Luther fame), Barbara Brandon-Croft throughout her childhood would assist her father with the production of some comic strips. It was almost inevitable that she would consequently develop artistic aspirations, and thus she followed his footsteps, making history as the first African-American cartoonist to be widely syndicated in 1991. Eighteen years later since the last comic strip ran, Brandon-Croft released a curated collection of Where I’m Coming From comics alongside some extra new material she posted online.
While I do hope someday, the complete series will be released in chronological order, the choice to curate the best and most relevant ones was ultimately a better decision given that a new generation of readers (myself included) is being introduced to these strips (first impressions are always important). Featuring an all-female ensemble cast of Black characters, the comic takes a minimalistic approach artistically stripping itself down talking heads in a blank background. “Talking heads” normally has derogatory connotations when referring to the strawman variety of political cartoons, but in this case, I mean it with wholehearted adulation as it allows the audience to zero in and focus on the dialogue.
Most of the character dynamics and relationships are based on Brandon-Croft’s friendships, so the dialogue is generally very conversational. The aforementioned creative decisions, along with enclosing each installment in a single rectangular panel box, astutely communicate to the reader they’re merely observers peeking into these interactions in media res rather than unsolicited participants, a sentiment that’s further contextualized when considering how much of the general white readership was probably intimidated by the frank conversations.
Many of the comics also cover topical ground, but they avoid ever coming across as preachy soapboxing as these subjects come about from the cast’s interactions or personal contemplations never resorting to a lopsided strawman.
5. Monstrous: A Transracial Adoption Story
NOMINATION: Best Publication for Teens
Growing up in the late 1980s through the early 2000s, Sarah Myer was a social outcast in several ways. Their tomboyish interests and overactive imagination alienated the girls in her class while the boys wanted nothing to do with them. In addition, Sarah’s also a Korean-American adoptee and one of the only Asian kids in small-town America, making them stick out like a sore thumb. Throughout their childhood, their adoptive parents were genuinely supportive and transparent about their Korean cultural background. Unfortunately, those alone couldn’t help close the identity chasm of looking too Asian to be American but being too out of touch with one’s homeland to fit into that either, a predicament that many first or second-generation immigrants can relate to.
This being a graphic memoir, the author’s escape from the enigma of school life was art and related hobbies such as watching anime and reading manga. Their art skills attract positive attention from their peers while their animation/comics interests, on the other hand, alienate them further to more ridicule hence the title Monstrous.
This is another title worth adding to the YA bookshelves.
4. Swan Songs, by W. Maxwell Prince and others (Image)
NOMINATION: Best Anthology
Edited by Ice Cream Man creator W. Maxwell Prince, one of Image’s latest anthology offerings reads like the literary kin to a rhapsodic orchestra. Each piece shines ebulliently yet flows harmoniously with the connecting theme of endings be it of the world or a deteriorating relationship, most of which are presented in a visually surreal and experimental yet thematically down-to-earth, frank way.
Be it Martin Simmonds’s haunting acrylic paints in the apocalyptic “End of the World”, Alex Eckman-Lawn’s surreal collages in the introspective “End of.. Anhedonia”, or Martin Morazzo’s macabre simplicity that’s a crossbreed between Shel Silverstein and Dr. Suess in the closing tale “End of… the sidewalk,” each artist’s contributions amplifies the overall story and, by extension, the entire book to new heights in quality. Of the few Image books I’ve read lately, this has been the most experimental one since Zoe Thorogood’s It’s Lonely at the Center of the Earth.
3. A First Time for Everything, by Dan Santat (First Second/Macmillan)
NOMINATION: Best Graphic Memoir
By now, you’ve probably already noticed a pattern on this list, one heavily favoring memoir comics to which I say the heart likes what the heart likes. Plus, it’s more fun to watch artists get imaginative with non-fiction work where they’re under more constraints content-wise. My autobio biases aside, this middle-grade graphic novel recounts the time when the author went on a three-week school field trip around Europe, a milestone that marked his foray into international travel on that scale.
Written to mirror a real-life Hero’s Journey, Dan begins as an ordinary geeky suburban kid during the 80s who mostly keeps to myself while trying to survive middle school. After an embarrassing public speech, he’s terrified at the prospects of high school which his parents try to mitigate by signing him up for a world trip that he’s initially apprehensive about.
Alas, as with many protagonists reluctant to accept the call to adventure, he’s pushed into it. Under the tutelage of an understanding Mrs. Bjork who helps push Dan out of his shell as he interacts with different cultures and embarks on adventures while making new friends and even having a little romance, all of which are pure nostalgia-inducing bliss to read, especially as someone who grew up traveling a lot even though I cannot attest to ever gotten wrapped up in anything as wild as being chased by a punk motorcycle gang in the middle of the night or sneaking into a night club.
2. Spa, by Erik Svetoft, translation by Melissa Bowers (Fantagraphics)
NOMINATION: Best U.S. Edition of International Material
In a luxurious North European spa, as wealthy clients come in and out, mystery ensues as some of them, including a VIP member, gradually disappear and under grotesque transmogrifications. The less elaborated, the better because this really is a chilling slow-burn whose uncanny black-and-white visuals creep into in you as the plot advances. Think of a game of Where’s Waldo where there are a few noticeably off elements one can spot from the beginning that only become increasingly prolific.
While I didn’t care for any of these rich people’s plight, I found the owner interesting to follow as he was in disorientation of how to handle the crisis. Plus, watching an affluent person’s body horror nightmare is a gratifying experience.
1. Beneath the Trees Where Nobody Sees, by Patrick Horvath (IDW)
NOMINATION: Best New Series
If Richard Scarry did get in touch with his scary element and wrote a murder mystery, this would be the probable end result. Woodbrook is the quintessential small town where everyone is easy-going and neighborly greeting each other with a smile on their faces. It’s almost perfect on par with the likes of Mayberry except for one anomaly, Sam, a serial killer who satiates her bloodlust by making regular trips to the city to hunt for her next victim. However, what she does in the city stays there, so when someone is murdered during the town parade, this sends alarm bells because she doesn’t want to be a suspect. Thus, Sam takes matters into her own hands paws to solve the murder.
Besides the novelty of using anthropomorphic animals, the story operates sublimely on its own. The breakdown that occurs afterward and plot escalation is smooth, leaving much for conjecture, so by the time we reach the reveal, it doesn’t feel predictable. Without spoiling anything, some readers of the series have criticized its ending for taking the easy route out, but I personally loved that aspects because it subverts expectations of the antihero’s fate.
Before I close off today’s newsletter, if you’re curious how my rankings would look if I included the nominees that were on the Top Ten 2023 Comics list, then here you go (ranked from best):
Shubeik Lubeik
Three Rocks
PeePee PooPoo
Beneath the Trees Where Nobody Sees
Spa
The Talk
A First Time for Everything
Swan Songs
Monstrous: A Transracial Adoption Story
Where I’m Coming From
In Limbo