Blacksad

Blacksad by Juan Diaz Canales, art by Juanjo Guarnido, 176 pages

Told in classic noir style, Blacksad follows the escapades of 1940s-era private investigator John Blacksad as he looks into three separate cases: the murder of a Hollywood starlet (who happens to be his ex-girlfriend); a missing black child during a time of high racial tensions; and a murder-filled Communist plot complete with a McCarthy figure. The stories are interesting, though sometimes a bit too on-the-nose, and the artwork is phenomenal. Guarnido's attention to detail is astounding, and his style is perfect for this noir story.

That said, I wasn't a huge fan of this episodic graphic novel, and that all lies in one issue. Blacksad and the other characters are animals. Rather, their heads are animals, but their bodies are mostly human. Blacksad is a cat, the McCarthy figure is a cocker spaniel, and everything from mice to lizards to polar bears feature in these stories. For some, this isn't a problem (the series, which was originally published in France, has received many accolades), but I couldn't wrap my mind around a mostly nude woman with a cat head.

But if you can get past the human-animal mash-up, this would be great for fans of noir.

The Unwritten: Tommy Taylor and the Ship That Sank Twice

The Unwritten: Tommy Taylor and the Ship That Sank Twice by Mike Carey, art by Peter Gross, 160 pages

This is the seventh volume in Carey and Gross' Unwritten series, which focuses on Tom Taylor and the Harry Potter-esque Tommy Taylor book series written by his father. The series explores both Tom and the cult of Tommy, as well as the lines that may or may not be drawn between fiction and reality. In Tommy Taylor and the Ship That Sank Twice, Carey and Gross provide a much-needed backstory, interspersing the story of Tom's childhood with the plot of the first Tommy Taylor novel.

While I don't normally recommend reading series out of order, this may be the exception. The Unwritten is a confusing but compelling tale, and it's possible that reading this volume first would provide the foundation to make reading the rest of the series much less confusing. That said, many of the earlier novels are dedicated to Tom's confusion and his attempts to understand his life and how it intertwines with Tommy's, so perhaps the relative clarity provided here is simply a manifestation of Tom's own sense of understanding.

I would recommend this series to fans of literary graphic novels, such as Fables, as well as to fans of Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next series, though this is much more solemn than either of those series.

Fangirl

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, 438 pages

Cath is a major fan of the Simon Snow series. MAJOR. Such a major fan, in fact, that her fan fiction has become some of the most popular Snow fanfic on the Internet, with thousands of readers checking in daily to see if she's posted another chapter of Carry On, Simon. It becomes a bit of a problem when the introverted-to-a-fault fangirl heads to college. She's got a weird roommate with a boyfriend-type who never seems to leave, a twin sister who's trying her best to drink everything in town, and an English teacher who doesn't believe in fanfic. Throw in homesickness and a dad with some serious psychological problems, and you've got a perfect storm of awkwardness for our protagonist.

Rowell does a great job writing about awkward, imperfect teenage girls, particularly those who don't really know how to recognize their feelings. She did it in Eleanor & Park (which is an excellent study in teenage love), and she does it again here. Most of the characters in this book get a full, three-dimensional treatment: Cath is shy and awkward in real life, but online has boatloads of confidence. On the other hand, her sister Wren seems to ooze confidence and attitude, though there seems to be something lurking under that exterior. Even the boys who manage to enter orbit around Cath are realistic characters (though if I'm going to nitpick, they might be just a *tad* too good-vs.-evil. But just a tad).

Also noteworthy is the structure Rowell chose for this novel. She weaves Cath's story in with excerpts from the Harry Potter-esque Simon Snow series, and from Cath's fanfic writing. In doing so, the reader gets a glimpse of the object of Cath's obsession, as well as added insight into her personal growth. What's really remarkable is how Rowell's writing style changes, depending on who the "author" is, whether it's Cath, Simon Snow's author, or Rowell herself.

Altogether, a well-done book. Good for fans of Rowell's other works, of fanfic, or for anyone who either is, will be, or remembers being an awkward teenage girl.

Maggot Moon

Maggot Moon by Sally Gardner, 279 pages

Standish Treadwell lives in a nightmarish totalitarian state during an alternate-past 1956.  His parents, virtually all of his neighbors in Zone 7, and now his best friend, Hector, have disappeared.  The Motherland is embroiled in a race to the moon that is shrouded in secrecy.  Despite having a learning disability (dyslexia) that places him far behind his classmates, Standish is a collector of words - a dangerous position in a state where the Motherland punishes any perceived difference or defect.  Like the rest of his world, school is a terrifying and brutal place for Standish.

Sally Gardner’s sparse language and short chapters won’t scare off reluctant teen readers from this complex and deeply affecting story.  Maggot Moon was the recipient of the 2013 Carnegie Medal (a British award recognizing outstanding children’s literature – similar to the Newbery Medal).

The House of Hades

The House of Hades: Heroes of Olympus Book 4, by Rick Riordan, 597 pages

The House of Hades is Riordan's fourth book in his Percy Jackson spin-off series, The Heroes of Olympus. While the original Percy Jackson series focused entirely on Greek mythology, this series combines Greek myths and gods with their Roman mythology counterparts, as well as their modern demigod children. The House of Hades picks up after the cliffhanger ending of Book 3, with a group of Roman and Greek demigods midway through a quest to close the Doors of Death and ultimately stop Gaea from rising and destroying the world. Percy and girlfriend Annabeth are traversing Tartarus to close the doors on that end, while their friends struggle through countless mythical monster encounters in an attempt to reach the House of Hades and close that set of doors, but only after Percy and Annabeth have come through them.

I've been wondering for quite some time (probably since about halfway through the original Percy Jackson series) when Riordan was going to run out of myths to retell and mythological creatures to toss in his heroes' path. While he's found a few new ones for this book, Riordan has also brought back some baddies to reprise their antagonistic roles. Thankfully, the return of such creatures and gods doesn't come across as a creative failure; rather, the encounters, while steeped in vengeance, are fresh.

Something else that freshens this series is the alternating points of view among the seven demigods on the quest. It allows the reader to not only check in on what's happening with all of these plot strands, but also to see situations through different characters' eyes and personalities. Riordan does a good job of letting the voice of these characters come through, and I'm intrigued to see how he'll wrap this story up in The Blood of Olympus.

Maisie Dobbs

Maisie Dobbs by Jacqueline Winspear, 294 pages

Set primarily in 1929 with flashbacks to World War I, Maisie Dobbs follows the titular character as she sets out to become a private detective. The fact that Maisie is a woman detective is enough of an anomaly for the time period, but she's also got a therapeutic approach to her profession and a background that takes her from a job in service at a stately manor (think Downton Abbey) to attendance at Oxford's college for women to nursing wounded soldiers in the Somme.

There is a mystery in this book (a client seeks her help to prove that his wife is cheating on him, which eventually leads Maisie to another, bigger mystery), but that doesn't seem to be the main point in Winspear's novel. Rather, the goal of this gentle mystery seems to be the introduction of Maisie as a character, and Winspear does that well. Maisie comes to life as someone who defies stereotypes, both by forging ahead in a "man's" career choice and by still being unsure enough of herself that she doesn't know how to describe her job on the metal plate outside her office. The other characters don't seem nearly so three-dimensional, though one would hope that they continue to develop as Winspear's Maisie series continues. Recommended for readers who enjoy historical fiction and a gentle mystery.

Flora & Ulysses: The Illuminated Adventures

Flora & Ulysses:The Illuminated Adventures by Kate DiCamillo, illustrated by K.G. Campbell, 231 pages

Kate DiCamillo has written books in almost every kid lit format imaginable: picture books, early readers, chapter books.  For her latest work, she tackles the hybrid comic book/illustrated novel format popularized by Jeff Kinney’s Wimpy Kid series.  The result is the charming Flora & Ulysses, a tale of unexpected friendships, a superhero squirrel and the joy of poetry (and giant donuts!).  The plot is adorably absurd - Ulysses the squirrel gains his superpowers and loses most of his fur after an unfortunate encounter with a rogue vacuum cleaner - but also explores the ways that different characters cope with loneliness and feeling unwanted.

The comic book/illustrated novel format presents a great hook for reluctant readers and the short chapter length breaks the story up into easily digestible chunks.  Flora’s expansive vocabulary may present issues for some young readers, but DiCamillo assists by seamlessly sprinkling in context clues.  K.G. Campbell’s illustrations are presented in comic panels in a style that favors soft shading over the traditional bold lines of comic books.  The pictures compliment the sweetness of the story nicely; my favorite illustration comes toward the end of the book and shows Flora hugging Ulysses (it may even have caused me to tear up a bit).  

Flora & Ulysses made the National Book Award Longlist for Young People’s Literature in September and is garnering a lot of Newbery Award buzz in the kid lit blogosphere – check out some other reviews:

Fuse8 - Review of the Day: Flora and Ulysses by Kate DiCamillo

Heavy Medal - Flora & Ulysses: The Illuminated Adventures (or, The Pictures Question)

Food Rules: An Eater's Manual

Food Rules: An Eater's Manual by Michael Pollan, illustrated by Maira Kalman, 203 pages

Pollan has become something of a food guru, with his bestselling In Defense of Food and The Omnivore's Dilemma. Food Rules presents some simple suggestions culled from Pollan's books, as well as from his readers and others in the organic food, slow food, and nutrition community. Pollan presents 83 "rules," as well as simple explanations. For example, "don't eat anything your grandmother wouldn't recognize as food" (warning off the Go-gurts of the food world) or "it's OK to eat junk food, as long as you make it yourself" (the idea being that junk food takes so much work to make deep-fried Twinkies that you won't make them very often). He notes in the foreword that these are rules that he's come up with, but they're more suggestions, and he doesn't expect anyone to abide by all of them. Rather, he hopes that a handful will stick with his readers, and make them think the next time they go grocery shopping.

Pollan's rules are punctuated by some fantastic artwork by Maira Kalman. I'll admit that Kalman's work is a large reason that I picked up this short volume. I was captivated by her work in Daniel Handler's young adult novel, Why We Broke Up, (which is also worth picking up), and in this book, she doesn't disappoint. Check out this short volume, and enjoy Kalman's quirky, funny art working perfectly with Pollan's simple writing style. It's well worth the hour that you'll spend reading it.

Marvel: 1602

Marvel: 1602 by Neil Gaiman, illustrated by Todd Klein, 248 pages

What would happen if the Marvel superheroes and villains showed up nearly 400 years early? I don't know who has ever asked that particular question, but Gaiman answers it in Marvel: 1602. This graphic novel focuses on the emergence and persecution of the "witchbreed"-- which includes the Fantastic Four, the X-Men, and Daredevil -- and the work of Queen Elizabeth's head spy Nicholas Fury and her court magician Dr. Stephen Strange as they attempt to thwart assassins sent by a villain named Doom.

OK, I get that this sounds really weird, and yeah, it kind of is. That said, Gaiman presents this odd story in a fascinating way, leaving behind the silly names and skin-tight garish outfits we usually see on superheroes. There are plenty of hints, however, in the names, clothing, and chosen colors of the characters to make it obvious who these people would be 400 years later. Even someone with very little knowledge of superheroes (like me) can figure out that Carlos Javier, a teacher who can't walk but has the ability to control people with his mind, is actually the 1602 version of Charles Xavier.

In the afterword for 1602, Gaiman notes that he chose to set this Marvel story in the distant past because he wanted to try a superhero story without the guns, bombs, death, and destruction that is so common in modern superhero tales. This is an odd story, but it works. Gaiman should be commended, as should Klein, whose visual design of these characters is simply fantastic.