There’s little left to be said about Jeff Smith’s superlative Bone.  If that’s the case, then why write anything at all?  Because today, Scholastic’s Graphix imprint has released Crown of Horns, the ninth and final volume in their color collection. Coming six months after Treasure Hunters, this is a longer book, 212 pages, but with no change in cover price which is a treat for the buyer.

With Crown of Horns, the entire saga is now in a uniform color set, aimed at school children.  The first volume was released in 2004 and we’re finally here at the conclusion.  Readers new to the adventures of Bone and his cousins now have two choices: the 1300 page black and white saga for about $40 or, the nine color volumes which all together would cost about $90.

What’s lovely is to see Jeff’s work take color so well, especially in the capable hands of Steve Hamaker. The color enhances the atmosphere and story telling, never overpowering the characters or settings.  It’s one of the finest jobs I’ve seen in quite some time.

One thing the color volumes also have going for them is that Smith’s spelling errors are corrected, making it the cleanest version of the story yet, entirely appropriate for Scholastic’s market.

When first meeting the characters, as I did in 1991, you have little idea of their species or nature but quickly they become distinct, memorable characters and you realize you don’t care about their genetics.  Instead, they exist in their little village until they set out into the great world and discover adventure, war, love, humor, and new insights.

Home, in this case Boneville, is a theme, much like in Lord of the Rings, and the theme is a major point in the final volume. And like Tolkien’s world, the Bone-people find themselves co-existing with humans, dragons, and other creatures.  No explanation necessary, just a delight in seeing the interactions.

Smith spent 1300 pages with these characters and continually revealed new tidbits about them without seeming contrived.  The storyline holds together nicely and each of the nine Scholastic volumes works with beginning and ending.

If the volumes could benefit from anything, it would be either a recap of the previous books to this point or a character key to help the readers.  Of course, you sit and read them repeatedly; they get committed to memory so maybe that’s why they’re missing.

Bone is recommended reading for comic book and graphic novel fans of all ages and essential reading for those just discovering the artform and are curious as to what’s out there.
 

These two books have very little in common on the surface, but, beneath that…they deeply have little in common. But they’re both fairly new, not all that well-known, and self-published by their respective female creators (with an asterisk in the first case, which I’ll get to) – so that’s good enough for me.

The Martian Confederacy: Rednecks on the Red Planet, Vol. 1
Story by Jason McNamara; Art by Paige Braddock
Girl Swirl, July 2008, $15.00

[[[The Martian Confederacy]]] cannot be adequately described by the phrase “The Dukes of Hazard on Mars,” but it’s a good first stab. Our two heroes here aren’t brothers – one of them, Spinner, is actually an anthropomorphic bear, though the other, [[[Boone]]], is the expected tough-but-tender he-man type. And the closest thing to a Daisy Duke is Boone’s roommate, the android woman Lou – come to think of it, maybe she fits better in the “other Duke brother” slot.

Well, anyway, this is a story of beaten-down good ‘ol boys and girls battling the corrupt leadership – as personified by “the Alcalde” (whose name I can’t find, if it’s ever given), who calls himself “the legislative, judicial, and executive arm of Martian law” and also mentions that he’s the only lawman on the planet, though he scrounges up some additional muscle late in the book when he needs them. (Even assuming that his official position does give him power, he’s amazingly arbitrary and capricious in his “law enforcement” – the kind of cop who doesn’t survive long in a society where anyone other than him has a gun. I’m deeply surprised that he hasn’t woken up dead a dozen times before this story begins.)

Mars is owned outright by a small number of really nasty corporations, who keep the entire population – how large a population is not quite clear – in essentially indentured servitude, as the rich tourists come from Earth during the high season once a year. (Implying that the writer McNamara either doesn’t know much or doesn’t care much about orbits.) It’s 3535, after the usual humorous loss-of-all-data and resulting reborn society with quirky touches like “shatners” for money. And there are lots of anthropomorphics, who may or may not be an underclass even within the downtrodden Martian population. (They have their own bars and the Alcalde hates them – but plenty of groups have their own bars, and the Alcalde hates everyone.) And even odder things, like the woman Sally, who has heads and arms growing out of each end of her torso and split personalities to match. (Try not to think too much about her plumbing issues – that way lies madness.)

(more…)

Let’s say comics fandom congealed in the early 60s, or nearly 30 years after the first comic book was published. That means organized comics fandom has been around more than half again that span. We have our own history, and much of it has been chronicled ­­– brilliantly ­­– by Bill Schelly.

Now Bill has shifted his sights to a man whose own career has mirrored the growth of the medium: Joe Kubert. One of the first generation of comics artists by virtue of his seeking, and getting, employment when he was 11, he got into comics about the same time that Superman did. Joe has continued to write, draw and edit comics to this day. Best known for his work on [[[Hawkman]]], [[[Sgt. Rock]]], [[[Tarzan]]] and his own creation, [[[Tor]]], Joe has also been a pioneer in the direct sales comics movement (Sojourn) and in the modern graphic novel movement.

Kubert is at least as well-known for his work as America’s primary educator of cartoonists: his Kubert School in New Jersey has given us dozens of first-rate talent – from Timothy Truman to Tom Mandrake, from Alex Maleev to Shane Davis, plus a couple of kids named Kubert.

Swell. Everybody’s got a favorite artist, and Kubert’s mine. I’ve waxed poetic about the man before. So, for Schelly to entertain and educate me, well, that’s quite a task.

One Bill met well in his biography Man of Rock: A Biography of Joe Kubert , published by Fantagraphics Books. He did a first-rate job, giving us Kubert’s comprehensive story and interviewing Joe and a great many others. He gives us the story of [[[Tor]]] publisher Archer St. John and his “involvement” with (read: target of) the Capone mob, his days at Harvey, EC, and DC… the whole kit and caboodle.

We’ve recently been offered excellent biographies of comics masters Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko. Joe Kubert has deserved similar treatment, and he’s received just that in Bill Schelly’s hands. I heartedly recommend it to all fans of the medium, its history, and its masters. It’s available through your friendly neighborhood comics shop, through Fantagraphics, and through Bill’s own Hamster Press.