Relish: My Life in the Kitchen – Lucy Knisley

Publisher’s Summary:
“Lucy Knisley loves food. The daughter of a chef and a gourmet, this talented young cartoonist comes by her obsession honestly. In her forthright, thoughtful, and funny memoir, Lucy traces key episodes in her life thus far, framed by what she was eating at the time and lessons learned about food, cooking, and life.”

Relish was my answer to having to read a food memoir for work. (One of two food memoirs, actually, which is asking a lot of this fiction-only-please reader.) And, you know, it was a damn fine choice, if I do say so myself. First off, it’s a graphic novel. All of the lovely, lovingly drawn illustrations make settling in with non-fiction infinitely easier, because, speaking for myself, I know that the “long haul” isn’t going to actually be all that long. What would typically take me months to read flies by in a matter of hours spent looking at colorful details rather than solely reading – and promptly forgetting – them. Plus, Knisley’s recounting of her childhood, split between the city and the country but with food at its heart no matter where she found herself, was lively and engaging.

The book leads off with this:

How do you remember things? What are your clearest memories?…My most vivid memories consistently jog my brain with the recollection of how things tasted…Sometimes it’s frustrating, this selective memory. I can remember exactly the look and taste of a precious honey stick, balanced between my berry-stained fingers, but my times tables are long gone, forgotten, in favor of better, tastier memories.

Right then and there I knew Knisley and I were going to get along. One, what are times tables? If ever I knew them by heart I’ve also forgotten them, given them up to let favorite characters, songs, and scents have those pesky numbers’ place in my mind. Two, those things I just mentioned – books and certain scents, but music specifically – are very much associated with memories and my own stories of growing up. So I understood where she was going to be coming from with this memoir; I had a sense that tagging along into her past would be fun, and it so happened I was right on that score.

Along with stories about her days working alongside her mother at farmers’ markets, traveling with her father, and pursuing her education in Chicago are recipes, including one for chocolate chip cookies that you better believe I’ll be trying ASAP. The recipes seem easy to follow and are completely illustrated (of course).

Relish is a quick treat in and of itself.

Why I loved Frost Burned in One Oh So Brief Snippet

Risking a ticket, I answered the phone. “Yes?”

“Mercy?” said Stefan. “What do you need? And why are you calling me on someone else’s phone?”

“Mercy Thompson’s life has undergone a seismic change. Becoming the mate of Adam Hauptman—the charismatic Alpha of the local werewolf pack—has made her a stepmother to his daughter Jesse, a relationship that brings moments of blissful normalcy to Mercy’s life. But on the edges of humanity, what passes for a minor mishap on an ordinary day can turn into so much more…

After an accident in bumper-to-bumper traffic, Mercy and Jesse can’t reach Adam—or anyone else in the pack for that matter. They’ve all been abducted.

Through their mating bond, all Mercy knows is that Adam is angry and in pain. With the werewolves fighting a political battle to gain acceptance from the public, Mercy fears Adam’s disappearance may be related—and that he and the pack are in serious danger. Outclassed and on her own, Mercy may be forced to seek assistance from any ally she can get, no matter how unlikely.”

Thought I would pop in and offer up an Hurrah! for the latest in Patricia Briggs’ Mercy Thompson series. It seemed so long since I had last been in Mercy’s world, but as ever, slipping back into it was seamlessly done. It helped that Stefan, my very favorite character (among a stacked deck of great ones) in the series, was a phone call away, offering aid when Mercy asked for it, and that his role in this books’ particular pickle carried him through to the end.

There were, of course, many other things I loved about Frost Burned, most of which I won’t comment on because of spoiler risks. Suffice it to say, Briggs has done it again, and I am looking forward to the next dill gherkin? conflict Mercy and company find themselves embroiled in.

The Lazarus Machine – Paul Crilley

Publisher’s Summary:
“An alternate 1895… . A world where Charles Babbage and Ada Lovelace perfected the Difference Engine. Where steam and Tesla-powered computers are everywhere. Where automatons powered by human souls venture out into the sprawling London streets. Where the Ministry, a secretive government agency, seeks to control everything in the name of the Queen.

It is in this claustrophobic, paranoid city that seventeen-year-old Sebastian Tweed and his conman father struggle to eke out a living. But all is not well. …

A murderous, masked gang has moved into London, spreading terror through the criminal ranks as it takes over the underworld. As the gang carves up more and more of the city, a single name comes to be uttered in fearful whispers. Professor Moriarty.

When Tweed’s father is kidnapped by Moriarty, Tweed is forced to team up with information broker Octavia Nightingale to track him down. But he soon realizes that his father’s disappearance is just a tiny piece of a political conspiracy that could destroy the British Empire and plunge the world into a horrific war.”

I could cast about for a proper introduction to this review, but why bother when what I really want to say is simple and straight to the point: I liked The Lazarus Machine a whole hell of a lot. That out of the way, I can move directly to the reasons why, and a good starting point is with the supremely likable detective team of Sebastian Tweed and Octavia Nightingale.

When you take two characters, strong and interesting in their own right, and put them together, well…I don’t know about you, but I want chemistry that sparks and burns (romantically or platonically); I want balance, an equality built on a foundation of mutual respect and earned trust; and that (and then some) is what I got from Tweed and Octavia’s fledgling partnership. Both Tweed and Octavia brought unique traits and qualifications to the table, including stubbornness, a fraying thread of arrogance and opposite life experiences, and their initial wariness of one another was…delightful. Sharp minded and sharp tongued, Tweed and Octavia challenged each other from the moment they met; preconceptions, opinions and plots were examined, weighed, and occasionally scorned, but it was never a question of one or the other not being up to the task. The bond between them built slowly, and was realistic because it was tested, proven under quiet and explosive conditions. Folks, I adored these two. And their banter easily ranks high among my favorite things about the novel.

Take this (long) example, when Tweed and Octavia are standing in front of a clock tower that’s been erected in front of Big Ben:

“Sorry, but I kind of like it,” he said. Then he frowned. “Why am I apologizing? I like the bloody thing. I think it’s going to be magnificent.”

“That’s because you have no taste,” said Octavia. “Or style. It’s not your fault. It’s what comes from being raised in an all-male household.”

“I resent that,” snapped Tweed. “I have lots of taste. And I’m incredibly stylish. This coat is a collector’s piece, you know.”

“Yes,” said Octavia, “you can tell. It belongs in a museum.”

Tweed straightened up and pulled his jacket tight across his chest. “You, madam, are a…a buffoon!”

That didn’t have quite the effect Tweed wanted. Octavia burst out laughing. “A buffoon, you say?”

Tweed turned haughtily away. “That’s right.”

Octavia grabbed him by the shoulder. “Wait, don’t walk off. What about a scallywag? Am I a scallywag as well?”

Tweed pursed his lips. “Right now? Yes. You are.”

“What about…What about a dollymop?”

Tweed frowned. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

She sniggered. “A strumpet?”

Tweed sighed. “No.”

“A flap dragon?”

“N–What does that even mean? You just made that up!”

As smart and mature as they are, they’re still teenagers; they have their moments, like the round of name-calling above, and I liked that aspect of the story and their character. I liked that they were prone to being irreverent and silly on occasion, and could find moments of amusement in the midst of a situation that was bigger than both of them individually, but together didn’t seem quite so harrying.

Populated with many secondary and minor characters, the most notable of them are Jenny and Carter, a married couple and friends of Tweed’s father, who are bright lights of personality and charm, and serve as a possible conclusion for what Tweed and Octavia could be and have if they choose to pursue a romantic connection. There’s also a young hacker, for lack of a better word, who has a biting, no nonsense attitude that, I gotta admit, is pretty awesome. I hope there’s more of her in the next Tweed & Nightingale Adventure.

Regarding the story (read: plot) itself, I found it to be clever and imaginative, and there were twists and turns a-plenty, including a huge one nearing the end that may challenge some readers’ ability to suspend disbelief, but worked for me because I was invested entirely. The writing was descriptive and visual; the pace determined if not quick. In short, no sooner had I finished The Lazarus Machine that I wanted their next case written and delivered into my hands.

Crimson Frost – Jennifer Estep

Publisher’s Summary:
For a moment, a face flashed before my eyes—the most hideous face I’d ever seen. No matter how hard I tried to forget what had happened, I saw him everywhere I went. It was Loki—the evil god that I’d helped set free against my will.

I should have known that my first official date with Logan Quinn was destined to end in disaster. If we’d gotten into a swordfight, or been ambushed by Reapers, I’d have been more prepared. But getting arrested mid-sip at the local coffee hangout? I didn’t see that one coming. I’ve been accused of purposely helping the Reapers free Loki from his prison—and the person leading the charge against me is Linus Quinn, Logan’s dad. The worst part is that pretty much everyone at Mythos Academy thinks I’m guilty. If I’m going to get out of this mess alive, I’ll have to do it myself. . .

If for no other reason than it took me but one-sitting to read, I could kiss the library copy of Crimson Frost that came into my hands the first week of the new year. But, really, Gwen (the violet-eyed lovely up there) and I aren’t that close, and it is flu season; who knows who else might have felt a similar compulsion? Admittedly, a large dose of the pleasure I took from this book can be put down to the fact that I finished it (a rarity, considering the latter half of 2012), but it was still nice to be back at Mythos Academy, watching Gwen get herself into continued trouble, and to once again be in the company of Logan. Hot. Spartan. Boy. Quinn. Who was no longer called a “man-whore” by Gwen at every turn. Hurrah! (See my review of Kiss of Frost for an explanation and implied eye-rolling.)

The fourth full-length installment in the Mythos Academy series finds Gwen arrested and standing trial, which is par for the course with the way her luck runs, but was also used as an opportunity to introduce a string of new characters, including Logan’s father, step-mother, and a Russian warrior assigned bodyguard duty. More than how their roles drove the plot, I enjoyed the new light these first-time characters threw on a few familiar faces, particularly Logan’s uncle and Head Librarian, Nickamedes. In fact, my favorite aspect of the novel on the whole was the bridge being built between him and Gwen.

In some respects, Crimson Frost is more of the same: Gwen struggling under the weight of the mantle laid on her shoulders as Nike’s chosen champion; her friends being a steadfast support system, risking life and limb as they fight by her side (when they’re not being used as bait or as means to assorted nefarious ends). But there’s comfort to be found in that sameness; the world is easy to fall back into after a long absence, and the characters are just as you remember them. Plus, there’s Vic, a talking, blood-thirsty sword (because what else would swords be? Pacifists?), and Nyx, an adorable wolf pup that doesn’t get nearly enough page time.

Bottom line, the books in this series are light, quick reads populated with (mostly) likeable if unremarkable characters, and a narrative arc that has a clear and obvious end goal.

So far:
Touch of Frost (my review)
Kiss of Frost (my review)
Dark Frost

Makeshift Miracle: The Girl From Nowhere (Book 1) – Jim Zub, Shun Hong Chan

Publisher’s Summary:
“A young boy named Colby Reynolds searches for meaning in the world around him and discovers a place where dreams can come true – if he’s willing to pay the price! Along the way he’ll see sights he’s never fathomed and encounter hidden truths about himself he’ll wish he never knew.”

Makeshift Miracle is an online graphic novel recently published in a gorgeous hardcover edition. And it’s because of the fact that, if you were of a mind to, you could just click over to read it for yourself that I’m going to keep this post short and to the point. (One note on the web version: it is not yet complete. Four of the six chapters are currently available with new updates added to the site on Mondays and Fridays.)

There’s one reason why you might want to consider borrowing the book from a library – or purchasing a copy, if you prefer – and that’s because the art is so lovely, so dreamy, that you might want to run your fingers across each and every smooth page, taking in the color as it melts into another shade under your fingertips. The color palette, soft and occasionally muted to highlight a change in scene or landscape, was one of my favorite things about the art, which, since I’m going on about it, was my favorite thing about the book.

As for the story…there’s not much to it or, for that matter, all that much happening in this first volume. We meet Colby and Iris, find out next to nothing about the latter (mostly because ‘the girl from nowhere’ seems to be suffering from selective amnesia), and a third character bursts on the scene about whom we know nothing (other than the fact that he’s searching for Iris and is clueless when it comes to all things Earth). The elements are interesting if completely and unfortunately underdeveloped. Here’s to hoping the story picks up and strengthens in the next volume!

Image credit – Click on either to make larger (naturally).

My Life Next Door – Huntley Fitzpatrick

Publisher’s Summary:
“‘One thing my mother never knew, and would disapprove of most of all, was that I watched the Garretts. All the time.’

The Garretts are everything the Reeds are not. Loud, numerous, messy, affectionate. And every day from her balcony perch, seventeen-year-old Samantha Reed wishes she was one of them . . . until one summer evening, Jase Garrett climbs her terrace and changes everything. As the two fall fiercely in love, Jase’s family makes Samantha one of their own. Then in an instant, the bottom drops out of her world and she is suddenly faced with an impossible decision. Which perfect family will save her? Or is it time she saved herself?

I’ve been sitting here, transfixed by a blinking cursor, for three, four minutes, trying to figure out how to write about this book, which, all told, I thoroughly enjoyed. And, beyond that, wrestling with how to phrase the explanation that must follow, the reasons why I loved it and the minor caveats that bear mentioning. I guess this opening gambit will have to do. As for the rest…

On my radar for a good, long while, my interest in My Life Next Door jumped the fence into must-read territory after snagging on a single line in Angie’s review of the title: “this book does have a romance in possession of the kind of heat you do not want to miss.” That – and the comparisons being drawn to Perkins’ Anna and the French Kiss – made a promising story absolutely irresistible. While I believe Perkins’ novel is a bird of a different color – albeit maybe in the same family – I am oh, so glad I took heed of the comparison and listened to Angie, because any book that makes me stop reading to immediately reread is one not to be missed.

It would be absurd to claim that I responded so favorably to this novel because of the fact that, at its heart, it’s about a girl whose coming of age was stalled, pushed back by a mother with tight hands on the rope and the girl’s own inclination to be towed along. It wouldn’t be a lie, per se. After all, I got Samantha. Certain aspects of her character and life: painfully so. But, no, it wasn’t the character that resonated; it wasn’t the charming family living next door to her (though, George? [Er, George is one of the youngest members of the Garrett brood.] I want a book about you all grown up, because you are going to be something).

It was Samantha and Jase, the palpable heat between them, the way their relationship engaged my emotions so completely, and that I actually, honest-to-goodness sighed while reading.

To go into too much detail would be to potentially spoil the experience; I can’t do that. So I’m not going to include excerpts, though my fingers itch with the desire to type out one or two, and I’m not going to say anything more about Jase except yes, please. I will, however, point out that there are at least two types of angst: delicious angst, the kind that pokes the balloons swaying in your stomach, releasing a wash of emotion that prompts your eyes to track back over the words to read them again, hoping the sensation can and will be duplicated; then there’s enough-already angst, the kind that’s uncomfortable or forced, dropped into the story like a bomb, detonating unnecessary drama. When it comes to the relationship in this book, the only angst you’ll experience is that first kind, and oh, my. Just…yes.

Ahem.

I was also engaged by a subplot involving Tim, a childhood friend of Samantha’s, who is tangled in a web of addiction and bound by a spiral of bad choices. Is his story thread predictable? Yes. But the thing about Tim is that his character works; I cared, despite knowing how his story was going to play out, and so his inevitable redemption still managed to be gratifying. Besides, there’s something about him. Take this memorable moment as a for instance:

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve read If You Give a Mouse a Cookie to this kid? That is one fucked up story. How is that a book for babies?”

Jase laughs. “I thought it was about babysitting.”

“Hell, no, it’s addiction. That friggin’ mouse is never satisfied. You give him one thing, he wants something else, and then he asks for more and on and on and on. Fucked up. Patsy liked it, though. Fifty thousand times.” Tim yawns, and Patsy snuggles more comfortably onto his chest, grabbing a handful of shirt. “So what’s doin’?”

Now, about those caveats. Again, too much detail, in this case, is not a good thing, so I’ll just say this: I had a problem with Samantha’s best friend, how that plot line progressed (and also said best friend’s use of “mommy” and “daddy” without a trace of sarcasm [could be that I'm out of touch, but I wasn't aware that sixteen/seventeen-year-olds still called their parents that]); and I was a bit disappointed in the catalyst for Samantha’s growth, that it took something so extreme to shake her up, to get her to shrug off her indifferent attitude towards her mother’s control and take it back. Those are subjective issues, sure, but I wanted to make it clear that the book isn’t all roses, even if the romance is heady and sweet.

Samantha and Jase made a home under my skin, and I’m actually loathe to give up the library copy I read for wanting to keep them close. So, yes, a trip to the book store is in my immediate future. Because My Life Next Door? For this reader, it’s a keeper.

Steve Rogers: Super-Soldier – Ed Brubaker, Dale Eaglesham

Publisher’s Summary:
“Steve Rogers was America’s first Super-Soldier – Captain America – and he’s fought for his country since World War II. Now a face from the past reappears, a woman that cannot be alive because Steve watched her die! Steve has fought for so long, and lost so much — is his past coming back to haunt him now? Or could this be the plot of an old enemy who controls nearly everything he touches, including Steve’s mind?”

In my review of Brubaker’s Captain America, Volume 1, I noted: “Despite my devotion to [Steve Rogers], I do understand that I may not actually enjoy all of the story arcs he is at the heart of or, for that matter, every graphic novel he turns up in.” Yeah, well. About that…I suspect that claim may not be true; that I may, in fact, be hardwired to enjoy every graphic novel featuring Steve Rogers that I get my hands on. Because Steve Rogers: Super-Soldier was not an exception. I enjoyed the story’s trajectory, even if I did trip over a piece (or two) of information that I had not before been privy to, and Dale Eaglesham’s art knocked my socks off.

Several twists propel this story to its ultimately unresolved ending – Volume two? You’re not too far off, are you? I mean, Brubaker waving goodbye to Cap isn’t going to affect your release, is it? *tries not to panic* – which means, of course, that I need to tread carefully. And that means that I’ll be steering clear of dissecting the plot until its details show. Basically, I can give you the following two (long, because that’s the way I like ‘em) sentences: Informed of the allegedly successful recreation of the serum that transformed him, Steve heads to Madripoor to track down a man with a startling connection to his past, hoping to talk some sense into him before he can sell the serum to the highest bidder. Should that plan fail, Steve will do whatever it takes in order to keep it from falling into the wrong hands, including confronting ghosts from his past and revisiting an old heartache.

More succinctly put: Feels everywhere, folks. Everywhere.

I’ve mostly shaken off my clumsy, prone to toe-stubbing lack of knowledge when it comes to the Avengers’ history and backstories. (That is not to say that I know everything. Far from it. But I’m passing familiar with enough of it to see me through.) So I’m reading, reading, and then all of a sudden *thud* – Down I go, tripping over an old flame of Steve’s that seemingly came out of nowhere. *splutters* Her backstory - their backstory – packs a wallop, which I most certainly would not have forgotten had I encountered a mention of it before. Really, this can only mean one thing: I must seek out and read even more Captain America/Steve Rogers graphic novels. (I can hear you, you know. And, no, it’s not like I needed an actual excuse to do just that, but it’s always nice when an obsession is given a reason to thrive. Who is this woman and how dare she curl up so close to Steve?)

Join the club, lady.

Er, and the villain! (The main one. The in-your-face one.) I’ll keep his name under wraps, but that – along with a handful of facts picked up while reading an Avengers character guide – was about all I knew in regards to him. I had no contextual sense for what type of threat he posed, when he may have tangled with Steve – or any of the others – in the past, etc. As a result, he came off as rather…silly. I was far more interested in the people pulling the strings, who were only just briefly revealed – to an extent – when the volume came to a close. (Curse you, unresolved ending! Double curse you if volume two is not imminent!)

Bottom line on the story: It was solid and engaging and helped along immensely by its reliance on Steve’s inner narrative.

Now. Dale Eaglesham’s art.

I’d like to note, before going further, that the cover was not his doing. That credit goes to Carlos Pacheco, Tim Townsend and Frank D’Armata. And while I don’t mind the cover illustration, it’s not, in my opinion, nearly as whoa and hot damn as Eaglesham’s interior art. At the risk of sounding superficial, Steve Rogers has rarely been drawn so…so…[insert appreciative fangirl sigh here].

Ever since he took up the shield on screen, Chris Evans is Steve Rogers in my mind. When I picture the character, it’s his outrageously attractive face that takes shape. That said, when I’m able to blank his image and concentrate on my own idea and sense of what comic!Steve looks like…it’s eerily similar to how Eaglesham portrays him here. And that’s going beyond his appearance to Steve’s physicality, on wondrous display in this book, and to his grace, poise, determination and skill in a fight, all of which also comes through in spades. Just look at that image on the right. It has badass written all over it.

Setting aside the fact that Steve as drawn here is aesthetically pleasing (understatement), Eaglesham imbued so much emotion in his art. Steve’s story – and I’m referring to before he became Captain America here – tugs at me mercilessly. Couple Steve’s thoughts on his youth with panels like the ones below, and…I’m left a mess of feelings. This isn’t the only instance in which Eaglesham’s art stripped Steve bare (figuratively, alas), but these images are lasting, and they elevated this entire graphic novel to…something more. Which is why I’ll be buying my own copy shortly.

Black Dawn – Rachel Caine

Publisher’s Summary:
“Ever since the draug – mysterious creatures that prey on vampires – took over Morganville, the lives of Claire Danvers and her friends have been thrown into turmoil. Most of the residents have evacuated, but Claire, Shane, Eve, and Michael have chosen to stay and fight.

By using the town’s water system to spread, the draug have rapidly multiplied. Things in Morganville look grim, especially since vampire Amelie – the town founder – has been infected by the master draug’s bite.

If Claire and her friends don’t figure out how to cure Amelie and defeat the draug, it looks as though Morganville will become little more than a ghost town…”

Twelve books into the Morganville Vampires series and I still love Claire and Shane, Myrnin, and Rachel Caine’s ability to up the ante at nearly every turn. While those appeals (along with lightning quick pacing) are holding strong, the series has, regrettably, begun to fray. (For me, I should add; other readers, going by their reviews, are not experiencing a decline in enjoyment.)

It is nearly impossible – or so I’ve found – to include salient plot points in any written discussion of the individual books because the series is rather like a house: each book is a brick that supports the one set on top of it. Stripping away the metaphor, while you may not be spoiling the book you’re actually recording your thoughts on, the likelihood of ruining a minor or key event from a previous one is highly probable. So, that’s my long-winded way of saying that I’m going to skip talking about the story itself. Though, really, I could sum it up by saying that nothing is ever going to go right or easy in Morganville for anyone.

Why is the series beginning to fray for me? It’s highly subjective, but…One reason is the recent inclusion of multiple points of view. While experiencing things through the eyes of other characters is nice and all, I find it…discombobulating? Because why these additional POV’s are written in first person while Claire is still being told through third is just…odd to me.* Not jarring, per se, because the transition is smooth. And then there’s whose voice gets added to the mix and the regularity with which they’re given the stage. Shane, Eve, Michael, Oliver (very briefl), Naomi (very briefly) – and if there’s anyone else, I can’t recall – get a chapter or two, but not, for instance, Myrnin. Naomi is relatively new to the scene, and, honestly, I’m not invested enough in her character to revel in having her first person perspective. Basically? I’m not sure why they’re necessary now. Why not have done it from the beginning? Annnnd I’m just rambling on here, so I’m going to be quiet, but I’d be happy to discuss in the comments!

Additionally, while plausability was never a factor with these books, recent events – or non-events, actually – have begun to really strain credibility. Other readers have expressed frustration with the fact that the core four refuse to leave Morganville no matter what awful things befall them. Which leaves one to wonder why. Is it some odd form of Stockholm Syndrome? Blind, likely-to-get-them-killed-violently stubbornness? It’s not out-and-out stupidity because Claire, at least, is a very smart girl who knows what it’s like to live outside Morganville, and therefore has tasted a life devoid of vampires who would as soon betray her as pat her on the back for helping them out in a pinch. There was once a point in the series when the characters addressed this more directly, but it’s become something of a moot point recently, and…if there’s been an explanation, it wasn’t one that stuck with me.

So. After all that, I will continue with the next book and see how it goes. I might even, if Caine throws us a bone and gives Myrnin** a chapter or two, end up loving it.

_______

*I’ve admittedly not visited Caine’s web site to search for an explanation – if there’s one to be found – behind the who and why. Even if I did, it wouldn’t change the fact that the inclusion of these new POVs only works marginally well for me.

**Myrnin, next to Shane, is the only character I would be interested in reading a first person POV from. Myrnin makes everything okay – even the inclusion of new POVs after nine or so books. (And I’m going to stop writing ‘POVs’ now because, wow, is it getting annoying.)

Avengers: The Children’s Crusade – Allan Heinberg, Jim Cheung

Publisher’s Summary:
“The Young Avengers return in an epic saga by series creators Allan Heinberg and Jim Cheung. When Wiccan’s reality-altering powers begin to rival those of the Scarlet Witch, the young hero sets out on a quest to find her that spans the Marvel Universe and pits Wiccan against both the Avengers and the Young Avengers. But will Wiccan’s desire to solve the mystery of his parentage be his salvation or his undoing? With three words, the Scarlet Witch changed the world forever…and now with her return, nothing will ever be the same for the Marvel Universe.”

In spite of the fact that, at the time, I had another Young Avengers graphic novel on my desk, one that would have likely been better suited to serve as my official introduction to the group, I chose to dive in with The Children’s Crusade because I could not resist the lure of a single page of art and a handful of words. But as it turned out, this book and I, we got along just fine. It should be noted, however, that my enjoyment of it was derived in part from knowledge I brought with me. Namely, I was aware of the main series of events, which is mentioned in brief in the summary above, that triggered the conflict the Young Avengers find themselves embroiled in in this particular storyline, and knew – at least to some extent – all of the players on the board. Without that, I can’t say how well it would work – or even if it would at all – as a primer to this group of young superheroes.

So, yes, I knew that the Scarlet Witch unleashed…hell, for lack of a better word, and that the resulting ripples of disquiet and unease and outright antagonism touched most everyone within the superpowered community. The Children’s Crusade hints at the shattering effect that event had on the Avengers and X-Men, but this is very much the Young Avengers story, and as such the focus is on how the fledgling squad deals with the aftermath and infighting among their mentors. And even then, Wiccan is at the forefront of the story; it’s his determination to settle the question of his parentage once and for all that acts as a catalyst for the ultimate conflict that pits former allies against one another, as well as an exponentially stronger but well-known enemy.

(What I really meant to convey with that paragraph was: While Heinberg did an admirable job of recapping the events that led up to this, I was glad for the knowledge I brought to it, because I could see what was on the fringe of this story, and that led to a deeper emotional connection to everyone involved, including those I maybe didn’t know quite as well. Also: Both Civil War and Siege are mentioned in this title. I cut the part from the summary that claimed The Children’s Crusade was a “self-contained event” because, in my opinion, it relies on too much backstory for that to be entirely true.)

The next thing I should probably cover – as briefly as possible, which is proving rather harder than it should be – are the Young Avengers themselves. Several of them, after all, sunk their hooks in me: Billy Kaplan (Wiccan) because his voice drives the narrative, yes, but also because he’s sweet and unsure and his coming-of-age is accompanied by an immense amount of power he’s still learning to control; Teddy Altman (Hulkling) because his fierce loyalty to and love for Billy gave me that fluttery feeling; Tommy Sheperd (Speed) wasn’t quite what I expected, but his smartass, boderline self-absorbed personality won me over anyway; and…Okay, just about every one of them worked exceptionally well. (I don’t yet fully understand Eli (Patriot) or Kate (Hawkeye), but that will no doubt change as I continue with my Young Avengers reading.) Seeing as how I liked them as individuals, I couldn’t help but become invested in them as a team. They are wonderful advocates of each other and their friendship shines through, often in humorous exchanges like the one below:

(Source)

To go into further detail would risk spoiling the story, so I’ll stop here. Suffice it to say, I was thoroughly taken in by The Children’s Crusade, and I will absolutely be seeking out any and all future (and older) Young Avengers titles.

*Screeches to a halt with the cursor over ‘publish’*

I didn’t mention the art! Quickly: It was great. I liked Cheung’s style, appreciated the consistency, and the fact that the Young Avengers actually looked young.

[Note: That page I mentioned in the first paragraph? I'd include it here, but it might be considered spoilerish. Ultimately, the aspect of the story it covers is also my favorite, and it hurts just a little to not gush about it, but...I won't. I'll just go...sit on my hands before my fingers can start typing without my conscious consent. But! If you don't mind being spoiled - or have an idea of what I'm referring to and just want it confirmed - click here.]

Nightwing: The Great Leap – Peter J. Tomasi

Publisher’s Summary:
“Stepping out of Batman’s shadow, the original Boy Wonder now breaks the circle of crime and corruption on the mean streets of New York City as Nightwing. When the Dark Knight’s adversary Two-Face steps in to take a bite out of the Big Apple, it’s up to Nightwing to pluck the city from the crazed madman’s grasp. NYC’s only hope may lie in the hands of an old flame from Two-Face’s past–but Nightwing better hurry before an assassin’s bullet cuts her down.”

Perhaps you recall the post from a couple of weeks back; the one in which I stated my intention to become better acquainted with Nightwing? After waiting on and receiving the five graphic novels I requested through the library, I settled on this one, Nightwing: The Great Leap, to act as my introduction to Dick Grayson and his superhero persona. It was an excellent choice.

In Peter Tomasi’s hands, Nightwing is this vulnerable, resolute, deeply human character. He is a badass, certainly, and his circus/trapeze artist background gives him a graceful edge when it comes to slipping in and out of places – unnoticed or otherwise – but he is not impervious to pain (both physical and emotional), and he wears his devotion to his city and its people, to fighting evil with good, as so many scars scored into his skin. Two particular pages (one page at right) stopped me in my tracks for a moment. This is, surprisingly, perhaps, the first graphic novel I’ve read in which the superhero gets seriously injured; that you get to see the toll the battles he’s waged has taken on his body. And because I read for character – because once I’m invested, I’m all in – the sight of all those scars got to me, and made me care for Dick Grayson that much more. Adding to that, a bit later on in the story, Dick juxtaposes his and Bruce Wayne’s pasts, specifically how they both lost their families and how that single event changed them. It was – and this is putting it mildly – effective. In fact, between his internal monologue during that scene and the art (below) that accompanied it, there was just no help for it: I was a goner.

There is a great deal more to like and enjoy about The Great Leap over and above Nightwing himself. For instance, the predominant villain of the piece is Harvey “Two-Face” Dent; his manic, chillingly psychotic personality switches lent the story true menace. Harvey’s history with Dick when he was still Batman’s Robin amplified the tension as events progressed. Also, there was Alfred. Dick and Tim Drake’s (the current Robin – Red Robin, as it were) relationship with Alfred (Bruce Wayne’s butler; the man who, for all intents and purposes, raised him after his family was murdered, in case the name didn’t ring a bell with you) is beautifully depicted in this story. It is exquisitely clear how deeply these men care for each other, and I’ve made no bones about the fact that I am a sucker for those kinds of bonds; it should come as no surprise, then, that that dynamic was one of my favorite aspects of the story. Additionally, there were cameo appearances from some of Batman’s most tenacious enemies, and also by members of the Justice League of America, which provided a few interesting moments.

If I had a complaint, it would be that 1) the story has one or two overarching plot points, but there were shifts along the way that didn’t immediately (if at all) make sense in light of the big picture (and I’ve a sneaking suspicion that maybe they weren’t meant to), and 2) I was unclear about Dick’s relationship with two women featured at various times throughout the book. That may be because what I know of his history is not all inclusive; once I read more, I may have a better understanding of where each of the women stand with him, what their history is, and so it’s actually not a complaint, but more a point of frustration (because I want to know everything all at once, and that’s just not reasonable).

The art was quite good – though not nearly as striking as that fantastic, eye-catching cover – and, for having been done by several different pencillers, fairly consistent throughout. If I were to express a preference, it would have been for part one, which was done by Don Kramer. His action scenes really captured Dick’s background and showed how fluid, how graceful, Dick can be in the thick of a fight, but also how self-assured he is in his skills. He was also responsible for a scene between Nightwing and Alfred that really got to me (at left). Flipping through the book, the other two parts I noticeably appreciated were also done by Kramer, so there you go.

After this outing, I am very much looking forward to continuing my Nightwing education.