Guess what I’m playing again
Firefly: The Sting by Delilah S. Dawson
Delilah Dawson is rapidly becoming one of my favorite authors. The plot of Firefly: The Sting (a graphic novel that is set in the Firefly universe) is complex, and lots of characters “take the lead” in this ensemble story of the women of Firefly. The premise (that Saffron had been hiding on board Serenity, and thus able to cause a full set of hijinx) felt a little beyond what the character (to me) is capable of, but everything after that was true-to-character and strong.
Props to the many artists, colorers, and letterers involved, especially for the interstitial art between chapters. It was impressive and intriguing.
I hope that there are more stories like this coming.
On Eugenics
I post this so often on twitter it’s been my pinned tweet for over a year. I keep it on my phone. But neither of those allow for the full transcription, so here’s a transcribed version.
One panel, many many word balloons. Colossus kneels, holding his daughter Chrissy Pride’s hand, looking up into her face as he speaks. Wolverine’s son Cameron stands in the background, arms crossed, but listening.
Colossus is the only speaker.
It always begins as a joke. Listen to me, both of you. One sees a father or a mother of whom they do not approve—and their brats won’t shut up and the parents are so exhausted that they just let their children scream, all sticking, and crying and hitting and wild.
And you say to your friends “you should have to pass a test to breed.” Do you understand? “You should have to get licensed to have kids.”
It starts as a joke.
Then perhaps there is tragedy. A postpartum mother who should’ve gotten help, but her insurance didn’t cover therapy. A father who erred because he was raised believing men are pathetic if they are caregivers.
The first tests are drafted.
And you think, “Good.” You think, “Those children will be safe now.”
The tests come out, and yes, there’s some problems, but nothing that cannot be ironed out, yes?
But now, anyone with a mental illness, with a criminal record, is barred from becoming a parent, and you think, “well, that is sensible, yes?” Because you’ve never known anyone like that, so who is to tell you they are not like they are portrayed in stories?
Sick, dangerous, criminal — those words expand. Suddenly it is anyone with diabetes, anyone with cancer, because they could die and leave their children orphaned, so how dare they ever try to have children? It is deaf couples, disabled couples, interracial couples, gay couples—because don’t they know how hard they’re making it for their children?
This it is whoever they want.
You think you are working for the greater good. You can’t even fathom the life of someone who isn’t exactly like you.
Then one day—it is you.
Some gene, some history, some past behavior—and suddenly, you too are sick dangerous, criminal.
Because the truth is this—human hate can adapt to anything.
You think you are safe. But if someone hates you, they will come up with the reason after the fact.
Only then do you realize what you put in power. Only then do you realize what you stripped away.
There is terrible power in a joke, in a story, in taking the truth and making it ugly.
Do you understand, children?
Adulthood is a Myth and Big Mushy Happy Lump: Sara’s Scribbles collections by Sarah Andersen
I usually try to read books in order, even if I don’t have to, but I honestly didn’t know that Herding Cats: A Sara’s Scribbles collection by Sarah Andersen was the third book in a series when I picked it up.
And it was awesome.
So Adulthood is a Myth and Big Mushy Happy Lump (books 1 and 2 respectively) went on my Christmas list, and I was thrilled to get them both.
Adulthood is a Myth is Sarah’s college-years book, as at the end the protagonist graduates, but it doesn’t concentrate on college and it isn’t a story-based comic. Sarah’s scribbles are definitely comics of the one-shot variety. Still, themes around social anxiety, introversion, figuring out how to get things done and grow up all develop through the book.
Reading this is like “OMG I’M IN THIS! OMG MY FRIENDS ARE IN THIS! EVERYONE NEEDS TO READ THIS! wait is she spying on me?”
Big Mushy Happy Lump is post-graduation, but like most of us, the protagonist didn’t suddenly figure out adulthood just because she’s not in college anymore.
Like Herding Cats, this book is mostly comic strips, with an illustrated section about Sarah at the back. The protagonist is still an introvert, still socially anxious, but we see more of her with her beau, more of her interacting with people she’s not sure how to deal with, and we start to see a kitty show up. In the back half, Sarah teaches herself to become more open to new opportunities, and we learn about the kitten she borrowed from her mom for a month. (She also steals lots of sweaters throughout the book.)
Both of these books are quick reads; I covered them in a half hour. They’re also delightful stick-them-on-the-coffee-table-and-flip-through-them-regularly books. As one-shot comic strips go, Sarah Andersen brings me joy.
The Gospel of Carol Vol 1: Radical Teen Study Edition by John S. Troutman
The Gospel of Carol is not the book you read if you’re looking for a Church’s preferred edition of the Bible. It’s the book you read if you’re looking for a tired-of-the-Churches’-patriarchy-bullshit version of the Bible. It’s the book you read if you want to imagine that the aprocryphal gospels and books of the Bible might have had some interesting things to say. It’s the book you read if the idea that Jesus was one of a set of triplets, his brother Thomas was mute, and his sister Carol was the one with the T1 line of power and mystery coming straight from Heaven plugged into her brain makes you go “huh, how would that go down exactly?”.
It’s the kind of book you read if you’ve ever wondered what it would have been like to know to the second how long it was until the time of your death on the cross.
At the same time, it certainly doesn’t take itself too seriously — Carol not only wanders the earth looking for answers, but also annoys the Greek gods, kicks Lucifer out of heaven for waking her up too early, turns water into wine pretty much every chance she gets, and as a child gets revenge on a town by making everyone pee themselves. Constantly.
The chapter introductions make it clear how much research Troutman did to put together this view of the Son/Daughter of God, including referencing which apocryphal books he read and when he deviated from source material altogether. This isn’t someone’s half-dreamed Bible fanfic tossed together in a Sunday afternoon, this is someone’s well-thought-out, researched, structured, and analyzed Bible fanfic spanning sources from pop-culture references to Dante’s inferno to the canonical four gospels to the Infancy Gospel of James.
The art is crisp and clear and, while occasionally it can be confusing which woman with shiny hair is which, the distinctiveness of the characters’ voices, coupled with the visual cues and context clues, make this black-and-white graphic novel both readable and enjoyable.
The character of Carol grew out of Troutman’s Lit Brick series of comics, where she was initially named She-Jesus and came in as a substitute for any time a piece of literature was referencing her brother. The paperback edition includes a number of Kickstarter shorts available only in the book, a sampling of the Lit Brick comics that launched Carol as a character, as well as a solid and fantastic essay by Wednesday Burns-White “If Veggies Tire You, What Would Triplets Do? Carol of Nazareth’s Position Within Christian Mass Media”. Burns-White looks at the Christian mass-media influences on 1990s kids in North America and how various shows from Mister Rogers to Veggie Tales and beyond, weaving together how our generation is comfortable both consuming media and talking back to it, and how Troutman’s Gospel of Carol does both.
All in all, definitely one I’m glad I bought.