Just trying to make it through these thoroughly-other works, makes one believe that either they are the last living rubes who do not understand what is a now common tongue or that the comics were made by the craziest of crazy artists.
32 Stories effectively demonstrates how the dolorous ‘90s diary comic might pull itself out of the mire of its similar contemporary pieces. It is Tomine’s command of form that ultimately redeems the genre.
Before even opening Chicken with Plums it is apparent that the book will have to go beyond the cultural seduction of Persepolis if Satrapi’s career is to become anything other than a one-note veil dance.
Moomin owes much of its unique brilliance to its inversion of traditional argumentation. Whereas it is not unusual for an essay to recourse to fantastic thought experiment to complement its strict reasoning, Moomin builds strictly verisimilar situations out of an aesthetics of wild illogic.
Dahl traps readers between his incredible powers of persuasion and his equally well-trained powers of self-deprecation. The entire experience leaves you saying, “Oh yes I do hate that about America…Oh, I hate myself for thinking that.”