Debussy sucks.

This is a pretty good book, I certainly could not put it down, but it telegraphs and foreshadows much too much, struggles with third voices that are supposed to be documentary and are just very writerly, and doesn't leave enough for the twist. There are a few really great emotional notes that have lodged in my head, but they're drowned out by the somewhat unconvincing journey from the beginning of the book, which is about the end, and the actual end, which isn't really about anything.

It does indeed have movie deal written all through it, and the writing is pretty solid, and the story is fun and dark, but I'd rather read a Culture novel again. That far-flung world is ultimately more believable than this one, and as I think about this book, I realize that my favorite character (yubin-kun) has no lines.

Like almost all of Will Eisner's later work, Dropsie Avenue is about the City and the rise and fall of the lives within it. This story moves fast, beginning with the rural settlers and going all the way through development, burnout, redevelopment, and portents of blights to come. With many families and a few characters that tie the whole story together, this isn't really a character-driven work; it really stays detached, offering up a tragedy on almost every page to keep the reader from getting too emotionally invested.

Eisner's trademark cartoony, freeform panels and expressive lettering make this piece a pleasure to read despite all the sad tales within. The message - that it is ethnic tension and intolerance that leads to urban blight, not economic factors - is solidly delivered through the plot and dialogue, without being too heavy-handed, and it's a thought-provoking book that is required reading for graphic novel fans, or students of urban decay. Not sure why one would study urban decay, but man, Eisner sure loves that shit.

David B's story of his entire life with his epileptic brother and how it affected his family is simply astounding work. Intricate, Inky pages with a fevered style make his family -- and his imaginary friends -- very real characters. The epilepsy appears as a demon, and his symbology throughout the book make the subtexts of the panels entrancing. In addition to the personal emotional impact that the author portrays, he also delivers an intriguing story of alternative french culture of the 60s and 70s as his mother searches for anything -- macrobiotic food, faith healers, acupuncture, seances -- that might cure her oldest son's epilepsy. Not to be missed for graphic novel fans.

Westerner's stories about time spent in the DPRK (right? DPRK?) are usually gripping reading, like an Orwell or Carroll story made real. Guy Delisle's wonderful comic about his shift in North Korea as the quality supervisor for a french animation project that was being tweened by a State Animation Studio gives you a real sense of the isolation and ghost-town nature of the setting, with lots of great little details and outstanding pacing. It's a quick, rewarding read, especially if you liked Perseopolis.