Delilah Dirk and the King’s Shilling

by Tony Cliff
volume reviews: one | two

I couldn’t wait any longer and picked up the second installment of Tony Cliff’s Delilah Dirk series! The book picks up several years (!) after Selim and Delilah’s meeting. While on their adventures, Selim dreams of visiting London; Delilah is reluctant, but is pulled into returning home when they encounter Major Merrick of the British army, who frames Delilah for espionage.

Delilah and Selim are delightful characters; they balance each other out very well, and while there are hints of romance it doesn’t feel like a typical “will they, won’t they” romance – though I’m expecting it eventually, Cliff is clearly focused on the adventure here. And this volume we get to know one of Delilah’s weaknesses: fixating on her reputation as Delilah Dirk. That eventually risks her relationship with Selim, and they emerge with some good character development.

But Cliff still keeps us at arm’s length from getting to know Delilah. There are several emotional moments, where the perspective suddenly switches to Selim’s limited perspective, losing an opportunity for the reader to get to know Delilah during a vulnerable moment, or simply her experience of returning home. It’s unclear if this is because it’s meant to be Selim’s story (contrary to the series’ title), or if Cliff simply chooses to maintain some mystery around Delilah.

Unfortunately, the story fell a little flat compared to the first volume. Merrick is such a boring villain and it takes a while for all the pieces to come together. (Frankly, I’m curious when Delilah’s nemesis will be another woman.) The story dragged a bit in the middle; things felt much slower compared to the gleeful, almost frantic romp of the first story. There also weren’t any other futuristic elements to the world, which was disappointing.

Even with those disappointments, Delilah Dirk is still worth the read, and Cliff’s art is still top-notch. There is a rough but expressive and kinetic feel to his art style. His action scenes communicate excitement well and feel like storyboards. While Spain had far more visual interest than London, there were also a lot of lush details to banquet halls, dresses, and horse drawn carriages. (I can’t say what’s accurate or not though, I have no expertise on that.) The coloring is also done very well and I feel immersed in Dirk’s world, even though it was a bit of a let down. I’m still looking forward to volume three.

Cosmoknights

by Hannah Templer
volume one

Cosmoknights was such a joy to read, I read through the whole thing in one sitting – and was still hungry for more! This gorgeous, creative and unapologetically queer comic from Hannah Templer is an absolute must for fans of She-Ra, Legend of Korra, and On a Sunbeam.

Cosmoknights follows Pan, who helped her best friend and princess Tara escape off-planet from a Cosmoknight tournament that would see her married off to a stranger. Five years later, she runs across Cass and Bee, who are also helping to liberate princesses from a similar fate!

First of all, Templer’s art is absolutely stunning. The space scenes – particularly Pan’s home planet with two moons – are gorgeous, but just as captivating are her exciting Cosmoknight matches (fans of Transformers and other robot stories will love this). The characters are so solid aesthetically, with light kinetic lines, great expressions and everything is consistent throughout. I loved the futuristic element that effectively communicated the world without going overboard – with nice details like an energy-force heel for a robotic leg.

While Pan is the typical protagonist through whom we get to know the larger world, she is spunky and easy to root for. But the real shining stars here are Cass, with a compelling backstory (she reminded me a bit of Scorpia from She-Ra, in the best way), and Bree, who is more of a mystery and I hope we get to know her better in the next volume (which I want immediately). These are grounded, authentic characters whose queerness is central to their identities but never once decorative or inauthentic. The dialogue is fantastic and Templer – like in her art – rarely has to rely on exposition, and organically world builds in a way that many veteran writers still can’t tie down.

Cosmoknights is grounded in authentic and lovable characters, a unique and compelling story. While they’re informed by values of inclusion and equality that can be summarized by “space gays smash the patriarchy in space,” the values are never explicitly front and center for their own sake. (Similar to the other comics/shows I mentioned, and Schitt’s Creek also comes to mind.) This is what makes Cosmoknights such a well written and satisfying story; in lesser hands it could have been so easily mismanaged.

teeny spoiler question! The announcer for Cass’ tournament says the winner will have the “honor of claiming the throne,” but how can they when Cass has four older brothers? Does the tournament supersede heirs by birth? Again, this is a small nitpicky question, I just assumed all the princesses in the tournament were single daughters.

Huge thank you to the I Read Comic Books group on Goodreads for the nudge to read Cosmoknights. It’s already a favorite of the year. Hannah Templer, you are now one of my favorites! I can’t wait to have Cosmoknights on my shelf and get my paws on volume two.

The Magic Fish

by Trung Le Nguyen
graphic novel

The Magic Fish is a poignant, moving and stunning work of art; a gorgeous graphic novel that provokes thoughtful connections between immigrant experiences, fairy tales, and coming out.

Nguyen’s debut graphic novel follows Tiến, whose parents are refugees from Vietnam now living in the US. As Tiến wrestles with coming out to his parents, his mother is also struggling with remaining connected with her ailing mother back home. As both struggle separately and together, they read aloud fairy tale stories to help Tiến’s mother improve her English.

The Magic Fish is a gentle and beautiful book but it also feels deeply personal, and it is, as Nguyen describes in the afterward. Tiến, Helen and the other characters are fully rounded characters who share their own experiences (with thoughtful pacing, and without any exposition), but it never feels like they’re aiming to be minority representatives who speak for all immigrants, queer people or people of color. Even though Tiến is the protagonist throughout, his mother’s story and her fears about her son quickly become the emotional anchor for the narrative.

The three fairy tales are each versions of the Cinderella narrative, but with different points of origin and interpretations, depending on who’s telling the story. Usually, the story-within-a-story doesn’t work for me, but here it only deepened and expanded Nguyen’s exploration of his characters and themes. The stories we tell ourselves, how we place ourselves and our idealized world within those stories, is especially important for minorities and those who feel like they have one foot in two worlds, but never both – not unlike the fairy tales’ protagonists.

Nguyen’s gorgeous and detail oriented artwork is as much of an experience as the narrative itself. Scenes are washed in one primary color, creating a strong mood that also separates the fairy tales from Tiến and his family. His simple style is still nuanced with lovely facial expressions (particularly Tiến looking at his crush!), and he really invested in the detail of the princesses’ hair and dresses (it was a bit reminiscent of Colleen Doran of Snow, Glass, Apples), giving those scenes a storybook, magical feel without disconnecting it too much from Tiến’s story. I also loved the panel structure, and how Nguyen used white space effectively – especially when several disconnected panels reveal one scene.

If anyone asked me why I loved comic books and graphic novels, I would proudly hand them The Magic Fish.

Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant

by Tony Cliff
volume reviews: one | two

Delilah Dirk is a fun romp that, like its lead, never takes itself too seriously and delights in mayhem.

This first volume introduces us to Delilah, rouge adventurer who specializes in swordsmanship and getting into trouble. During a skirmish with the Turkish army, she crosses paths with the straight-laced, tea loving Erdemoglu Selim, the least ideal traveling companion with Delilah, and their adventure together begins.

Cliff’s 167 page graphic novel zips by fast, but he successfully builds two characters who are easy to root for, along with a delightfully anachronistic setting of 19th century Istanbul. Delilah is a quippy and brash Indiana Jones/Robin Hood type who defies stereotypes without trying too hard, and Selim is the Watson to her Sherlock, a bit more grounded and esoteric, while trying to keep up. The pirate villain was very one note, and its playfulness might not land with older readers, but this is a YA book, and Cliff might be saving more development for future volumes.

Cliff’s art is gorgeously kinetic and expressive, along with lush colors that really make the world alive. I love when the setting is as much a character as the people inhabiting it, and that’s certainly the case here. He also uses creative typefaces to denote loud exclamations or sounds that add to the overall feel of the book.

Like Selim at the end of the book, it isn’t good to be away from Delilah Dirk for too long. Very much looking forward to the next volume.

Heartstopper

by Alice Oseman
volume one (released as a graphic novel)

Charlie and Nick are two characters from Oseman’s debut YA novel, Solitaire. This graphic novel, the first in a series and also illustrated by Oseman, shows the beginnings of their romance, and it’s so freaking cute I could hardly stand it.

Oseman hits all the right beats of a high school romance, but it doesn’t feel like a recycled high school romance story that switched some names and pronouns and poof! LGBTQ storyline. It’s just the opposite. Charlie and Nick are full characters, and each have their own arcs when it comes to their sexuality. Nick came out in year 9 of their all boys school, was intensely bullied, and is now popular – but still the only queer kid at school. Charlie thought he liked girls….until he meets Nick. The two navigate peer pressure, school parties, friendships, and emotional conversations over text – while becoming closer to each other. Oseman’s pacing knocks it out of the park as we get to know Nick and Charlie separately as well as their dynamic (and chemistry) with each other, which feels authentic and real.

Even though the book is in a muted blue color palette, Oseman’s art is still beautiful. She does a fantastic job with facial expressions – especially Nick’s head over heels looks for Charlie – and I love how she uses emojis in place of text at times, and sometimes using smaller versions of character’s heads to indicate who’s talking. And there are several wordless pages – Charlie asking Google some important questions, for example – that are beautifully carried by the art alone. Her lettering is a very casual, handwritten typeface, that certainly relates to the setting and its characters.

The only thing missing for me in this book was a bit more attention to the secondary characters – specifically, Nick’s sister Tori and his best friend Tao. We also barely see their parents in this opening volume – who certainly don’t have to be front stage, but it feels a bit strange for us to be missing that parent/teen dynamic. Hopefully we’ll see these other secondary characters shine more in future volumes.

I also needed this book to be longer. The volume ends on a cliffhanger – how could you do this to me, Oseman?! – so if you enjoy Heartstopper as much as I did (and you should!) be sure to have volume two on hand. I’m so thrilled to keep finding wonderful LGBTQ books that only try to be great LGBTQ romance stories, especially in the YA section. I’m excited for volume two.