by Sam Maggs, Gabi Nam; based on the novel by Rainbow Rowell part one
I might be the only person who hasn’t read Rainbow Rowell’s original Fangirl novel, but I still enjoyed this first part of the manga adaptation! Fangirl is a sweet romance, coming of age and sisterhood story, focusing on Simon Snow fanfic writer and superfan Cath, and her identical twin Wren, as they start freshman year.
I was also that anxious teen who wrote a lot of fanfiction (and may have once submitted some for an assignment), and preferred anime over navigating the social world. Cath is both self aware and naive, vulnerable without being entirely pitiful; there’s a lot of heart in her character, I also see echoes of her in Rowell’s treatment of Runaways’ Gert Yorkes over at Marvel.
Gabi Nam’s manga artwork is charming, and she does a nice job of showing nuance and energy between characters – how Wren and Cath’s roommate Raegan challenges Cath, Cath’s anxiety towards college life and her dad, and of course Cath’s relationships with Nick and Levi who will likely find themselves in a triangle.
A few aspects of the book still feel a bit surface level – Nick and Levi, and I would have liked a bit more investment in the Simon Snow world that Cath is so in love with. Cath and Wren feel a bit like standard opposites too. It’s hard to say what’s been left out of the adaptation and what we might learn in volume two (we might not know much about Nick and Levi, for example, because Cath doesn’t have much of a relationship with either yet); or what might be lofty expectations for a YA romance. There’s a lot of good table setting, but it’s possible the manga doesn’t entirely translate if you haven’t read the book.
The romance aspect is predictable but still enjoyable, but what’s more compelling is how she grows alongside her sister, and how much of Simon Snow she chooses to take with her. Looking forward to volume two.
by Rainbow Rowell, Andrés Genolet, Kris Anka, Matt Wilson, Federico Blee, Joe Caramagna, Dee Cunniffe, & Walden Wong collects Runaways #25-31 volumes one | two | three | four | five
This is my 200th review on Reading Art! (✯◡✯)
Rowell’s got some interesting table setting going on in the first four volumes of Runaways. First we’ve got Victor Mancha and his “Victorious” programming (hinted all the way back in OG Runaways volume two), and more recently, Alex Wilder is up to something at the old lair belonging to the Runaways’ deceased evil parents, the Pride.
Only one gets a direct mention at the very end, but these long term developments dovetail nicely with this new arc: on a night of vigilantism, Karolina and Nico meet Doc Justice, “The City of Angels’ most steadfast hope!” Rowell brilliantly connects the Pride as Doc Justice’s nemeses, and he still pursues the crime syndicate they left behind. When the Runaways have to escape from their underground home, Doc Justice takes them in, and convinces them to be superheroes.
It’s a bit strange that only Victor has heard of Doc Justice, when all the kids grew up in LA, or that Doc waited so long to find the Runaways kids – if he’s indeed kept tabs on them, he’d know how talented they are. But it still feels like a plausible connection in the west coast Marvel universe, even though it sucksWest Coast Avengers was cancelled three months before this first issue was published. The mere concept of a Runaways/WCA crossover is too glorious, I’m upset just thinking about it (and Doc Justice would have had a much easier time recruiting Kate and co, as he soon learns).
Rowell still favors the emotional anchor for thrilling action, though we do see some of the Runaways superhero-ing as the new “J-Team.” Gert, the only runaway without powers, is pushed aside, even by Old Lace – which has happened before, and time around feels like it’s retreading old ground (though she also makes a great meta-comment about reincarnated superheroes). A bit more interesting and fresh are Chase’s pained looks leaving his beloved lair, and Nico learning physical combat with her staff, content to not be the leader anymore. Like Nico, I would have liked more reactions and growth from Chase, Karolina and Molly as they adjust to the new superhero life. Victor’s unbridled enthusiasm about redeeming his past nicely ties character development with aforementioned table setting. Of everyone, Molly takes the biggest seat back – but she’s now taller than Nico, and that counts for something. I’m glad they’re showing her age, instead of in perpetual preteen years.
The book pokes quite a bit of fun at decades-old teenage superhero teams, and yet it’s ironic how strange it is to see the Runaways as an actual superhero team. It could work, especially with the pathos of eradicating the syndicate their parents built, but we all know it shouldn’t, at least in the long run. That’s not who the Runaways are. (At least, it’s not who they are yet – we’ll see just how close Rowell sticks to the destiny Vaughan imagined for them.)
Regardless, it’s fitting that our Runaways teens – who were forced into adulthood far too early – have zero interest in the fame or Instagrammable content that comes with fighting crime. They’re not chatting with fans and signing autographs at the end of the day – they’re eating pizza together. The obsession with relevance, ironically, belongs to someone a few generations older.
While character development is uneven (and Doombot is gone, boo!), it still feels like a cohesive group with strong dialogue, and a well-paced story. Everything plays a purpose – Gib’s relentless hunger, the return of Molly’s cat, even the placements and excerpts Rowell chose for the “Stan Forever” pages – but Doc Justice and his assistant Matthew’s roles are more or less predictable. If you try to guess ahead, along with the pretty clear foreshadowing at the end of most of the issues, there’s a good chance you’ll be right. Regardless, the story serves to move Rowell’s bigger plans forward – the two bigger elements I mentioned at the beginning – and I’m still intrigued.
*Spoilers this paragraph.* The one loose end Rowell doesn’t neatly tie up is the reason behind the LADWP started drilling into the Runaways’ home in the first place. I assumed Doc was behind it, to give the Runaways a reason to move in, but we never find out – seems like we will next volume, at least.
Last volume, I was relieved as heck that Andrés Genolet honored and expanded on Kris Anka’s style, I’m not as crazy about his art this time around. It’s just not as consistent, and some scenes (like Nico’s training scene) and character designs (Doc Justice was a bit too Kurt Russell-y) felt unfinished or distracting. But when he hits a good run, man is it good – like Anka, just the right amount of kinetic, fluid expression. There’s a superhero costume scene that mirrors Gert’s fashion change a few volumes back, and it’s becoming a cute recurring visual pattern for the series. Genolet is coming into his own in the series, but I’m sorry, I’ll always prefer Anka, who returned to pencil #27 and it wasn’t nearly enough.
Runaways, while not as magical as Rowell’s first volume, is still at the top of my list when it comes out. I’ve rarely found a reboot with some of my all-time favorite characters that is so consistently engaging, both true to its roots and willing to take risks and develop the story. (Rowell could have rested fully on the original series and gone for mediocre – she’s doing the opposite.) I’m pretty sure Rowell is preparing me for heartbreak, but I’m still all in on the Runaways.
by Rainbow Rowell & Andrés Genolet
with guest artist Niko Henrichon, colorists Triona Farrell, Chris O’Halloran, Michael Garland & Matt Wilson, letterer Joe Caramagna, cover artist Kris Anka collects Runaways #19-24
volume reviews: one | two | three | four | five
Rainbow Rowell continues her successful new Runaways series in this fourth volume. While the whole gang is back, including one Alex Wilder, this installment is unfortunately weaker than its predecessors.
Thankfully, I’m not referring to the new lead artist, Andrés Genolet, who had big Anka-sized shoes to fill. While there is a difference, Genolet carries a similar style to Anka that is light and kinetic, neither too cartoony nor too realistic. Of all the characters his Chase is definitely strongest, though everyone is still drawn faithfully and consistently from the last volume. Anka is still missed (as is colorist Matt Wilson), though Wilson colors the final issue, and we are still treated to covers illustrated by Anka. The guest colorists keep Genolet’s pages bright and well-textured, with lovely gradients that are also reminiscent of Wilson’s work.
Unfortunately, the problems I am referring to are a combination of pacing issues, ‘show don’t tell’ violations, and drama that eventually bloats the story. This is one of the few volumes (perhaps the first) without any villains, and perhaps as a result, the book felt more like a series of vignettes than one solid, cohesive arc.
Some drama was necessary, particularly with Molly, who begins to suffer from depression after losing (and re-losing, in some cases) those dearest to her. She shares two emotional scenes with Alex and Chase that helps her process; it’s not the most mental health-faithful storyline, but it brings up a completely understandable reaction to everything that’s happened, and it’s nice to see the men in Molly’s life be there for her. I really hope we see some different growth from Molly; she also had an arc dedicated to her last time that I thought already produced some of the development we’re seeing here.
But other times, the story got lost in melodramatic dialogue, especially in the pages of philosophical banter between Victor and Doombot. These scenes were illustrated by guest artist Niko Henrichson, whose art felt off-kilter enough to make me question if it was intentional or not, and became distracting. It was a bit long and overworked, when the ending is still what you’d expect; I also felt a little cheated that the cover showed Gert and Victor together, yet this was basically a Victor/Doombot story without much payoff.
When it comes to growth among the teens, I don’t think anyone beats Chase. The dude is basically Dad to all of the other runaways: he not only works a job, gets groceries, and handles incessant group texts and calls, but when he gets said groceries, he buys menstrual products for the girls without complaint or shame. GIVE THIS MAN A GODDAMN MEDAL. While Chase seems to be moving forward, even flirting with a cute girl at the market, things suddenly grind to a halt when his feelings about Gert spill over and they have an emotional conversation about their breakup. It was, without a doubt, the most necessary drama of them all, but three-quarters of the way through, and among all of the other dialogue scenes (with Victor/Doombot and Karolina/Nico), it became too much.
GIVE HIM A MEDAL NOW
Nico and Karolina get the B plot this volume. In a great double page spread, Karolina has a productive therapy session, but her decision to try out superhero work felt uninspired, and was used to force a cliffhanger for the next issue (these cliffhangers are growing tiresome). Nico mostly serves as a Karolina support this volume (she got the spotlight last time) and makes the greatest wasted spell of all time. Tragically, Old Lace unfortunately still feels like an add-on, given even less to do than Doombot (who’s mostly lying unconscious) and Gib (the running gag of the volume, how to cure his hunger).
Far more interesting to me than the cliffhanger is what Alex might be plotting in the old Pride lair in Wilder Mansion. Hopefully this is some interesting table-setting for later (otherwise it was just one big tease, like those Victor/Gert covers). I’m disappointed that this has been my least favorite volume of Runaways so far, but I’m still in it for the long haul – hopefully it’s all leading up to a better volume five.
by Rainbow Rowell and Faith Erin Hicks graphic novel
Pumpkinheads is a sweet, lighthearted autumn story from dream team Rainbow Rowell (Runaways) and Faith Erin Hicks (Friends with Boys). It’s perfect for YA readers, fans of the fall season, and anyone looking for a short, heartwarming story.
It’s the evening of Halloween, and Deja and Josiah’s last night working at the Patch. The two have been working together every autumn at the Patch’s Succotash Hut throughout high school – next year they’ll be in college. Deja convinces Josiah to ditch the hut and finally talk to the cute girl at the Fudge Shoppe, whom Josiah has been pining after for years, and it leads them on one last snack and friendship filled adventure through the Patch.
Rowell and Hicks, individually, are masters of developing sincerely authentic characters who are easy to root for. So it’s special to see their powers combined in Deja and Josiah, whose friendship is central to Pumpkinheads. Deja became an immediate favorite with her easy confidence, witty nicknames for Fudge Shoppe Girl, and love of fall themed snacks (after the Patch, Deja should really look into being a crew member at Trader Joe’s). But most of all, Deja is far more than just a few minority-defining adjectives, and her dedication to Josie despite their differences was both endearing and believable.
Josie is a perfect counterpart to Deja; he’s more hesitant and passive than she is, but deeply caring about his job and his consecutive wins as best employee at the Patch. Their friendship is palpable, and the story goes in a surprising but meaningful direction when Josiah asserts the two were “meant to be friends,” while Deja insists that it’s a choice they each made all the time. Taking charge and creating your own opportunities in the midst of the end of an era, when things might feel out of one’s control, is a great message.
Deja and Josiah are relatable as high school seniors, but the two never used cellphones or referenced any kind of social media. Rowell’s choice to keep technology out of the story gives the book a sense of timelessness – it can’t ever be dated by its references. (Ironically, their mission of the night distracts them from a cute recurring gag.) Similarly, we never learn about Deja and Josie’s lives outside the Patch, and it’s unclear how much they know about each others’ actual lives. It allows us to stay focused on Deja and Josie’s last adventure, but also keeps us from really getting to know them.
Rowell’s prose books and her current Runaways series depicts characters who are authentic, but who are also complicated, have baggage, and form all sorts of dynamics with their peers. Pumpkinheads is enjoyable but also simple and predictable, since Deja and Josiah never show those other aspects – which, as teenagers, must exist to some degree. This book is likely intended for a younger audience, which is just fine, but was unexpected from Rowell.
Hicks has a very charming and original art style that fits perfectly with Rowell’s story and the drama of senior year. Characters are distinctive and expressive, and realistic enough that when a character is shocked, Hicks goes a little over the top for some great comedic effect. She really brings to life the charm of a pumpkin patch and the high point of fall, which is the best part of the book. In the postscript interview, Hicks shared her appreciation that Rowell provided the script and emotional beats, but she had the freedom to decide pacing and panels, and I think that really helped the emotion of the final arc shine.
Sarah Stern fills in Hick’s art with a gorgeous warm fall color palette, though it starts to cool down as night approaches. Speaking of which, I love how over the course of the book, afternoon turns to sundown, twilight and dusk with stunning gradients in the background.
The book is slim for a graphic novel already, but that’s exacerbated even more with far too many breaks in the narrative – 17 title pages for new chapters. The divides allowed Deja and Josie to get to each location without having a bunch of transitionary panels or empty dialogue, though sometimes important things happen in between. However, the breaks were choppy, and missed an opportunity for more story instead of blank pages.
Overall, Pumpkinheads is one of the most enjoyable stories I’ve read in a while, and I only hope we can look forward to more Rowell and Hicks collaborations in the future.
by Rainbow Rowell, Kris Anka & Matt Wilson
with guest artists David Lafuente & Takeshi Miyazawa collects Runaways #13-18 volume reviews: one | two | three | four | five
Rowell and Anka continue their fantastic Runaways reboot, this time bringing back major plot elements from the original run, including the Runaways’ first leader, Alex, who’s back from the dead! Sort of. But more importantly, Chase wearing pigtails! An Old Lace issue! Gert and Victor blushing at each other! Multiple Star Wars references! Get ready for a gush post!
The Runaways really became a family when they stopped their villain parents (“The Pride”) from sacrificing the world to the Gibborim, giant alien creatures. All of them died in the process, including the Runaways’ first leader, Alex, who also betrayed his friends. Now in this volume – picking up immediately where the second ended – Alex has returned and so are the Gibborim’s children, who seem less interested in avenging their parents, and more in the Pride’s incomplete human sacrifice.
The cover is a sweet callback to the Pride, with the kids in their parents’ costumes:
Rowell sets this up really well – we’re introduced to the Gibborim kids and Alex in the first issue, the Runaways have seven months to figure out a “sacrifice,” allowing for other stories, and that deadline arrives in the final issues. This allows the whole volume to feel like a complete story, even though the Gibborim characters aren’t really explored (save for one at the end). And just like the rest of the cast, Rowell has a strong handle on Alex, who obnoxiously takes over as team leader and clashes with just about everyone. As a result, the Runaways return emotionally to what made them a team, the tremendous sacrifice that made to save the world, and how far they’ll go once again.
That theme of sacrifice resonates throughout the B plots too, as Nico discovers something huge about her staff (involving Inuyasha’s twin), and Gert takes a risk that may sacrifice her happiness. It’s more than appropriate, since as teens we start learning how our actions can have big consequences. But there’s also plenty of lighter moments as Victor gets a sweet robot bod, Karolina and Nico sunbathe in their spare time, and praise the sweet lord, Doombot returns!
Rowell beautifully returns the Runaways to their roots, but at the same time each character (and the team as a whole) develops from the experience. There’s no resting on Vaughan’s laurels here, but I was disappointed that we don’t see or hear about Chase and Nico at their jobs, or Karolina serving on the nonprofit board. It might have been a little cramped with the rest of the story, but they seemed like important “growing up” markers in volume two that were forgotten here. There’s some great setup with a big choice Nico makes, and I’m curious to see how the Victorious future continues to play out due to Gert’s actions in the final issue.
Perhaps my favorite scene from the book was the adorably dysfunctional Christmas dinner. The Runaways are a family, but they’re still a bunch of kids.
I FRIGGING LOVE DOOMBOT.
David Lafuente’s pencils are….not completely atrocious, but it reminded me just how attached I am to Anka’s interpretation of the Runaways (even more than Alphona at this point). Lafuente’s cartoony style with pouty lips and bold outlines really threw me off. Faces looked either too cartoony or weirdly lumpy.
Anka and Wilson returning in #15 was like putting on my favorite sweater. Anka perfectly captures the emotional range of the Runaways, and Wilson’s gorgeous coloring, especially with facial tones, is just fantastic. This was Anka and Wilson’s final arc on Runaways, though they’re still illustrating the covers (this is 100% why I put off reading this for a week or two) and although I’m very excited to see their new two-part story “White Trees” with Chip Zdarsky, they will be sorely missed here. (I couldn’t take it and looked at the issue 19 preview, and I very much like Andres Genolet’s art. HUGE sigh of relief. Worth the spoilers.)
But can we talk about how Wilson’s coloring is just a dream.
Between Lafuente and Anka is an Old Lace interlude, illustrated by Takeshi Miyazawa. It’s a riff on Aja and Fraction’s fantastic Hawkeye # 11, told entirely from Lucky the Pizza Dog’s perspective. (Oliver Sava over at AV Club wrote a great article deconstructing this issue.) Old Lace even overhears humans the same way as Lucky, with short vertical lines indicating gibberish (to her) punctuated with words she does understand. The homage isn’t a bad thing, but when you’re riffing on one of the best comic issues ever made (I said it), it certainly sets a high bar.
The issue had a lot of potential, but it isn’t nearly as intricate or meaningful as it should be. Old Lace’s observations only repeat what we already know without stumbling upon anything interesting or surprising. Old Lace could have at least shown us part of the hideout we haven’t seen before that she made as her own. Miyazawa isn’t the most subtle of artists and there could have been more creative ways to show Old Lace’s thought processes and expressions. We also don’t visually see her sense of smell, which seemed odd to me.
Even with that disappointing midway issue, this was still a strong third volume in this series – Runaways is one of few I’ll buy straightaway without reading first. Awaiting volume four, and until then, I’ll be looking at this all day, every day:
Reading Art 