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Oh.
Oh wow.
Oh, seriously, wow.
Within three pages, I was intrigued. Within ten, I was impressed. By the end of the first issue, I had felt genuine inspiration, compassion, amusement, shock, and delight in turns. And I still had four more to go.
I'm not bragging when I say I read a lot of books. And part of the reason I write reviews is because, having been taught critical thinking at a young age, analysis has always come naturally to me. I read, I compare to what I've read before, I appreciate what's done well and think about what could have been done better. I can spot an archetype at fifty pages, name five commonly-used devices off the top of my head, outline the rising action of a plot, and name the roles each major character plays in an ensemble piece.
The downside of these abilities, however, is that it puts an emotional wall between me and the story. I want to be dazzled, to be impressed, to be swept off my feet. But I've read so much by now, and been disappointed enough times, that it's really difficult for me to get excited about a new story. When it starts off strongly, I hold my breath, afraid it's going to let me down by the end. And often it does.
But once in every long, long while, a story comes along that impresses me so much, I let down that guard and end up just taking it on its own terms. It's a rare thing; the author has to convince me that they know what they're doing, that the ship is going somewhere amazing and I can let them steer. That this story managed to do so within its first issue amazed me; even The Sandman, my current go-to example of amazing graphic-novel storytelling, took a good five or six issues to really find its feet. Needless to say, I burned through the rest of the collection in that half-mad state every avid reader hopes to find: that thrilling realization that I genuinely had no idea where this was going, and that I had to know.
Of course, I still don't know, because this is the first (and as of this writing, only published) volume of an ongoing series. But in these paltry five issues, it manages character development, worldbuilding, and emotional inspiration on a level many longer series can only dream of achieving, all the while planting seeds of implication and foreshadowing that hint at a thoroughly involved (and, I hope, meticulously plotted) greater storyline. If the writers can cash even half the cheques they've written in this first volume, it's going to be a great series; if they can keep this level of quality up for the subsequent volumes, it may knock Sandman out of my personal #1 spot. A++ with cherries on top
Oh wow.
Oh, seriously, wow.
Within three pages, I was intrigued. Within ten, I was impressed. By the end of the first issue, I had felt genuine inspiration, compassion, amusement, shock, and delight in turns. And I still had four more to go.
I'm not bragging when I say I read a lot of books. And part of the reason I write reviews is because, having been taught critical thinking at a young age, analysis has always come naturally to me. I read, I compare to what I've read before, I appreciate what's done well and think about what could have been done better. I can spot an archetype at fifty pages, name five commonly-used devices off the top of my head, outline the rising action of a plot, and name the roles each major character plays in an ensemble piece.
The downside of these abilities, however, is that it puts an emotional wall between me and the story. I want to be dazzled, to be impressed, to be swept off my feet. But I've read so much by now, and been disappointed enough times, that it's really difficult for me to get excited about a new story. When it starts off strongly, I hold my breath, afraid it's going to let me down by the end. And often it does.
But once in every long, long while, a story comes along that impresses me so much, I let down that guard and end up just taking it on its own terms. It's a rare thing; the author has to convince me that they know what they're doing, that the ship is going somewhere amazing and I can let them steer. That this story managed to do so within its first issue amazed me; even The Sandman, my current go-to example of amazing graphic-novel storytelling, took a good five or six issues to really find its feet. Needless to say, I burned through the rest of the collection in that half-mad state every avid reader hopes to find: that thrilling realization that I genuinely had no idea where this was going, and that I had to know.
Of course, I still don't know, because this is the first (and as of this writing, only published) volume of an ongoing series. But in these paltry five issues, it manages character development, worldbuilding, and emotional inspiration on a level many longer series can only dream of achieving, all the while planting seeds of implication and foreshadowing that hint at a thoroughly involved (and, I hope, meticulously plotted) greater storyline. If the writers can cash even half the cheques they've written in this first volume, it's going to be a great series; if they can keep this level of quality up for the subsequent volumes, it may knock Sandman out of my personal #1 spot. A++ with cherries on top
