Showing posts with label creator: paul chadwick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creator: paul chadwick. Show all posts

22 June 2017

Review: Y: The Last Man: One Small Step by Brian K. Vaughan, Pia Guerra, Paul Chadwick, and José Marzán, Jr.

Comic trade paperback, 167 pages
Published 2004 (contents: 2003-04)

Acquired June 2016
Read August 2016
Y: The Last Man: One Small Step

Writer: Brian K. Vaughan
Pencillers: Pia Guerra, Paul Chadwick
Inker: José Marzán, Jr.
Colorist: Pamela Rambo
Letterer: Clem Robins

In her excellent book, Postapocalyptic Fiction and the Social Contract: "We'll Not Go Home Again", Claire P. Curtis defines postapocalyptic fiction as "any account that takes up how humans start over after the end of life on earth as we understand it" (5). Apocalyptic fiction depicts the end, but postapocalyptic fiction foregrounds what comes after the end; she argues that it's a combination of apocalyptic fiction and the pioneer novel, in that it "take[s] the social criticism inherent in the apocalyptic text and the utopian impulse of the pioneer novel and outline[s] an origin story ironically appropriate for our time when the frontier is absent and the possibility of catastrophe seems imminent. [...] End of the world accounts serve multiple purposes. They are both didactic and cathartic. They provide both the voyeuristic satisfaction of terrible violence and the Robinson Crusoe excitement of starting over again" (6).

from Y: The Last Man #11 (art by Pia Guerra & Jose Marzan, Jr.)

We can't tell stories of people living spare lives on the frontier because there is no frontier anymore; this is arguably the same impulse that gives us The Walking Dead, for example. I taught both Y: The Last Man and The Walking Dead in the same summer course on the apocalypse. And indeed, Y: The Last Man provides the "Robinson Crusoe excitement of starting over": we see in this volume how the women left after the "gendercide" have to do things like fill the gap left when popular entertainment is all gone, or how they even have women who fake being men with facial hair in order to provide sexual experiences to straight women.

11 May 2011

Faster than a DC Bullet: Y: The Last Man, Part II: Y: The Last Man: The Deluxe Edition, Book Two

Comic hardcover, 305 pages
Published 2009 (contents: 2003-04)

Borrowed from the library
Read April 2011
Y: The Last Man: The Deluxe Edition, Book Two

Writer: Brian K. Vaughan
Pencillers: Pia Guerra, Goran Parlov, Paul Chadwick
Inker: José Marzán, Jr.

Colorists: Pamela Rambo, Zylonol
Letterer: Clem Robins

Book Two of Y: The Last Man has more stories of shorter length than Book One: there are four instead of two. I'll try not to talk about them in turn, but rather talk about what worked for me as a whole-- and what didn't.

Let's start with what didn't, to be nice. By the fourth story, "Widow's Pass," things are starting to get a little repetitive. Yorick and company get to a place, Yorick flirts with local women, conflict emerges, everything ends in a big battle sequence. Now, there are constantly new things happening with the characters, but the main structure of each plot gets boring. I suppose only two of the four stories in this volume use that structure, but it also happened a couple times in Book One, too, so it begins to get dull.

Also, there's a tendency for dramatic reveals at odd times. Yorick, for example, has been chased by Israeli soldiers since the middle of Book One, but their marching orders have been coming from someone mysterious. But this mysterious superior is revealed to us before any of the characters-- why? When she's revealed to them, the revelation lacks heft, as we don't share in their shock. Plus, I don't even buy her motivations for what she does. (I like that this is a book where I can say "she" without narrowing down the cast of suspects one tiny bit.)

There's also a story, "Safeword," where a member of the Culper Ring, the world's weirdest spy organization, uses dominatrix techniques to force Yorick to reveal secrets about himself. Though I like where the story goes in terms of his character-- adding some needed complexity-- it feels forced as a method. And I kept going "What!?" Does she really need to do all these things to get what she wants to know. It does satisfactorily answer the question of why Yorick isn't sexing his way across America, though.

I've ended up talking about things I liked, so I'll stick with that the rest of the way through. The story about astronauts has a good premise-- what about those men in space? And the Russian sharpshooter character who wants an answer to that question, too, is just plain fun. And there's continuing development of all the characters here: Yorick, Agent 355, and Dr. Mann make a great trio. Also: lots of jokes.

Pia Guerra's art is good, too. It's pretty straightforward stuff, with no weird stylistic motifs, not too cartoonish, no manga influences, so bizarre shading. But she's just good. Everything looks exactly right. She's a good story teller, too; rarely do you get lost. And her work in the weird sequences in "Safeword" can't be impugned. (I also like the use of the time/place captions in this story to communicate other information. After umpteen issues of this convention, breaking it is incredibly surreal.)

As in the first volume, my favorite parts are those that give us that neat glimpse into the post-male culture. There's a whole story, "Comedy & Tragedy," about an acting troupe that springs up fill the gap left behind. They want to perform the high culture classics-- but the mayor of the town they visit wants to know if they could perform some resolutions to soap opera plots instead. Of course, like any dramatic presentation within a larger story, it gets all meta, but it's fun, and it also acknowledges the series' roots, with a nice reference to Mary Shelley's The Last Man.

My favorite of these bits, though, is a tiny little one. Yorick, despite being the last man alive, can travel in the open with a beard. Why? Because there's a whole group of prostitutes who apply fake facial hair so that heterosexual women can feel like they're experiencing what they've lost. What a neat little detail.