Fishtown
By Kevin Colden
IDW

When I first reviewed Fishtown, back in January, the artist was using Act-i-vate to publish a page a week of the book, which is based on a true story and follows four Philadelphia teens who brutally murder and rob their friend Jesse (the character’s name in the book). Now Fishtown is out in hardcover, courtesy of IDW, which means that readers can take in the rest of what began as an emotionally charged, upsetting, and incredibly well executed comic.

In the latter part of the book, Colden maintains the same narrative distance with which he starts. He reserves passing judgment on the kids, focusing instead on fleshing out the characters and approaching the tale as something of a question or a puzzle. This feat is particularly impressive given that this section of the book includes a reenactment of the murder. Colden’s drawings–whether they show the run-down Philly neighborhood of Fishtown all in inky yellow and blue and black or the horrifying scene of Jason’s slain body, stained in pink blood–are haunting. But the most affecting panels are the ones depicting the four teens—Adrian, Keith, Justin, and Angelica—committing the act of murder.

Narrow close-up panels of each character slow down the action of the boys bearing down upon Jesse with a brick, a hatchet, and a rock—and of Angelica as she stands by and watches; the staccato rhythm of these spreads points out the deliberateness, the intentionality, of the act, which fills the reader with disbelief. We want to dismiss this as fiction, but we can’t; instead, we wonder: How on earth could they do this? What possessed them?

The word “possession” seems particularly apt in some cases. Colden paints Angelica essentially as the devil, overlaying phrases from a letter she wrote to Justin while in prison with scenes of her crying in front of the police and offering a damning testimony against the boys. The letter suggests serious mental instability—if the story has not already done so—as Angelica confesses her love for Justin, swears she would never betray him, and contemplates the difficulty of crying in order to make the police believe she is remorseful. And when the boys climb into the back of a police van where she sits waiting, she flashes her breasts at them and smiles a vixen smile.

At first it seems that Colden has overdone it a bit in this portrayal, but research about the real crime will tell any reader that he actually may have underdone it—if such a thing is possible. Consider a sentence quoted in the press from the real Angelica’s (Justina Morley’s) letter: “I’m a cold-hearted, death-worshipping bitch who survives by feeding off the weak and lonely. I lure them and then I crush them.”

At the close of the book, the four murderers walk to the courthouse with photographers and a crowd yelling behind them. Angelica and Keith smirk and laugh, seeming to feel no remorse; Adrian looks ready to fight; and Justin looks like a deer in headlights. The group is a picture of disturbing ambiguity. Then, once they are inside, Keith is called into a room, the first to be questioned by an invisible psychiatrist, and the last panel of the story becomes the first.

In that moment, Colden locks the reader into a chilling cycle of violence and betrayal, and the only way out is to shut the book and push it aside. Even then, it’s too late to pretend it never happened.

–Jillian Steinhauer

XO #1-3
by Brian John Mitchell and Melissa Spence Gardner
Silber Media

Format can do a lot to influence the attractiveness of a book, but even unique and unexpected styles of bookmaking can blend in at big conventions like MoCCA or APE. However, at a small Midwestern show like the Madison Zine Fest, unconventional books have a chance to really stand out.

It was there that I noticed three ultra-mini minis (1.75×2.25″) sleeved in small plastic bags and sitting unattended on a banister. I thought about taking them. They would fit in my pocket. No one would know. The sensation passed, however, and good karma struck back. The books were given as a gift to my table mate who gave them to me. Now I share them with you.

Baby corn, puppies, doll-sized furniture – typically these and other small things define cute. One might expect that XO, a series of mini minis would be cute as well. Even the series’ title XO implies kisses and hugs and touchy-feely stuff. However, these books are anything but cute, because each contains a story of murder.

It’s completely disarming and even kind of funny, if such a topic can ever be funny. The stories are told from the first-person perspective of a guy who without emotion keeps killing people either by accident or without remorse. The guy is a total sociopath, and the things he does are so unbelievably dry and strange, it makes the book’s plastic slip-case seem like a metaphorical body bag or some caution to keep out the younger set.

Each page is filled with a single illustrative panel hovering above a few sentences of plot, in a kind of Far Side style perversion. The odd combination of art, layout and typography makes the stories seem even weirder. Thick, awkward lines outline human shapes and thin straight lines accent the shadows. Each drawing is trapped tightly in a box and clipped at all sides to make room for the words. The font used is some standard sans serif, one you might use on a website or a term paper or, you know, an unassuming murderous comic book series.

Each book left me stunned and laughing awkwardly just to release the unexplainable tension. I’d call them modestly awesome. You can pick up copies of XO dirt cheap for $1 apiece or all three for $2 from Silber Media.

Have a Happy Halloween tomorrow.

- Sarah Morean