100 books like Americana

I love the way Lisa Hanawalt draws nearly anything, but I especially love the way that Lisa draws animals, the desert, and the West. If you’re a Bojack Horseman fan, you’ve already fallen in love with her innovative cartooning style (she was a Bojack producer and its production designer). Her work here is all absurd movement, perfect timing, hilarious expressions, and, oh, yeah, a main character that’s a horseback-riding half-coyote, half-dog, full of messy humanity—a visceral, subversive Western, as delicious and satisfying as sleeping under a starry sky. 

The immediacy of Whit Taylor’s work and its accessible, urgent symbology is especially poignant in this diary of her Montana road trip with her husband.

Diary comics are one of my favorite genres of graphic storytelling for reasons exemplified here: you are engaging with Whit’s experience with this sprawling, beautiful land and its brutal history alongside her. Big sky, to her pen, to your eyes. It’s an intimate experience, one that comics do best.

The iyashikei (literally ‘healing’) genre of manga and anime concerns itself mainly with deeply character-driven narratives where nothing much happens. Except, of course, the simple living of life is beautiful, often the sweet spot where everything happens, and the creators behind this work know it.

This book is a pinnacle of that genre, a gorgeously illustrated meditation on the beauty of camping, campfire cooking, and the landscapes of Japan, as seen through the eyes of a thoughtful, funny group of high school girls. 

Eleanor Davis’s line is one of my favorites anywhere in comics. She gets so much movement and flow in the width and depth of her inkwork. That movement is at some of its finest here, chronicling her glorious, arduous bike ride from Arizona to Georgia.

You are arrested by her work immediately, rooting for her and the folks she encounters throughout the journey, all rendered with a nib’s organic caress, giving them and the entire book a rooted, organic, alive feel. The road laid out before you, shimmering with possibility. 

This is the backstory of Spiegelman’s two-volume masterpiece.

What was the impetus for MAUS? How did comic creatures find their way into a Holocaust narrative?  What were the reactions to such a unique merging of cartoons and historical horror? How has Spiegelman dealt with the book’s tremendous reception?

The book answers these questions with many interviews, photos, explanations, and reflections. Even agent and publisher rejection letters are included.

OK, I have to say this upfront: a lot of comic-book aficionados don’t care much for Bob Kane, Batman’s co-creator. He took too much of the credit for coming up with the Caped Crusader, at the expense of writer Bill Finger. And there are details in the autobiography that seem to stretch the truth. But I wanted to get Kane’s perspective on Batman and his development over the years. As a bonus, the book has complete color reproductions of several early Batman adventures. 

I really like this book because, while it doesn’t teach much about the actual drawing, it does give the young artist a jumpstart to begin drawing and telling their own stories. The authors include pages and pages of drawn-out panels with word balloons ready to go. I’ve always believed in letting kids find their own path with drawing style, and this book is perfect for that.

For those interested in a compelling work of fiction built loosely around Nazism and the occult, Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay is the perfect novel.

Whether it’s one of the protagonists, a young Jewish magician, escaping Nazi-occupied Central Europe in the coffin of the “Golem of Prague” or the eponymous cousins finding success with their own comic book series infused by contemporary esoterica, Kavalier & Clay evokes the world in which young, first and second generation Jewish immigrants from Central and Eastern Europe created the Marvel and DC superheroes and super(natural) villains, often allied with the Third Reich, that have defined our popular culture for the past eighty years. 

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow is a masterpiece in my opinion. This deeply personal story is based on the author's own life and the loss of his fiancé. A look into someone else’s struggles and hardships using drawing and photographs, notes, and sketches this novel is truly a beautiful collection of their relationship together. This one really resonates with me and hurts my heart, but I love it so much and I highly recommend picking up a copy as soon as you can.  

I passively disliked gerkhins until I met this pink, clueless one who’s writing and drawing a book on mental challenges, among other things. 

Yes, there are drawings and multicolored pages in an autobiographical book about depression so deep that it keeps the author in bed. Gaspingly funny and told with searing honesty, the book is about dogs, a partner, and a house that needs caring for–caring that she isn’t in the mood to do–and a to-do list that stays undone while she whiles away her time doing nothing.