Articles from and news about the premier and longest-running academic journal devoted to all aspects of cartooning and comics -- the International Journal of Comic Art (ISSN 1531-6793) published and edited by John Lent.

Wednesday, September 24, 2025

Graphic Novel Review: Second Shift by Kit Anderson


 reviewed by Maite Urcaregui, Assistant Professor, San José State University


Kit Anderson. Second Shift. London:  Avery Hill Publishing, 2025. 160 pp. US $20.33. ISBN:  978-1-9173-5520-9. https://averyhillpublishing. bigcartel.com/product/second-shift-by-kit-anderson

 

         Kit Anderson’s Second Shift (2025) creates a science-fictional world in which a corporation named TERRACORP© terraforms “outpost plantet[s]” in the hopes of creating another Earth (30). The protagonist, Birdie Doran, works as a scientist on one of these outposts as part of a three-person crew that includes Heck and Porter. The crew maintains the mechanical “miners” and “farmers” and cares for greenhouses of moss, attempting to create the conditions necessary for human life on a frozen, wintery planet. Doran and crew are accompanied by a shape-shifting AI companion named Station that creates “a seamless, beautiful world” to distract the workers from their isolation and inhospitable surroundings (18). Ultimately, it’s the tensions and connections that arise between the crew, the corporation, and their environment (both natural and artificial) that make Second Shift so interesting. This sci-fi graphic novel opens conversations about corporate power, the exploitation of people and the environment, the limitations of AI, and the power of art that are all too pressing in our own non-fictional present.

Structurally, each chapter of Second Shift is prefaced with a black and white splash page that contains an excerpt from the “TERRACORP© for LIFE!” handbook, corporate propaganda that creates an ideological smokescreen to mask the dreary work conditions crew members face. Rhetorically, these splash pages achieve two things:  first, they flesh out the storyworld for the reader without using exposition, and second, they create a sense of suspense and surveillance. The entry that precedes Chapter Two, for instance, clarifies the nature of the crew’s work:

 

Your outpost planet has amazing potential for life; it’s overflowing with (frozen) water. It’s rich in lots of necessary minerals...and we’re taking care of the rest!

 

You can help, too! Care for your moss house; it’s making oxygen for you and your crew. Maintain the miners and farmers, so they can capture minerals and create soil. Because what’s Earth without...earth?

 

Sure, it may be a little cold outside, but that’s nothing a few years won’t fix. Just how many years is that?

 

Don’t worry about it! (30).

 

In the span of a splash page, readers have a clear understanding of the setting, a frozen outpost planet that’s not Earth, and the storyworld, a dystopian world in which conditions on Earth have necessitated the exploration of other planets. Just what those conditions are remain ambiguous and unanswered throughout the graphic novel, but the extractive corporate language might be a clue. Like so many of our real-world corporations, TERRACORP© extracts natural resources and exploits workers, selling them on the cruel optimism, to draw from Lauren Berlant, that their work is part of a greater good and evading the more unsavory realities. The reader can’t help but get pulled into this corporate narrative; the second person address speaks to both crew members and readers alike. Anderson’s insinuating use of the second person “you” reminds me of Inés Estrada’s Alienation, in which an implant called a “Google-Gland” speaks to characters and readers through the second person, creating a sense of inescapable surveillance. The corporate ideology that convinces workers that their work is “mysterious and important” also rings of the dark humor that has made Severance so popular.

In addition to indoctrinating them with corporate ideology, TERRACORP© also attempts to appease its workers by controlling their dreams and altering their realities. Through an excerpt from the “TERRACORP© for LIFE!” handbook, the opening splash page of the graphic novel informs readers:  “between shifts on TERRACORP© outposts, all crew members are dropped-in to our company-exclusive DreamSpace®. While inside, they can use their stasis time to brush-up on employee trainings, enjoy credit-earning promotions, and embark on specially-tailored dream* (0).

Even in their “stasis time,” the crew members can’t escape work. Their dreams are transformed into “employee trainings” and “promotions” and sold back to them as an exclusive perk. This “free-time” also isn’t free. An asterisk informs readers and employees that these so-called benefits are “subject to credit allowance.” The handbook acknowledges “the drop-out process,” the process of coming out of the DreamSpace® and re-entering reality, “can be a little unpleasant,” but it quickly brushes aside by asking, “ISN’T IT ALL WORTH IT?” (0). The corporate co-optation of workers’ dreams speaks to the voraciousness of late-stage capitalism, where leisure and dreams become just another playing field for profit. Porter, the whistle-blower on the crew, who quickly is dropped-in and drops out of the rest of the narrative sadly, draws attention to the blurred boundaries between DreamSpace® and work when he asks, “Dropped-in, dropped-out, what’s the difference, right?” (10).

TERRACORP© also alters the crew members’ realities during their working/waking moments. Their AI companion, Station, changes its form and enhances the environment based on the crew members’ preferences. For instance, when Doran is working in the moss house, she asks Station, “make the moss house a little more interesting,” to which Station replies, “Sure! You unlocked this one yesterday... You earned it!” (32-33). Station’s response speaks to the gamification of a system that asks workers to work harder for trivial perks (the sci-fi version of an office pizza party). This gamification of both work and leisure is reiterated paratextually on each chapter’s title page, which include pixelated icons as if out of a vintage video game.

While Doran is initially satisfied with this system, her colleagues, Porter and Heck, are more disillusioned, and much of the plot involves Heck pushing Doran to see past the artificial distractions that surrounds them. The fact that this fictional exploration of AI-generated visuals is told through comic form makes it even more powerful. The friction between AI-generated and artist-generated images comes to the fore in a scene toward the end of Chapter One. As Station guides Doran and Heck on a “sleeptrip,” the white gutter of the page turns to black as the characters move into sleep. The AI-generated dream, however, is of a human creating a landscape portrait from within its frame, painting the shades of the sky and drawing the details of a leaf before placing it onto a tree branch. The human behind the artwork is obscured, however. Readers never see their body in full, only zoomed-in shots of their isolated hands or legs. In the final splash panel of the portrait, the human is gone altogether. By turning the comics frame into the frame of a painting, Anderson uses the comics form to create a hand-made work of art that’s created by AI. It’s all very meta. Anderson artfully creates a Russian doll image that calls into question the role of AI in art and comics and draws attention to the dangers of disappearing the hands, or the labor, that produce it.

As the plot progresses, Doran and Heck begin to question if, “Terracorp is even still out there,” if they’ll “be left waiting for a signal that may never come. Just...dreaming” (69). The blurred boundaries between consciousness (both being awake and being aware) and dreaming (both literal and figurative) are at the heart of this sci-fi story. In this way, Second Shift, Anderson’s first full-length graphic novel, builds on her earlier work, largely independently-published minicomics, including the Ignatz-nominated “Weeds,” and a collection of comic short stories titled Safer Places (2024), also published by Avery Hill. In these earlier works, Anderson frequently uses science-fiction, magic, and fantasy to explore existential concepts, such as the nature of reality and the malleability of memory. Second Shift is an admirable addition to Anderson’s corpus. In it, Anderson effectively uses paratextual elements, chapter framings, and the narrative and visual structure of comics to pull in readers, keep them guessing, and have them questioning their own realities.

Tuesday, September 23, 2025

Book Review: Chinese Animation. Volume 1: Religion, Philosophy and Aesthetics

 

 reviewed by John A. Lent, editor and publisher, International Journal of Comic Art

 

Thomas Paul Thesen. Chinese Animation. Volume 1:  Religion, Philosophy and Aesthetics. Ahrensburg:  Thesensches Offizin, tredition GmbH, 2025. 822 pp. ISBN:  978-3-00-080811-1. https://www.chinese-animation.com/

      Thomas Paul Thesen’s Chinese Animation. Volume 1:  Religion, Philosophy and Aesthetics is worthy of the accolade, plentifulness--with 822 pages; 41 pages of references to works in Chinese and English; an index of about 820 characters tied to religion, film, animation, philosophy, and other areas; 1,301 information footnotes, and access to 143 landscape paintings, Chinese ink-wash, and other types of animation films, available through a digital version of figures. An added technical bonus is that the book is designed as reader-friendly with a larger type font, double-spacing, sturdy paper, and names of works in both English and Mandarin, and Chinese individuals’ names in the Latin alphabet, Chinese characters, and Pin’yin spelling.

Thesen is very up front when discussing how he went about putting the book together, stating that his not knowing Mandarin “can be rather sensitive as the texts permit various interpretations, which, of course, will steer away from the original meaning of the often ancient texts”; that his efforts to keep the philosophical and religious concepts” understandable, “rendered many of them superficial and often lacking depth,” and that his knowingly making broad statements “not necessarily accurate in all their details” was again meant to be understood by the layman, avoiding the complexities of some concepts in their original wording.

What the reader must be aware of, besides Thesen’s scholarly integrity, is that he has succeeded in transforming much theoretical, philosophical, and technical wording into highly-readable text, and has utilized the services of six Chinese translators to ensure accurate language, all of whom he lists on the imprint page--Ho Dan’yuan, Wang Lexie, Lee Hui En, Chan Yen Ly, Chan Ying Xuan, and Wu Zhi Yun.

In this masterfully-crafted volume, Thesen meticulously explains China’s major teachings (Confucianism, Daoism, Chinese Buddhism, and folk religion), as well as “The Six Principles of Painting” (spirit-harmony-life-motion, bone manner by use of the brush, conformity with objects in portraying forms, follow characteristics in applying color, plan-design the place-position, and transmit-propagate models by sketching), laid down by Qi and Liang dynasties painter Xie He (active, ca. 500-535), and the additional aesthetic principles (naturalness and regularity, openness and suggestiveness, emptiness and substance, blandness, perspective and depth, and realism). In each instance, the author enlightens the reader with information about the evolution of these teachings and principles, as well as paintings and animated films related to them.

All of this background leads up to the main thrust of Chinese Animation…, the unique traditional Chinese ink-wash painting, and its spinoff to animation. Thesen spends considerable wordage on landscape painting as the cradle of ink-wash art, beginning with Six Dynasties (220-589) artist and musician Zong Bing’s initial description of landscape painting, through the Tang (618-907), Song (960-1279), Ming (1368-1644), and Qing (1644-1911/12) dynasties, going into detail about various painters’ lives and their works and some animated films that appeared later.

China’s major contribution to world animation, ink-wash, constitutes the fourth, and last part of the book, analyzing the country’s ten examples--“Where Is Mama?” (1960), “Little Swallow” (1960), “The Cowherd’s Flute” (1963), “The Deer’s Bell” (1982), “Feelings of Mountains and Waters” (1988), “The Foolish Scholar Shopping For Shoes” (1979), “Squirrel Barber” (1983), “Jia Er Sells Apricots” (1984), “36 Chinese Characters” (1984), and “Lanhua’hua” (1989). Normally, “Where Is Mama?” “The Cowherd’s Flute,” “The Deer’s Bell,” and “Feelings of Mountains and Waters” are designated as the only ink-wash productions; Thesen’s inclusion of six shorter works adds to future research possibilities.

To satisfy this reviewer’s futile attempt to find a shortcoming of Thesen’s work, perhaps, if he had interviewed ink-wash animators during his decades of research, their views would have added more authority to his findings. However, to overload him with this task, would be like having a railway maintenance worker of old, who had just put in a full day tamping ties and laying rails, then proceed to the coal mine to start his ten-hour shift. A bit exaggerated, but you get the point. Thesen does include quoted material of animators, such as Duan Xiaoxuan and Te Wei, gathered by other scholars.

Chinese Animation. Volume 1:  Religion, Philosophy and Aesthetics is a one-of-a-kind trough of facts, theories and concepts, history, and viewpoints on Chinese landscape painting, ink-wash and other animation forms, and the teachings and principles endemic to China and its art, all tied together, free of academese, presented in a flowing style, abounding in fascinating side stories, rigorously researched, and scrupulously analyzed. It is a “must” for university libraries and researchers and students serious about animation as a field of study, and a “highly-recommended” for those fascinated by Chinese culture.


Graphic Novel Reviews: Enchanted Lion Books

graphic novel bundle.jpg 

Reviewed by Liz BrownOutreach and Instruction Librarian, University of Colorado, Colorado Springs.

Enchanted Lion Books features a catalogue primarily from the Eurocomics scene, although with diversions to other countries and continents. They frequently feature illustrations with strong painterly influences, including works by well-known artists, such as Matthew Forsythe, Daniel Salmieri, and Yuki Ainoya. The subject matter is poetic, contemplative, and emotionally aware. Their titles, particularly from their picture book line, have won multiple awards and recognitions. Many of their titles are clearly chosen for broad appeal across age ranges, and their Unruly Imprint is for “picture books intended specifically for adults and teenagers.” Readers who already read graphic works are likely to be a receptive audience to this line, and additional appeal may come from those who enjoy and collect visually-based books, such as artistic monographs. The following reviews include books marketed towards their middle grade/young adult readers.

            Blexbolex. Translator:  Karin Snelson. 2023. The Magicians. Brooklyn, NY:  Enchanted Lion Books.

         The Magicians is a story of three self-serving magicians who escape their confines only to be pursued by a stubborn Huntress and the single-minded Clinker, who are intent on keeping their mischief under control. The plot follows its own internal logic, rather than a strict narrative structure, playing with the concept of the characters’ internally-generated methods of creation. The magicians, as with artists, can create their own realities, but also get stuck inside that which they create. Over the course of the story, clear lines of who is the protagonist and who is an antagonist erode as the characters’ identities are interrogated and manipulated by outside forces.

Each page of the book is a full panel, with a few lines of spare dialogue or explanatory text captioning the framework of the story. Blexbolex takes advantage of the generous gutters to entrust his audience to fill in details and nuance. The artwork features Blexbolex’s characteristic style, but the illustrations are more visually complex than his prior work for picture books, including densely-layered stencils that create a broader color palette featuring half-tones and shadows. Visual references to vintage illustrations call to mind the works of Henry Darger, with additional cross-cultural references to Asian graphic arts.

 

Fig. 1. The Huntress succeeds after a battle. Page 106.

         While the fairy tale framework of the story might appeal to young readers, the visual complexity, absurd bends in the plot, irreverent humor, and focus on the development of character identity suggest that older readers--teens and adults--are a more likely audience for the work.

         Isol. Translator:  Lawrence Schimel. 2024. Loose Threads. Brooklyn, NY:  Enchanted Lion Books.

Loose Threads is one of six picture books created for the exhibit, “Palestinian Art History as Told by Everyday Objects,” organized by the Palestinian Museum in Birzeit, Palestine. It imagines a story on the surface of the hand-embroidered shawl that illustrator, Isol, received when visiting the Tamer Institute for Community Education. The work plays with the concept of the front side of the embroidery, where the designs are legible iconography of traditional Palestinian cross-stitching, and the back side of the embroidery, where you see the abstract shapes formed by the work between the stitches. Isol’s story is a digital collage about the characters living on the visible side of the embroidery. They keep losing objects that slip through the small tears in the fabric, into “the Other Side.” Plucky heroine, Leilah, sets out to mend the tears, but her patches don’t have the intended effect.

 

Fig. 2. Leilah dreams about the inhabitants of the Other Side.

         The images in this work are largely full-page spreads with no more than five sentences of text, broken into five short chapters. It would be a good transitional book for students who progress from picture books into longer material and who are working on reading independently.

As the Gazan genocide continues to unfold, this book has particular interest and poignancy in sharing Palestinian culture through material objects, but it is worth noting that Isol is a Spanish-speaking, Argentinian artist invited to work on the project, not a Palestinian herself. The book’s theme of mending is both a literal device in the story, but also alludes to generational healing and the passing down of heritage.

        Oyvind Torseter. Translator:  Kari Dickson. 2016. The Heartless Troll. Brooklyn, NY:  Enchanted Lion Books.

         A contemporary retelling of the Norwegian fairytale, “The Troll with No Heart in His Body,” The Heartless Troll begins with the third son setting out to rescue his brothers and make his fortune. Torseter has an established cast of characters whom he grafts into different roles throughout his books. Central is the Moomin-like, donkey-headed hero, Prince Fred--simple, trusting, and malleable--who is frequently the protagonist in Torseter’s works. But more interesting--both in writing and visual design--are the newer characters introduced for the story. Prince Fred’s anthropomorphic, reluctant nag provides an amusing counterpoint to Fred’s tepid heroism. Torseter gives voice to what is traditionally an unspeaking role in the story, using the steed’s cowardice as a source for his witticisms. The monstrous Troll visually calls out art history references, including Leonard Baskin’s prints and Picasso’s “Guernica.”

 

Fig. 3. The first night of Prince Fred’s quest.


The illustrations revel in their physicality, with inked lines and textured backgrounds imitating the grain of drypoint etchings, and intentionally-visible collaging of materials in large spreads. The drawings feature spare lines on large swathes of black, with limited color employed for emphasis. The work is in the same milieu as Anne Simon’s comics, especially her adaptation of Greek myth in The Song of Aglaia, but Torseter sticks to sparser dialogue, a simpler plot, and less allegorical intentions. His retelling is amusing and visually interesting, but lacks the substance to hold up to deeper probing.

             Oyvind Torseter. Translator:  Kari Dickson. 2023. Mulysses. Brooklyn, NY:  Enchanted Lion Books.

         Mulysses is a composite story, drawing tropes from multiple sea-faring sources, but not a true adaptation of any particular one. The story contains pursuit of a menacing whale, as in Moby Dick, escaping the island of a one-eyed monster, as in Ulysses, plumbing the ocean depths for mysteries, as in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, but with an irreverent and absurd tone that is uniquely Torseter’s own. The comic’s primary cast is, once again, made up of Torseter’s recurring characters--the eponymous, mule-headed protagonist; his elephant-headed, sea-captain foil; and generic, female, “harbor tavern gal” love interest; along with cameos of other recognizable characters in the background. Mulysses is out of work and about to be evicted. With a one-week deadline looming over him, before he loses all his worldly possessions, he signs on to a questionable voyage captained by an eccentric millionaire in hopes that the reward will be enough to recover his belongings from storage. Of course, with both an inept captain and crew, only mayhem can ensue.

 

Fig. 4. An average day for Mulysses at sea.


Along with Torseter’s established grainy line work, collaged spreads, and limited color palette, he has started incorporating printmaking techniques into his work. He uses stamp printing for texture in his panels--clothing and hairstyles for background characters, wheels on vehicles, furniture, waves in the sea--and also layers colors in halftones, either in imitation of or truly printing with a risograph. The use of these printing methods is tentative and experimental, but the results seem worth pursuing further, as they add tactility to the illustrations, which Torseter is clearly in pursuit of when making his art. The book’s design is in a horizontal format, which intentionally calls to mind photograph albums, as one might have once used to store vacation snapshots; however, it should still fit on most standard bookshelves. While the content is appropriate for all ages, Mulysses’ motivating worries over rent and work mark this as a comic geared for adults. It would appeal to fans of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (dir. Wes Anderson, 2004)