Skip to main content

Comic Book Review: Wet Moon by Sophie Campbell

I'm back to reviewing stuff! That's right, folks...every so often, whenever I feel like it, I review some comics or books or movies or whatever that I think are either really good, really bad, or just important. For my first review in a long time, here's Wet Moon by Sophie Campbell.

Wet Moon
Book 1: Feeble Wanderings
Sophie Campbell
Oni Press

I was handed Wet Moon Book 1: Feeble Wanderings by a friend with little introduction except a mysterious look, a kind of sidelong glance that could indicate mischief or apprehension. Glancing at the cover, I was immediately struck by the fact that, despite showing its main character, this image and title gave away absolutely nothing. Who is this cute, pudgy goth babe? Why does she appear to be shrinking from encroaching blackness, yet leaning forward with a hungry, curious look? What the heck does "Wet Moon" mean?

Whatever it means, this is one hell of a weird, funny, haunting comic...and gives new meaning to the phrase, "Southern Gothic".

The plot is complicated, so I'll only give a rough outline: Cleo Lovedrop is attending the local college in Wet Moon, Louisiana, and hanging out with her friends Audrey, Trilby, and Mara. Among this threesome of disagreeable outsiders, Cleo is the odd girl out, and never seems sure how to react to their brittle, aggressive behavior. As she attempts to navigate this minefield of drama, she keeps running into her enigmatic ex-boyfriend, Vincent, and mysterious signs claiming that "Cleo eats it". This is a town where weird things and weird people show up every day, but it's ordinary angst which causes our heroine the most unease.

I fell in love with the black and white interior art from page one. The round linework of the main characters gives them a Kewpie-Doll look that's at once girlish, sexy, and somehow grotesque - something in the raccoon circles under their eyes, or the swollen fullness of their lips. The backgrounds are spare linework, but have a crowded, quiet intensity to them. The characters themselves, with their fluid sexual preferences and dubious fashion sense, are endlessly intriguing; every time a new character showed up, I kept wondering, What's her story? What's his story? Campbell plays it coy, teasing us with details and withholding what we really want to know.

What I loved about Wet Moon's writing is its reliance on conversational dialogue: no information is directly given, no narrative boxes tell the reader how to feel. It's somehow objective and intimate at the same time. Each character has their own voice, and their diction is often the only indication that they're about to explode into tears or tantrums. Cleo's bewilderment is often our own - she's our window into this strange world, yet often turns opaque and mysterious as all the other characters. 

This story is truly Southern Gothic, both in pun and in plot. Where this story intersects with Faulkner is not just in the stifling, weary, beautiful setting of the swamps and bayous of the Deep South. It's also in the way tiny social interactions seem infused with dark meaning, and strange characters ripple through the narrative as though through a fever dream. The grotesque is only a block away, and every yard of every creaky old mansion has its buried skeletons. The character's Goth style is only an outward manifestation of something at once morbid, sexy, and darkly self-absorbed about the literary American Deep South.

I loved Wet Moon Book 1, and I'm excited to try and find the next volume of this mysterious, weird, and deeply funny graphic novel.

Final Verdict: 4 out of 5.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Problem with Reconstructing Deinonychus

So as you may know, I am partly obsessed with dinosaurs. Scratch that - there's a small lobe of my brain devoted to dinosaurs. I love em, God help me. I even have a super-double-plus-top-secret dinosaur comic maybe in the works...but you didn't hear it from me. Anywho... Part of my problem is in the reconstruction of said prehistoric beasties, namely those icons of American dino-obsession, Deinonychus ( Velociraptor  to you Jurassic Park  aficionados...it's not just a Hollywood bastardization, there's a complicated story behind it which I covered in this old post ). Now, we all know what Deinonychus looked like: wolf-size, sleek, toothsome head balanced by a long tail, grasping front claws and of course the eponymous "terrible claw" on its hind foot. The shape is burned into our collective unconscious; you could construct the most fantastic amalgam of different bits and pieces, but as long as you include the sickle-claw, you're golden. The devil, of

Artist Spotlight: Tom Eaton

I wanted to do a quick artist spotlight on Tom Eaton, best known for his work in Boy's Life Magazine. I used to have a subscription to Boy's Life  when I was a kid; unfortunately I didn't keep any of them, as they just weren't...I don't know, not really worth keeping. I just remember it as being 90% toy advertisements, some "how to get along with others" advice, the same camping article reprinted 20 million times, and some half-funny comics. As the years went on, the advertisements got bigger and louder, the articles became less interesting, and the comics section got shorter and shorter. But there was one gem hidden in the midst of the mediocrity: artist Tom Eaton. He wrote and illustrated "The Wacky Adventures of Pedro" ( BL's  burro mascot), "Dink & Duff", and myriad other comics, crossword puzzles, games, and short pieces. He was the magazine's resident cartoonist, and about the only reason I actually read the magazi

The Horrendous Space Kablooie!

Sorry, Bill Watterson, but I just couldn't resist using this one...all hail Calvin and Hobbes! This comic illustrates a point that confronts us when we attempt to speak about the titanic phenomena occurring in the universe every day. We can speak of a supernova exploding "with the force of x  megaton bombs", or a star that "could hold a million of our suns"...but ultimately all this is meaningless. When the standard unit of interstellar measurement, the light year, is about 8.7 x 10¹² miles, human language (and thus, comprehension) just sort of...blanks out. Here's a lovely example: I'm currently watching a JINA-CEE video about novas in parasitic binary star systems . Essentially, a small, dense star (such as a neutron star) will form an orbital relationship with a larger, less-dense giant. The denser of the two will start vacuuming material off its host, adding to its mass; however, because of its size, it compresses the material into its "