Susan reviews Princess Princess Ever After by Kay O’Neill

Princess Princess Ever After is an all-ages graphic novel by Kay O’Neill about two princesses joining forces to rescue people and save the kingdom from an angry sorceress, and it’s really cute.

Sadie and Amira are very different styles of princess; Sadie is a traditionally feminine princess with an adorable pudgy dragon, who’s been locked in a tower by a wicked queen, and Amira is an action princess with very cool hair and a cookie-loving unicorn. It’s fun to see their different styles work together for solving problems, and I enjoyed seeing them work together to solve problems like dancing ogres and grumpy princes and wicked queens, and rescue each other!

They also solve problems without violence, and by gathering friends and supportive acquaintances! I don’t know if it’s supposed to be commentary on stereotypically feminine methods of resolving conflict or the tropes of magical girls and princess stories – but also I want stories that have all of the tropes of magical girls and princess stories, but with queer leads, so it worked for me. Plus: the drama is based on sibling relationships, rather than wicked mothers or stepmothers, and that’s a very welcome change. (Especially for me; complicated sibling relationships are my kryptonite.)

The art is very cute (and impressively different from her other all-ages graphic novel, The Tea-Dragon Society). Sometimes it’s maybe a little too simple, but it does work for the story being told, and the last page makes up for it.

It’s a light and fluffy story that reads very quickly, but it feels like a fairytale, and to be honest: that’s all I wanted. If you’re in the mood for a fluffy queer fairytale, this is a good place to start.

Susan is a library assistant who uses her insider access to keep her shelves and to-read list permanently overflowing. She can usually be found writing for Hugo-winning media blog Lady Business or bringing the tweets and shouting on twitter.

Danika reviews Motor Crush Vol 1 by Brenden Fletcher, Cameron Stewart, and Babs Tarr

There are plenty of good reasons to like Motor Crush. The world is intriguing: Domino races by day in motorcycle races that serve as the main source of entertainment in this society. She’s tracked by a floating camera asking for constant updates and interviews. By night, she races gangs, where there is no limits to the lengths you can go to in order to win the pot. (You can see Domino’s weapon of choice on the cover.) While others race for Crush because it boosts their engines (and apparently motorcycles can get addicted to it??), Domino needs it to live.

And Domino is a great main character. She’s a little rough around the edges and doesn’t always treat the people she loves the way they deserve, but she’s passionate, and beneath the prickly facade, you can see how vulnerable she is and how she wants to be better. She resents her adoptive father for keeping secrets about her parentage (and how she can consume a stimulant made for engines), but she hides her condition from the people who care about her.

The plot balances the high-paced motorcycle races (both gang races and official ones) where crush (the drug Domino is dependent on) is on the line and debts must be repaid with Domino’s more introspective journey, where she struggles to unearth the truth about who (and what?) she is while simultaneously reaching out and pulling away from the people who are trying to support her.

I haven’t even mentioned the art, which details a world subtly different from ours in beautiful layouts, and conveys the action and speed of the races without being cluttered and confusing. The characters are distinct and frankly gorgeous, if with very small waists.

Those are all good reasons to like this comic! But what really sold me on it was Lola.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BeHDOadhGrk

Who can resist a beautiful, curvy, femme woman with hot pink hair who’s on a motorcycle? Did I mention that she’s a mechanic, too? Swoon.

             Shout out to Steven Universe for establishing this as my type

Lola is Domino’s ex-girlfriend, and it’s not hard to see why they split: Domino refuses to let Lola in, and without knowing about her dependence on crush, her lifestyle seem inexplicably reckless. Still, they clearly both deeply care about each other and do make a good team, so I hope that they are able to work through it.

Even if you don’t share my swooning for Lola’s design, there’s a lot to like about Motor Crush, and I’m really excited to see what volume 2 brings.


Aoife reviews Always Human by Ari (aka walkingnorth)

always human
Always Human is a sci-fi webcomic set in 24th century Australia, where people now use ‘mods’ to essentially continually genetically engineer themselves – ranging from anti-cancer mods to fashion mods. People who don’t/can’t use mods are at an automatic disadvantage, particularly in terms of schooling – they can’t use memory mods and focus mods like the rest of their peers. Suntai is 22 and interning at a virtual reality company, while Austen is an 18 year old genetics major at uni. They meet at a train station, and the story goes from there.
I love this webcomic. It’s adorable, the art is amazing, the concept is great, it’s really diverse… I just love it. It’s really refreshing to read something set in Australia, even if it’s not exactly my Australia – it’s set in future WA, for one thing. (We still have vegemite, it’s all good). The vast majority of queer literature I’ve read is set in America, which is fine, but it’s not a culture I’m super familiar with or 100% comfortable in.
While the story is a romance, it’s also a meditation on how humanity interacts with technology, and an exploration of the pros and cons of that relationship. The worldbuilding is so good. It’s evident that Ari’s put a lot of thought into it, and there are some great little details, like the debugging scene, which makes her world seem very realistic. I’d be interested in knowing what mod access is like in terms of money and class, but it’s set up so issues like that can be explored in the future. If not, Ari does answer questions both on her tumblr and in Q&A pages.
One thing I particularly love about this comic is that future Australia has a lot of diversity – just like current Australia – but it’s accepted and normalised and lovely. Lots of the cast are racially and ethnically diverse, including our two main gals; we have an asexual character, and at least two non-binary people. The technology fits in with gender diversity really nicely: instead of needing surgery and hormone treatments if you want to transition, you just buy a mod – which is even cooler for non-binary or agender people because, while the majority probably couldn’t afford to do it daily, if you feel like changing it up, or become dysphoric, you can go right back.
I’m not going to go much into the details of the relationship, because I don’t want to spoil anything. It’s adorable and I love Suntai and Austen. Their friends are really sweet as well. I also love the way Ari uses their relationship to explore their world, and how problems are dealt with in a healthy and communicative way. It’s lovely. So far, it’s what Danika would call a cotton candy comic. AND I LOVE IT. I spent my read going “ugh it’s SO CUTE I WANT A GIRLFRIEND”.
Always Human updates on Saturdays, and is currently two chapters into its second season. If you’re looking for a lovely, light read with beautiful visuals, this is for you.
No trigger warnings I can think of, unless you’re a little leery of discussions of hospitals and chronic illnesses.
This and other reviews by Aoife can also be found at https://concessioncard.wordpress.com/.

Casey reviews Y: The Last Man

y-the-last-man

You’d probably expect there to be never-ending lesbian action in a science-fiction series that imagines a post-apocalyptic world where all mammals with XY chromosomes have suddenly and en masse dropped dead.  In the Y: The Last Man graphic novels, though, the women have a lot of other important things to do—you, know, like making sure humanity doesn’t die out entirely and all.  Also, they need to figure out why one single cisgender man and his pet male monkey have somehow survived this mysterious plague.  Ironically, the “last man on earth” is kind of a loser: an unemployed English major named Yorick (after the character in Shakespeare’s Hamlet) who’s an amateur escape artist.  His adventurous anthropologist girlfriend Beth is half way around the world in Australia while he’s back in the US when all the men die; for most of the series Yorick is obsessed with trying to find her, despite the fact that his life may hold the key for the survival of the human species and he needs to be doing other things.

Along for the journey with Yorick are two really amazing, dynamic, flawed characters.  One is Dr. Allison Mann (or “doc” to her two traveling companions), a geneticist and scientific genius who’s cynical and sarcastic and hilarious; she was definitely my favourite character.  She also happens to be a lesbian—as in, she actually identified as queer before the plague, after which women don’t really have any other options.  I appreciated a few things about how the books dealt with Allison’s sexuality: one) the fact that she’s a lesbian is definitely not the main focus of her identity; two) she’s Asian-American and I’m always pleased to see complex queer characters of colour in fiction; three) her gender probably falls under what I’d call chapstick femme and in comparison to other characters’ more masculine genders, I thought it was an unconventional and interesting choice to establish her as the self-assured lesbian.  Later on in the series, Allison gets a really awesome girlfriend who’s an Australian pirate/sailor with an eyepatch.  For serious.

 

The choice to make Allison gay is especially remarkable in comparison to the other member of the series’s trio, a government secret service agent whose real name is never revealed.  Known as “agent 355” or three-fifty to Yorick and Allison, she’s a no-nonsense, super tough butch African-American woman who pretty much kicks ass (literally) the entire series.  It was quite the twist, actually, to find out that Allison is a lesbian and 355 isn’t (happily, this doesn’t stop 355 from a bit of Sapphic dabbling though).  At one point she utters this brilliant line: “I am so goddamn tired of killing people.”  The evolution of her character is quite fascinating, as you watch her slowly form emotional attachments to Yorick and the doc, whom it’s her duty to protect as they travel the world.  Both women, actually, begin the journey relatively emotionally closed-off, for various reasons in their past that the comics explore through flashbacks.

If you enjoy stories that feature lots of action and tough, hot women kicking ass and saying ‘fuck’ a lot, this is definitely a graphic series for you.  Actually, if you like that kind of thing you’ve likely already read this (and own a copy of the movie Tank Girl like me).  But I think Y: The Last Man would also appeal to readers who wouldn’t say action and violence are their thing, or folks who wouldn’t call themselves comics fans.  Although its gender politics aren’t perfect—or rather, I wouldn’t say I always found it to be in line with my brand of feminism—Y: The Last Man opens up a really interesting dialogue about gender.  Namely, if you think a world made up of women is going to peaceful and loving and that women can’t be power-hungry or greedy or violent or cruel or militaristic, this book is a strong argument to the contrary.  In other words, patriarchal values don’t die with the men.

Some of the phenomena of the post-plague world are really fascinating.  For example, there’s an extremist so-called feminist cult who call themselves the Amazons who think mother earth exterminated men because she realized creating them in the first place was a mistake.  They basically go around burning down sperm banks and killing women who don’t agree with them/make the mistake of mourning men they loved.  Other women discover a new brand of sex work, cross-dressing as men and sleeping with (formerly) heterosexual women.  The what-if world of Y: The Last Man raises some intriguing questions about the nature of sexual orientation: are straight women still straight with no men around?  Are they some kind of situational lesbians now?  After a period of time of being necessarily queer, would these women be as heterosexual as they had been in the past if men somehow came back?  There’s a surprisingly romantic pairing at the end of the series (between two previously hetero women) that especially brought up these kinds of questions for me.

One thing I would have liked to have seen addressed more is trans issues.  The fact that trans men are still around (because they don’t have XY chromosomes) is mentioned occasionally and there’s one particularly bad-ass character who’s on a revenge mission because the Amazons, thinking he somehow managed to escape the plague, killed her boyfriend who was trans.  Regrettably, though, when this character is first introduced she refers to her boyfriend using feminine pronouns.  Very basic research by the authors would have told them no partner of a trans man would ever use ‘she’ to refer to him; thankfully, when this character is re-introduced much later, this pronoun issue is fixed (I’m guessing because a gazillion people told them using ‘she’ was totally not cool).  Like I said, this series is definitely not perfect—for reasons like the trans pronoun issue—but overall I recommend it as a thought-provoking science-fiction exploration of gender and sexuality that just happens to feature a ton of bad-ass gorgeous women.

Danika reviews Charm School Book One: Magical Witch Girl Bunny by Elizabeth Watasin

3

I’m very glad this book exists. It is adorable. It takes place in Little Salem, a magical place filled with monsters, faeries, and supernatural beings of all kinds. Bunny is a cute witch with a badass, butch, biker, vampire girlfriend, Dean. Their relationship is really sweet, and Dean is the quintessential swoonworthy bad boy butch. And they go to queer youth meetings with zombies, mummies, demons, and lots more people! Oh, and they attend Haunt High, where they learn about potions, magic, and other supernatural elements.

Unfortunately, Bunny’s problem is that she’s always had a thing for faerie girls, who are unattainable–closer to gods than mere mortals. When Fairer Than, a gorgeous faerie girl, takes a liking to Bunny, her relationship with Dean is in danger. But Fairer Than isn’t like other faeries (or, after all, she wouldn’t be slumming with witches). What’s her motivation?

I also appreciated that although Bunny and Fairer Than appear to be white, Dean is asian (or, at least, her birth name is “Yu Ying”) and Bunny’s best friend Blanchet is black. Unfortunately, Dean’s father kind of looks like a caricature of an asian man, and Blanchet is a “voodoo princess”. So I’m not sure how to think about Charm School’s depiction of race. Still, I’m used to Fantasy books using supernatural creatures as stand ins for minorities and not including any people of colour at all, so I’m guess my bar is pretty low.

Just having a supernatural world with a biker butch vampire and a cute lesbian witch was really fun for me. It sort of reminds me of Halloweentown, if that was a lesbian teen cartoon. I would love to read the next book if I can get my hands on it, and I think this would make a great, fun Halloween read.