Inkstuds Radio

Kate Allen thanks the Museum of Natural History on the inside cover of her comic Milk Teeth. This may lead you to believe that the comic might be a little earnest, a little boring. Don’t worry; even if you could avoid the skinless unicorn on the facing page, the eyes blooming from the art nouveau roses framing the acknowledgements should be a clue that something this book is going to be weird. But, wait, let’s back up a page. The cover, which shows a mermaid breastfeeding a baby unicorn in a shitty, rundown kitchen, is a great transitional image—it moves the reader from whatever mundane environment they are in to a fantasy world that, however shrouded in myth, emanates menace.

Each of the five stories opens with an anatomical drawing of one of the creatures featured, providing glimpses of the thorax, ascending colon and lesser coverts. The details provided give some depth to the creatures that populate the stories, from the aforementioned mermaids and unicorns to flying cherub heads that shit out of their rosy bow mouths and are preyed on by bloodthirsty angels.

In the first story, a morose Renaissance noblewoman communes with tamed nature in a royal garden. A pheasant struts by but it does nothing to relieve her sadness. Like most femininity across time, she is surveiled; in this story, her watchers are two dudes who look like they stepped off of a set of erotic playing cards for lovers of pale, pouty boys. When it looks like there will be nothing to see, the lady’s paramour appears and gives the watchers an unexpected and disturbing thrill.

Most of the thrills in Milk Teeth are of the unexpected and disturbing variety. The longest story in the book, and also the only one with dialogue, is about mermaids. Instead of the kindly, sexy version, Allen’s mermaids are predators of the sea, scouring the ocean floor for manta rays to chomp on. But, even their majesty and killing power can’t save the mermaids from human appetites. Remind you of another story about mermaids?

Though I usually like bright, saturated colors, I think the muted palette does the important job of removing the stories from this reality and forcing the reader to pay more attention to the details. Only black and white and the shades of two colors to bring the title-less story to life. Using the texture of the originals’ paper adds depth to the backgrounds, especially skyscapes.

It almost feels like Milk Teeth is a pamphlet of addendums that fell out of a mysterious book of fairytales and fluttered down to rest on the comic shelf. Though I know that lots of folks have picked this book up, it still feels like these creepy stories were written just for me. I hope you’ll feel that way too.

Last year I met Chuck McBuck at SPX. He was such a nice guy, and when he said he made comics and had some inside, I got a little nervous. What if his work was really bad or embarrassing? What if his work had giant balloon tits or ninjas in it? He led me over to the CCS table he was helming with Alex Kim and handed me a stack of comics made with creamy papers and stinky inks. I needn’t have been worried.

In April of this year Snake Oil 1 appeared in my mailbox. SO1 is number one of the two parts that make up McBuck’s CCS thesis. It begins with two trash men in a diner. Tim is heartbroken (and looks familiar…) and Bob is hungry. Soon Tim will feel much worse.

Later, we meet nice-guy Bob’s goth son Darryl and Darryl’s angry, lustful friend Kim. They are bored and decide to smoke some weed out of a pipe Darryl finds in his house. Kim starts without him and will soon feel much worse.

All the story threads end up as cliffhangers in SO1. Normally this would be incredibly annoying, but the differing landscapes that Mc Buck creates keep the plot from being an overwhelming element and keep your eyes on the pages exploring the art. The black and white pen drawings render policemen and buffalo thugs equally well.

The little touches in SO1 (endpapers that include elements from the stories strewn in a mysterious weed-filled lot, beautifully done title panels, the melancholy back-up story and the cover’s graphic eye-tease) made me excited for number 2 and called for a reread in between the issues, a must for a series where issues come out sporadically.

Both cover colors of SO2 are striking, but the blue called out to me. The plot pushes the characters further into distress and one of the mysterious characters is revealed. My favorite chapter (?) is a one-pager called simply “Darryl” that, in four panels, shows us more about the character than pages of dialogue could. Besides a few standout panels, such as the chorus of meows in “Pretty Kitty” and Bob and his wife waiting at the door in “Slow Down,” the art in this issue was less innovative. While I liked the writing in the back up story, I didn’t really enjoy looking at it.

Overall, Snake Oil reflects McBuck’s keen eye for creepy detail and a knack for pacing that much older artists should be envious of. I am really looking forward to see what he does next.

Happy Ignatz(s) Chuck!

[Yes, try harder readers, you have seen this one before. All upcoming reviews will be Inkstuds-exclusive, I promise.– Carrie]

Hello Inkstuds fans and pervy googlers,

My name is Carrie and I’ve been interested in comics since my teenage-rage zine reading days when I read a black and white, copier-smudged tale about a nicotine-starved bunny with itchy fists named “I” and “D.” Since moving to New York my interest has grown into a sweet, borderline-shameful love for the form. A few years ago I started writing about comics and more at try harder and have published reviews on a variety of sites.

Recently, Robin contacted me about writing comic reviews for Inkstuds. Surprise! I am grateful to inkstuds for getting me through the hellish summer of 2008—two jobs a day, no natural light—by offering great interviews with comics creators, no eyestrain required. Now that my perma-headache and tingly butt have gone the way of short-shorts and mosquito bites, I enjoy Robin’s work even more.

Anyway, my job here will be to, twice a month or so, review comics of the small press/ indie/ mini variety. Got something you think I should see? Drop me a copy at:

Carrie Try Harder
TTS PO BOX 113
New York, NY
10108

or send me an email:
ms.tryharderATgmail.com

So, what’s the best thing you’ve read recently?