Hey, you know what? I totally love comics. Not just making them, but reading them as well. However, it turns out that when you get really absorbed in trying to learn how to do something you love (like making comics), you can lose track of what made you love it in the first place. I know, I know — this is hardly new information. But it’s been the case for me in the last year or two, while I attended school and tried to get my skills up to where they could match my ego. (funny thing is, as my skill level increased, my ego plummeted. The more you know and all that.) Now that I’m struggling with the basics a bit less, I’m finding that my love of reading comics is coming back in a big way, and inspiring me to work harder, better, and smarter.
That being said, I’d like to try my hand at articulating what I like and dislike about the comics I’ve been reading lately. As great as it is that I’ve gotten back in the habit of reading comics, and examining them for inspiration, I think it would be even better if I force myself to put it into writing. Taking notes is always good, right?
So, first in the queue is the Michael Plessix adaptation of Wind in the Willows, published in America under the Classics Illustrated line (and it seems something of a revival of the name, to boot).

You want to know my dirty little secret? I’ve never read the book version of Wind in the Willows. At least not that I remember. I knew that it has something to do with a crazy toad, but that’s about it. So I didn’t have any real idea of what the story was going into reading this. Needless to say, it’s a fantastic story – evenly split between the story of the vain and hapless Toad’s misadventures pursuing his obsession with cars, and the story of Mole’s integration into the greater community of the river after he befriends Rat. It’s an interesting tale to have to adapt to comics, because of the two tones the book has – that of wild adventure and a slow contemplative meditation on nature. I don’t know that many authors could have so effectively tackled this combination – almost polar opposites.
But, Plessix’s art is nothing short of masterful, with every panel as detailed as possible and crammed with life and detail. Not to say that the book is any way too dense — he just knows how to make every corner of the environments he creates breath with life and authenticity. The landscapes and natural locations are rendered during every season, and regardless of whether it’s morning in a snowy forest or night on a sweltering summer day, you feel as though you’re there with the characters. There are many sweetly lingering shots of the forest, river or field where the characters in the panel almost become an afterthought.

But that doesn’t mean that the more adventurous passages are any less well done — quite the contrary. The sections in the latter half of the book, where (spoiler alert) Toad escapes from prison and is on the run trying to make it back to the river and his estate are just as thrilling as the earlier chapters are quietly beautiful. Plessix fills the human city where Toad was imprisoned wall-to-wall with people and buildings, rendered with absolute detail, throwing an intensely sharp contrast to the stillness of the river and forest. His action, too, is effective and filled with exactly as much motion and drama as is needed. If a single line is needed to show the motion of Toad being thrown from a train, that is what he uses. It only makes it more effective when Plessix more enthusiastically renders Toad crashing a car at high speed.

I can’t comment much on the adaptation because I haven’t read the original book – and for this reason I also don’t have much to say about the translation, either (this being originally published in French). But it doesn’t have the awkward language in poorly translated works, and since it was essentially translated out of english in the first place, it’s not a typical example. However, it does suffer some very poorly fit word bubbles and caption boxes – a problem that could have been easily fixed by inking new larger bubbles or simply moving text up in some cases. None seemed to need more than a small amount of extra room, and larger bubbles would have covered little of the original art. It’s a minor quibble, but formatting issues like this force me out of the story momentarily, and can effect the otherwise brilliant pacing of the book.
Overall, this is probably one of my all-time favorites now — and sits on the shelf next to my drawing table so I can stare at it with awe and envy while I draw my own comics. It only makes me more frustrated and sad that European comics have such a small audience in America. If we can embrace Manga so wholeheartedly, why not fantastic comics like this one? Vote with your dollars, people! Go buy this book.
