Have you ever had a book that you like, but you’re hesitant to admit to reading? Sure, you can think of a million reasons why the book is awesome, but there are always a few more that make you want to hide your interest in it. That, my friend, is the definition of a guilty pleasure, and virtually everyone has one, including me.

Perhaps one of my favorite guilty pleasures in the realm of graphic novels (or at least one I’m willing to share) is Adam Warren’s Empowered.

One look at the cover and it’s pretty easy to guess why I might be embarrassed to admit I read this, and to be honest the cover says a lot about the nature of the series. To give a short summary, Empowered is a parody of every comic book theme out there. It’s filled with scantily clad and super curvaceous women, muscle-headed superheroes, and dimwitted villains. They run around with cheesy catch phrases and goofy names, making you laugh and wonder what absurdity is going to come next.

This humorous quality is best exemplified by the main character, a super heroine named “Empowered,” whose super powers stem from a suit that’s as fragile as her ego (which, trust me, could shatter from a faint breeze). Added to that is the fact that she apparently can’t wear anything underneath, which means that she is continually walking around in various states of near nudity, her modesty spared by a few shreds of fabric and some convenient censorship. Suffice to say, Empowered will make you laugh your ass off and blush at the same time.

However, beneath the superhero mockery and rampant fan service, I was surprised when I discovered a solid plot as well as ample character development. Unlike in most superhero titles where character growth is limited due to the need to maintain the status quo, the characters in Empowered actually change and round out as time goes on. There are even moments when Empowered herself becomes, dare I say it, bad ass.

So yeah, she’s not the greatest super heroine, nor is this the greatest superhero title, but it’s not supposed to be. It’s designed to be twisted, bizarre, mocking, and more than a little perverse. In many ways it’s the perfect marriage of American superhero comics and Japanese manga.

And although Adam Warren does an impressive job of giving his characters life and his story meaning, this remains a book that you don’t have to take too seriously. In a world where character death is a major selling point in comics, it’s nice to have a title you can rely on to make you chuckle instead of think.

-Brent

One of the most exciting new graphic novels to be released this year is Empire State – A Love Story (or Not) by Jason Shiga. Over the last decade, there has been an onslaught of romantic, slice-of-life comics that detail the trials of young adult relationships. I was somewhat reluctant to read yet another book of this genre. I mean come on, once you’ve read one awkward romance book you’ve read them all. Right? Compare it to your own failed relationships, sob, then move on to the fantasy of super-heroics to forget the pain.Yet, despite the fact that this is a genre that I don’t relate to as much now that I’m no longer in my early twenties, Shiga engaged my interest with Empire State through his distinctive style and narrative.

Shiga has a graphic storytelling style that is comparable to Chris Ware, while also being rooted in his signature puzzles. His pervious works the make-your-own-adventure book Meanwhile – Pick Any Path. 3856 Story Possibilities, showcases his ultra-refined mix of comics and puzzles . Shiga uses his puzzle gimmick in a more restrained manner in Empire State and it serves the story well. It follows shy librarian Jimmy as he pines over his best friend/true love Sara who has recently moved to New York City to start a new life. To his own surprise, Jimmy decide to follow Sara to New York and pursue her in a way he’s never tried before. Shiga divides the story into red sequences that represents flashbacks to Jimmy and Sara’s time together in Oakland, CA, and blue sequences that represent Jimmy’s cross-country trip to NYC to see Sara. For the most part Empire State jumps back and fourth between the two narratives. Occasionally though, the two color schemes collide suggesting a real time event in the course of the narrative, like the beautiful final panel.

The story in Empire State is also unique in that it’s not necessarily a love story, but a blur between love and friendship. Jimmy is perhaps more disappointed that his friendship to Sara is unrequited by her choice to move to New York then he is actually disappointed in his chances with forming a romantic relationship with her. This is young love after all. It’s very confusing. Considering this, Shiga choice to separate the story in the two color schemes perfectly reflects the friendship/love dichotomy and is yet another reason Empire State outshines many of it’s contemporaries.

The story is also suggested to be Shiga’s first attempt at a semi-autobiographical graphic novel. It’s not particularly clear what events are from Shiga’s true life, but regardless you can tell the whole story is genuine meditation on love and friendship. Empire State is definitely one of the best books to have been released this year. It shouldn’t come as a surprise then if it ends up an early contender for the 2012 Eisner award graphic novel of the year.

-Jon

At the beginning of the year, I promised to blog about manga I think is worth reading in 2011. This month I recommend Bakuman by Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. You might recognize the creative team from their other hugely popular series Death Note, one of my all time favorite manga. Though Ohba and Obata have reunited for Bakuman the series has very little in common with Death Note. Bakuman is simply a manga about creating manga. My initial thought given the simple premise was that it was going to be incredibly hard to keep up an engaging story for over 10 serialized volumes. Still, the first volume of Bakuman is one of the best manga I’ve read so far this year.

Bakuman is the story of Moritaka Mashiro, a rookie middle school artist who is goaded into collaborating on a manga by his overachieving classmate Akito Takagi. Moritaka is reluctant at first because he believes his uncle, a semi successful manga artist, committed suicide because of his grueling manga schedule and a tragic, lost romance. However, Akito tricks Mashiro into talking with the girl he has a crush on, Miho Azuki, and she promises to marry him if he becomes a successful manga artist. With the promise of marriage, Mashiro decides to team up with Akito, but they soon realize they might be in over their heads.

Like Death Note, Bakuman’s greatest strength is artist Takeshi Obata. Somehow Obata makes countless panels of Moritaka drawing a comic exciting, as if you were reading the action the character is drawing and not just looking at him sitting at a desk creating comics. Making mundane events action-packed is truly a talent, and for this reason alone I recommend both Death Note and Bakuman. The series also works as a comic within a comic. Every chapter ends with a thumbnail breakdown by Obata, reinforcing lessons learned from that chapter. As the series progress it will be interesting to see the manga the characters create.

Much credit should be given to the story as well. Writer Tsugumi Ohba is incredible at building suspense, even if the conflict is only presenting manga to a publisher. This is a real life adventure, and Ohba is successful at making the reader understand the incredible pressures of being a professional writer or artist.Yet, Ohba’s story is also uniquely Japanese. I think Ohba’s main focus is to explores the near suicidal pressure both Moritaka and Akito put on themselves to complete their first manga. I would argue a lot of American comic creators could learn he importance of deadlines (eek… I was ridiculously late on this blog) from Bakuman, but perhaps the Japanese as a culture could also learn from the series not to work themselves into the grave. Maybe it’s even an attempt by Ohba to reconcile the unlivable stress he puts on himself as a writer.

Either way, Bakuman is a new manga worth reading and you should check it out.

-Jon

“I have a tendency to become obsessed with things I really like,” says the guy who wrote 1600 words about Chris Claremont last week. My enthusiasm flares up suddenly, burns brightly for a while, and then after an indeterminate period of time the next new thing takes its place. That doesn’t mean I no longer love the object of my initial enthusiasm; it just gets pushed to the background while my new darling — whatever that may be — commands all my attention.

The strangest part of this phenomenon is that those items in the background can burst forth again and fascinate me all over again. Comic books obviously feed this tendency; I can read a book for months, and then something changes — writer leaves, new artist can only draw one face, Wolverine makes one too many unwarranted guest appearances — and I’m done with it. Until a few months later, when something else changes and it’s back on my list.

Usagi Yojimbo is the most extreme example of my mental foible. I bought Usagi Yojimbo in the 80s like it was my job to support this book. I talked it up constantly, made my friends read it, argued that it was better than Lone Wolf and Cub (an argument I would no longer be foolish enough to make, because they’re equally great and entirely different books) and went so far as to homebrew some rules for a Stan Sakai variant universe of warrior animals for Dungeons and Dragons. My connection with Usagi would have greatly affected my personal life, if I had had one at the time.

And then I didn’t buy it anymore. I have no idea when I stopped buying it, or why. I suspect it was due to Usagi’s slightly irregular publishing schedule, but I’m not positive.

After all these years and all the opportunities to catch up with my rabbit hero, it was the impulse purchase of a used Usagi Yojimbo graphic novel a few weeks ago that rekindled my fascination (that impulse was spurred on in no small part by the Webster Film Series’ amazing Akira Kurosawa festival). Actually, it was like gasoline thrown on a fire as far as my brain was concerned; I went back and bought all the used copies, and then bought five new ones, and I would have got more but I sometimes like to eat a meal.

Everything I loved about Stan Sakai’s feudal Japan remains, but it somehow seems more fantastic, more meaningful after all these years apart. Part of that meaningfulness no doubt comes from me being an older and ever-so-infinitesimally-more-mature person. Despite Sakai’s all-ages approach to his storytelling, many of his tales have emotional components that are adult in resonance; elements I glossed over 20 years ago to get to more sword fighting I now find to be the best part of the stories. Usagi’s complicated relationship with Nakamura Koji, the ronin who seeks to duel and defeat Usagi’s teacher and friend Katsuichi; Gen’s conflicted emotions about shouldering his father’s responsibilities; the perfectly-crafted arc of Usagi and his son Jotaro’s journey and eventual parting — these are beautiful pieces of a whole that is grander and more powerful than the younger me ever recognized. It’s enlightening and surprising to recognize that my favorite parts of my favorite black & white book are the grey areas. And, you know, the sword fights are still boss.

So, I urge you all to seek out a book you haven’t read for years, or to revisit one you once loved but long ago filed away in the back of the bottom long box. What you find may surprise you, especially if you’ve deceived yourself into believing you’ve never grown up, as I have. If that sounds like too much work, well, I’m trying not to be the guy who browbeats people to buy their favorite comics, but you could maybe take a look at Usagi Yojimbo, if you’re so inclined.

Usagi Volume 24 ships this week, if that’s any enticement.

-Paul