Becky Cloonan’s Wolves


There is only so much one can do with black and white. There is also so much one can do with around 20 pages.

Thankfully Wolves was created by the master hands of Becky Cloonan.

First, let’s talk about the art. Thick, black ink shadows cast themselves over the artwork- setting the perfect mood. It’s the mood of pain, of loss, fear, love…
When trying to talk about the style, all you can really come up with is “The style? Well, it’s Becky Cloonan- it’s her style.” It’s Demo, it’s American Virgin, it’s Northlanders. It might not look the same in every book, but she has her distinct style. And really, would you want it any other way?

In a time where the supernatural monsters are becoming this weird combination of soap opera and teen masturbation fodder, it’s a relief to read a book where a monster is brought back to the olden days, to an actual monster- a monster that must be stopped, no matter whose heart beats inside of it.

It’s a short story- and that makes it all the more powerful. You can feel the hunters pain and loss from the very first page. Hell, you can even tell right from the cover. A lone man, sword drawn, in a white expanse with a dead tree. Yeah, this guy is not happy. And why should he be? The job he has been given is close enough to killing himself.

20 pages of fantastic art and fantastic story. 20 pages is all we need to run the gamut of adventure, betrayal, love and loss.

Pick yourself up a copy of Wolves. It’s one of the best comics you’ll buy. It’s a 21st century fairy tale and you will go back to it again and again. Because, really, you can’t read it just once. I bet, as soon as you finish for the first time- you turn right back to the first page.

And to buy it. Click here.

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About litbandit

El Bandito Bibliotequa...or something.
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