Sweet Tooth #18 – Review

by Jeff Lemire (writer & artist), Jose Villarrubia (colors), and Pat Brosseau (letters)

The Story: Gus and the gang hit the road to Alaska, readjusting to the outside world.

What’s Good: Jeff Lemire is never afraid of getting experimental with Sweet Tooth’s layouts, and nowhere is this more on display than this month, where the book is in landscape and, at points, narrated like a storybook, with a splash page on top and a page of prose narration below.  But that’s not what’s best about this issue.

What’s best is its emotional resonance.  Take for example the tension between the newly reunited Jepperd and Gus.  Jepperd’s obvious sense of guilt and his clumsy attempts to reconnect are absolutely heartbreaking, regardless of whether he’s done wrong.  There’s something pathetic in his actions this month, using relics in an attempt to rekindle a time long past and regain a friendship with a Gus that no longer exists.  Or is that Gus simply buried?  Either way, it’s really gut-wrenching, eye-watering stuff that is sincere in the utmost.

Gus himself functions incredibly well this month as a kind of moral compass.  His clear sense of right and wrong show a much clearer, more defined character than the impressionable kid from issue 1.  Perhaps he’s idealistic, but he’s steadfast.  Gus shows himself to be a restraining force on the adults, a figure who reminds them of their humanity.

I also really enjoy the group dynamic that the comic has taken on.  In some ways, it reminds me of the Walking Dead: it’s an ensemble in a post-apocalyptic world, with each character having his or her unique characteristics and place in the group.  A special mention also has to go to Bobby, who gets in a couple of really hilarious lines this month.  It was surprising to get that out of Lemire, as Sweet Tooth has never been the comic to go to for laughs.

There’s also a heavy emphasis on the importance of the innocence of childhood this month that was really quite touching.  Seeing all the tension and horror of the series break away, even for a moment, to allow for kids to be kids and friends to be friends was a beautiful sight to see.  Indeed, the final splash of the issue almost made my eyes water.  It was such a display of friendship and goodness and acceptance that it’s hard to put into words.

Sweet Tooth #15 – Review

by Jeff Lemire (writer & artist), Jose Villarrubia (colors), and Pat Brousseau (letters)

The Story: Jepperd and the hybrid cultists prepare for war, Gus makes good his escape, and Singh and Abbott unearth some secrets about Gus’ family.

What’s Good: This is one hell of an issue and the best issue of Sweet Tooth to come around in a while, and that’s saying a lot.  It perfectly mixes big events/reveals with build-up for future issues that, all told, leaves the series at a fever pitch with more momentum and excitement behind it than ever before.  What has often been a slower, quieter, thoughtful series is suddenly transformed, for the time being, into a rollicking and absolutely riveting thriller of a book.

There’s so much to like about this book.  First and foremost is the change in Gus.  While his childhood innocence is still there, he has emerged as a natural leader.  His relationship to his fellow hybrid escapees is sincere and genuine, but he’s also clearly the one they look to.  Gus almost ends up like a weird, dark kind of Peter Pan, leading a band of isolated children through a strange world filled with murderous adult figures.  It’s up to Gus to call the shots, and, more important, instill hope and comfort to his group and the results are a wonderful read.

The big events, however, relate to what Singh and Abbott dig up at Gus’ old home.  It hints at very interesting things to come for the series but, more than that, it lends the book an almost supernatural, or at least speculative, tone.  During these scenes, and the book’s amazingly written montage conclusion, Singh narrates by reading from Gus’ father’s “bible.”  This bizarre book actually reads like a legitimate holy book, written specifically for Sweet Tooth’s world.  It’s filled with the appropriate metaphors and language, but it carries a very eerie prophetic power.  It leads one to wonder whether there were some powers at work in Gus’ father’s work.  Even if not, this narration, and this bible as a whole, lends the book a very, very ominous and downright chilling tone.  More than that, it makes this issue and the events it builds feel important.  The last few pages will have you starving for the next issue, which is not generally something Lemire has focused on in Sweet Tooth.

Sweet Tooth #12 – Review

by Jeff Lemire (writer & artist), Jose Villarrubia (colors), and Pat Brosseau (letters)

The Story: Singh recounts the outbreak of the plague while Gus finds glimmers of humanity in the camp.

What’s Good: This is one of the issues that shows not only Lemire’s creativity, but his bravery in his willingness to experiment with the storytelling and format of Sweet Tooth.  The result is a nice little break between story arcs that’s a solid outing in and of itself.

The strongpoint of the issue, and really its structural foundation, is how it essentially tells two stories simultaneously, one purely through images and the other mostly through narration (with sparser images along the bottom of the page).  Putting the two stories together like this makes them into brilliant parallels, foils really, for one another.  Singh depressingly recounts the barbarism and destruction of the plague’s outbreak and the early days, while Gus suffers upon his arrival at the camp, but manages to find little bits of hope, fellowship, and humanity as well.   Despite this inherent juxtaposition, both stories also feature both their very different characters attempting to find light and goodness in a pitch dark situation.

This paralleling also makes Lemire’s differing delivery of these two stories appropriate, as it again highlights Lemire’s intention of balancing innocence with experience, in this case the child Gus and the adult Singh.  Not only does the subject matter of their stories bounce off of one another in this light, but it seems right that Gus, the child, would have his story relayed solely through pictures while the world-weary adult, Singh, would use mostly words.  There’s a kind of purity in having a story told solely through artwork, while there’s a greater feel of artifice (appropriate for the adult scientist) to narration, particularly when that narration is a transcription of Singh’s own diary recordings.

Sweet Tooth #10 – Review

by Jeff Lemire (writer & artist), Jose Villarrubia (colors), and Pat Brosseau (letters)

The Story: Singh uses hypnosis to lead Gus through his past on a search for answers.

What’s Good: After falling just the tiniest bit short of his usual gold standard last month, Lemire kicks us in the teeth with one of his best issues of Sweet Tooth yet.

Lemire removes Jepperd this month, allowing for a more focused issue that develops the relationship between Singh and Gus.  What makes this so superb, and so intriguing, is that Lemire returns to the juxtaposition between science and the humanities.  In my usage of the word “humanities,” I mean that which escapes the dull rationalism of scientific figures:  religion, emotion, and childhood innocence in the case of Sweet Tooth.

The conflict between these two sides becomes a major, yet subtle, theme as Singh struggles to probe through Gus’ memories.  He repeatedly, almost desperately, asks Gus whether there are any scientific instruments, numbers, or notations in the cabin of his youth, and each time he is befuddled when told that this is not the case.  The cabin is a science-free zone dominated by bizarre mix of zealous religion and childhood experience and, as such, both Gus and his father reject science as the evil justifications and misguided machinations of sinful men.  The result is a sense of Singh’s inability to understand Gus’ world.  There must be a scientific explanation for Gus’ existence, but there is simply no evidence to support this no matter how much Singh desires it.  Eventually, Singh even falls to cynicism; for lack of empirical evidence, he believes Gus’ mother to have never existed.  Of course, at issue’s end, he is proven dead wrong.

Sweet Tooth #9 – Review

by Jeff Lemire (writer & artist), Jose Villarrubia (colors), and Pat Brosseau (letters)

The Story: The curtain is pulled back a little more on Jepperd’s past, while Singh tries to gain Gus’ trust.

What’s Good: Despite its focus on a small number of characters, it’s become clear that Sweet Tooth is quite often about betrayal.  Lemire once again does a great job of depicting this recurring theme.  A betrayal in Jepperd’s past with his wife Louise is oddly related to his betrayal of Gus, and thus trauma links with, and creates, trauma.  When Louise and Jepperd are betrayed this month, it’s bitterly fitting that the worst moment of Jepperd’s life occurs at exactly the same spot as his betrayal of Gus.  With Jepperd’s flashbacks coming to their climax, the past comes just a little closer to the present in very effective fashion.

With its running theme of betrayal, it’s only natural that this month would also focus quite a bit on trust.  It’s elegant writing on Lemire’s part that both Gus and Jepperd’s portions of the issue treat this subject.  Singh attempts to gain Gus’ trust, while in the past, Abbott tries to gain Jepperd and Louise’s.   Of course, typical of Lemire’s deftness and his dark, post-apocalyptic world, both situations pull in opposite directions:  Gus struggles to trust what seems to be an honest man, while Louise and Jepperd willingly place their trust in the hands of bad men.  It’s very effective plotting for Lemire, particularly with all the characters walking difficult routes.