Over the last ten years a new sub-genre seems to have appeared in comics. Goth comics, and more specifically Goth graphic novels, have managed to make a permanent place for themselves on the shelves of both comic shops and comics readers. They range from the light-hearted and humourous to the ponderous and self-obsessed, and from the good to the, well, awful.

Over the last ten years a new sub-genre seems to have appeared in comics. Goth comics, and more specifically Goth graphic novels, have managed to make a permanent place for themselves on the shelves of both comic shops and comics readers. They range from the light-hearted and humourous to the ponderous and self-obsessed, and from the good to the, well, awful.

For the purposes of this article, I’m taking ‘Goth graphic novels’ as a reasonably loose description, but I generally mean books primarily directed at, and appealing to, Goths, those black-clad, eyeliner-wearing, death-obsessed denizens of the night familiar to us all, although hopefully to be enjoyed by all of us (and I’m a 45-year-old, eyeliner-free Irishman, so that includes me…) They share little else in common except for the fact that, and make of this what you will, all of them are published in black and white.

So, I’m going to start with a series that isn’t really Goth at all, but more properly magical fantasy. Ted Naifeh’s Courtney Crumrin books, starting with Courtney Crumrin and the Night Things (Oni Press) in 2002, star the eponymous Courtney, who has moved to Hillsborough along with her parents, to live with her mysterious great-uncle Aloysius. Before too long has passed, Courtney finds herself embroiled in magic, and the mysterious Night Things that live in the woods nearby. She eventually ends up in a strange Goblin Market underground, where she is rescued by her old uncle, who turns out to be a warlock of great power. Naifeh’s storytelling is strong, and his art reminds me, especially when he’s drawing his strange little creatures, of people like Arthur Rackham and Hieronymus Bosch. Courtney’s adventures continue in Courtney Crumrin and the Coven of Mystics (Oni Press 2003) and Courtney Crumrin in the Twilight Kingdom (Oni Press 2004), all of them good. Naifeh has also just launched a series of one-shots focusing on some of the other characters in the stories, starting with Courtney Crumrin Tales: A Portrait of the Warlock as a Young Man (Oni Press 2005), which features Courtney’s great uncle, Aloysius Crumrin. I cannot recommend this series highly enough, truly. It has been optioned for a movie, too, so get in ahead of the crowd!

Another great personal favourite is Richard Moore’s Boneyard, now up to four volumes from NBM, between 2002 and now. Michael Paris (“Call me Paris”) goes to the small town of Raven’s Hollow, where his late grandfather has left him some property. When he gets there he find that, firstly, the town has a great big cloud permanently hanging over it, and secondly, that the property he has inherited is a graveyard, the Boneyard of the title. Not only that, but the graveyard is inhabited by a collection of monsters and creatures. Various shenanigans ensue, with the townspeople trying to demolish the graveyard, only to fail when the mayor is revealed to be the devil. In the meantime, Paris gets to know his tenants. There’s Sid, a skeleton; Ralph, a werewolf; Edgar, a talking raven; Brutus, a sort of Frankenstein’s monster-type creature; Nessie, the voluptuous femme fatale swamp girl; and lots more. And then there’s Abbey, the vampiress. Right from the beginning, there’s a lot of unspoken sexual tension between Paris and Abbey, which continues all the way through the four volumes to date, regularly hindered by Nessie’s outrageous flirting with Paris. Boneyard is charming and sweet, as well as funny and occasionally serious. Again, I can’t recommend it highly enough. The art is excellent, and Moore obviously has a lot of affection for his characters. It’s one of those books I buy the moment I see it, and always enjoy. Another must-have item for any well-read comics fan. And while you’re at it, you might want to look out for Moore’s Far West (NBM 2001), a tale of an Elfin girl and a talking bear in the old Wild West.

Next up, we’ve got Roman Dirge’s Lenore, currently in two volumes: Lenore: Noogies (SLG 1999), and Lenore: Wedgies (SLG 2000). Lenore is this dead girl who likes to dress up in a bunny costume and kill field mice with a mallet, or to give tea parties for her friends, and who is occasionally the object of the unrequited affections of Mr Gosh, who gets killed by her repeatedly as a result. She likes kitties, but, in common with any other animals that she comes near, manages to kill them, so they’re only known by numbers. Everybody loves Lenore, and I’m certainly no exception. The thing is, sometimes it’s hard to put a finger on why, exactly. The artwork is odd and stylised, and the writing is sometimes just plain silly. Dirge occasionally does illustrated poems, which are simply awful, at least as poetry. However, he also does little inserts from his own life, which regularly have had me laughing hysterically. Yet again, for the third time running, you really need to have these. They stand up to re-reading well, and are some of the loveliest, funniest, and most heart-warming graphic novels out there. Roman Dirge has recently returned to the character, and a third volume is not far away, with the grace of whatever dark gods you choose to favour.

In the wake of the success of Lenore, it was perhaps inevitable that we would get more comics featuring dead girls, and Butch Adams’ Lily – When I Was Dead (Neko Press 2002) is one of these. Lily Raine goes trick or treating with her brother, dressed as the Mistress of the Night (black and white striped tights, hooded cloak, white face makeup with black eyes). She gets killed, and ends up stuck in her Halloween costume. She finds herself on the other side, where humans are things of bedtime stories and myth. Various adventures ensue, mostly in the company of Otis the zombie corpse and Flaegan, a sort of talking lion-dog creature. Good fun stuff, and I’ve been hoping for another volume for a while now.

Another book that came along in the wake of Lenore is Aaron A’s Serenity Rose: Working Through the Negativity (SLG 2005). Serenity Rose, or Sera to her friends, is a little witch girl, and the book is her diary over five days. The artwork is sometimes very fragmented, and the fact that the book is quite dialogue-heavy is not helped by the fact that this volume is reprinted at about half the size of the original comics pages (there’s even a side note on one of the pages that says, “Serenity Rose Comics: The ultimate experience in gruelling word balloons!”) My wife probably likes this more than I do, but having said all that, Sera is a charming character, and has a good strong supporting cast, and is by no means without merit.

Serena Valentino’s GloomCookie, co-created with Ted Naifeh before he went on to create Courtney Crumrin, has three different artists over three volumes. Naifeh does the art chores in Volume 1, John Gebbia in Volume 2, and Breehn John Burns in Volume 3, with all three volumes being published by SLG between 2001 and 2004. This is largely concerned with the adventures of actual Goths, starting with Lex and Max, who both love the other, but are afraid to admit to it. However, before we know it, we’re into stories of monsters in the closet who really exist, the Carnival Macabre, the evil Queen Isabella, a really bad Goth poet called Vermilion, and a myriad of other story threads that weave in and out through the books. There’s also occasional sojourns into fairy tales that, although taking place long ago, have relevance to what’s going on now. I’ve got the first two volumes, and some day real soon now I’m going to go buy the third one. Despite the twisting and turning of the plot, there a genuine sense of pacing in this, and the characters are very likable, especially the female lead Lex, who is not above making pithy comments about gothiness.

The oldest Goth comic must be Jhonen Vasquez’s Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, collected in JTHM: Director’s Cut (1997), along with a companion volume, SQUEE’S Wonderful Big Giant Book of Unspeakable Horrors (1998), collecting the adventures of Johnny’s next-door neighbour, a little boy called Squee, both of which are published by Slave Labour Graphics, who, as SLG Publications, have very nearly cornered the market in Goth comics. In JTHM: Director’s Cut Johnny spends his time exacting dreadful vengeance on anyone who he feels has slighted him, as well as railing against all of humanity, so it seems, and especially bemoaning the lack of human contact he feels. JTHM has been enormously influential, and is cited as an influence by a lot of comics’ writers. However, I have to admit it leaves me entirely unimpressed. I imagine that this is because, given that I’m a middle-aged man, I’m not the target market for this, which really reads like a teenage angst-fest. None the less, I truly believe that good writing, in comics as well as anywhere else, should have something for whoever reads it, and this is obviously a flaw in Vasquez’s work. Having said that, this undoubtedly has enormous appeal for those who like it, and I imagine that they’re not likely to be interested in my opinion.

Another complete whinge-fest is to be found in Sean Dietrich’s Industriacide (Rorschach Entertainment 2004), or at least in the first 26 pages which I read before giving up in despair. From what I could gather that far in, it involved disaffected youth, a crucified teddy bear, factories, and various sharp objects and hypodermic needles, all accompanied by the most appallingly self-obsessed whining it’s ever been my misfortune to read. Even though I may not have liked JTHM, I’ll allow it has some merits. This, however, is simply to be avoided at all costs, a fact that is only made worse by the fact that Dietrich is obviously an interesting and accomplished artist.

As to the future (or at least the future as I write this), Welcome to the Inbetween - The Story of Little Apple Dolls (IDW, hardback, 56 pages, October 2005) by Ufuoma Urie looks interesting, being the back-story of the popular range of dolls I keep seeing in my local FPI recently. I’m also looking forward to further volumes of pretty much everything listed above.

And there you have it. 16 volumes of mostly frothy, Gothy, graphic novel goodness, with only one real baddie. More Goth books, please.