10 December 2011

Review: Nelson

Cover art by Rob Davis
Nelson – Paul Grist, Rob Davis, Woodrow Phoenix, Ellen Lindner, Jamie Smart, Gary Northfield, Sarah McIntyre, Suzy Varty, Sean Longcroft, Warwick Johnson-Cadwell, Luke Pearson, Paul Harrison-Davies, Katie Green, Paul Peart-Smith, Glyn Dillon, I.N.J. Culbard, John Allison, Philip Bond, D’Israeli, Simone Lia, Darryl Cunningham, Jonathan Edwards, Ade Salmon, Kate Charlesworth, Warren Pleece, Kristyna Baczynski, Harvey James, Rian Hughes, Sean Phillips & Pete Doree, Kate Brown, Simon Gane, Jon McNaught, Adam Cadwell, Faz Choudhury, JAKe, Jeremy Day, Dan McDaid, Roger Langridge, Will Morris, Dave Shelton, Carol Swain, Hunt Emerson, Duncan Fegredo, Philippa Rice, Josceline Fenton, Garen Ewing, Tom Humberstone , Dan Berry, Alice Duke, Posy Simmonds, Laura Howell, Andi Watson, and Dave Taylor (w/a)
Blank Slate Books, £18.99, ISBN: 9781906653231


Sarah McIntyre
Part anthology, part bildungsroman, part tag-team-comics-challenge: Nelson is a truly unique book.  What began as an inspired idea by cartoonist Rob Davis, as an attempt to bring together his favourite cartoonists, now arrives as a 250-page graphic novel featuring 53 other creators — and “creators” they are, as they help shape a fully-formed life in these pages — representing the modern face of English cartooning. 

Nelson is the story of Nel Baker, from her birth in 1968 to the present day, told in (roughly) yearly installments.  Each vignette was written and drawn by a different artist, detailing one day in Nel’s life, and created sequentially so that every installment would build upon the story that had gone before.  The results are remarkably cohesive and the shifting styles from year-to-year actually help to evoke the ever-changing nature of Nel’s life, her moods, her surroundings and the zeitgeist of each era.

Kate Charlesworth
For, as much as Nelson is the story of a person, it is also the story of a nation.  Every episode manages to perfectly evoke the culture and history of England at the time — and with all its eccentricities, this is a quintessentially English book, and it would be wrong to bemoan the lack of any Scottish, Irish and Welsh cartoonists in its pages… even if they did manage to sneak a few ex-pats into the mix.  The culture on display is a typically working-class one because, like so much of the country’s art, British comics have always gravitated towards kitchen sink realism.  As such, Nel can be seen as living symbol of the country around her — a modern Lady Britannia, a parallel often underscored by her adoption of the military regalia of Admiral Nelson, her namesake and that of her brother.

Rian Hughes
Indeed, one of the most formative of Nel’s experiences is the death of her twin brother, Sonny, at an early age.  Without him, Nel feels incomplete, “half a person,” and grows up haunted by his ghost, aching for what she has lost.  Against a background of the miners’ strike, burgeoning gay rights and politicised art in the ’80s, it’s easy to read Nel’s early life as an exploration of Thatcher’s politics, and her brother as a representation of the country the British so desperately wanted.  For all its grimness, the ’80s produced some wonderful, reactionary art (some have argued that Thatcher was the best thing to happen to music) and, as she grows up we see Nel produce this type of art herself and inch towards becoming a cartoonist herself.

Frequently the historical details are peppered around the background in the form of artifacts — newspapers, badges, snatches of conversations.  In much the same way is Nel’s life built with the accumulation of detritus in her surroundings — the Nelson statue, the Arabaian Nights book, Beano fan-club badges, old Misty comics — and part of the beauty of the exquisite corpse nature of the book is seeing subsequent cartoonists picking up some of these small details and developing them into fully fledged stories.  What’s even more exciting is seeing the friendly rivalry between the creators play out across the pages, with several episodes ending in challenging complications.  Often, these lead to some of the book’s most intriguing turns, like the introduction of home-school Tabitha who is initially sheltered from the outside world, but over the course of Nelson grows as a counterpoint to the central character — Hopey to Nel’s Maggie.
Josceline Fenton
That comparison to Love and Rockets is probably quite apt, as this is one of the few other comics where, by the end, we feel like we have been there with the characters throughout their whole lives, and it is astonishing just how cohesive the entire volume feels.  Part of that may come down to a shared sensibility and experience of the world between the various creators, but also due to their high levels of talent.  Even a cursory glance at the talents featured here will give some sense of the pedigree at work, from newcomers like Harvey James and (recent Graphic Eye interviewee) Josceline Fenton, through ubiquitous names of English cartooning — Philip Bond, D’Israeli, Hunt Emerson — to the types of artists who are recognized outside the world of comics like Rian Hughes and Posy Simmonds. Although it might come as a disappointment to discover that Simmonds contributes a mere one panel to Nelson, the power of that single image and its single word resonates much more powerfully than many of the other, longer strips.

Carol Swain
In fact, very few of the contributors disappoint and it’s to the credit of editors Rob Davis and Woodrow Phoenix that the end result is as strong as it is.  Not only does it tell a very powerful narrative — one that is a beautiful example of literary graphic storytelling, no less — but also showcases the brightest stars of English cartooning, bringing them together in a way that demonstrates the community that has evolved between them.  It may take a village to raise a child, but it takes an entire country to tell her life-story.

-- Gavin Lees

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