Getting the Expected from Vertigo's "The Unexpected"

I love comics anthologies. I've bought a fair number of them over the years: everything from fairly obscure regional comics collective efforts to classic, long running mainstays like Dark Horse Presents to the enormous, dazzling modern tomes like Flight and Popgun. I love them because of the often bewildering variety of styles of display. I love them because they are treasure troves of newly discovered talent. I love them because you can sample them like an exotic box of sweets, never knowing quite what you'll find, but never having to linger long to find out.

DC's Vertigo imprint has published a fair number of anthologies in the past, usually revolving around broad yet specific topics like horror or crime. There's an unofficial adage in comics publishing...anthologies don't sell...which probably goes some way toward explaining why Vertigo doesn't publish as many of them as they used to. In a recent trip to a comic shop, however, a brand new one-shot anthology, apparently published "just because", caught my eye.

Since you're looking at the cover of The Unexpected right now, you can probably see why. Rafael Grampa (with an accent on the second "a"; not sure how to add that) drew the cover. His art immediately calls Geof Darrow's hyper-detailed linework to mind, but closer inspection reveals that Grampa is a true original.

That cannot be said for much of the content between the covers. That's mostly okay; a lot of these Vertigo anthologies are like modern day versions of the old Warren and EC comics. Twist in the tail stuff. Nothing wrong with that. Done well, I enjoy those stories as much as the next guy. And most of the stuff in here is pretty well done. There are a few stories that transcend the formula and offer work as original and daring as Grampa's cover, and those are the ones I'd like to highlight here.

My favorite story by far is "The Land", written by Joshua Dysart (Unknown Soldier, Greendale) and drawn by Farel Dalrymple (Popgun War, Omega the Unknown). It's mysterious, lyrical. We aren't quite sure where the real world stops and a world of myth and wonder begins. Despite its more fanciful elements it also manages to to say something about power and race and the ephemeral nature of all humankind's conflicts. It's beautifully drawn, beautifully written. It's predictable because it's about pettiness and hatred and fear, something we know all too well as fellow humans, but told in a way that feels surprising and new. It's virtually worth the price of admission by itself.

"Dogs", by G. Willow Wilson (Cairo, Air) and Robbi Rodriguez (Maintenance) is a somewhat less successful morality tale, partly because I never quite bought Rodriguez' rubbery depictions of the suddenly erect dogs of the title. It's kind of heavy-handed too, but for all that, it was well told and kinda eerie.

"Americana", by Brian Wood (DMZ, Northlanders) and Emily Carroll, is very simple in structure, not delving too deeply into its world or characters as the narrative sweeps across 100 years of speculative American history, and it implies that a peaceful future might entail a...lack of men, never one of my favorite fantasies. It has the feeling of having far more to it than what is on the page, though, a sweeping, epic feel, an impressive rhythm and heartbeat to it. I also absolutely loved the colors, stark whites and blues and luminous oranges, that made the pages feel like they should almost be cold or warm to the touch, respectively.

"A Most Delicate Monster" felt like it was going to be one of my absolute favorites in the book until the very last page. It's still a lot of fun, but it felt like Jeffrey Rotter didn't really know where he wanted to ultimately go with his idea of a Neanderthal introduced into the modern world. Lelio Bonaccorso's art is loose and full of personality.

Almost all of the stories have something to recommend them. "The Great Karlini" has the great Dave Gibbon's impeccable storytelling, even if the story itself is the most overtly stereotypical of the bunch. "Family First", by Mat Johnson and David Lapham (drawing instead of writing for once) is also pretty standard, and only shocking if you've never read such a story before, but very professionally done. "Voodoo Child: Blink", which will be a Vertigo ongoing starting sometime next year by Selwyn Hinds and Denys Cowan, was just enough to whet my appetite. They kinda had me at New Orleans, Voodoo and werewolves, honestly. Probably my least favorite story, "Alone", still had some neat visual storytelling tricks by Rahsan Ekedal.

All in all, for over 64 pages of art and story, with nary an ad to be found, this was worth the $7.99. Like most anthologies it's hit or miss, but like any good ones it hit most of the time, and some of the stuff that didn't work for me might work better for other readers. At the very least you can gaze at that cover when the mood strikes you.