Berlin is written and drawn by the extremely talented comics creator Jason Lutes, who also previously brought us Jar of Fools. It is one of the true classics of modern comics, on a par with the "greats" of the medium, such as Art Spiegelman's Maus. So far, there have been nineteen issues out of a projected twenty-four, and two trade paperback collections, taking us up to Issue 12, the half-way point of the story.

 

Berlin: City of Stones is the first of the two trade paperbacks, published by Drawn & Quarterly, and collects the first six issues of the series. The level of attention to realistic detail in this story is remarkable. For history buffs (and the historical accuracy in this series is also spot on), Berlin is set in Germany during the final years of the Weimar Republic (end of the 1920s - start of the 1930s), as things start to go down the tubes, and the various factions (Jews, communists, nationalists, socialists, republicans, First World War veterans, and others) are battling it out in a vicious near-civil war to see who comes out as top dog in this cut-throat grab for power.

 

The narrative details the tragic inability of the German government and society in the chaotic inter-war period to adjust to and sustain their fragile fledgling democracy in the face of determined extremists. Starting in September 1928, the story follows the hopes and struggles of a small group of people, normal everyday folk of various ethnic groups, all trying to live their lives in a turbulent Germany, as the future becomes ever darker and grimmer against a background over which looms the ever-growing menace of Nazism.

 

Lutes always concentrates on the people first, the dreams, hopes, emotions and personal suffering of the average man and woman, the groups and individuals comprising the citizens of the city of Berlin, as their plight grows ever worse. The reader, aware of the dark chapter of history that is about to unfold, cannot help but feel sympathy for the various characters trapped in this ever-worsening situation, amidst all the conflicts, demonstrations, and the rapid, spiralling descent into lawlessness and chaos, as democracy is overthrown and ruthless dictatorship takes over.

 

I've often heard many "enlightened" types criticize the German population, and their inability to see where things were heading. How could they ever let animals like the Nazis come to power and get away with the atrocities that they committed? Were they stupid? Did they not see how things would turn out? It's all too easy for anyone to look back from our cosy vantage point of more than eighty-five years after the events, and ask accusing questions like this. But we weren't there. We didn't live through those dark days. And everyone's a genius in hindsight, right?

 

Berlin: City of Stones is a remarkable piece of work, a perfect example of comics at their best, as both a work of art and "literature". If you want to impress someone who is not a fan of comics (or is positively derogatory about them), you don't hand them Spider-Man, X-Men, Batman or Superman. These people will laugh in your face, as the guys and gals in tights are a particular focus of their ridicule. Instead, you give these people something like Maus or Berlin, or A Jew in Communist Prague, and watch the amazed expressions grow on their faces. This is serious stuff, the comics equivalent of real literature/art, the "real deal".

 

What we don't have here is your typical, silly, mindless superhero crap published by Marvel or DC. If you don't like to tax your mind too much, and that kind of thing is your limit with comics, then Berlin is most likely not for you. This type of graphic storytelling is aimed at readers who prefer comics of a more realistic, intelligent, and serious nature, and who aren't fans of the more juvenile examples of the medium. People who like their reading material to be something a bit more substantial than endless moronic superhero punchfests.

 

And if you're like me, and read all kinds of comics, and like to read something different from mainstream superhero stuff every now and again, Berlin is a perfect change of tone. As a huge history fan, I can't recommend it highly enough. It's easily one of my favourite comic books, ever.

This and its predecessor have provided a wealth of information about the events leading up to the end of the Weimar Republic and the rise of the Third Reich. I did not realize how much the communists/socialists played into the hands of the fascists. There was a class war going on during the end of the 1920's that was not unlike what we are seeing today. That, combined with an ineffective government and a failing economy, can open the doors to horrors that I hope I only ever read about. So, the subject matter I find fascinating, the execution of it in this graphic novel, not so much. Again, the artwork is neither specific enough or consistent enough to follow easily. And in this volume, I think Lutes dwells a little too much on the underbelly of society, but it did successfully set the scene for a third installment, ending with the elections of 1930, where 83% of the electorate came out to vote in protest of the failing government, which resulted in 107 Parliament seats going to the National Socialists, also known as the Nazis.

Question to anyone who has read this: Is the angry man making a speech on pages 156-158 Hitler without the mustache?

I had a difficult time differentiating characters in this graphic novel. I would often have to page back and compare pictures of people to determine who I was reading about. This seriously impeded on my enjoyment of the story, which was otherwise fascinating and compelling. I sought out this book as research into my new role in Cabaret, and I definitely learned a lot about the turbulent post-WWI years of the Weimar Republic, which led to the rise of National Socialism, otherwise known as the Nazi Party.

I suppose that when I read a book wherein the structure of the story itself reflects the tone, I should be appreciative. In this case, I'm just annoyed. The artwork in Houdini: The Handcuff King is sparse, not very structured, and, honestly, a bit trite. The story is much of the same. It's a little slice of biography about Houdini's chained and handcuffed jump at Harvard Bridge. One of Houdini's minor feats, though he plied it as a marketing opportunity, which, as the book relates, he was always seeking. Unfortunately, I felt that this was only a minor graphic novel that acts as a (rather expensive) advertisement for The Center for Cartoon Studies, which holds the copyright.

I wanted to like this book more than I did. The foreshortened story was stilted, even jarring sometimes in its incompleteness. This shoddy storytelling wasn't, unfortunately, made up for by stunning artwork. Outside of the panel of Houdini jumping from Philadelphia's Market Street bridge, the artwork was pedestrian and uninspiring.

This is a book that could have breathed and been full of life. Instead, I felt much like Houdini must have while he was sinking into the cold water, struggling to be free of the claustrophobia of the story in which he found himself. He escaped. I didn't.

Quick read, not much to it. This seems more like a picture book than a graphic novel to me--I can see a parent reading it with their young kid (say ages 7-9) more easily than I can see a middle schooler picking it up and reading it on their own. I wanted Bess, Houdini's wife, to be more of a person than she was--her sole personality trait in this book is "devoted."