Anasazi (Beautiful and bewildering graphic novel told in its own glyphic language, acquired 6 Feb. 2020)

2020-02-10_164045_2

A week or so ago, Mike McCubbins offered me a review copy of Anasazi, the graphic novel that he made with Matt Bryan. He sent a link to the Anasazi’s Kickstarter page. I skimmed over the art, was impressed and immediately interested, and then read their blurb:

Anasazi is a nearly wordless 212 page, 8″ x 8.5″ full-color cloth-bound graphic novel. Its a story of war, assimilation, and cultural divisions on a colorful alien planet that combines elements of science fiction, fantasy, mythology, world history, and horror.

…16 chapters. 16 words.  There is no English dialogue or exposition in Anasazi. Instead each chapter heading contains an alien language glyph along with a non-English word or phrase meaning and its literal English translation. These glyphs then appear as dialogue throughout the story.

2020-02-10_164045

The art, overview, and the concept of a story told in glyphs intrigued me, and I trusted my intuition not to read the brief “What’s the story?” section of Anasazi until after I’d read the novel. I read it twice; once the night it showed up, and then again the next morning. The story synopsis (three short sentences) hardly spoils the narrative, but it offers enough context for anyone wholly lost to find their footing.

2020-02-10_164045_1

The joy of Anasazi is sinking into its rich, alien world, sussing out meaning from image, color, and glyphs. The novel has its own grammar. Bryan and McCubbins conjure a world reminiscent of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Martian novels, Charles Burns’ Last Look trilogy, Kipling’s Mowgli stories, as well as the fantasies of Jean Giraud.

The sixteen English words in Anasazi are all chapter names, and all are loan words, as the novel’s title suggests. Some (“M’Aidez,” “Sheol,” “Melaina Chole”) were more familiar to me than others (“Zinduka,” “Gweilo,” “Shuv”), and all take on a strange tone in the novel, as if the glyphs the characters speak are rough transliterations of something far more refined than our alien ears could comprehend.

I really enjoyed Anasazi, and I aim to have a full review soon. But I plan to read it a few more times first.

 

Burial — Eduardo Berliner

5ecb765e5c48d952a9f14a448f853554

Burial, 2009 by Eduardo Berliner (b. 1978)

Conversation — Tim Eitel

69926.width-2000

Conversation, 2018 by Tim Eitel (b. 1971)

From Narcissus to Icarus (After Déjeuner sur l’herbe) — Raqib Shaw

69815_j7in5kz.max-1800x1800-1

abcd

From Narcissus to Icarus (After Déjeuner sur l’herbe), 2019 by Raqib Shaw (b. 1974)

Buggin — Michaël Borremans

mb2017_20

Buggin, 2017 by Michaël Borremans (b. 1963)

Book Painting No. 6 — Liu Ye

Screenshot 2020-02-05 at 8.56.14 PM

Book Painting No. 6, 2015 by Liu Ye (b. 1964)

She Has Funny Cars — Tomasz Kowalski

file

She Has Funny Cars, 2018 by Tomasz Kowalski (b. 1984)

Meteorite — Robert Pruitt

robert-pruitt_meteorite_website

Meteorite, 2019 by Robert Pruitt (b. 1975)

Miss Europe — Kent Monkman

109misseuropekentmonkman2016

Miss Europe, 2016 by Kent Monkman (b. 1965)

Ennui — Walter Sickert

Ennui c.1914 by Walter Richard Sickert 1860-1942

Ennui, c. 1914 by Walter Sickert (1860–1942)

Morning after the Flood — Mary Adshead

Morning after the Flood 1928 by Mary Adshead 1904-1995

Morning after the Flood, 1928 by Mary Adshead (1904–1995)

Seminar — Eric White

610772

Seminar, 2019 by Eric White (b. 1968)

Colossus — John Jacobsmeyer

925918abc

Colossus, 2019 by John Jacobsmeyer (b. 1964)

Sallow/Fur — Anna Bjerger

bjerger6

Sallow/Fur, 2018 by Anna Bjerger (b. 1973)

Annunciation after Titian — Gerhard Richter 

21994

Annunciation after Titian, 1973 by Gerhard Richter (b. 1932)

Dante — Audun Grimstad

image-asset

Dante, 2018 by Audun Grimstad

 

The Visit — Prudence Flint

the-visit

The Visit, 2018 by Prudence Flint (b. 1962)