(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com]. I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted here illegally.)
Like any self-respecting obsessive book nerd, at any given moment I'm actually in the process of reading three or four books simultaneously; there is the deeper and more complex novel, for example, that I will read only at a cafe during the day, a less complex one I read in more distracting environments like the bus, some giant nonfiction book that I will read only a page or two at a time in the bathroom, and then of course whatever book I'm reading in bed those days, which by definition tends to usually be the lightest and least consequential of them all, since I'm always falling asleep while reading it. And thus have I found myself reading more and more graphic novels these days, especially since the Chicago Public Library system started making them more of an acquisitional priority, although admittedly I don't write reviews for most of them, simply because most aren't weighty enough to justify a full analytical write-up.
Ah, but I did want to mention a delightful title I recently made my way through, comics-industry veteran Linda Medley's postmodern fairytale Castle Waiting, a self-published personal project of hers throughout the '90s that once won her the prestigious Xeric Grant. See, turns out that Medley actually studied folklore as well as illustration when in college, and so has spent a lot of time in her life asking weird questions of these old tales that other people usually don't; for example, what happened to Sleeping Beauty's kingdom once she got whisked away by Prince Charming? Turns out that this mammoth (500-page) book is what happened; the "Castle Waiting" mentioned in the title is no less than Sleeping Beauty's old castle fallen into disrepair, a semi-abandoned and semi-mythical place on the edge of the known world where all of folklore's most lovable losers have gathered, making a funky alternative life for themselves there and sharing their backstories Canterbury-Tales style.
And in fact, it's important to understand that Medley means for this entire situation to be a highly metaphorical one, reflecting her time when younger as part of the radical feminist circles of the San Francisco Bay area; these stories are not just cute and smart twists on traditional fairytales, but also a celebration of uniqueness, of alternative families, of women who don't fit the usual stereotypical feminine norms of mainstream society. (In fact, the entire last half of this book is dedicated to a story about a group of nuns who all have beards, and how they have built themselves a fortress to protect them from the abusive men they all ran away from; and if that's not a grand metaphor for a lot of what you see within radical-feminist circles in the Bay area, I don't know what is.) Sadly, financial burdens originally shut this self-published title down in 2001; happily, our friends at Fantagraphics have picked it up again as a regular series, and decided to put out this compendium of the self-published issues first to get everyone up to steam. It's a bit pricey, also a bit preachy at times; in general, though, it gets a solid recommendation from me, and especially to all you smart female genre fans who have always wanted to read a funny, warm fantasy tale written to exactly suit your particular sensibilities.
Out of 10: 8.6