A talented young actress becomes fatally ensnared in London's mysterious and glittery drug culture of the early 20th century.
Trina Robbins' brilliant graphic novel adaptation of Sax Rohmer's sensational 1919 novel, Dope , is consdered by many (including Trina herself) to be her best work ever as an illustrator. Inspired by true events, Dope was both the first novel to speak openly about the world's international drug trade and the first story to center around the death of a celebrity by drug overdose. The graphic novel adaptation was first serialized in Eclipse Magazine beginning in 1981, and is collected here for the first time.
Trina Robbins is an American comics artist and writer. She was an early and influential participant in the underground comix movement, and one of the few female artists in underground comix when she started. Her first comics were printed in the East Village Other. She later joined the staff of a feminist underground newspaper It Ain't Me, Babe, with whom she produced the first all-woman comic book titled It Ain't Me Babe. She became increasingly involved in creating outlets for and promoting female comics artists, through projects such as the comics anthology Wimmen's Comix. She was also the penciller on Wonder Woman for a time in the '80s.
Trina has worked on an adaptation of Sax Rohmer's Dope for Eclipse Comics and GoGirl with artist Anne Timmons for Image Comics.
Trina designed Vampirella's costume for Forrest Ackerman and Jim Warren.
In addition to her comics work, Robbins is an author of non-fiction books, including several with an emphasis on the history of women in cartooning.
She is the first of the three "Ladies of the Canyon" in Joni Mitchell's classic song from the album of the same name.
Trina Robbins won a Special Achievement Award from the San Diego Comic Con in 1989 for her work on Strip AIDS U.S.A., a benefit book that she co-edited with Bill Sienkiewicz and Robert Triptow.
Dope is a 1919 novel by the British author best known for creating the Fu Manchu “Oriental” mysteries, Sax Rohmer. Dope is set in the Limehouse area of London. It is based on the story of Billie Carleton, a young English actress whose scandalous lifestyle ended with her death from a drug overdose in 1918. Rohmer’s novel deals more with cannabis than opium, but Trina Robbins adapts and illustrates and streamlines the turgid story and language in this deluxe reprint of her original graphic publication, keeping the racist, sexist, sensational content, featuring girls in diaphanous nightgowns hooked on (enslaved by!) cocaine, veronal and opium. Rohmer, for all of his pulpy writing, was one of the first writers to take on drug addiction in the early twentieth century.
Spike Trotman does a short introduction about why it is so fun sometimes to read “trash.” Coleen Doran writes a short afterword. Jon Cooke writes a great essay that puts the story in historical context, ”Sax, Drugs, and the Yellow Peril.” All writers including Robbins go out of their way to discuss the racism in the text and in the period, noting all the outrageous stereotypes.
What’s not to like? It’s a classic murder mystery featuring dope fiends, opium dens and sinister “Chinamen.” So bad it’s good.
This is a good adaptation of Sax Rohmer's novel, which appeared in 1919. Robbins' graphic version was serialized in Eclipse, a black and white underground publication, from 1981-'83, and I don't believe it was printed in book form until this 2017 version. It's a faithful, warts and all adaptation, with racist and sexist attitudes galore. Her art is starker than her other work with which I'm familiar, and I suspect she was accurately employing the style of the time. It's an odd choice for Robbins, who was known and championed as a feminist and progressive individual on social issues, and I was impressed by the closing line of her introduction: "Or maybe we can enjoy a rip-roaring yarn while, at the same time, being aware of some of the more bizarre attitudes white folks had in the Bad Old Days, and being glad that we're smarter than that today." There are several essays included that put the story in historical perspective and social context, and the book is better for them. It's a fast read, but a thoughtful one.
Story: **** It's a sensational story that's full of intrigue and colorful characters that are well formed. I believe that it was adapted to the utmost satisfaction one could manage in fifty-four 9" x 11" pages. It's obvious that more space would have made it better but this ran as a serial in some publication that only afforded it limited space. You get a great feel for the time and setting with firmly planted action abounding. The problem is that it's told by the wrong narrator who could not be omniscient which strains the delivery of plot.
The extras are crucial as well because there is so much to tell about the era, the notorious "Limehouse" district of London, the substances that are abused and the interesting author that cannot be covered in this format. They are by no means necessary but I was compelled to read them from the interest that the story cultivated.
Art: *** This is not the highly skilled Trina Robbins that I remember expertly popping off the page from at least five other books. It's so much more lax/imprecise with scant backgrounds and zero gray tones. It's not bad at all but I strongly feel that she rushed it to deadlines that she wasn't able to meet to her abilities. The amount of blank space per page is staggering.
A beautiful reprint edition of Trina Robbins serial adaptation of Rohmer's cheesy "classic" -- far more readable than the original. The quality production really shows off her line work better than the 1980s publications. The story itself creaks, but Robbins makes the most of it and her take not only is faithful to the original but reflects subtly and wryly on its creakiness -- not an easy thing to do! The back pages contain a considerable amount of background and supporting material, informative but a tad defensive about the racist and sexist implications of the source material. Yes, it's offensive but passing off those attitudes as something quaint understates the ongoing reality of the very same attitudes (though usually better disguised) in our own "enlightened" era.
I was introduced to Eclipse Comics by cat yronwode in early 1982 while interviewing her for a history of DC Comics for my senior year (high school) English research paper. Among the characters and features cat introduced me to were Ms. Tree, the Foozle, Will Eisner's The Spirit, Ragamuffins, and the adaptation of Sax Rohmer's DOPE by Trina Robbins.
I remember liking the story then, but nearly 40 years later it really was like reading it for the first time. The art is deceptive -- seemingly simple and charming yet expressive as it conveys so perfectly the story of Rita Dresden, a stage actress with an addiction to opium.
The story seems tame a century after Rohmer's novel was first published and nearly 40 years after Ms. Robbins adapted the story. It is definitely not politically correct. But it is an excellent work of craftsmanship deserving of the collection it received from It's Alive!/IDW.
Look, this is a racist and sexist piece of high yellow writing. It is salacious and feeds into the Yellow Peril. Read at your own peril. The illustrator makes the point on why it is important to have these books around. One of the most salient to today's situation is the misguided attempt at ascribing menace in terms of drugs and drug trafficking to the Chinese as a way to demonize them. We can hear echoes of that in the fentanyl crisis.
It is more complicated than the Chinese want to take down America. (or Britain in terms of the Opium Wars). The Opium Wars were an older War on Drugs. Didn't work then. So little we learn from history. However, the archetypes still exist.
It is a read that would make the modern reader roll their eyes and still enjoy. Don't be fooled though, we still have racist and sexist attitudes that are hidden by narratives that we tell. Maybe the next menace is hiding in bathrooms, or only hanging around safe injection sites.
A very nicely adapted graphic novel from Rohmer's early 20th Century look at the world of opium addiction amongst London's rich and famous. Rohmer's story is highly racist and misogynistic, so it was an interesting choice to adapt for feminist comix pioneer Trina Robbins, but you can read it as an interesting study of those attitudes. This edition is accompanied by a wealth of extra material about Rohmer, the opium trade and the celebrity case that inspired his novel.