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Strangers in Paradise Trade Paperbacks #1
Strangers in Paradise, The Collected volume 1
The Collected Strangers In Paradise begins the tale of two friends who share their lives and loves. It's a sometimes-heartwarming, sometimes-heartbreaking look at life and the relationships that we stumble through.
Meet Katchoo and Francine and learn how they deal with everyday issues in their own special way! Francine is unable to hold a meaningful and loving relationship with Freddy (who only wants to get into her pants). When Freddy breaks up with Francine, all hell breaks loose as Francine's roommate and longtime friend, Katchoo, decides to exact her revenge.
Included in this edition are the entire contents of the three-issue mini-series (Antarctic Press, 1993), the five-page story from Negative Burn #13(Caliber Press, 1993), plus additional artwork and pinups detailing the evolution of the story and characters.
Meet Katchoo and Francine and learn how they deal with everyday issues in their own special way! Francine is unable to hold a meaningful and loving relationship with Freddy (who only wants to get into her pants). When Freddy breaks up with Francine, all hell breaks loose as Francine's roommate and longtime friend, Katchoo, decides to exact her revenge.
Included in this edition are the entire contents of the three-issue mini-series (Antarctic Press, 1993), the five-page story from Negative Burn #13(Caliber Press, 1993), plus additional artwork and pinups detailing the evolution of the story and characters.
80 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 1994
25 people are currently reading
1792 people want to read
About the author
Terry Moore
817 books645 followersFollowing the examples of independent comic creators such as Dave Sim and Jeff Smith, he decided to publish Strangers in Paradise himself through his own Houston-based "Abstract Studios" imprint, and has frequently mentioned a desire to do a syndicated cartoon strip in the authors notes at the back of the Strangers in Paradise collection books. He has also mentioned his greatest career influence is Peanuts' Charles Schulz.[1] Some of Moore's strip work can additionally be found in his Paradise, Too! publications.
His work has won him recognition in the comics industry, including receiving the Eisner Award for Best Serialized Story in 1996 for Strangers in Paradise #1-8, which was collected in the trade paperback "I Dream of You".
It was announced on June 15th, 2007 that Moore would be taking over for Sean McKeever as writer of Marvel Comics's Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane series starting with a new issue #1. On July 27th, Marvel announced that Moore would also take over for Joss Whedon as writer of Marvel's Runaways.[2]
On November 19th, 2007 Terry Moore announced in his blog that his new self-published series would be named Echo and its first issue would appear on March 5th, 2008.[3]
His work has won him recognition in the comics industry, including receiving the Eisner Award for Best Serialized Story in 1996 for Strangers in Paradise #1-8, which was collected in the trade paperback "I Dream of You".
It was announced on June 15th, 2007 that Moore would be taking over for Sean McKeever as writer of Marvel Comics's Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane series starting with a new issue #1. On July 27th, Marvel announced that Moore would also take over for Joss Whedon as writer of Marvel's Runaways.[2]
On November 19th, 2007 Terry Moore announced in his blog that his new self-published series would be named Echo and its first issue would appear on March 5th, 2008.[3]
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 193 reviews
September 4, 2017
Back in the mid-90s I started reading Strangers In Paradise. I loved this comic book for the art, the humor, the heart-felt storylines, etc. I could not wait for the next issue!
Unfortunately, around the 30th issue or so, life took over and pulled me away from comic books. For some unfathomable reason, I didn't stick with this amazing story (hell, I loved it so much I even have a letter published in one of the issues!)
Well I am going back! I have every issue on hand and I am going to read them all in the chunks that comprise the volumes they were collected in. Hey, 20 years isn't too long of a wait, right!?
Needless to say, Volume 1 which contains all 3 issues of the first series, is 5 stars and what drew me in. Check it out - I dare you to not fall in love with Francine and Katchoo!
Unfortunately, around the 30th issue or so, life took over and pulled me away from comic books. For some unfathomable reason, I didn't stick with this amazing story (hell, I loved it so much I even have a letter published in one of the issues!)
Well I am going back! I have every issue on hand and I am going to read them all in the chunks that comprise the volumes they were collected in. Hey, 20 years isn't too long of a wait, right!?
Needless to say, Volume 1 which contains all 3 issues of the first series, is 5 stars and what drew me in. Check it out - I dare you to not fall in love with Francine and Katchoo!
March 8, 2016
Terry Moore's clean, slightly cartoony black-and-white drawing style is pleasant enough... if only the characters and their experiences weren't quite as bland and predictable! We are introduced to romantic and insecure Francine, rebellious and wild Katchoo, selfish and pretentious Freddie, and kind and gentle David - and the plot unfolds pretty much exactly the way you would expect. At this early stage, at least, Strangers in Paradise reads like a watered-down version of Love & Rockets.
January 10, 2014
The first time I started reading these books, I wasn't a comic reader at all. I saw them on sale in a game store, and I had some store credit, so, curious, I picked them up.
I don't remember much about my initial read through except that I liked them. I know this because I have 7-9 of the trade paperbacks. That was a significant investment for me back in the mid-1990s.
I also remember being frustrated that I couldn't finish the story, because I couldn't find *more* of the comics. Remember, this was the mid-90's. This was pre-internet for all intents and purposes. It was pre-amazon.
I bought the entire series a while back, and now, after more than two years, I'm finally sitting down to read the whole story.
It's an interesting experience. Not only am I nearly twenty years older (fuck) but I've read a *lot* of comics in the last 15 of those years. I wouldn't say that I'm especially knowledgeable about comics. But I like to think of myself as reasonably well-read in the medium.
So now I can appreciate more of what Moore was doing here. The series breaks with tradition in a lot of ways.
The art is good. And that's odd for me to say because 1) I'm not someone who especially takes note of art in a comic. And 2) this is a bit of a rare beast: a black and white comic.
So I should probably clarify what I mean when I say that the art is good. It's not that the art is specially fancy or eye-catching. But Moore has a knack for conveying emotion through facial expression, and that's something I don't see very often in comics.
And that particular skill is key for this story. The story is all about the relationships between a handful of characters. What's more, some of the tension in the story comes from the fact that the relationships are non-traditional (gay, lesbian, polyamorous...)
The people in this story have problems. Real emotional problems that they're trying to resolve. They have people they love, and they're trying to have good, healthy relationships in spite of the emotional baggage they're schlepping around. They're often confused. They treat each other unfairly.
It is, honestly, a lot like real life.
In my experience, a comic that focuses on this is a rare duck. (Understatement.) And it's probably safe to say that it was even more groundbreaking back in the day. I can only imagine how I felt about it back in my early twenties, back before I'd made some gay friends, met some feminists, had about a hundred important conversations, and generally got a solid cluing in.
This was before that. I was in my early twenties and I was, to be quite honest, a bit of a punk. A swaggering entitled straight white guy who hadn't but a lot of thought into what it might be like to be anything other than a straight white guy. Because when you're a straight white guy, you don't *have* to think about that....
I think reading this was probably good for me back then. The comic isn't preachy or anything, it just shows people trying to have relationships and struggling, and some of those relationships aren't boy-girl relationships.
Am I enjoying it?
Yes.
I'm about half of the way through the series right now, but I am enjoying it.
Truthfully, the story stutters a little bit early in the series, and I like to think (though I could be wrong) that it's Moore getting his sea legs, learning to write.
But there are some genuinely touching emotional moments in there. Any comic that makes me tear up is doing something right.
Is it worth reading?
Yeah. I think so. It's especially worth reading if you want to see something different in comics. This is one of the great indi classics in the genre.
It's also worth reading if you're not into mainstream superhero-style comics.
If you read Manga, (relationship focused manga) there's a solid chance you'll enjoy this too.
I don't remember much about my initial read through except that I liked them. I know this because I have 7-9 of the trade paperbacks. That was a significant investment for me back in the mid-1990s.
I also remember being frustrated that I couldn't finish the story, because I couldn't find *more* of the comics. Remember, this was the mid-90's. This was pre-internet for all intents and purposes. It was pre-amazon.
I bought the entire series a while back, and now, after more than two years, I'm finally sitting down to read the whole story.
It's an interesting experience. Not only am I nearly twenty years older (fuck) but I've read a *lot* of comics in the last 15 of those years. I wouldn't say that I'm especially knowledgeable about comics. But I like to think of myself as reasonably well-read in the medium.
So now I can appreciate more of what Moore was doing here. The series breaks with tradition in a lot of ways.
The art is good. And that's odd for me to say because 1) I'm not someone who especially takes note of art in a comic. And 2) this is a bit of a rare beast: a black and white comic.
So I should probably clarify what I mean when I say that the art is good. It's not that the art is specially fancy or eye-catching. But Moore has a knack for conveying emotion through facial expression, and that's something I don't see very often in comics.
And that particular skill is key for this story. The story is all about the relationships between a handful of characters. What's more, some of the tension in the story comes from the fact that the relationships are non-traditional (gay, lesbian, polyamorous...)
The people in this story have problems. Real emotional problems that they're trying to resolve. They have people they love, and they're trying to have good, healthy relationships in spite of the emotional baggage they're schlepping around. They're often confused. They treat each other unfairly.
It is, honestly, a lot like real life.
In my experience, a comic that focuses on this is a rare duck. (Understatement.) And it's probably safe to say that it was even more groundbreaking back in the day. I can only imagine how I felt about it back in my early twenties, back before I'd made some gay friends, met some feminists, had about a hundred important conversations, and generally got a solid cluing in.
This was before that. I was in my early twenties and I was, to be quite honest, a bit of a punk. A swaggering entitled straight white guy who hadn't but a lot of thought into what it might be like to be anything other than a straight white guy. Because when you're a straight white guy, you don't *have* to think about that....
I think reading this was probably good for me back then. The comic isn't preachy or anything, it just shows people trying to have relationships and struggling, and some of those relationships aren't boy-girl relationships.
Am I enjoying it?
Yes.
I'm about half of the way through the series right now, but I am enjoying it.
Truthfully, the story stutters a little bit early in the series, and I like to think (though I could be wrong) that it's Moore getting his sea legs, learning to write.
But there are some genuinely touching emotional moments in there. Any comic that makes me tear up is doing something right.
Is it worth reading?
Yeah. I think so. It's especially worth reading if you want to see something different in comics. This is one of the great indi classics in the genre.
It's also worth reading if you're not into mainstream superhero-style comics.
If you read Manga, (relationship focused manga) there's a solid chance you'll enjoy this too.
March 9, 2008
This is a bit weird for me. On one hand, the story keeps my interest and I enjoy the illustrations a lot, there's something strange about Terry Moore. I mean, what's his deal with lesbians? He seems half-way a feminist comic book guy like Adrien Tomine or Daniel Clowes, but on the other side of the coin like the creepy Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons who secretly watches The L Word to jack off to. I have a bit of a problem with the female characters, Katchoo is a raging "man-hating dyke" and Francine is the typical stereotype of a "weak, dependent straight girl". I have no idea what is going to happen with the boy Katchoo meets at the art gallery. Part of me wants to finish this just to see how things pan out, and another part of me is really critical about the stereotyping as well as at the presumption of the male writer/illustrator as to the scope of diversity to be found amongst women. I think if you're going to attempt to tackle issues of gender and sexuality as well as writing from the viewpoint of the opposite sex, you do end up walking a fine line between assumption and empathy, and in Moore's case, he falls short of understanding and is teetering perilously close to assumption. If you really want to read the work of a male comic book artist/feminist, check out Adrian Tomine.
April 2, 2019
It's kind of silly that I have never read a Terry Moore comic until now. I don't know why. It was always something I knew I should look into but just never got around to.
For some odd reason, tonight, on a whim, I decided it was time. I don't know why; perhaps its because I have a banger of a head cold going on right now and in my fevered state of not being able to find anything to hold my attention I figured maybe this would occupy some time.
And it did. I read the whole thing from front to back and I friggen loved it! I loved the characters and I want to know more about them now. Also, Terry Moore's line art was incredible and by the 3rd page, I knew that I was going to read this entire series.
The good news is...there's a shit ton of it. So maybe it's a good thing that I've waited this long? Now I can binge. :)
For some odd reason, tonight, on a whim, I decided it was time. I don't know why; perhaps its because I have a banger of a head cold going on right now and in my fevered state of not being able to find anything to hold my attention I figured maybe this would occupy some time.
And it did. I read the whole thing from front to back and I friggen loved it! I loved the characters and I want to know more about them now. Also, Terry Moore's line art was incredible and by the 3rd page, I knew that I was going to read this entire series.
The good news is...there's a shit ton of it. So maybe it's a good thing that I've waited this long? Now I can binge. :)
January 15, 2021
Loved over-the-top Katchoo and would like to read more of her escapades.
September 23, 2020
The dialog among the characters felt so organic and real. The art is absolutely stunning. The story is simple but so compelling.
July 28, 2017
I happened to see this book one day when I was in a comic book shop looking for other titles. Having some extra money at my disposal, I decided to buy this title. If I didn't like it, I just wouldn't buy more titles. But I was hooked from the first issue. I really liked the art style and how bodies and faces were drawn, and the story itself was entertaining. Little was I to know how much I would come to love this series and devour every subsequent book that came along.
It's not a superhero story like so many comic books are. No supernatural elements. No science fiction, or anything that typically draws audiences in to graphic novels but the storytelling and art are excellent. It's about ordinary people with dreams, attitudes, personalities, and their fair share of humorous and serious moments, along with some comical situations. It's hard to not like Katchoo, and the dialogue from the first page is snappy.
It's not a superhero story like so many comic books are. No supernatural elements. No science fiction, or anything that typically draws audiences in to graphic novels but the storytelling and art are excellent. It's about ordinary people with dreams, attitudes, personalities, and their fair share of humorous and serious moments, along with some comical situations. It's hard to not like Katchoo, and the dialogue from the first page is snappy.
February 3, 2016
I would say it's obvious this is Terry Moore's first comic book comparing to his newer works, but I genuinely enjoyed it. Good narrative, character development, and individual voice.
Maybe the main qualm I have is in the way the women are drawn. Though more realistic, they're still pretty comic book in their stances (overly sexually suggestive poses in normal situations), so it kind of feels like Moore is just adding some visible fat here and there to an otherwise usual comic style. It's not a bad thing - probably good even - but I couldn't help as I was reading but feel maybe the artist just likes his women chubbier...
Oh also there are Asian characters (at least I think) without being "Asian" outright, so that's always a plus on diversity and assimilation.
Looking forward to the next volumes to see Moore's progression as an artist and storyteller!
Maybe the main qualm I have is in the way the women are drawn. Though more realistic, they're still pretty comic book in their stances (overly sexually suggestive poses in normal situations), so it kind of feels like Moore is just adding some visible fat here and there to an otherwise usual comic style. It's not a bad thing - probably good even - but I couldn't help as I was reading but feel maybe the artist just likes his women chubbier...
Oh also there are Asian characters (at least I think) without being "Asian" outright, so that's always a plus on diversity and assimilation.
Looking forward to the next volumes to see Moore's progression as an artist and storyteller!
November 8, 2015
Strangers in Paradise is absolutely perfect, especially for those interested in feminism, gender equality and LGBT relationships.
Katchoo, who is in love with her best friend Francine, is my favorite character for a million reasons. She has her hands tied, because Francine is dating a jerk, but she's not trying to get the girl or anything, she just wants to see her friend happy.
Katchoo is extremely devoted to Francine and her loyalty seems unlimited, which is very dysfunctional. To be honest, they're both fucked up, but what's the fun in being normal? I love it when Katchoo gets violent, by the way. I wouldn't trade her acid humor and cruel jokes for anything. I'm slightly obsessed with this series.
Katchoo, who is in love with her best friend Francine, is my favorite character for a million reasons. She has her hands tied, because Francine is dating a jerk, but she's not trying to get the girl or anything, she just wants to see her friend happy.
Katchoo is extremely devoted to Francine and her loyalty seems unlimited, which is very dysfunctional. To be honest, they're both fucked up, but what's the fun in being normal? I love it when Katchoo gets violent, by the way. I wouldn't trade her acid humor and cruel jokes for anything. I'm slightly obsessed with this series.
March 17, 2010
yes these are cheesy and trashy and unrealistic etc but...i love this series. so over the top, so addictive, so lush and intense. these books are like the new friend (who is a bit out of date and no-one else is friends with) that you have a crush on. you want to hang out with them all the time cos they are pretty and goofy and dramatic and funny. i love the 90s ness of the early ones and i'm so sad they are over.
June 17, 2017
Someone (I don't remember who) eagerly recommend me this, and even though I wasn't very interested in reading it, I finally resolved to see what the fuss was about. Well, I don't get it. The characters are, in my opinion, nut jobs who need to chillax a bit and the story was just nothing special. But, what the hell, I don't know how Moore does it, but I want to keep reading to see where the characters are headed (maybe the madhouse). So, I'll probably read the next volume and we'll see.
April 3, 2013
Rereading for a MOOC on Gender and Comics. It's really hard for me to review this divorced from the rest of the series. I love Strangers in Paradise, despite some things being problematic. But I also feel like maybe 100 years from now it'll seem quaint and dated and the things that I so easily overlooked in the series because it fills such a void in what is written won't be so easy to overlook with better books around.
This shouldn't scare anyone off from the series as a whole but volume 1 is rough in general and it's almost worse when looked at in the context of the series. If you read it alone and purely view it as a humorous story based around a bunch of stereotypes it might be fine but it sucks as a starting place for these characters that grow so much more nuanced over the series. (I'd advise readers to give volume 2 and 3 a chance, especially volume 3, even if you had no interest in this.)
The art is terrific though. That's consistent from the beginning.
This shouldn't scare anyone off from the series as a whole but volume 1 is rough in general and it's almost worse when looked at in the context of the series. If you read it alone and purely view it as a humorous story based around a bunch of stereotypes it might be fine but it sucks as a starting place for these characters that grow so much more nuanced over the series. (I'd advise readers to give volume 2 and 3 a chance, especially volume 3, even if you had no interest in this.)
The art is terrific though. That's consistent from the beginning.
January 24, 2008
All these Strangers in Paradise collections are fucking horrible, I can't even begin to describe the lameness. Two really boring female characters in their 20's, one is a former call-girl and is secretly in love with the other. This is basically a case of some douchebag horny guy making a comic book where he can explore how he feels lesbians might act, and it all comes out as laugh-out-loud stupid or just boring to anyone who lives in the real world. This concept was done waaaaay better by the Hernandez bros. in "Love and Rockets."
April 24, 2013
I read this for the class I'm taking on gender in comics, so I was pretty much thinking about gender the entire time. As far as that goes, superficially Terry Moore draws women more "realistically" then most comic books, which he should because this is a book about regular people. On the other hand, and especially after I saw the little character breakdowns included and how he was describing Katchoo and Francine, I feel like this isn't so much Terry drawing women realistically as it is Terry just liking his ladies a little chubbier than most comic book dudes. They were incredibly sexualized and Francine especially is stuck up on some golden wonderful-life-fulfilling-woman pedestal. Ugh. It felt a lot like guys who say "I don't like girls who wear a lot of makeup and diet all the time." It didn't make me feel any better about comics and their portrayal of women, anyways.
Story-wise I found this incredibly boring. Oh well!
I did, however, really love the way Terry lays out his pages. I'd love to read a book by him that wasn't about his girlfriend fantasies and had some interesting action in it.
Story-wise I found this incredibly boring. Oh well!
I did, however, really love the way Terry lays out his pages. I'd love to read a book by him that wasn't about his girlfriend fantasies and had some interesting action in it.
February 26, 2017
Very well drawn and written. Characters a bit over the top, it's almost a black and white parody of male-female relationships. But I enjoyed it and will read more if I can find it.
January 25, 2015
You can read this on my blog: my Brilsby's Whims
On the shelf, a woman’s blackened eye stares at me through a tear in darkness. The eye, reddened and swollen, does not cry, not even quivering to predict tears. Firm eyes, strong spirit, looking out beneath the words, ‘Strangers in Paradise: Omnibus,’ and above the signature, ‘Terry Moore’. Not merely box art, but an image from within the story imposed without, overflowing into reality, as if to say, ‘This is no slice-of-life contained between two covers for easy intake. This is life.’
‘Epic-length relationship drama’ will likely turn off a large portion (of a certain half) of SiP’s potential readers. A two thousand page exploration of the lives of two women, Francine and Katchoo, whose relationships filial, romantic and platonic bloom, whither and still-birth before us. A good deal of men, I shall generalise, might condemn it, unread, as ‘chick-lit’ (here used pejoratively). I won’t say it is more than that, out of respect to chick-lit*, but I will say it is more than they think of that.
Written over fourteen years, from 1993 to 2007, totalling 106 issues Terry Moore’s Strangers in Paradise is comprised of three ‘volumes’, and since its initial publication has been acclaimed as one of comics’ masterworks. The first volume, only three issues long, feels like Moore winding his characters up to see how they run, testing the dramatic potential of their relationships to decide whether a grander undertaking could be set upon.
While the tentative reader should not limit their trial run to this initial outing, it does nonetheless function as a microcosm of the entire series. Moore sets up Katchoo and Francine, their relationship to each other and their relationships to the wider world. Katchoo, the reader infers, seems a bohemian, but unrooted, twenty-something with a love-hate (mostly and professedly hate) relationship with men, and an aching love, both romantic and friendly, for Francine, her roommate. Contrasting Katchoo, Francine suffers from insecurity, resulting in a fear that anyone she opens her heart to ‘will leave [her] like all the others’ once they satisfy their cravings. A belief undeterred by boyfriend, and arse, Freddie Femur.
Although these early issues take place in a slightly cartoonier reality than the series proper, with casual recourse to (comedic) violence, Moore grounds events in reality, making sure consequences extend from actions. When Katchoo finds out Francine caught her boyfriend cheating on her (another mark against a character Moore draws as a caricature of male entitlement) she exacts on him a revenge most swift and most foul. Breaking into his apartment with a gun and hired muscle, she ties him up and tells him she’ll castrate him (she doesn’t). Cue the next morning and the reader sees Freddie strung up in a shop window, naked spare a clown wig, with a magnifying glass focussed on his carefully obscured genitals. Most writers would end that plot there. Poetic justice has been carried out, one of our protagonists has been avenged. Not Moore, though. Law exists in his world, and no matter how odious the victim may be, it is still illegal to break into someone’s house and string them up naked in public. The next morning the police come knocking on Katchoo’s door, and while the image of a dozen gun barrels centred on gape-mouthed Katchoo plays far too Looney Tunes to appear any later in the series, Moore makes his point to the reader: Events do not occur in vacuums. A terrible decision made one issue will not be forgotten by the next. In a way this one event foreshadows the interconnected web of the entire series. Events tens of issues ago will return, sometimes like a shambling drunk you remember you wronged, and sometimes like a congratulatory letter in the mail from that contest you forgot entering. Bit characters introduced as a few lines of idiosyncratic but disposable dialogue reappear as minor, or even crucial, characters. What results is a living world extending beyond the protagonist’s direct actions and immediate circumstances.
While I’m loathe to whittle a work down to a sentiment, Moore does lay down a thematic through-line on the series’ very first page through its namesake quote**, ‘[W]ithout love, we’re never more than strangers in paradise.’ Whether wealthy or poor, strong or weak, regardless of whether they’ve achieved American Dream, or just their parents’ dream, no character in the series finds true happiness until they’ve found others to unreservedly give themselves to.
The unreserved part is crucial. Halfway through the series Moore highlights the on-again-off-again relationship between Katchoo and Francine, where as soon as they seem to take the definitive plunge one or both of them retreat because of something rash, or merely non-conducive, one or the other of them does. One character says, in that way that makes it clear the writer is arguing the opposite point, ‘I don’t believe people like this really exist! ... Keep it simple.’ And that’s one of the beauties of this series. The work isn’t unrealistic, it just doesn’t conform to the simple narrative readers are trained to expect. By playing out what could have a short story (and in some ways was a short story in the first three issues) over thousands of pages and years of in-universe time Moore explores his central theme with the exhaustiveness necessary to communicate it. Were the series lacking that exhaustiveness then the central theme embodied in the quote, ‘[W]ithout love, we’re never more than strangers in paradise,’ would reek of platitude, a message to fly out of mind when you throw out the Hallmark card. But then, platitudes are the hardest things to prove, being so often repeated by half-articulate tongues that people become vaccinated against the sentiment.
There is a Zen parable where a general comes to monk and asks, ‘What is the secret to contentment?’
The monk replies, ‘Eat only when you are hungry. Sleep only when you are tired.’
‘But that’s obvious,’ says the general. ‘Why do they call you wise if all you do is repeat what everyone knows?’
‘If everyone knows,’ replies the monk, ‘why do so few do it?’
Moore explores a sentiment so ingrained in humanity that intellectually it goes uninspected and, as such, more or less rejected. Far from being unrealistic the series is, emotionally, one of the most true to life works out there.
I clarified with ‘emotionally’ there because while the series is generally true to life, it takes many deviations from the everyday plot-wise. Those with passing knowledge of the plot’s structure may wonder why I’m only now bringing up the ‘thriller’ storyline. The reason, frankly, is that it’s not that interesting. For those not in the know, after the first three issues Moore seeds and flowers a thriller story-line, containing assassins, mob conspiracies, (non-comedic) action and other elements that the words ‘relationship drama’ would not key the reader into. I’m sure parts of the thriller are realistic, in the way that spies and mafia dons are, but they feel like intrusions when presented in a slice-of-life story. And while the thriller elements are essential to the plot and grow increasingly well integrated into the story-line, such that the contrast between a gunfight and a family meeting does not break the reader’s suspension of disbelief, many readers will probably wish them gone altogether. Maybe they give the series a spice of idiosyncrasy? Maybe every return from thriller mode refreshes the slice-of-life sections, because a sustained slice-of-life narrative would have grown stale? To be clear, the thriller story isn’t bad. Don’t let it turn you off, it’s perfectly serviceable. Only occasionally does it fall off its tightrope into action movie theatrics. The thriller plot, like the halfway-charismatic host of a party, though seemingly necessary to the whole affair, cannot help but make a sink in your stomach whenever they come up from behind to start a conversation. But who knows, maybe this through-plot broadens the potential audience.
Apart from these narrative branches the series feels utterly believable, with characters leading organically branching lives. A la The French Lieutenant’s Woman, the series has three endings to demonstrate life’s lack of certainty. Two are, or at least feel, genuine, and one is merely a character’s prediction. Moore commits, in the genuine endings, only to hazy denouements, acknowledging that the remaining course of a life could not be set out in a few finishing pages. Even the most conclusive ending closes with what seems a wink from the characters and Moore. A door closes on you, the reader, implying that while the story ends here, their lives go on. What ends is merely your window into them.
On point of artwork, Moore’s panels flow with clarity, and his characters are expressive. With any serial work, especially a first-timer’s fourteen year one, you expect gap in quality between the first page and the last. For most illustrators this would be an increase in quality as they get their eye in. But of Moore’s initial and final styles neither can be called better or worse, rather, he achieves a style better suited to the story he’s telling. As I mentioned earlier, the first three issues feel cartoonier than the rest. A cartoonist must always have an eye for body language. Lacking the tones of voice film lends and the internal analysis of thought prose lends, he must communicate the nuance of dialogue through how he positions a body. Moore very quickly achieves a style with subtle body language, but the beginning marks itself with hyperbolic poses.
On the negative side of his art: while his faces have much expressiveness, they don’t have much variety. Many illustrators have a limited repertoire of distinct faces, but in a series with so many characters it gets particularly bad. At times I would wonder, ‘Is she that woman with the slight double chin?’ or, ‘Is she that blonde woman?’*** A minor issue, one that only detracted from my reading experience a few times, but a legitimate gripe nonetheless.
Strangers in Paradise is one of those series where even if you don’t like it, you can’t help but be impressed. Moore has created a large and varied cast of authentic characters. From a narrow patch he seeds a plot whose branches spread wide and overlap. The worst I can say of this series is it falters, though never falls, whenever it strays from its slice-of-life path. It’s a good read, it’s a deep read, it should be on a list of modern classics. It’s the kind of book that guilts you into thinking, ‘If I’ve not read this, it’s my own fault.’
*Just like I won’t say The Handmaid’s Tale is ‘more than sci-fi’.
**I say namesake quote, but, as far as I can find, the quotation is entirely Moore’s own creation. Yet another technique he employs over the course of the series, the fabrication of thematically relevant artwork (e.g. song lyrics which, in the time before Google, could easily fool some readers into believing they exist as actual songs).
***Given the series is black and white, all characters, effectively, are either black-haired or blond.
On the shelf, a woman’s blackened eye stares at me through a tear in darkness. The eye, reddened and swollen, does not cry, not even quivering to predict tears. Firm eyes, strong spirit, looking out beneath the words, ‘Strangers in Paradise: Omnibus,’ and above the signature, ‘Terry Moore’. Not merely box art, but an image from within the story imposed without, overflowing into reality, as if to say, ‘This is no slice-of-life contained between two covers for easy intake. This is life.’
‘Epic-length relationship drama’ will likely turn off a large portion (of a certain half) of SiP’s potential readers. A two thousand page exploration of the lives of two women, Francine and Katchoo, whose relationships filial, romantic and platonic bloom, whither and still-birth before us. A good deal of men, I shall generalise, might condemn it, unread, as ‘chick-lit’ (here used pejoratively). I won’t say it is more than that, out of respect to chick-lit*, but I will say it is more than they think of that.
Written over fourteen years, from 1993 to 2007, totalling 106 issues Terry Moore’s Strangers in Paradise is comprised of three ‘volumes’, and since its initial publication has been acclaimed as one of comics’ masterworks. The first volume, only three issues long, feels like Moore winding his characters up to see how they run, testing the dramatic potential of their relationships to decide whether a grander undertaking could be set upon.
While the tentative reader should not limit their trial run to this initial outing, it does nonetheless function as a microcosm of the entire series. Moore sets up Katchoo and Francine, their relationship to each other and their relationships to the wider world. Katchoo, the reader infers, seems a bohemian, but unrooted, twenty-something with a love-hate (mostly and professedly hate) relationship with men, and an aching love, both romantic and friendly, for Francine, her roommate. Contrasting Katchoo, Francine suffers from insecurity, resulting in a fear that anyone she opens her heart to ‘will leave [her] like all the others’ once they satisfy their cravings. A belief undeterred by boyfriend, and arse, Freddie Femur.
Although these early issues take place in a slightly cartoonier reality than the series proper, with casual recourse to (comedic) violence, Moore grounds events in reality, making sure consequences extend from actions. When Katchoo finds out Francine caught her boyfriend cheating on her (another mark against a character Moore draws as a caricature of male entitlement) she exacts on him a revenge most swift and most foul. Breaking into his apartment with a gun and hired muscle, she ties him up and tells him she’ll castrate him (she doesn’t). Cue the next morning and the reader sees Freddie strung up in a shop window, naked spare a clown wig, with a magnifying glass focussed on his carefully obscured genitals. Most writers would end that plot there. Poetic justice has been carried out, one of our protagonists has been avenged. Not Moore, though. Law exists in his world, and no matter how odious the victim may be, it is still illegal to break into someone’s house and string them up naked in public. The next morning the police come knocking on Katchoo’s door, and while the image of a dozen gun barrels centred on gape-mouthed Katchoo plays far too Looney Tunes to appear any later in the series, Moore makes his point to the reader: Events do not occur in vacuums. A terrible decision made one issue will not be forgotten by the next. In a way this one event foreshadows the interconnected web of the entire series. Events tens of issues ago will return, sometimes like a shambling drunk you remember you wronged, and sometimes like a congratulatory letter in the mail from that contest you forgot entering. Bit characters introduced as a few lines of idiosyncratic but disposable dialogue reappear as minor, or even crucial, characters. What results is a living world extending beyond the protagonist’s direct actions and immediate circumstances.
While I’m loathe to whittle a work down to a sentiment, Moore does lay down a thematic through-line on the series’ very first page through its namesake quote**, ‘[W]ithout love, we’re never more than strangers in paradise.’ Whether wealthy or poor, strong or weak, regardless of whether they’ve achieved American Dream, or just their parents’ dream, no character in the series finds true happiness until they’ve found others to unreservedly give themselves to.
The unreserved part is crucial. Halfway through the series Moore highlights the on-again-off-again relationship between Katchoo and Francine, where as soon as they seem to take the definitive plunge one or both of them retreat because of something rash, or merely non-conducive, one or the other of them does. One character says, in that way that makes it clear the writer is arguing the opposite point, ‘I don’t believe people like this really exist! ... Keep it simple.’ And that’s one of the beauties of this series. The work isn’t unrealistic, it just doesn’t conform to the simple narrative readers are trained to expect. By playing out what could have a short story (and in some ways was a short story in the first three issues) over thousands of pages and years of in-universe time Moore explores his central theme with the exhaustiveness necessary to communicate it. Were the series lacking that exhaustiveness then the central theme embodied in the quote, ‘[W]ithout love, we’re never more than strangers in paradise,’ would reek of platitude, a message to fly out of mind when you throw out the Hallmark card. But then, platitudes are the hardest things to prove, being so often repeated by half-articulate tongues that people become vaccinated against the sentiment.
There is a Zen parable where a general comes to monk and asks, ‘What is the secret to contentment?’
The monk replies, ‘Eat only when you are hungry. Sleep only when you are tired.’
‘But that’s obvious,’ says the general. ‘Why do they call you wise if all you do is repeat what everyone knows?’
‘If everyone knows,’ replies the monk, ‘why do so few do it?’
Moore explores a sentiment so ingrained in humanity that intellectually it goes uninspected and, as such, more or less rejected. Far from being unrealistic the series is, emotionally, one of the most true to life works out there.
I clarified with ‘emotionally’ there because while the series is generally true to life, it takes many deviations from the everyday plot-wise. Those with passing knowledge of the plot’s structure may wonder why I’m only now bringing up the ‘thriller’ storyline. The reason, frankly, is that it’s not that interesting. For those not in the know, after the first three issues Moore seeds and flowers a thriller story-line, containing assassins, mob conspiracies, (non-comedic) action and other elements that the words ‘relationship drama’ would not key the reader into. I’m sure parts of the thriller are realistic, in the way that spies and mafia dons are, but they feel like intrusions when presented in a slice-of-life story. And while the thriller elements are essential to the plot and grow increasingly well integrated into the story-line, such that the contrast between a gunfight and a family meeting does not break the reader’s suspension of disbelief, many readers will probably wish them gone altogether. Maybe they give the series a spice of idiosyncrasy? Maybe every return from thriller mode refreshes the slice-of-life sections, because a sustained slice-of-life narrative would have grown stale? To be clear, the thriller story isn’t bad. Don’t let it turn you off, it’s perfectly serviceable. Only occasionally does it fall off its tightrope into action movie theatrics. The thriller plot, like the halfway-charismatic host of a party, though seemingly necessary to the whole affair, cannot help but make a sink in your stomach whenever they come up from behind to start a conversation. But who knows, maybe this through-plot broadens the potential audience.
Apart from these narrative branches the series feels utterly believable, with characters leading organically branching lives. A la The French Lieutenant’s Woman, the series has three endings to demonstrate life’s lack of certainty. Two are, or at least feel, genuine, and one is merely a character’s prediction. Moore commits, in the genuine endings, only to hazy denouements, acknowledging that the remaining course of a life could not be set out in a few finishing pages. Even the most conclusive ending closes with what seems a wink from the characters and Moore. A door closes on you, the reader, implying that while the story ends here, their lives go on. What ends is merely your window into them.
On point of artwork, Moore’s panels flow with clarity, and his characters are expressive. With any serial work, especially a first-timer’s fourteen year one, you expect gap in quality between the first page and the last. For most illustrators this would be an increase in quality as they get their eye in. But of Moore’s initial and final styles neither can be called better or worse, rather, he achieves a style better suited to the story he’s telling. As I mentioned earlier, the first three issues feel cartoonier than the rest. A cartoonist must always have an eye for body language. Lacking the tones of voice film lends and the internal analysis of thought prose lends, he must communicate the nuance of dialogue through how he positions a body. Moore very quickly achieves a style with subtle body language, but the beginning marks itself with hyperbolic poses.
On the negative side of his art: while his faces have much expressiveness, they don’t have much variety. Many illustrators have a limited repertoire of distinct faces, but in a series with so many characters it gets particularly bad. At times I would wonder, ‘Is she that woman with the slight double chin?’ or, ‘Is she that blonde woman?’*** A minor issue, one that only detracted from my reading experience a few times, but a legitimate gripe nonetheless.
Strangers in Paradise is one of those series where even if you don’t like it, you can’t help but be impressed. Moore has created a large and varied cast of authentic characters. From a narrow patch he seeds a plot whose branches spread wide and overlap. The worst I can say of this series is it falters, though never falls, whenever it strays from its slice-of-life path. It’s a good read, it’s a deep read, it should be on a list of modern classics. It’s the kind of book that guilts you into thinking, ‘If I’ve not read this, it’s my own fault.’
*Just like I won’t say The Handmaid’s Tale is ‘more than sci-fi’.
**I say namesake quote, but, as far as I can find, the quotation is entirely Moore’s own creation. Yet another technique he employs over the course of the series, the fabrication of thematically relevant artwork (e.g. song lyrics which, in the time before Google, could easily fool some readers into believing they exist as actual songs).
***Given the series is black and white, all characters, effectively, are either black-haired or blond.
April 18, 2025
Yeah so when I went to review the last one on goodreads I realised I was reading volume 2.
But now I’ve gone and found the first one, and it clears a few things up. I mean at this point it serves mostly just as setup for the second, but still just as fun.
But now I’ve gone and found the first one, and it clears a few things up. I mean at this point it serves mostly just as setup for the second, but still just as fun.
July 12, 2020
This was interesting! I’ve seen SIP around for years so it was neat to go back to the origins and five it a try. Thoughtfully crafted characters and expressive artwork. Poetry in comic book form.
June 30, 2021
Man, Betty and Veronica sure are different than I remember them as a kid. I thought this collection was so good, truly. Very nostalgic and totally my style. I’m going to try and get my hands on the rest very soon!
April 9, 2022
I have only read Echo by Terry Moore before but I had seen a lot of praise for his strangers in paradise series. So when a humble bundle came along I decided to grab it all. And now I have read the first book. The story was a bit more over the top then I expected. I expected it to be even more soapy and less humoristic. That being said I still very much liked this. And Terry Moore's art is very beautiful. He is one of the few comic artist that can really draw female characters. They don't look like hyper sexualized male fantasies, while still being very sexy and beautiful. And they also have real emotions and real reactions (although with a bit of soap opera exaggeration) I'm looking forward to the next installment.
June 22, 2022
If I would change anything, it would definitely be the climax.
April 3, 2024
Overall, I liked this book. The illustration is gorgeous and very detailed. The story gets kind of overly complex, and it can feel muddled and overdone in some places, but it packs an emotional punch that kept me reading. I am curious to see where these characters will end up over time, but the amount of volumes is pretty overwhelming, especially feeling as if this first volume of story is just pretty good. I think I will end up reading the next volume, but, if the next volume stays fairly similar to the first, tone-wise, I'm not sure I could see myself continuing past that.
March 28, 2013
So... maybe I'm not your standard lady, I don't know. People tell me all the time that I'm terrible at being a girl. That being said, I can't believe I'm so out of touch with being female as to think that Terry Moore does even a mediocre job at portraying women, friendship, romance, or ANYTHING in this. (I wouldn't actually call that a spoiler, but... meh.
First, there wasn't a single character in this who I liked. Honestly, not one. Everyone is a stereotype of awfulness - one is a clingy, needy straight girl who is dating a horrible slimeball, and her roommate is a man-hating angry lesbian bad girl who used to get suspended from school back in the day.
The only even *maybe* okay character is David, and that's probably just because we don't actually know anything about him yet. We just get the vague impression that he doesn't take Katchoo seriously about being a lesbian, which is insulting to say the least. It's like some guy at the bar going "Well, you just haven't had the right MAN yet". These people were just such... caricatures. I felt like there was this spark, this iota of possibility in each where if they'd just been written differently - even if they'd been going through the same exact story - you might have had a chance of liking them or understanding them. But nope, straight out messes, every single one.
I'm also just not a fan of the art style. The faces in particular feel very reminiscent of old Archie comics, and that makes it even harder for me to take these characters seriously.
First, there wasn't a single character in this who I liked. Honestly, not one. Everyone is a stereotype of awfulness - one is a clingy, needy straight girl who is dating a horrible slimeball, and her roommate is a man-hating angry lesbian bad girl who used to get suspended from school back in the day.
The only even *maybe* okay character is David, and that's probably just because we don't actually know anything about him yet. We just get the vague impression that he doesn't take Katchoo seriously about being a lesbian, which is insulting to say the least. It's like some guy at the bar going "Well, you just haven't had the right MAN yet". These people were just such... caricatures. I felt like there was this spark, this iota of possibility in each where if they'd just been written differently - even if they'd been going through the same exact story - you might have had a chance of liking them or understanding them. But nope, straight out messes, every single one.
I'm also just not a fan of the art style. The faces in particular feel very reminiscent of old Archie comics, and that makes it even harder for me to take these characters seriously.
October 25, 2016
Yeeeah... no. I didn't like the artwork, I didn't like the story and the main characters are both horrible. Katchoo is insane. Seriously. She's a terrible person, violent, rude and full of hatred, she's dangerous and should probably be either in jail or committed. Francine is a hysterical idiot. She acts like the victim all the time, when all that's been happening to her has been the result of her own choices. Freddie is outrageously and with no reason at all portrayed as a bad person in the beginning (how sexist of him! to want to sleep with his girlfriend of one year! OMG, the misogyny!) and then turned into a complete carricature as the volume progresses. He's a cheater, a womaniser, he's sexist and homophobic and he's also corrupted and stealing money from his clients. And all this, to make us sympathize with Francine and Katchoo, whose actions are batshit crazy either way. Poetry was pretty decent, though, and David was a fairly nice character. I'm surprised, since every other man in the book has been an awful, sexist pig, but David is OK. Bottom line: I have a strong reaction to works of art trying to force feed me ideas. I like to question things and be challenged, that's what I want from a work of art. Not hitting me repeatedly on the head with "Feminism for Dummies".
July 12, 2008
Es increíble cuantas veces se puede uno regresar a leer Strangers in Paradise, un comic que segun dicen, fue uno de los primeros en ser leídos ávidamente por el sector femenino. Es la historia de un triángulo amoroso que no progresa, pero hay más, asesinatos, mafia, lesbianismo, infidelidades, reencuentros familiares. Creo sin embargo que esto no es lo más importante del trabajo de Terry Moore, sino su habilidoso manejo del lenguaje y de situaciones normales en la vida de las personas, vistas con un lente de humor ácido y poco indulgente. Los diálogos casuales, esos que tienes con una vieja amiga que reencuentras en un video club, son la parte más memorable de esta novela gráfica. Recomendable para divertirse un buen.
March 30, 2011
Male fantasy fulfillment masquerading as feminism. Moore's work is anti-chauvinist, but only so he can justify the blatant (and defining) sexualization of his female characters. Humorless and trite, but at least the art is vibrant.
May 9, 2007
Lesbian assassin comic book series that's delicious and heartbreaking at the same time...it rocks!
December 31, 2012
After three issues, I don't get it. I need someone to convince me it gets better.
July 6, 2016
Katchoo is the embodiment of my relatively new misandrist side. Obsessed.
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