Chynna Clugston-Major offers up another one of her holiday-themed one-shots this week, and it's another amusing look at one's teen years, albeit through the eyes of some slightly extreme characters that are full of personality. This is also an accessible and witty comic book in which Clugston-Major balances conflicting tones of innocence and sexual awareness to achieve an entertaining and titillating effect that will be of interest to male and female readers. The creator's work is the epitome of hip in the world of comics. (Well... I assume it is... being the epitome of unhip, it's hard for me to tell.)
It's St. Patrick's Day, and if there's one thing that Bleu Finnegan and her friends love, it's an excuse to party. But for the most Irish among them -- Clover, who hails from the Emerald Isle itself -- the whole day is an exercise in annoyance and expectations, and she wants nothing of it. And, a couple of weeks later, Victor has trouble dealing with his birthday, and he gets caught reliving a rather embarrassing fad from his youth. In order to avoid ridicule, he embraces his moment of shame, all as a part of an elaborate April Fool's Day prank.
Though it was Bleu and her obsession with trends from days gone by that first drew me to this property, I've quickly grown found of the supporting cast of characters as well. As such, I was pleased to find that two of those backup characters are in the spotlight here. Clover's combination of tomboy ruggedness and obvious sex appeal make for a strong character; I love her brand of two-fisted feminism. And then there's Victor. Just as she did for Alan in the past, Clugston-Major adds just a hint of sweetness to this lovable lummox.
The creator's Amerimanga style really conveys the youthful energy and edge that are at the heart of Blue Monday. Her angular approach brings a dynamic quality even to those scenes in which we see nothing but talking heads. She crams each panel to the brim with detail. There was a time when I found Clugston-Major's style to be rather busy and cluttered, but that's not the case anymore. The layouts flow better, and she seems to be using bigger panels more often now. But at the same time, she doesn't sacrifice her style or the amount of information (visual and textual) that's characteristic of her work.
Blue Monday is a book that celebrates the innate silliness of adolscence. Clugston-Mahjor pokes fun at teen angst and adolscents' tendency to overdramatize the slightest development in their lives. But at the same time, she points out how great it was to simply be ready to party at a moment's notice, to break the rules and break hearts, with ignorance and innocence as sufficient shield from responsibility.
