I don't talk about it much, but one of my best friends from college died of cancer before his thirtieth birthday a few years ago. By that time, we had sort of drifted apart, and his death didn't hit me as hard as it would have if it had been when we were living in the same house or even the same state, but I do think about the good times we had, or even the bad times, and it's always a little sad because I realize we won't ever have those times again. Now, not everyone is going to be able to relate to the premise of A Sort of Homecoming on quite that specific a level, but I'll bet that everyone has had a once-crucial friendship drift away into nothing, or had to reconsider lost friendships or lost relationships at some point, and if you have, I'm sure you'll find a lot to like in the pages of A Sort of Homecoming.
Hurd's tale takes his protagonist, Owen, to New York City, where he reconnects in his mind with his recently deceased friend David. Hurd's script nicely moves between present and past, showing little things sparking memories and then launching into those flashbacks, and it rings true. In addition, it's a pretty good storytelling segue device, and I never found myself having trouble figuring out when we were in the present or when we were in the past. Hurd shows Owen developing from a reasonably happy kid into a somewhat depressed teenager and young man, and there's definitely a sense that David's death will be a turning point as Owen tries to reclaim his happiness.
In the meantime, what we get are very believable and entertaining stories of kids and young men sharing moments. Each of these is fairly specific to this pair of friends, but also the kind of thing readers will recognize from their own lives. I'm sure we've all had silly but fun traditions that sort of faded away when the friendships did, or have watched as friends become more popular and sort of leave their less-popular friends behind. Of course, it's not just the relatability of these stories that makes them so good, Hurd also writes some terrific and funny dialogue between Owen and David, and when Owen goes off on his "thought rant" against the friend who in his mind betrayed him, it's heart-breaking.
As important to the story as the dialogue is, Camello's artwork is just as important. His take on New York might not be quite as detailed as, say, Phil Winslade's "you are there" style in Monolith, but he does make the city instantly recognizable, especially in the sequence where Owen walks the streets again. More importantly, he is amazing when it comes to nailing the visual segues between the present and the past. Owen's wistful glance at the Star Trek poster takes us smoothly into the flashback, and the fireworks sequences do the same. He's good at picking a strong visual cue and using it. He's also just as good in making the characters' expressions speak volumes, in particular the surprisingly subtle levels of melancholy that Owen is capable of.
A Sort of Homecoming, like My Uncle Jeff, is a powerful read that resonates with experiences in the readers' lives. While Hurd and Camello are telling a specific story, there are familiar elements and themes that will recall memories and emotions as well as entertaining with a good story.
