"I wasn't born in Texas, but I got here as fast as I could." That's a common bumper sticker in my hometown of Austin, Texas. It's a sentiment I can sort of get behind, as I love my adopted Texas home and much of what this state stands for, even though I certainly wasn't in a rush to get here. Like many who lived outside Texas, I assumed the worst about the state and resisted coming down here for a good long time. The thing many don't understand is that Texas isn't just George W. Bush and Confederate doctrine and backwards shit-kickers, but it's a tradition of independence and honor and southern charm. If you can mix the Texas spirit with more liberal politics (as is done regularly in Austin), you've really got something. Which is a long-winded way of explaining my fondness for Alamo, less a story and little more than an illustrated history lesson about one of the pivotal moments of Texas history. I don't know that this book will translate for those without some fondness for the Texas spirit and tradition, but Espinosa does a great job of taking a pivotal event and using comics to dramatize and explain it.
Alamo: The Comic Book is an unusual project. Certainly the film (and another one coming up) probably played into the decision to produce it, but it probably also had something to do with Antarctic being a San Antonio-based publisher. While it's an interesting story, to be sure, telling it in one comic seems like an impossible task, unless you focus less on the dramatic possibilities and more on getting the information out. This comic is more of an illustrated text piece, a variety of beautiful art pages with an omniscient narrator telling the story of the Alamo from beginning to end. It's not a format I'm crazy about, and I'd rather have seen more of a dramatic narrative with a longer format, but Espinosa makes the limited format work.
A big part of the reason it works is that I can see the potential of this as an educational tool. The writing borders on the propaganda side of things, presenting Santa Anna as a monster and not just a flawed human being and the defenders of the Alamo as saints rather than flawed human beings as well. However, there's also a lot of good facts to be found in here, background on what led to the battle of the Alamo and what it represented that I really didn't know, as someone who wasn't raised on stories of Texas. I wouldn't be surprised if the biggest audience for this book is to be found in the elementary schools of Texas, explaining what "Remember the Alamo!" is really supposed to mean.
For those who have no interest in the story of Texas, or who find the whole notion of defending a doomed fortress to be more tragic than heroic, Alamo: The Comic really doesn't have much to offer. Sadly, I expect that this cuts out of the majority of the comics-reading audience, and almost certainly isn't going to go over well given the increasing (and generally justified) anti-American sentiment sweeping its way across the rest of the world. Which is a shame, because there are general lessons about the nature of sacrifice, heroism and pride that can apply to anyone in this story.
The big selling point of Alamo: The Comic Book, both for those with no interest in the story and those who don't mind the Texas history lesson, is Espinosa's artwork. His exquisite painted style has really brought to life the Miyazaki-influenced fantasy world of Neotopia, but he does a surprisingly good job on the more grounded, gritty story of The Alamo as well. Sure, the characters are a little more pretty and less rugged than they probably were, but there's a nice attention to period detail and costumes, a terrific sense of scale and some very impressive visuals, including the fortress being defended at night or the shots of the cannons being fired.
