The first and only comic book artist ever to win a National Book Award returns with a haunting tale of intimacy, guilt, and collective amnesia.
As the sun sets on the 1970s, the spirit of the Love Generation still lingers among the aging hippies of one "intentional community" high in the Ozarks. But what's missing?
Under impossibly close scrutiny, two families wrestle with long-repressed secrets... while deep within those Arkansas hills, something monstrous stirs, ready to feast on village whispers.
Nate Powell, artist of the National Book Award-winning March trilogy returns with a new creator-owned graphic novel.
Nathan Lee Powell is an American cartoonist and musician. Born in 1978 in Little Rock, Arkansas, Nate spent his childhood in different parts of the country, as his family moved around following his father's duties as an Air Force officer. Powell became active in the punk rock scene since his teen age. He ended up performing in several bands over the years, and even owing a DIY punk record label. At the same time, he developed an interest in visual arts and majored in Cartooning at the School of Visual Arts (SVA) in New York. For about ten years Powell worked as a care giver for adult with developmental disabilities, while also drawing comic books. His major break came with the graphic novel Swallow Me Whole, which won the Ignatz Award for Outstanding Debut and Outstanding Artist in 2008, as well as the Eisner Award for Best Original Graphic Novel in 2009. Between 2013 and 2016 Nate Powell released what remains his most famous work, the three volumes of March, a comic biography of civil rights activist and Congressman John Lewis.
"In a community like this, we are each other's business."
Nate Powell is the only comics artist that has ever won a National Book Award, for his illustration work on Sen. John Lewis’s story of his experiences with the civil rights movement in the sixties, March, adapted by Andrew Aydin, spanning three books. That and 2008's Eisner Award-winning Swallow Me Whole, are some of my favorite graphic works. The latter is one of a group of more personal works that—like Jeff Lemire’s work—focus on the struggles of a young boy growing up, dealing with darkly complicated issues.
The story is not a March social justice epic, but a smaller, more personal tale of a woman, Haluska, or Hal, who lives in a small Ozarks “intentional” community, co-parenting Jake, with her ex, Gus. Jake is not the focus of the story, but he is important, always there. He's Powell, growing up, in many ways, likely. Hal is having an affair with Adrian, or Ade, who is married to her close friend, and it has been going on for years. They meet for sex in a cave where, as it turns out, some kids also go, and where some fantastical force or creature exists, and where Ade’s son is lost for some time.
Powell’s previous works, Swallow Me Whole, Any Empire, and Sounds of Your Name, bear some resemblance to Come Again. Some aspects of all these works deal with personal isolation and the need for community/family. Nostalgia for the past, and yet regret, sorrow. Black and white, scratchy pen and ink, often without panels, the work gives a sense of the emotional possibilities of using the whole page, as a canvas where images do most of the communicating, work like Craig Thompson’s Blankets and Jillian Tamaki’s work in This One Summer. Which is to say Come Again is sort of oblique, hard to follow in places, requiring a bit of work in reading the images, feeling like poetic stream-of-consciousness, open. People talk like real people talk, not as in Henry James. They mumble, their voices trail off, and the lettering reflects that. Some pages are almost all inky black with white lettering. The feeling is often bleak, intensely reflective.
The focus of the story is not about the hippie community, which is almost dwindled out, but on these secrets that might exist in any community, that seem connected to this mountain monster. The links between all these things are not always clearly defined, it’s sort of poetic (or maddeningly vague, if you like your stories clear and precise). The struggle between the dark and light has a visual component here, in keeping with the secrecy, and damage, and guilt.
Powell says this is his favorite work so far, but I don’t think it will be his readers’ favorite, though I do like it a lot, to the extent I understand it after just one reading. It feels bleak, we don’t get deep connections or feel much empathy for the characters who exist in these claustrophobic spaces, caves. Feels a little Calvinist in its exploration of secrecy and guilt. That's not a joyful affair Hal and Ade have. Feels like the end of The Age of Aquarius, most of those hippie ideals. People don't talk about the issues they have with each other, and yet in the end, we seem to move to some light, some understanding.
What may be one key to understanding this book is that Powell dedicates this book to Ursula K. Le Guin, so the dark fantasy aspects make more sense.
Powell’s book is technically awesome and has me brooding about it, and I will read it again and try to figure out more of what it is about, but this dark Ozark cave monster fantasy tale is fascinating. Because Powell is a lifelong punk musician, I like, too, the way he--as he always does—weaves music through his story. Like Lemire, I think he imagines us listening to a mix tape as we read. I’ll read this again. Like Lemire, he’s a great artist, struggling to figure out how to tell a comics tale about growing up in a small isolated town.
I have NO idea what was going on here. I'm not being willfully obtuse I promise. I sincerely don't know what I was meant to take away from this beautifully drawn incomprehensible story.
It's the 70's and whatever is going on here takes place at a dying hippy commune where a woman named Hal is raising her zany little boy as a single mom. Everyone has secrets and is up in everyone else's business. Everything is very groovy and also kind of sad because the "free love" movement is dying or something? There's also maybe some sort of a thing in a cave that eats people?
I don't know if this was supernatural, if the the whole thing was a dream or an acid flashback or some kind of commentary on the 70's but while it was just as gorgeous to look at as I'd expect from Nate Powell the total lack of a coherent narrative totally killed this one for me.
Once again, Nate Powell provides a moving and free-flowing story that is part and parcel of his art style. Just as his illustrative work seems to just flow rhythmically across the page, so does his storytelling have the same kind of nature. It moves like a wisp, flowing from one "panel" to the next in dreamlike manner. This is another work that I'm going to have to reread, multiple times, to appreciate more fully.
Story: Confusing. This is what I think happened. Haluska (Hal) has a son with Gus, with whom she no longer lives. Hal's friends live nearby and they have a son Shane. Hal's also been having an affair with Adrian (Ade), who is also Shane's father, for years, meeting up in a cave. One day Shane gets trapped in the cave when he and Jake are hanging out. Everyone starts to look for Shane, and then,..., they don't remember Shane. This gives the story a horror/fantasy feel. After failing to get anyone interested in Shane, including his parents, Hal decides to look for the boy.
Artwork: I liked this a lot, though sometimes Powell's images made it hard to understand what was going on in the story. I did love how he had the characters speak, and how he drew mumbling, rushed sentences, and other things people do when they speak. There was also a lot of black, which made it hard sometimes to decipher moments. I liked how the images often had a lot of movement and sometimes even looked beautiful.
Because I'm left puzzled by this story, I'm giving it 3'stars.
I read Powell before, his too optimistic for me call to arms that was Save it for Later. Though apparently later I forgot all about it and only was reminded by the author’s bio. Which is to say I picked up this book at the library strictly by cover appeal, which is always a bit of a crapshoot. Anyway, it didn’t turn out crappy, which is nice. But then again, it didn’t wow either. The art was interesting, conceptually. Lots of creative panel layouts, lots of uses of darkness and shadows for atmosphere. Well rendered scenery, though portraiture itself didn’t do much for me. The story is the thing that didn’t really work for me. Atmospheric, again, there’s lots of atmosphere, but muddled. Stretched out for dramatic effect and much too vague. A story set in a commune in the 70s with people hiding secrets in the woods should be more exciting, right? Instead, it was solidly and messily just ok. But did have the decency to read quickly.
I love Nate Powell’s work but this story was too difficult to unpack for me. Everything revolves around a hippy commune in the 70s but there’s the element of a mysterious and mystical Hobbit cave that only serves, in my opinion, to confuse the story.
If there was a deeper meaning or symbolism to the cave then I missed it although the book is dedicated to Ursula K LeGuin so perhaps I’ve misread this book entirely as it deserves an appreciation within the Fantasy genre. That would explain the cave and it would explain my inability to comprehend the cave parts due to my inexperience with that genre. Regardless, the art was outstanding as always and I’ll probably let this one sit with me and reread at some point.
I've been watching a lot of esoteric horror films in recent months, and this comic seems to be an extension of the kind of open-ended storytelling found in "The Endless," "Enemy," or "Hereditary." And like those films, there were elements of this book I found stunning and thought-provoking, and those I was just confused by. I'm glad there are some other reviewers here who also seemed flummoxed by the storyline.
Yeahhhhh I didn’t enjoy this. I ~think~ I dig out what it was trying to go for, but ultimately this just fell completely flat for me, which sucks because I love one certain aspect of the story.
If you like some nice, cool art, this has that. But also there’s either a lack of clarity in some panels or a need for more panels. I’m not sure which.
Mostly I just thought this was a narrative and structural mess with uninteresting characters and a few rote ideas that maybe could’ve worked if given more time to breathe.
I also thought a good chunk of the narration suffered from feeling a bit juvenile Tumblr poetry-ish. Maybe that’s too harsh, but, yeah, it was definitely giving fake deep sometimes.
I have read a couple of graphic novels that Nate Powell did the artwork on, and given that one of those was the stupendous “March” Trilogy I hold him in high regard. I first heard about his new graphic novel, “Come Again”, at work, when a coworker had requested it and couldn’t remember why. When she told me what it was about and who wrote it, I requested it myself. Not only was I interested in a supernatural story that takes place on a commune in the fading days of communes, I was also curious to see what Nate Powell would do as a writer as well as an illustrator.
“Come Again” has a number of themes that it addresses, and some of these themes work better than others. I will start with the aspects that I liked, because I liked them a lot. Our main character, Haluska, has lived in an Ozark based ‘intentional community’ (or as some laymen may call it, a commune) with her close friends and son Jake for the greater part of the 1970s. The idealistic 1960s are long over, though when Hal, her ex Gus, and their friends Adrian and Whitney first started living there it was 1971, and the world seemed filled with possibility. Now we are at the end of the decade, and though the community remains it has shrunk considerably, and Hal has been carrying on an affair with Adrian that is based in an underground cave they found in the forest. Their affair doesn’t seem to have much joy or passion to it, though neither seem willing to give it up, even though they have to take it literally underground. Haluska certainly feels guilt, but not enough to end it, and her attachment to a comfortable relationship that may not be what it used to be resonates within the greater storyline. The ideals of the Love movement, and the commune itself, are fading away, and with that change comes uncertainty and the impulse to cling harder to something that may not be there anymore. There was a moment that I found to be quite powerful, when Hal and Adrian go into town to sell goods at a farmer’s market. Their somewhat strained relationship with the ‘traditional’ town has been buoyed by the give and take system they have with each other. But on this specific day, a local band has been booked to perform. They happen to be a punk band, and their angry song of rebellion angers the townsfolk, but connects with Hal in ways she may not totally understand in that moment. Knowing that the 80s are coming, and the cynical and predatory social changes that are in store, it feels like a greater reflection of what’s to come, though Hal may not know it. These aspects of this book, of isolation, and guilt, and the secrets we keep from even the ones we love most, worked supremely well for me.
It was the dark fantasy and supernatural elements that fell a bit flat. There is something living in the cave that Hal and Adrian use, a disembodied voice that sinks into the various pages. After Hal’s son Justin and Adrian’s son Shane find the cave, Shane is lost within the depths, depths that may not be there all the time. This, of course, helps feed into Hal’s guilt about her affair with his father, but then it becomes clear that something supernatural is going on that only Hal can see. While I usually really like strange supernatural elements (and am enough of a ghoul that missing people is a theme that I like), I didn’t feel that this part of the book was as strong as it could have been. We don’t know what it is that is living in this cave, we don’t know why the spell it casts manifests in the way that it does, and as we see the consequences of the disappearance and spell start to unfold, we don’t really get answers as to why or how it’s happening. I understand that ambiguity is a key component of a story like this, and I can appreciate it to a point, but in this story I was left more confused than anything else. It ultimately leads to a sacrifice that Hal has to make, and though I understood the resonance of the sacrifice it also felt a bit like a cop out when it came to her having to own up to some of her past mistakes (and the mistakes that others have made as well). I think if the story had leaned in more to the magical or supernatural system I would have liked that part more, but it could have easily functioned as a historical fiction meditation on self, secrets, and guilt.
But Nate Powell’s style is still very unique and stands out in my mind. I liked seeing how he used shades, shadows, and a semi-realistic stylization to tell this story. I especially liked how the disembodied voice of the monster/whatever was written, in ways that made it seem like it was literally floating on the wind.
“Come Again” was a book that didn’t quite give me what I want from the premise and author. It certainly had strong moments, but overall it didn’t have to ghostly oomph I expected.
I really love the art style, as well as the way that it doesn't adhere to conventional panels or squares or bubbles for writing.
It was a bit confusing as to what the author was trying to say at times, because the poetry of it was topsy-turvy in a confusing but we'll mind-bending way.
Plus, the mum was cool. And the punk band that said they weren't punk asked her if she liked Patti Smith just because of her half-shaved haircut. And Adrian looks like David Eugene Edwards with Colin Greenwood's face.
This was a strange one. I'm not sure that I truly understood what the story was trying to tell and as pretty as the art was, most of it was dark (as in hard to see) and characters were hard to tell apart, especially the two main women and the two main kids.
At this point in his prolific career (seriously, I think only Jeff Lemire works anywhere near as hard), I think it’s safe to say that I’m going to love any book by Nate Powell. There’s no one making work quite like his: exquisitely drawn, earnest, poetically stream-of-consciousness, nostalgic, and open, in every sense of the word. Of course his latest graphic novel, “Come Again,” is no different. Nate Powell is incapable of making anything less than an inscrutable masterpiece.
“Come Again” is Powell’s return to personal storytelling, after his acclaimed three-volume civil rights epic, “MARCH,” with Congressman John Lewis and his aide, Andrew Aydin, and a comic adaptation of Rick Riordan’s “The Lost Hero.” It tells the story of Haluska, a young mother living on a hippy-ish commune in the Ozarks, a seemingly idyllic place that harbors secrets both intimate and supernatural. Much like his work in “Swallow Me Whole” and “Any Empire” (both flawless comics in their own right), “Come Again” follows its own dreamy logic that encompasses forbidden love, punk music, morality, nature, and the metaphysical. Powell’s books are absorbed by your eyes and your brain but they’re read by your soul. If that sounds melodramatic or hyperbolic, that’s only because I don’t think it can be understated how artistic and uncompromising Powell’s comics are; it’s shocking and wonderful that he’s achieved such mainstream success.
I met Nate Powell for the first time at TCAF last year and he’s just as kind and thoughtful as I’d hoped. At the time, he was toting around his original pages for what would eventually become “Come Again” and he actually offered to let me take a peek. I was with my sons so I didn’t have the time to flip through his work which, until I got this book in my hands, I absolutely regretted not taking him up on his offer. But, as incredible as it would’ve been to see “Come Again” in progress, I’m glad that reading it in its entirety as a finished book was my first exposure to the story. This is the way it was meant to be experienced and, in typical Nate Powell fashion, it weaves a hypnotic spell.
Trochu me prekvapuje nizky hodnoceni tady na GR, ale kdyz se clovek podiva na ty recenze, tak uvidi, ze lidi davaj 2*, protoze “to nepochopili”.
Come Again neni uplne oddechovy cteni nekam k vode, ale je to vec, ktera ve vas jeste chvili po precteni rezonuje a nuti vas nad ni premejslet.
Premisa pribehu, kterej se odehrava v 70. letech v oblasti Ozarks v Arkansasu, je celkem jednoducha. Mame tu hippie sobestacnou komunitu, ktera zije stranou od civilizace a ustredni postavu szira tajemstvi.
Vizualni zpracovani je naprosto super, dve casovy linie jsou od sebe oddeleny ruznym barevnym ladeni a snovy pasaze jsou taky povedeny.
Nate Powell je popravu mnohonasobne ocenovany autor a kreslir a k Come Again musi clovek pristupovat jako ke graficke novele, ne americkemu komiksu. Rozhodne doporucuju, je to silnej zazitek :).
Honestly, this was downright weird and hard to follow. Major characters were drawn very similarly. There was no “as you know Bob” to the extent I didn’t understand what was happening. There were flashback scenes that transitioned into present-day unclearly. There was an element of creepy in a good way, and I think this is really a 1.5 star read, but that’s not an option. Maybe if you’re more of a visual learner you’d like it more? Would not recommend this one unless you’re great at deciding graphic novels and supernatural subtext. Too much hinting, not enough story.
2.5 This would have been more effective at half the page length. The story just rambles on with useless characters and scenes that didn't add anything to the core story(The proto-punk band at the outdoor market). The thing in the cave that feeds off secrets can also eats memories of entire people and cause them to vanish? Or not, if the plot calls for it. Powell's a skilled artist but as a storyteller he needs a tighter editor.
Set in the Arkansas hills, this graphic novel deals with community, hippies, childhood, and more. Although the author/artist is much praised for his creativity and his works, I felt this story provided more flare than substance.
Big ups to this book for how perfectly asthetic and atmospheric the art is. However the weirdness did not add to the storyline. It only seemed to get in it’s way and make it longer for no real reason. Characters weren’t especially compelling, even in their illicit love affair. 🖤
Randomly at work one day one of the people at the branch I was at got COME AGAIN by Nate Powell on the hold shelf for herself. She didn't remember requesting it, and wondered why she did, but when I read the description I thought that it sounded interesting. Interesting enough that I decided to request it.
In the planned commune in the Ozarks, set in the 1970s, a woman named Haluska lives with her son. She has lived on this commune for a few years now and has seen it rise to prominence and then start to fade away. Her close friends are still there, as is her ex, but she's having a secret affair with the husband of her best friend. They steal away to a cave in the woods, it's presence a mystery but providing for the privacy they need. But when the son of her close friend disappears, and the cave may be the the answer, Haluska has to face her past, her misdeeds, and a potential sacrifice.
Nate Powell may be most known for his work on the MARCH series, but in COME AGAIN he has branched out into his own world of darkness, mythos, and the examination of human nature. The setting and time was a really interesting choice, as the idealism of the 1960s has long passed and the cynicism has begun to set in. I enjoyed seeing Haluska have to come to terms with the life that she's ended up in, and try to justify choices she has made up until this point. The supernatural aspects are definitely creepy, but they kind of devolve into an ultimate solution that I wasn't as into, narrative wise. It made it so that while there were some sacrifices to be made, it also enabled others to avoid consequences of their actions. For me the most effective moment was when Haluska has gone into town for the farmer's market and interacts with the more conventional members of society. There was a really compelling moment where a new punk band has set up on stage, and it's performance tears the afternoon asunder, angering the locals, but hinting at social upheaval that the next decade has coming. To me these moments were the stronger moments, and when the supernatural aspects don't grab me as much, I leave disappointed.
I liked a number of things about COME AGAIN, but I think that it could have been better. That said, I'm glad that Powell's ambitions are encouraging him to experiment within the genre.
Three stars for story, four for art. I felt like I was always on the edge of understanding what was happening. With a few tweaks I think the ending could have been utterly and effectively devastating, but I saw it as more an out for the protagonist than anything else. I appreciate the palpable tension between when the boy gets lost and people start to forget him and the woman starts to forget him...that part was great. But it didn't quite all come together for me. The art, in particular the layouts, are absolutely stunning. Practically and aesthetically effective. Skillful.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The storytelling, in the sense of the combined effect of words and art, was muddled and muddy, although the character designs were sweet. Kind of like somebody stomped all over classic Garry Trudeau pages and I was trying to read them in a dream. That sounds cool, but it was a mess that left me with one of those annoying half-headaches.
First time reading Nate Powell’s fiction. Parts of this were SO strong: layout, layering of music, coloring, the way dialogue is presented, style. However there feels like a huge piece is missing, is there a supernatural force at work, is there a weakness in our human nature? What was the other part of the message? Are secrets a form of self inflicted poison that might also hurt others?!
This delivered for me in a way Powell’s other books like Swallow Me Whole have not. The artwork is amazing and he covers the uncanny in a believable yet dreamlike way. Recommended for fans of Lemire’s Royal City or The Underwater Welder.
Powell is always fantastic. There were spots here where I didn't 100% understand what was going on (but then the characters didn't either, so that was fine). It's odd, creepy, a tiny bit spooky, loose and full of weight and ache.
This was actually pretty good. It’s the story of a secret with a tiny supernatural element, maybe it could have been longer but all in all I sympathised with the characters and found the story compelling even though a bit oscure at times. Also the art style was amazing and I can’t stop rifling through the pages to look at it
Yeah…this cover snatched my attention but Come Again was a miss for me. I was digging the art and even the ominous, isolated pages with very little text and all mood. But that’s about it. This one flew over my head, I guess, because I’m just confused.