I enjoyed the first volume of Man-Eaters, and I looked forward to reading the series monthly. To the surprise of absolutely no one, I fell behind about four months ago. Trade paperback to the rescue! Check out the review for Man-Eaters Volume 2, in comic shops today.
This series isn’t meant to be subtle, and its pro-women anti-society-enforced-gender-conformity-rules message is probably offending some people, but I’d guess that the people most offended by it haven’t actually read it, which is a shame, since they’re the people who really ought to. I’d like to hear from people who’ve read both volumes, and still hate it. (*ducks and covers*)
But seriously, the series is getting tons of praise, but is there anyone out there who believes in rock-solid, traditional gender roles who’s read it? Does this book have any chance of changing minds? It’s a fun book with great art, but in terms of its progressive views (which I agree with) is it just patting itself on the back and preaching to the choir? Not that I think it should do anything differently, I’m just curious about some views from the other side of the argument.
It occurred to me halfway through writing this review (and it’s a little silly that it took me this long) that rather than being targeted at people who agree with its message, or at people who disagree with it so it can change their minds, there’s a third option that’s more likely: it’s for young people who feel they don’t fit in, and it’s trying to let them know that it’s okay to feel that way, that traditional gender roles and rules can be pretty silly when you take them apart. It’s meant to be reassuring, and in that respect I think it’s absolutely a success.
On that note, the series continues to poke fun (harder than a poke, really, more of a stab) at traditional ideas of masculinity and femininity. Every time you turn a corner there’s poster with rules for boys and girls (Boys’ rules: no running or fighting. Girls’ rules: an itemized list of every article of clothing you can’t wear because it’d either be too sexy or not sexy enough.) Or you see ads that reinforce the idea that men who act “too much like women” are undesirable and need to pay lots of money to fix themselves. (I love all the “Estro-pure” product advertisements, protecting boys from the horrible dangers of estrogen. There’s even a version for your dog so you can have a manly pup.)
But in between the satire there’s also a story unfolding. A girl disappeared at school, and a special police force has started a full on manhunt. (Er, womanhunt. Well, pantherhunt.) Meanwhile, Maude and her friends are starting a grass-roots revolution, organized around some mysterious pencils. (What is it with pencils in this town?) And a dad is raising his daughter in a society that’s only marginally more scary than the one we live in now, on a beat-cop’s salary, while his ex-wife gets more and more successful without him.
In issue three things get confusing, due to the point of view switching rapidly back and forth between what’s actually happening in a particular scene, and what Maude is imagining it would look like in a comic book world. There’s a startling reveal, and I had to backtrack a couple pages to see if what I thought had just happened, really happened. It was exciting, if a little confusing.
(Also, if you look at the preview pages below, the conversation between the girls in the bathroom is an over-the-top example of how to pass the Bechdel test, which I thought was hilarious.)
Issue four starts with a series of exercises meant to teach young girls in this world why they should never ever “experiment with menstruation” by not drinking the hormone-infused tap water, because they could turn into panthers and slaughter their whole family. But then it switches to a description of an exercise where men can role-play how women would feel in a situation of harassment or loss.
I feel like, because I agree with the pro-women anti-society-enforced-gender-conformity-rules message, the issues that are one big instruction pamphlet or back-to-back advertisements, they tend to be a little of a let-down. It’s that preaching-to-the-choir thing; I’d like to hear more about what’s happening to Maude and her friends, rather than an entire issue telling me something I already agree with. But, like I said above, if the book is still mainly intended to either change minds or reassure people that it’s okay to feel how they do, then those issues aren’t really meant for me, and that’s fine.
When they’re more spaced out in the story, I love all the incidental elements of these issues; the propaganda-laced ads, the sinister pamphlets and guides, youtube video descriptions, post-it note poetry, and an amazingly well-designed card game that I think would be hilarious to play, as long as everybody’s cool with little splotches of blood on some cards, that you can block with a tampon card. (And lose a turn if someone uses the Corgi card to take the tampon out of play. Ew. And hee.)
The art for the regular parts of the story is still gorgeous. The line-work is good, but the color is amazing. There’s a closeup of Maude’s mom’s face at one point that’s amazingly well done, some lovely gradients that have a painted look to them, and very nicely detailed.
We got left with a cliffhanger in this book, so I’m definitely not waiting four months to see what happens next!
