Page 45 Review by Stephen
"My new thing is no more secrets.
"All they do is mess shit up."
Quite right too, and yes they do!
But, oh dear, you're talking to the wrong person, Cleo. You should be talking to -
Sophie Campbell is a master of the emotional rollercoaster ride; her weapon of choice being subtly deployed and stealthily ramped-up dramatic irony. For there is a shadow falling, and only we can see it.
And I'm not just talking about Glen's projectile-vomiting morning-after experience in the cafe which Cleo goes to work in, the even worse, unrelated cleaning-up job that Cleo is confronted with or Audrey's nightmarish babysitting experience.
No, right at the heart of this someone has been seething with the most ferocious, bottled-up anger towards any and all. And not one our cast has a clue.
This fourth volume opens on a much brighter note with what is for some the bonding experience that is softball practice. Even Trilby - previously the most obstinately, wilfully and self-destructively negative of them all - has finally begun to appreciate others and understand the importance of vocalising that admiration and respect.
Meanwhile, there's a con on: a TV-cult-show and comicbook convention. Let the cosplay commence!
Furthermore, let BY CHANCE OF BY PROVIDENCE's Becky Cloonan make a guest appearance, sketching away there! She does! Not just in the background, either: Becky becomes embroiled in a prior, physical dispute.
With each of these new WET MOON editions I've found myself revisiting much missed friends and found my previous reviews deeply inadequate. That's hindsight for you. So it was here, for Campbell was always so far ahead of her comicbook peers not in presenting unique individuals with endearing quirks, understandable foibles and some frustrating flaws, but particularly with beautiful, diverse body forms drawn with relish and lavished with love.
Our ladies on the swamp-side college campus site have had a lot of growing up to do and still more to come, but they are precocious in exploring their sexual identities as fully as they dare, questioning them in private diaries entries and communicating their hopes, fears and doubts to those they trust most.
Some even take to the internet (in relatively closed forums) to the question media proscription when it comes to those body forms and the appalling lack of affirmation (worse still, the actual undermining of pride) when it comes to skin colour.
Campbell is exceptionally astute when it comes to how we can tentatively orbit each other then try as hard as possible to understand each other, over what we might bond: the gives and the takes; or the takes and the takes.
Lastly, I loved Cleo's attempt to resurrect her childhood pee-pal experience, not necessarily going down so well with an adult Mara. Clue: you both sit on a toilet and pee at the same time.
I can't imagine guys doing that. *imagines guys doing that* Umm.... Heh.
In summary, then: so well remembered, so well observed and so very well communicated.
"Visually, I can't think that this creator owes anything to anyone. Nothing out there like this, and highly recommended."
Those are the only two sentences remaining from my original review many moons ago.
Please see equally rewritten recollections of WET MOON volumes one to three for so much more. All in stock, deeply cherished.
