101-2.11: Sweet Tooth, Volume 2 "In Captivity" and Volume 3 "Animal Armies," by Jeff Lemire (trade paperbacks, issues 6-11 and 12-17, 2010/11)

 The other day when we were talking about the "value" of different leisure activities--watching TV, reading, playing Xbox, crafts, etc.--my husband Eddie made a disparaging comment about Sweet Tooth. I was a bit offended at first and asked him what he knew about it. He said he had picked up and flipped through one of my trades when it was sitting on the coffee table at my sister's house. It isn't real literature, he suggested, and I suppose he is right to some extent. It's not the type of thing I would likely read in public--unless that public involved a high number of comic readers--so even I must confess to a degree of speculation. The cover pictures themselves likely lead some of you to raise an eyebrow. A boy with antlers? A girl with a pig snout? Yet, here I am writing about the series on my blog, so I'm not THAT embarrassed.

While I wouldn't be willing to take a side defending Sweet Tooth as a great work of literature, it has some significant merits that put it solidly in the literature realm. The plot is interesting and engaging, the characters are complex, and it addresses societal issues in the guise of metaphor. You see, it's not just that these kids have animal features: some folks don't believe they exist; others know and fear them; and still others--the minority--know and love them. It's mainly the parents of the hybrids that fall into the later category, as the women gave birth to these humans with animal characteristics after a plague struck the U.S.--killing the majority of people and sending things into complete disarray in a short period of time. Unfortunately, that same plague usually kills the parents before too long, leaving the kids alone and defenseless against those fighting for survival. From the very start, the antlered Sweet Tooth--so called for his love of candy--is a sympathetic and endearing character; perhaps it's some built-in Bambi reaction, but I want him to make it. It's an up and down struggle, of course, in the world drawn in these books, and I'm sure the battle will continue throughout the series. Along the way, the premise allows for an exploration of bigotry and fear, what it means to be human, and good versus evil (and shades in between). And, Lemire's story and art are both strong enough for me to continue that exploration--despite a shade of embarrassment.