My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Perhaps my expectations were doomed to failure. Perhaps I’m just no fun. Whatever the case may be, the truth is I found myself a little disappointed with a comic book that has garnered so much hype. Hailed by many as one of the greatest comic book series out there, I came to this first volume with high expectations, perhaps because I just can’t resist following the penguins off the cliff.
None other than the somewhat similar disappointing novel “The Stand” by Stephen King, Y: The Last Man details an apocalyptic setting, here presented in the form of every male member of every animal species dying in an instant that is never quite explained. The hook is that one male human and his one male monkey are the sole survivors of the extinction, and find themselves now in the hands of the dreaded women who are now left helpless, because as the statistics in an info dump tell us on page 23, most of the leaders and pilots of the world were men. How liberal minded!
Our hero of this sordid tale is a man who seems just a bit immature, not to mention unlikable. In the opening chapter we discover he has a girlfriend hiking in a skimpy blue bikini in the Australian outback, her breasts shaped like ripe cantaloupes and her waist the size of my index finger. The very premise is one long exploration of the male id on steroid. I couldn’t help but ask myself aloud to the few patrons sitting next to me at the library how such an obviously man child character could have found a girlfriend like this in the first place. Of course, some guys like this seem to nail all the hot chicks, but that seems much more in tune with the world of a film like American Pie than it does what we call the real world.
But I digress. His name I forget and he has a pet monkey, and if that doesn’t clue you into how bored I was, read on and discover how he madly falls in love with the leader of a town full of women convicts, waiting half a day before they kiss and fall madly in love. Of course, the heroin doesn’t last long, getting killed off in the very same chapter by Amazonian lesbians, complete with severed breasts which allow the use of their convent bows, because guns simply don’t exist when men aren’t around.
And while our hero remains devoted to his girlfriend, we must remain confident in his potential for growth, because I expect he’ll eventually have to be the vessel thru which the whole earth is repopulated.
I found myself chuckling, amused, liberated and a feminist, disgusted at this chauvinistic pig, and perhaps, just a little, relieved that Y: The Last Man is indeed the greatest comic book ever written. I know because Stephen King assures us of this himself, his quote gracing the cover of the book.
Go into this book with low expectations, because as I can attest, mine sure as heck weren’t met.
3 stars and a yawn!