Stumptown vol. 1
I think it’s a good thing that you can randomly pick out a title from Greg Rucka’s comics and find a well-written and developed female lead or supporting character. The thing is that as he has been doing it for so long (“Whiteout,” “Queen & Country,” “Batman/Gotham Central,” “Batwoman,” do I need to keep going?) you start to wonder how he’s going to find a way to differentiate his latest female lead from the rest. With “Stumptown, he finds that angle by simply making private investigator Dex Parios more at peace with herself and her lot in life.
We’re introduced to the P.I. trying to bargain her way out of being shot by two surly thugs before flashing back to seeing her gambling away money that isn’t hers at the local Indian reservation. The two events are connected, though not in the way you think as the casino’s owner has given Dex a job to clear her debts: find the owner’s granddaughter, Sue-Lynne, who has suddenly gone missing. Problem is that the owner isn’t the only one who’s out looking for Sue-Lynne and Dex’s search has her crossing paths with not only one of the most powerful men in Portland, but his troubled offspring who have their own issues with the girl as well.
Much as I liked reading about the exploits of past Rucka leads like Carrie Stetko and Tara Chase, seeing their self-destructive habits gets wearying after a while. Some were too violent, others drank too much, and they seemed to be better at destroying relationships than maintaining them. While Dex has her gambling problem and other money woes to contend with, she doesn’t get angry about it or try to take it out on those around her. Seeing her talk to everyone, there’s a lightness to her approach that could come off as glib, but she never descends to the point of tossing off wisecracks every other line. Dex realizes that she has terrible, terrible luck (as one of the thugs from the opening scene points out later on) and deals with it in her own way. The woman is still a very competent investigator and it’s just one more thing she factors into her approach on a case.
As for the story itself, Rucka is in his element in the crime fiction genre and it’s as well-written as you’d expect. It does become apparent early on that this is isn’t going to be a “whodunit” but more of a “whytheydidit,” yet the characters themselves are fleshed out well enough that it’s really a non-issue. The setting of Portland also feels fresh for this kind of story as it’s not filled with the kind of gritty urban squalor that accompanies so many of the stories in the genre. Artist Matthew Southworth captures the appeal of the city quite well, and tells the story in a clear, straightforward way. His work also compares favorably one of Rucka’s past collaborators, “Whiteout’s” Steve Lieber, even if he lacks the definition present in that man’s work.
So it’s a good story, recommended to not only fans of Rucka’s previous works, but crime fiction in general. If you’re looking to pick it up right now, however, then it’s going to cost you. Cover price is $30 for the oversized hardcover, and the Amazon discount is practically negligible. Personally, I think that’s a bit much for something that’s just a well-done piece of genre fiction. It’s not a story for the ages (like “League of Extraordinary Gentlemen”) or a transcendent example of its genre (see also “All Star Superman,” or “Nextwave: Agents of H.A.T.E.”) or marking a particularly momentous event (such as Stephen King’s first comics work in “American Vampire”). The story is certainly worth picking up if you can, to throw out a COMPLETELY RANDOM example, find it on sale at your local Borders store as it goes out of business. I do feel some guilt about adding this caveat, but the fact remains that its packaging and presentation give the impression that this is a monumental work. Instead, it’s just quite good.