Tuesday, February 10, 2026

Black Metal Mayhem in The Creeping Below

 The Creeping Below 

by Brian Azzarello, art by Vanesa Del Rey, color by Hilary Jenkins


Author Brian Azzarello
Artist Vanesa Del Rey
Colorist Hilary Jenkins


Big thanks to Boom! Studios and NetGalley for providing an advanced copy of The Creeping Below, a Norwegian black metal, folk-horror revenge tale that was eerie, gory, and imaginative. I learned about this after reading a review for another recent Norwegian black metal comic, the humorous and entertaining Dark Regards by Dave Hill. In contrast, The Creeping Below is much darker and ominous, telling the story of Val, an American photographer visiting Norway for a metal festival. Throughout these issues, there are instances of metal lyrics, and I have to say that they seemed realistic. As I was reading along, I could imagine the blast beats pumping while guttural growls groaned out these bleak lyrics. Val visits a bar and quickly befriends a band who take her out to the forests of Norway to show her some of the darkest, bleakest spots that Norway has to offer. However, unknown to Val, she is the sacrificial offering to the band’s dark gods that will propel them to success. She’s drugged, beaten, and tied up as an offering to the old gods, left to wither and rot in the forest.

However, something dark awakens her seven years later, and she arises, craggy and mossy, seeking revenge for her abandonment. Vanesa Del Rey’s artwork, especially in the forest as Val is left for dead and then as she awakens is incredible. The dark colors and blending of human and plant life creates a dark, foreboding, almost ancient and folk-horror like scene that pervades over the rest of the story. I won’t get into the story as Val seeks revenge from the band members, but it’s a really cool revenge story with horror elements. The artwork is impressive- both scary and haunting. I only wish there was more to the story, especially more explanation about how and why Val was awakened, and what her connection to the old gods of the forest was. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed this collection of 4 issues. It was a quick read, but it was also entertaining for a more serious horror comic. Sometimes these horror stories can be a little lighter or feature more comedy, but this one was filled with terror and shock- a great combination of several dark genres. Highly recommended!


















Exploring the Mystical World of Fairylore

 Fairylore: A Compendium of the Fae Folk 

by Dr. Brittany Warman and Dr. Sara Cleto

Fairylore book cover

Authors and scholars Dr. Brittany Warman and Dr. Sara Cleto

Big thanks to Union Sware & Co., Sterling Publishing, and NetGalley for sharing their new incredible collection Fairylore: A Compendium of the Fae Folk by Dr. Brittany Warman and Dr. Sara Cleto. It’s kind of fortuitous that I was able to find this book since I just read Donald Quill’s Living the Irish Wheel of the Year, in which he references sidhes, who are like a form of fairies and magical beings in Irish folklore. I imagined that this book would be more focused on Celtic folklore from Ireland, Scotland and Wales, but I was amazed to find that this is a fairly (or fairy?) comprehensive compendium that incorporates folklore figures from various cultures from around the world. While I’ve never been too interested in fairies, I love mythological creatures and cryptids, and the organization of this book allows for the inclusion of creatures and figures that interact with the human world in interesting and unique ways. I actually love this kind of compendium that presents background stories and information about creatures, their strengths and interests in humans, and that is what this book is—a collection of interesting creatures, organized according to how they interact with the human world.

The authors, who are scholars of folklore, present some useful information about what fairies are and how they differ from other creatures, especially those of legends and mythology. Furthermore, they posit 5 different ideas that help to further classify and differentiate fairies from these other creatures. I loved the way the authors presented their rubric for inclusion into fairy classification. It’s an insightful presentation and it helps them also organize the 5 categories they’ve used to organize fairies: Home, Seduction, Terror (my favorite), Nature, and Neighbors. Furthermore, these ideas about how to classify fairies and how they interact with the human world also help to further their thesis that fairies end up revealing a lot about culture, beliefs, and philosophies. These kinds of stories about fairies serve as a way to explain events and phenomena that are typically beyond knowledge, a way to maintain harmony in society by explaining deviant behavior or avoiding blame of others, and also as a means of social control, to indicate what behaviors, actions and beliefs are approved for society and which ones are forbidden or punished. We still may use stories to highlight these beliefs and values today, but often they involve more realism and less magic, so it’s interesting to see how folklore incorporates these kinds of fantastic elements into their stories to serve as methods of instruction and passing down cultural values and beliefs to different generations.

Throughout the book, Dr. Warman and Dr. Cleto identify fairies from around the world, presenting references from both folklore and scholarly work that identifies stories, examples, or explanations of these fairies.  I felt like this was one of the many strengths of the book. It features fairy stories from expected cultures like those of Ireland, Wales, and Scotland, but also includes instances of fairies from other cultures and regions including the Apache, the Inca, South Africa, Newfoundland, Japan, China, Korea, and Australia. Furthermore, in their commentary and analysis of these fairies, the authors raise questions about whether some of these fairies existed prior to colonial contact, or whether they possible served as a means to explore colonialism and the encroaching loss of indigenous ways. In addition, they note that many of the first recorded instances of these fairies rely on translations, which may or may not be completely accurate or represent the full understanding of the fairies. It’s an important consideration, and I appreciate their ability to raise questions about sources and cultural interpretations and understandings of these fairies. In fact, this was one of those rare books where I couldn’t wait to peruse the bibliography to see how accessible some of their sources are. While they primarily rely on a few sources that are mentioned throughout the book (Briggs, Purkiss), it seems like Dr. Warman and Dr. Cleto consulted a wide array of different sources that were available to them to create a diverse and inclusive compendium of fairies and other creatures. In addition, the authors included a folklore tale at the end of each section that exemplifies or provides an instance of a fairy mentioned in the section. This was also really cool to read the specific references from their sources, since it provides a clear example and shows how the fairies interact. Furthermore, the authors explain how different modes of storytelling (first person accounts, re-tellings, and third-person accounts) all reflect different ways of conveying elements of the culture.

This is a great reference book to have, and I imagine using it both in the classroom and with my kids. It’s also a great starting point to learn more about these fascinating creatures to further understand their relationship with humans and as a means of explaining cultural beliefs, values, and events. As the authors mentioned in the conclusion, fairies have been a part of art, literature, and culture for nearly 500 years with references in Chaucer and Shakespeare, and more recently in Disney films, anime, and even horror films. I was surprised to find references to certain creatures like banshees, oni, and kitsune, but also excited to learn about so many more creatures that appear in different cultures throughout the world. I also have to mention that the illustrations in this book are another fantastic aspect of the book. Most of the fairies have incredible illustrations that help readers better understand conceptions of these fae folk. This is a great book to read and revisit if you are interested in folklore, culture, and creatures. The entries are brief and succinct, giving readers an insightful understanding of these creatures, how they interact with humans, and the possible morals, values, and behaviors they convey to people. This is a book that I would share with my kids, a classroom, or even just read for my own enjoyment. It’s a wonderful compendium where readers are guaranteed to learn a lot. Highly recommended! 

Mooseleute, Germany

Yunwitsundi, Cherokee

Muki, Andes Mountains, South America
Oni, Japan
Veli, Fiji
Konderong, Gambia and Senegal
Taiparu, Cook Islands
Dullahan, Ireland
Alux, Mexico
Tengu, Japan
Melusine, France
Moksin Tongbop, Korea
Saci Perere, Brazil






























Monday, February 9, 2026

Apocalyptic Thinking Then and Now: End of Days by Chris Jennings

 End of Days: Ruby Ridge, the Apocalypse, and the Unmaking of America by Chris Jennings

End of Days book cover


Big thanks to Little Brown and Company and NetGalley for making Chris Jennings’ stunning new book End of Days: Ruby Ridge, the Apocalypse, and the Unmaking of America, which focuses on millenarianism, apocalyptic Christianity, and one of the infamous instances when this thinking came to erupt in a family’s isolated cabin the woods in Idaho. Even the name Ruby Ridge has connotations of government overreach, violence, and tragedy, and this was one of the first instances of this kind of clash between white Christian nationalists and the government in a decade that was marked by events like the Unabomber (although not Christian, he displayed antagonism towards the government), the Olympic bombing, Waco and the Branch Davidians, and the Oklahoma City bombing. This doesn’t include other instances of apocalyptic religions like Heaven’s Gate, who ultimately took their own lives, and the Japanese cult Aum Shirnyko, whose goal of hastening the apocalypse resulted in numerous deaths in the Tokyo subway. Jennings’ book examines the American context of this kind of apocalyptic thinking, and specifically how American Christian religions looked at The Book of Revelations, the last book of the Bible, as a literal text of prophecy rather than examining the historical context of this book to understand how it served as an allegorical rendering that was critical of the Roman Empire, a brutal regime that was violently eliminating Christians. While I’ve read other instances of Ruby Ridge, none of them went this in depth. Furthermore, with Jennings providing more context about the development of this kind of apocalyptic Christianity, it created a far deeper understanding of how the Weavers and many of their sympathizers thought about the government and events like the Gulf War that might have portended signs of the coming end of days. Jennings’ book is both fascinating and tragic, yet it is also prophetic, not in the biblical sense, but in the socio-political sense as we see how the Weavers’ millenarianism, which was somewhat isolated to the Midwest and Northwest and to Christian Identity groups, has gradually become more mainstream and aligned itself more with conservative politics. While Jennings’ doesn’t spend much of the book identifying modern causes and reasons for the proliferation of this kind of apocalyptic thinking, we can see how many different factors, especially popular media that is not always accurate or in good faith can propel wild and disparate beliefs to a larger group of seekers and people with questions. That’s one of the aspects I found so compelling about this book. However, learning more about both millenarianism, this apocalyptic strain of Christianity, and how it mutated into a shared system with Christian Identity and White Identity groups also made this book and important and engaging read. Jennings’ detailed research into the Weavers’ family and lives presents an even-handed view of the Ruby Ridge accident, which could have been avoided if either Randy Weaver or the US government had done more to work to a resolution.

This book is organized into 3 parts that outline the early lives of the Weavers, like how they met after high school, their marriage, and the deepening of their Christian faith in the 1970s post-Vietnam era. However, Part 1 also delves into the development of the millenarianism, the belief that the second coming of Christ will transform the world into 1000 years of paradise but will be preceded by a kind of battle with evil. I really appreciated how Jennings traced the history of the apocalypse from John of Patmos’s writings in Revelations to the American Christian groups that adopted this kind of thinking by interpreting these writings literally. While I knew about some of this thinking, it was fascinating to see how these groups adopted this text as a literal explanation for end times. I found Jennings’ ability to explain this change in a few chapters to be well done. It’s a challenge to make these kinds of theological ideas and philosophies comprehensible and relatable, but these chapters do a great deal to help understand this kind of thinking and how it progressed within different groups in America. Furthermore, readers can see how events, politics, and challenges in life might make some groups more susceptible to this kind of apocalyptic thinking. That’s where the Weavers’ story occurs. While it seems like the family had some opportunities to access the American dream, we also see how Vicki Weaver’s interest in literature like The Late Great Planet Earth, a popular book that claimed to prophesize the end of the world in the 1970s, altered her view about society and the world. Drawing parallels between this form of 1970s popular analog media and more recent digital versions of the apocalyptic predictions like Q-Anon, Jennigs’ identifies how beliefs and adherence to these kinds of conspiracies can lead to action. For the Weavers, this included sharing their beliefs and concerns with others, which gradually ostracized them from their Iowa community, leading them to relocate to the isolated mountains of Idaho.

Part 2 of the book picks up when the family decides to leave to build their own home in Idaho. Furthermore, Jennings details connections that Randy established with white Christian nationalist groups like the Covenant, The Sword and the Arm of the Lord and Richard Butler’s Aryan Nations compound. I wasn’t aware of how close Randy Weaver was to some of these organizations, especially since this was around the time that the Order was terrorizing the North and Midwest. While Randy probably didn’t have direct contact with members of the Order, it does seem like he shared their views and possessed some Aryan Nations memorabilia. Vicki, meanwhile, seemed to take her beliefs further into the Old Testament, keeping traditional Jewish holidays, but with Christian names. It’s strange that the family would align their beliefs with this system, especially since they adopted an antisemitic view of the world. However, that is what Jennings notes about this millenarianism belief—that it adheres to conspiracies that ultimately complicate their beliefs, enabling believers to adopt even stranger, more complex rationales rather than accepting the most reasonable explanation. Although the family built their own home and maintained the land surrounding the home, it seemed like Randy continued to have trouble getting along with others. Throughout the book, we learn about the various friendships or acquaintances who eventually burned bridges with Randy. In particular there are several instances of trouble with neighbors that eventually lead the Secret Service to visit Randy for a threat to President Reagan that was probably sent by one of these scorned neighbors. Nevertheless, Jennings’ detailed research and reporting shows that Randy Weaver wasn’t an easy person to get along with, repeatedly made enemies and took advantage of those who trusted him, and seemed to have problems with authority.

Part 3 of the book details the events that led to the standoff between the Weavers and the federal government. Again, Jennings’ even-handed reporting and documentation of this event helps to show that the US government also made considerable errors in pursuing a case against Randy Weaver and tried to flip him to learn more about the rising threat of white supremacist groups in Idaho. However, they did this through entrapment and didn’t really understand the nature of the Weavers’ beliefs in the apocalypse, mistakes that would end up being repeated a year later in Waco, TX and cited as evidence of the threat the US government posed to convicted terrorist Timothy McVeigh. Nevertheless, the Weavers had multiple friends and family members who pled with them to surrender and allow the siege to end, yet their apocalyptic beliefs showed that these events were signals for the end of the world. To complicate matters even more, the government wasn’t aware that they killed Sam and Vicki Weaver, Randy’s son and wife, over the course of the siege, and seemingly to enforce low-level charges that would have probably netted Randy probation rather than jail time. Jennings does note that there were oddities with the warrant and court appearance documentation for Randy, which further heightened the family’s suspicions of a government conspiracy, but we also see how this kind of conspiratorial and apocalyptic thinking led the family to fight to the death, assuming that the end of the world was coming. I couldn’t put this book down, especially after the Weavers left for Idaho. I remember when this happened, watching it play out on television, but I didn’t know the finer details. In fact, I think that many people didn’t know many of the details, as Randy became a somewhat sympathetic figure who had a television movie made about the siege. There was also a congressional investigation in 1995, and I’m not sure how much that changed the perception of Randy Weaver, but Jennings’ book does a lot to identify how both the Weavers and the government made incredibly costly, fatal mistakes in this event. End of Days is an important and compelling book, especially for those interested in learning more about the rise of extremism in the 80s and how it continues to fester and infect the country today. Furthermore, Jennings’ reporting leaves readers to draw their own conclusions about the kind of modern analogies between the Weavers’ apocalyptic beliefs, the popular media of the 70s and 80s that helped fuel this kind of thinking, and more recent forms that have sought to take advantage of willing adherents- people looking for answers or solutions to problems, and compelling them to action. With recent events like COVID, terrorist attacks, or the January 6th siege of the Capitol, readers are able to identify the ways that people often find conspiracies or signs of the apocalypse and take drastic action. This is an amazing and important book that I highly recommend!  






Tuesday, February 3, 2026

Living the Irish Wheel of the Year by Donald Quill

 Living the Irish Wheel of the Year: A Guide for Practicing Pagans by Donald Quill

Living the Irish Wheel of the Year book cover
Author Donald Quill

Many thanks to Forgotten Rites Publishing and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Donald Quill’s thoughtful book Living the Irish Wheel of the Year: A Guide for Practicing Pagans. I’m not a practicing pagan, but I found the title eye-catching. I am of Irish ancestry, and I loved reading about Irish mythology, history, and culture, so I was intrigued by this book since it sounded like it took a look at a sometimes overlooked aspect of Irish culture- the pre-Christian traditions of the land that shaped a lot of the mythology and beliefs, and in some ways helped to for a syncretic version of Catholicism that still persists today. Quill’s has written a detailed and considerate guide and reference that navigates readers and those curious to reconnect with their surroundings. Quill refers to the Wheel of the Year as a “rhythm that pulses through the land, the aur, and the blood of those who remember.” As I was reading this guide, I could better understand that to engage with this wheel of the year is to think about time differently, not quite linearly, but rather as more cyclical, or as Quill says, like a “sacred spiral.” While reading this guide, I was thinking a lot about Chelsey Luger and Thosh Collins’ book The Seven Circles: Indigenous Teaching for Living Well. Both books re-examine traditional and indigenous ways as a means of reconnecting with the land and as a result bringing greater peace and understanding to ourselves. After reading this book and considering Quill’s notions about time, I was reminded of Jenny Odell’s Saving Time, in which she considers the different ways that people have considered time outside of capitalist systems that ask us to work for our time. For Quill, Luger and Collins, and Odell, time can move in different ways than linearly. In many cultures, activities, chores, tasks, and even our menus are determined by seasonal changes. And much like Luger and Collins’ book, Quill’s guide also offers  important reminders of offering thanks and gratitude to those responsible for the change of the seasons, the bountiful harvests, the warmth of the hearth and many other necessities of everyday life that we often take for granted. It was this call for a kind of pause to think and thank for all that we have that I really appreciated from Quill’s guide. Although I haven’t implemented these practices, I could see how taking the time to stop, reflect, and realize how much we have and how we are connected to nature and our environment can lead to deeper feelings of gratitude and empathy for all.

While Quill’s book presents a practical guide for engaging in traditional Irish practices, it also serves as a kind of reference book for both the mythical gods and goddesses and the festivals for these gods and goddesses that mark important seasonal transitions in the Irish Wheel of the Year. This was my favorite part of the book. Quill’s research and organization of these prominent mythical figures and their holidays reveals much about the traditional Irish practices and beliefs but also sheds some light in more modern traditions and holidays that have been adapted and incorporated by other cultures and belief systems. Quill not only provides background details about these figures and holidays but also presents ways to honor them and hold their festivals. I also loved that Quill recognizes that for many of us, especially those of us in America or who live in large cities, reconnecting with these traditional ways might present some challenges, whether it is accessing green space or even procuring the plants, herbs, and other natural elements that can be essential to honoring these traditional Irish ways. As a result, he not only shares the traditional methods but also makes suggestions about how American and city-dwelling individuals can adapt their practice to engage with these traditions and connect with the Irish Wheel of the Year. This was a fascinating book that provides many different practical applications to reconnect to the environment and develop a deeper appreciation for the world and others. Quill takes a considerate approach, acknowledging that for those who are new to traditional Irish practices, they may not want or be able to implement all of the practices at once. Furthermore, he also shares strategies and substitutions that will allow practitioners to use alternative methods and materials to practice this thoughtful and contemplative way of life. If anything, it seems like adopting the Irish Wheel of the Year allows readers to experience a greater sense of awe and appreciation for the world, especially in being grateful for all that we have. Even though I have not adopted the specific practices recommended in this book, I can see how taking the time, even if it is a few minutes each day, to reflect and be thankful can change someone’s outlook on the world, especially now when it seems like there is always bad news lurking behind each headline or screen that we view. Living the Irish Wheel of the Year will enable readers to reconnect with their environment, feel more gratitude, and experience time in a different manner. Highly recommended!





Sunday, February 1, 2026

Don't Cry for Me Privileged-tina; Welcome to The Real World

 Don't Cry for Me Privileged-tina; Welcome to The Real World

America's Deadliest Transportation Secretary, Sean Duffy, shown here with his wife and daughter prior to his blood-filled, violent tenure as Trans-Sec

Over the holidays, Evita Duffy-Alonso, the daughter of MTV power couple Sean Duffy (Real World: Boston) and Rachel Campos-Duffy (Real World: San Francisco),complained about airport security during her travels. (See article "Sean Duffy's daughter slams..." Duffy-Alonso, who was pregnant at the time, complained about receiving a body-pat down for not wanting to go through a body scanner. She complained on social media that she “nearly missed my flight this morning after TSA made me wait 15 minutes for a pat-down because I’m pregnant…” It was surprising to hear this coming from a child of the Trump administration, and from the daughter of America’s Deadliest Transportation Secretary ever, a man who has presided over nearly 60 fatal plane crashes resulting in over 188 deaths. I was surprised since it sounds as though she was asking for an accommodation due to her pregnancy. If anything, that the Trump administration has made abundantly clear through their excuses for real legislative action on issues (i.e. Executive Orders) is that people should not be treated differently due to conditions or their identities. Trump has spent the last year erasing protections for people, especially people who need and are legally entitled to support. Furthermore, with GOP states restricting the travel of pregnant women, Duffy-Alonso should be happy that she is allowed to travel without a male chaperone. If she lived in the Republic of Texistan, surely as a pregnant woman, she would need to seek a patriarchal companion to accompany her as she sought to travel outside of state lines. Maybe this was just a brief trip within state lines, but it made me wonder about those words from JD Vance, or maybe it was Nick Fuentes (I sometimes struggle to tell these young, white MAGA followers) who said “Your body, his choice.” Surely Duffy-Alonso realized that like the rest of us, she is living in Trump’s America now—and that by choosing not to monetize her pregnancy or become a trad-wife, she was entering into a danger zone where she has no body autonomy, no agency, and apparently no privileges. It’s like that dinner scene in Freaks, where she’s become one of us. Gooble Gabba, one of us. We accept her, one of us. Don’t cry for me, privileged-tina, but rather welcome to The Real World. I’m sure you’ll learn the Road Rules soon enough.

"One of us


I’ve also heard that since Paramount has been taken over by David Ellison, Trump has asked him to digitally remove Pedro Zamora from The Real World: San Francisco episodes. Trump felt that it was disrespectful to have a gay man with AIDS on TV, although he used much more colorful language to describe Pedro, and that he believed it would be a bad influence in children. Sources have reported that prior to digitally removing Pedro, Tricia McLaughlin, the Assistant Secretary of DHS, tried to have Pedro Zamora deported to Mexico, only to realize that he died over 30 years ago. Nevertheless, McLaughlin has noted that “illegals” like Zamora come to America with diseases and put Americans at risk. McLaughlin also noted that Zamora would be counted towards current deportation numbers, even though he died in 1994.



2026's Most Terrifying Movie

 A Review of Melania (2026)

Melania -2026's most terrifying movie

2025 was an exciting year for horror with films like Weapons, Sinners, Eddington, and 28 Years Later that used familiar film tropes to examine the horrors and monsters that we face regularly, whether these are supernatural or even if they walk among us. It looks like 2026 is off to a horrific start, meaning that there have been some further exciting and terrifying moments that have played out in entertainment. However, nothing can prepare audiences for the sheer horror that they will encounter in one of the most terrifying and shocking displays of sociopathy and evil captured on film since Henry Portrait of a Serial Killer. The new movie Melania is truly a frightening display of a creature possessed with the desire to infiltrate and infect the upper echelons of American power in order to breed to ensure a future for her alien race in America. There have been other great horror-sci-fi films that have used these kind of shape-shifting creatures who often take on the role of a beautiful woman, from Invasion of the Body Snatchers to the underrated 80s flick The Hidden, but none of them have incorporated the sheer psychopathy and disregard for humanity in the way Melania does. In some ways Melania also resembles a more horror- themed version of the classic Nicolas Roeg-David Bowie film The Man Who Fell to Earth, where we witness an alien abandoning his family for the spoils of capitalism. However, even Bowie’s alien experiences love and some sense of humanity with his memories of his family and previous life on his home planet. Melania has none of this human emotion. As an invading alien, she brilliantly plots a scheme to access and draw close to the nexus of power by selecting an animated corpse, a hollowed out rotten husk of a human, as her future breeder. These scenes interacting with her husband reminded me of the film Nekromantic, where the characters are driven by a Thanatos-like death drive to ultimately find pleasure in the decay and violence around death. Indeed Melania and her corpse-groom make a great couple, as they both seem to be incapable of human emotion, much like Henry and Otis in Henry. However, they eventually breed and give birth to Melania’s progeny, who may be destined to take control of the corpse-man’s empire.

Audiences watch as Melania climbs the social and political ladder, gaining closer access to the nexus of power. What is most frightening about Melania’s will to power is her utter disregard for other’s feelings or emotions. It is truly the banality of evil. Audiences watch as Melania picks out gold fixtures for a bathroom while children are placed in cages, implicitly awaiting their eventual slaughter and used as food for Melania and her progeny. Melania decorates her home in a bizarre and disturbing style while American families go hungry, with no government access to food stamps or other methods of aid. Melania selects outfits from a vast wardrobe of high-end fashion designers while American citizens are gunned down in cold-blood by her corpse-groom’s hired henchman. What is most terrifying is that as Melania continues to climb towards power, more violence, bloodshed, cruelty and terror erupt like a gaping wound across the land. She remains silent throughout all of this, only using her new access for her own benefit, and not recognizing the suffering of the people—women, children, and men. Audiences are left to speculate whether she chooses to ignore the violence and bloodshed or whether she revels in it, taking more and more while others give. It’s this kind of ambiguity that makes the film so terrifying and leaves audiences assured that she really doesn’t care, but it leaves us wondering whether we do. Melania has many elements and markers of the great horror films of the last 30 years, but what makes Melania truly terrifying isn’t the blood, violence, or threats of alien invasions; it’s the complete indifference to humanity, the callousness towards suffering and violence, and the complete sociopathy. Melania is a fascinating and terrifying character study and allegory of how far certain creatures will go to access power, and how they won’t allow anything to stand in their way. 



Saturday, January 31, 2026

Animal Allegory: George Orwell's Animal Farm: The Graphic Novel

 George Orwell's Animal Farm: The Graphic Novel

Illustrated by Jakub Politzer and Michael Purmensky; adapted by Christina Dumalasova and Katerina Horakova


Artist and illustrator Jakub Politzer
Adapted Christina Dumalasova


Adapted Katerina Horakova


Artist and illustrator Michael Purmensky


NB: Jakub Politzer is listed as the illustrator on NetGalley, but Michael Purmensky is listed as the illustrator in the book and on the Gemini Books page. 

Many thanks to Gemini Books Group and NetGalley for making the new graphic novel adaptation of George Orwell’s classic Animal Farm available for review. I was excited to find this adaptation since it had been some time since I’ve read and taught this allegorical work. In fact, I wish that this version had been around when I taught the book to high school students since many of them were reluctant readers who struggled a bit with Orwell’s British writing. Furthermore, teaching a book that serves as an allegorical critique of government philosophies in post-Revolution Russia and WWII Europe with farm animals serving as the stand-ins for figures like Stalin, Lenin, and Trotsky didn’t exactly catch with students who seemed to question the idea of animals talking and rebelling more than the themes of power, disinformation, conformity, exploitation, and control. Politzer’s and/or Purmensky’s illustrations help to emphasize some of the ferocity of the pigs who gradually and brutally take control of the farm. Furthermore, the stark, limited colors (mainly black and white with some reds added to emphasize danger, violence, and death) help readers identify key plot points and question the ways in which the pigs exploit the other farm animals as they work and produce while the pigs begin to take over. Although it’s been a while since I’ve read the original Animal Farm, I think that the adaptation by Christina Dumalasova and Katerina Horakova captured the essence of Orwell’s critiques and highlighted the eventual differences among the different animal groups. Furthermore, I couldn’t help but think of Orwell’s other major novel, 1984, while reading this adaptation, as we see how the pigs use the absence of information and the other animals’ ignorance and willingness to believe to propagate their own beliefs and ideas that are greatly for their own benefit. It also rings chillingly true of the current state of affairs in the US where the government continues to misinform the public with attempts to manipulate popular beliefs and support for extrajudicial and violent policies. It’s amazing how relevant and powerful this book is, which ultimately speaks to Orwell’s keen insight into some of the worst of human nature, especially around areas like power and greed. However, I think that this accessible, yet still incredibly powerful adaptation also speaks to the importance of art and literature to continue to critique and challenge in times of uncertainty and upheaval, where chaos and divisiveness can enable bad actors with extreme self-interests to ascend to positions of power, and where those in power can ultimately exploit and punish those without power. George Orwell’s Animal Farm: The Graphic Novel is an important reminder that we all need to be aware and resist this opportunistic power grabs and continue to question. It reminded me of a quote I recently encountered from Orwell’s 1984 “The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” We’ve witnessed this kind of propaganda and control recently, and making this classic Orwell tale into a graphic novel is a great way to engage more readers in learning about what is happening to continue to question the information they encounter. Highly recommended!