Broken Frontier

Last year, I had the opportunity to review a mainstream comic from an independent publisher set in the ultra-violent city of Cuidad Juarez. I pretty much panned that title but praised both the creator and the publisher for shedding some much needed light on the absolutely horrifying violence perpetrated against women in that city.

They say Cuidad Juarez is more dangerous than Baghdad – especially if you’re female. Over the last ten years, more than four hundred women have been found murdered in Cuidad Juarez’s vacant lots and back allies. Virtually all of these murders remain unsolved to this day. While the book I reviewed last year used the city as a unique setting to what essentially turned out to be a Top Cow-esque power fantasy, I recently had the chance to read a more emotionally complex and mature treatment of the city’s notorious reputation.

Luchadoras, by acclaimed French graphic novelist Peggy Adam, isn’t a superhero book. There are no super powers within its pages. There are no secret identities, no villainous schemes for world domination, no snappy patter betwixt thunderous blows. There aren’t even really any Mexican wrestlers to speak of. What Adam’s book does possess is heart, craft, and a raw honesty sadly lacking in North American comics. This is a book that almost had to come from overseas. I’m not sure that despite being one of the largest border regions (with El Paso, Texas) on the planet, the plight of Cuidad Juarez’s women is on the North American radar. And considering the polarization perpetuated by fringe groups like the Tea Baggers (Thanks, Bill Maher!) – err, I mean Tea Party – the issue probably wouldn’t get the kind of unobstructed coverage it deserves.

Kudos then to UK indy publisher Blank Slate for translating Adam’s original French OGN for North American consumption. Translators Martin Steenton and Judith Taboy do a marvelous job bringing Adam’s characters to life for an English-speaking audience. Having translated French survey answers into English for a major market research firm, I know enough of Adam’s native tongue to detect faulty translations when I read them. I know that’s a little like saying I can intuit the meaning of a knock-knock joke after the fact but there is a certain, seemingly unavoidable awkwardness in many translated editions, as translators reach for meaning in idioms and colloquialisms beyond their experience.

This is an important point when considering a book of Luchadoras' emotional depth. Adam angles towards her subject indirectly – the violence, poverty, and corruption permeating Cuidad Juarez isn’t the story of Luchadoras. Rather, they inform one woman’s desperate struggle for simple survival, creating a pall of claustrophobia and sultry heat (Yes, heat. Somehow, with crude b+w drawings, Adam conveys heat!), as fully realized and complete as any character. Steenton and Taboy smartly remain in the background, allowing Adam’s material to direct them, as it was meant to do. It’s this humility, coupled with an obvious passion for Alma’s story that allows this translation to resonate with such potency.

A sad, hard story of survival, lacking the closure of typical mainstream comics, Luchadoras isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s the kind of book you have to be in a mood to read and not necessarily a good one. Brilliant, brutal, and infused with the raw grace of a wounded panther, Luchadoras is so good, it hurts. You may not want to read it again after you’re through – but please do.