3 out of 5

I had intended to finish this series (it’s four issues), but after ending up back at a judgement equivalent to a shoulder shrug with another Langridge title, I’ve decided to stick with my original gut feeling and save a few bucks.

Which is not to discount the reliable Langridge charms: whether drawing it himself (as is the case here) or working with another artist – generally with similar sensibilities to his own – Roger’s books look great and have a wonderful sense of comedic timing.  The stories are also just to the right of normal, so while my criticisms mostly surround disappointment with how his tales tend to play things safe, I wouldn’t say they don’t encourage creativity.  And they’re funny.  But, again, in that totally acceptable prime-time kinda way, with one or two slightly eyebrow-cocking jokes for the parents, whom are also undoubtedly getting some nostalgia butterflies for the (*cough* fake) sensibilities of yore, because… Roger is still an old fuddy-duddy.  And ‘Abigail,’ charms and all, exists in that fuddy-duddy vacuum that’s completely unrelated to the real world.  On the one hand, this is all fine and good: things don’t have to be doom and gloom, nor do they have to have hashtags everywhere; but on the other hand, it’s almost brow-wrinkling insulting the way that Langridge blends real problems (poverty, joblessness) with a kind of daffodil tossing ‘yay for imagination’ glee.  This is a limitation to the writing and the potential impact, and renders the book, in my eyes, as truly light reading, and I’d rather give my non-existent kids something that I feel might get some back-o’-the-brain cogs turning a bit.  But, again again, your child-rearing priorities might be different, and you might find this kind of clean entertainment spot on.  My judgements reside here, in my review, and all over your facebook account when I’m trolling you with pictures of Satan’s peepee.

Abigail: Has just moved to a new town and is totally the “weird kid,” talking to her invisible dog, Claude (which she knows is fake but commits to it whole-heartedly) and not making friends while her single-parent Dad, loving though he is, seems to be unable to hold down a job.  Ah, but things turn around when Abigail stumbles into a Yeti on her school playground, who can’t be seen by adults (that old trope…) and yet was totally ignored by every other kid on the playground until Abigail sees him, and maybe that plot hole will be addressed in issues 3 and 4 but… it’s not even casually mentioned as a plot point, so maybe not, and whatever.  What’s more important is that said Yeti – now taking on that Claude name – is actually a ‘belonging’ of the government, who’s sent / sending black suit wearing secret agents to track him down.  Claude and Abigail become friends, Abigail abuses the attention Claude merits from the other kids and also forms an unhealthy attachment to him, all of which I’m sure will be happily dealt with with a lot of hugs later on.

The world is bright and beautiful, the characters are madly expressive, and Fred Stresing’s colors are magnificent.  It’s just all so, so safe.