4 out of 5

What I admire about Ryan Alves’ style is its flexibility, and how that becomes apparent almost surreptitiously. Thick inks and/or loose lines are applied to vaguely fantasy-esque landscapes and inhuman characters; it’s easy to not have any of the information really register right away. But some indication of form or movement will guide your eyes and provide a feeling, and with that, you’re following the story by sense-direction, then also realizing your discerning the images as well.

That said – and with apologies to Alves, as I’m describing my interaction with their art, which may not be the intended one – the done-in-a-day, automatic comic Pyre of Punishment fluxes back and forth between more graspable moments and more surreal ones, possibly owing to its unplanned nature, and making it rather hard to follow when its narrative is near a climax. Still, some surprisingly stirring words keep us in tune with a theme – a kind of nihilistic (or hopeful?) rumination on the circuitous try-fail-inspire others-to-try-and-fail struggle of life (I’ve been playing a lot of Dark Souls lately, so I might be projecting) – and I only describe these as ‘surprising’ due to that same unplanned approach to this book; the words are truly affecting, without being preachy, suggesting these are pretty deep-seated feelings for Alves, and that very much comes through.

Done with a grey wash on black and white and printed oversize, Pyre of Punishment narrates a culture of imprisonment from which an inmate breaks out, seeking a symbol of promise at the top of a mountain. Perhaps they do not make it, but perhaps their travails serve as inspiration…