Considering how big a fan I am of the Neil Gaiman-Dave McKean dream team, it's a bit of a surprise that it took me until now to read their first collaboration! It was worth the wait though, and it's clear from the outset that this duo was assured success. Gaiman's text tells a story within a story, laying memory from childhood onto adult perceptions of previous life events, and treading themes that would become more developed in novels like the Ocean at the End of the Lane and short stories like "Troll Bridge" - memory, changed thought patterns, the ravages of time and sense memory specifically. Violent Cases may not have as engaging a plot as later stories, but this strange trip down memory lane gives us food for thought alongside its shelter skelter pop-culture moments. McKean's artwork pairs beautifully with the story, giving us enough gritty realism to make believe the reality of Al Capone's violent cases and blurring the lines between story and truth. The lack of bright colours actually works well for the birthday party that plays host to the story's crucial scene: emphasizing the narrator's dislike of the event as a whole and belieing the cheap glamour of choldhood birthday parties in "fancy" hotels. As with most of Gaiman and McKean's short comics, we are left with questions at the finale of Violent Cases. The most obvious is, of course, what actually happened and is the bone doctor a real character, but I wonder more about the narrator. Obviously he's not really Neil Gaiman (for all that his pictoral representation resembles him), but besides this one set of memories we don't know much about him. ( )

‘Violent Cases’ is a graphic short story written by Neil Gaiman and drawn by Dave McKean. The first panel shows the narrator, a man in his thirties, lighting a cigarette. The illustrations that follow show the story he’s telling but occasionally cut back to him. On pages 5-6 it cuts to the present day and him asking his father to clarify something.

The events he is recounting took place in Portsmouth, England when the narrator was four years old. His father accidentally hurt the little boy’s arm and took him to see an osteopath, who turns out to have been Al Capone’s osteopath. He tells the four-year-old about the good old days and the splendid parties Al used to have. On the return visit, he tells the boy more about the American gangster. Later, there’s a children’s party at a seafront hotel and the narrator bumps into the old man again.

The theme is partly memory and how accurate it may be. That’s where the title comes from in a clever bit of misunderstanding. Dave McKean’s art is in the style of Bill Sienkiewicz, not my favourite, but to be fair many of the illustrations are beautifully done and the story is well told. I enjoyed the reading experience and was only let down by the ending which was either vague or incredible, depending on how you take it. That’s deliberate, I’m sure as Neil Gaiman knows what he’s doing with a story and quite common now. Definite conclusions are old hat. Unfortunately, I still like them and not having one kind of ruins the preceding for me.

The tale is interesting and well crafted but rather slight. I’m not sure it merits this deluxe format and hardcovers but clearly, the publishers think so. It has an interesting introduction by Paul Gravett about the burgeoning eighties British comic scene in which the story was created and an introduction from the 1987 edition by his eminence, Alan Moore, to whom it is dedicated ‘with thanks and gratitude and, after all these years, still with a smidgen of awe. There’s an introduction by Neil Gaiman from the 1991 reissue. There’s an afterword by Neil Gaiman from the 2003 reissue and there are short biographies of Neil Gaiman and artist Dave McKean. In general, it’s packaged as something awesome and wonderful.

I’ll have to read it again and have a rethink. I mean, if Alan Moore likes it…I have more than a smidgeon of awe for big Al. Much more.

Eamonn Murphy
This review first appeared at https://www.sfcrowsnest.info/ ( )

In Violent Cases, Gaiman and McKean explore the flawed nature of memory. The narrator attempts to recall his childhood visits with an osteopath, but these reflections bring him no closer to discovering the "true" version of the events in question. Instead, the memories remain skewed by time and subject to any number of external influences - a reluctance on his father's behalf to discuss the doctor, his memories melding with cultural references, the narrator's own naivete as the child making these memories, and perhaps even a confluence of real events and imagined (or dreamed) events. Fragmented and nebulous, it is impossible to separate fact from fiction, and this inability continues to burden the narrator.

I'm on a real Gaiman kick these days and I thoroughly enjoyed this. McKean's illustrations are amazing. The story was fluid and abstract. I read it right before work and it definitely set a strange tone for my day. Gaiman and McKean don't offer any answers. This may be a look at the complexity of memory and the human psyche, but they don't offer analysis. So if you're looking for that, look elsewhere. The questions Gaiman asks, the uncomfortable observations he makes, his ability to verbalize what many of us understand only in incomprehensible and abstract terms is what keeps Gaiman readers (or at least this Gaiman reader) coming back for more. ( )

Well, it's not the worst thing Gaiman has done, in fact it's probably near the top of my list of his non-Sandman graphic works (with Coraline ranking above it). But that's not saying much. I keep reading them, because I think McKean does some amazing things, and because Sandman was so wonderful. So I keep hoping I will pick up another of his graphic endeavors and it will wind up being anywhere near that good. But they never are. And this one is no different. The story is rather morose (which is also fairly typical), and really not at all what I expected based on the blurb. Disappointing. ( )

La primerísima colaboración de Neil Gaiman y Dave Mckean. Hecha a mano, en una época en la que aún no se inventaba el photoshop. Y poniéndo envergüenza a la mayoría de las producciones digitales de ahora. Buena historia, y genial arte. ( )