Eustace by S.J. Harris

The darkness in Eustace creeps up on you unexpectedly. It begins sadly, but innocently with the travails of a sick child, illustrated in a whimsical, pencil-drawn style. On the brink of the Second World War, Eustace must remain indoors, suffering from some sort of chest complaint and rarely leaving the confines of his bed. Only as this graphic novel progresses do we become aware of the true neglect he must endure. Eustace's priggish father barely acknowledges his son's existence, whilst his mother is clearly suffering from a range of psychological conditions, leaving him in the hands of an uncaring nanny.

Then, just over half-way through, the narrative kertwangs spectacularly. Uncle Lucy, on the run from various financial crimes, decides to hide under the young boy's bed. He promptly turns Eustace's room into a gentlemen's club, complete with alcohol, prostitutes and drugs. This shift paves the way for some fairly viscous critiquing of the moral poverty accepted within the realms of the upper classes. By the end of the story Eustace is witness to various shocking acts, partakes in some wholly inappropriate activities, and barely escapes from a litany of terrifying characters. The imbalance between the two halves of this debut is pronounced, but it may in fact add to the effect Harris is trying to achieve and suggests promising future work. [Ryan Rushton]