This graphic novel (sometimes known as a "comic") tells the story of Bechdel's (Dykes to Watch Out For) childhood, thematically focusing on her father's death, his dark secret, and how Bechdel and her father's lives are intertwined by literature and sexuality. It's a riveting book on its own, as Bechdel is a highly literate writer, but the art is what brings it all together. Her figures are natural and cartoony at once, striking a very good balance between realism and the kind of gap required to fully involve the reader. The whole book uses a blue watercolor wash which adds to an already quite textured black and white. It's serious and tragic and smart and funny at once, and I can't recommend it enough; I tore through it and am thinking of buying it. Bechdel's narrative of her father's place in her family is seamlessly integrated with an exploration of her sexuality; while that sounds awfully self-indulgent, it doesn't come off as detrimentally so. Her people are endearing enough that you care, too.

I wish Peter Haining would stop writing books about all the stuff I like. I've got Phantom of the Opera and Sherlock Holmes stuff by him, and then there's this. He always sounds like he's fawning. Over everyone. Granted, this book is clearly "official" in nature, so he's not going to start complaining about anyone, but apart from having a nice list of Companions (up to Turlough, anyway) he never says anything. At all. It's a "nice" retrospective of the Doctor after 20 years, so it's not only rigidly uncritical but out of date. Male companions are referred to as "redoubtable" or (in Turlough's case) "unpredictable" while captions under female companions' photos use words like "delightful," "elfin-featured," and "delectable but scatterbrained"; though Sarah Jane gets to be "resourceful."

Honestly, Haining sounds like he wants to do every single one.

But here's my favorite bit, a quote from Anneke Wills (POlly) which is the stupidist thing I've ever heard about women in the media: "I wanted to play her like myself... scatter-brained, or 'kooky' as the newspaper persisted in calling me. I thought it would be a very good idea to play a total coward. Television was full of brave ladies in those days. I wanted to be a sort of feminine anti-hero, a weedy, frightened lady who screamed and kicked and shouted 'Doctor!' at the least sign of danger." Wow, Wills. You sure pushed the envelope there!

Anyone interested has probably picked this up already. But if you haven't done expect any commentary or even a decent amount of color photos; it's a "celebration" in the cheapest sense of the word.