Sweeping in scope, accomplished in execution, Lutes’ planned three-volume Berlin is the most ambitious work in historical comics fiction since Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell laid From Hell to rest. Book One, collecting the first eight issues of Lutes’ series, spans from September 1928 to the May Day riots of 1929, with an issue-long flashback to the November Revolution of 1918. Lutes’ artwork has lost the cartoony roundness of Jar of Fools; here, spare, elegantly composed panels are embellished with carefully chosen details — despite his evidently voluminous research, he never weighs down the narrative showing off his grasp of Weimar-era architecture. Book One, whose expansive cast of characters focuses on Kurt Severing, a left-wing journalist at a loss to comprehend the events rising to a boil around him, suffers necessarily from a sense of being left in medias res, though it ends on a satisfactory note of bittersweet elegy. The main feeling you’re left with, though, is excitement, and impatience to see exactly how far Lutes will take his broadly conceived experiment.

Alec: How to Be an Artist

History of an altogether different kind is undertaken by Eddie Campbell in this, his first all-new volume in far too long — history not just in comics, but of them as well. Having dropped all pretense separating himself from his fictional alter ego Alec McGarry (though he’s kept the name just to avoid confusion), Campbell sets out to tell the story of his adventures in the small press, from his days in the British underground of the early 1980s to his recent forays into self-publishing. The many references to fellow (and sometimes long-forgotten) cartoonists might scare off all but the in crowd, but Campbell’s tale is as much about his own transformation as the medium’s. Illustrated with self-deprecating wit (saved especially for long expository passages), it closes with a handy-dandy reading list which, though lacking in foreign-language titles, does a sterling job of rounding up the art form’s high points.

The Golem’s Mighty Swing

The Stars of David are a barnstorming 1920s baseball team that runs into a promoter with a dangerous idea to boost attendance: Costume one of their members as the mythical Golem. The gimmick works, but almost too well; crowds flock to see the Jewish monster, but the Golem also provides a lightning rod for anti-Semitism. Sturm’s thick-lined, almost nostalgic style contrasts pointedly with the human ugliness on display, as does his manifest pleasure in drawing the on-field action. A fondness for wordless panels and moment-to-moment action means Golem’s pages fly by almost too quickly; given the weighty subject matter, Sturm’s approach seems too anecdotal, lacking the context that might have brought the story home more forcefully. In a sense, the book works best as a twist on a young adult’s sports story, a baseball novelette fused with a cautionary tale.

Soundtrack: Short Stories 1989-1996

Abel (Artbabe ) is as frustrating as she is inspiring — her comics, early scraps of which are collected here, suggest there’s no one you’d rather hang out with, but her draftsmanship leaves a lot to be desired. In strips such as the one-page "True Grunge" — where hipsters sit on a tatty couch and discuss how long it’s been since their last shower — her scratchy, hesitant lines perfectly suit the milieu, but often the lack of perspective and poorly defined depth of field cause pages to collapse in a muddy mess. The best stuff here — and the quality, as well as the tone, varies widely — are oral history strips drawn from the Chicago Reader, scattered impressions drawn from a Camille Paglia reading or an evening at a bowling-alley-turned-punk-rock-venue.

Portraits From Life: Comics About Ethel Catherwood, Grey Owl, Richard Collier, David Milgaard & Humphry Osmond

Working in a conscientious, classically oriented style — more than one of these strips begins with a nod to EC’s 1950s war comics — Collier covers a wide range of subjects, from "The Ethel Catherwood Story," about the Canadian beauty who became an Olympic high-jumper, to the tale of Grey Owl, the Englishman who swindled the world by pretending to be a Native American philosopher. Collier’s cross-hatched, realistic drawings belie a whimsical approach to historical storytelling: Nearly every tale is framed by an unreliable narrator whose own background is as fuzzy as Grey Owl’s. Eschewing grand statements, Collier’s content to toy with the medium, and these unknown legends provide the perfect playground.

Legal Action Comics, Vol. 1

Call this one history in the making. After cartoonist Ted Rall penned a Village Voice cover story essentially calling Maus author Art Spiegelman the Boss Tweed of New York City cartooning, Hellman circulated an e-mail, purportedly from Rall, calling Spiegelman "the cartoon business’ own bald, chain-smoking Napoleon" and directing further discussion to an e-mail list called "TedRall’sBalls." Sophomoric stuff, to be sure, but Rall took the satire seriously enough to file a $1.5 million suit against Hellman, prompting this mammoth benefit anthology, a virtual who’s who of the last three decades of American cartooning. You’d expect Spiegelman to be on Hellman’s side, but the list of other talent is staggering: R. Crumb, Robert Williams, Spain Rodriguez, Peter Kuper, Kaz, Tony Millionaire, Julie Doucet, Renee French, Mary Fleener, Gary Panter, even an illustrated Jim Knipfel story. As is often the case with such anthologies, not every contribution is a career highlight (and some are clearly castoffs), but a surprising number rally either to Hellman’s specific cause or a more generally free-speech theme. (A highlight: Michael Kupperman’s "Dirty Danny Goes to the Zoo," which features a misshapen bird-lizard hybrid exclaiming "I can screech loudly and without pause!… I’ve almost won several awards!") For purchase and further information, head to www.dannyhellman.com.

Ghost World: A Screenplay

This might seem like a bit of a cheat, since it’s neither historically oriented or even a comic book (though if you’ve read this far, you surely know the film was developed from the stories originally run in Clowes’ Eightball). But Ghost World’s real enough to feel like history, and Clowes and Zwigoff’s screenplay lets you sneak a peek at several scenes that didn’t make the final cut (including some that should lay to rest those nasty rumors that Enid’s exit is some kind of symbolic suicide). A new one-page strip and annotation from Clowes and Zwigoff make this a great companion to what may turn out to be the year’s best movie.

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