@#$%& Beto!

I very deliberately emotionally steeled myself for Luba #10. Creator Beto Hernandez ended the last issue on such a one-two punch of cliffhangers (no pun), I knew I needed to be ready. Lots of stories were about to come to a head, lots of emotions.

And they do. Lots of stories do come to a head—Beto’s finishing business he started back in Love and Rockets, including Luba and Ofelia’s origin story arc, Poison River—and there are lots of emotions. But Beto’s got some surprises up his sleeve, and he saves the big one for halfway through the issue, at which point there’s so much emotional relief he’s got time to prime up for another one-two punch on the finale. And this time, there’s no “Continued…,” but a “The End.”

Much of the comic is about Luba, though often through her daughters’ perspective. She starts the issue visiting Pipo in the hospital—someone mugging Pipo and brutally beating her is one of the previous issue’s cliffhanger punches—and witnessing the peculiarities of Pipo’s storyline in the comic. For example, Luba’s sister Fritz arrives to console Pipo, who she’s dating, while Pipo’s son, Sergio, who used to date Fritz before Pipo seduced her away, stands in the back sullenly. Outside, Gato—Pipo’s ex-husband, now married to Luba’s daughter—waits for Sergio so they can go get shitfaced together. Pipo’s assault has given them a shared purpose, which we’ll discover later; it’ll be the largest non-Luba-related subplot.

The most significant unrelated subplot—early in the issue before Beto gives away the “twist”—is Venus and Hector going for a walk through a scary forest where there’s a stone marked Frankenstein. It’s a gentle aside with a bit of a bite thanks to Hector having an “ah-ha” moment (eureka, not Take on Me), lots of mood, and lots of personality. Luba’s trying to calm down a still hysterical Venus during the opening hospital visit—Venus’s crying started at the end of last issue when everyone found out about the cliffhangers—and it’s a good bit of character work while laying groundwork for later. Though it’s groundwork on groundwork, it turns out. Beto does a whole bunch in the last two pages of the issue.

Meanwhile, Luba’s feeling abandoned. Daughter Doralis is going to do televised charity work around the world, sister Fritz is going off to Hawaii with her (beard?) husband-to-be, not to mention Ofelia’s no longer going to be around to help. That particular absence convinces Luba’s estranged daughter Maricela to visit—not to make reconnect (Luba’s still super shitty about her gay kids being gay)—but to offer to take care of her youngest siblings. Something Luba’s husband, Khamo, doesn’t think is a bad idea. Without Ofelia around to even slightly referee, Luba’s arguments with Khamo get even more heated.

It’s a hell of an issue for Luba. Especially how much it takes place in her background reactions. She’s rarely the focus of talking heads panels; it’s her kids, her sisters, her friends, but so much plays out for her and from her.

And, obviously, Beto’s handling of the Ofelia stuff is extraordinary.

Luba started a tightly connected anthology, then became a loosely connected multi-chapter narrative, and Beto brings it all together for a complete piece in the end. He forecast the approach last issue when the separately titled strips all wove together, but this issue’s one of his greats.

There’s so much tragedy in the resolution but also so much hope. It’s a magnificent conclusion.

@#$%& Beto!

What an issue.

Creator Beto Hernandez outdoes himself, starting the issue with a series of one-page strips, catching up with the cast. Though they’re occasionally part of longer stories; for example, the first story is about Ofelia and Doralis visiting Socorro at her genius school. The first page is them getting ready to go, establishing Ofelia and Luba are still fighting, the second page is catching up with Socorro, and the third page is Luba and Ofelia. Connected but separate, which is how Beto’s treated this whole series as an anthology.

The following single-page strip, which has Marciela meeting Khamo at a fire, echoes right back to the Luba and Ofelia portion of the opening three pages, but also Socorro (Maricela’s sister) and the contrasting relationships with mom Luba. It’s so good and quick; Beto then aims it forward with Marciela talking to her girlfriend about the experience.

There are three longer stories, though the first feels a little like an extended single-page strip. It’s Pipo and Fritz, now dating, talking about how they need to dump their (male) lovers. Pipo and Fritz’s romance gets the most page time in this issue, with the third long story almost entirely focused on it and its fallout for the cast. But that first strip feels like a moody, dreamy Beto piece rather than the inciting incident.

Beto then flexes again with Venus and Hector thinking their way through a one-pager about Petra’s first kickboxing match. It’s cute and in no way forecasts the next time Hector and Venus get a strip in the issue, which is the final one and the gut punch.

There’s then a Fortunato story, which is actually an Ofelia story, but with the reveal she too has bedded the seductive merman. Also, all of Luba’s daughters. It’s a beautiful story and probably where Beto winds up for the final punch so much. Much like earlier, there’s then a “separate” but intricately related postscript strip with Luba and Khamo.

The Fritz and Pipo story about them breaking up with their lovers runs eight pages, with Beto still employing the one-page strip device. Everyone in the supporting cast from this storyline gets an appearance, with Guadalupe getting a surprising subplot. Even though the series has been very much about Pipo, Guadalupe’s Luba’s low-key protagonist. It ends on one kicker, as Petra gets more and more exhausted hearing about Pipo’s abusive behavior from Fritz before going into the “things will never be the same” finish.

If the penultimate story ends on a kick to the shins, the last one knocks the reader down and pummels them, with the teaser for the next issue and the color back page pinup the final hits. It’s devastating.

Hell of a comic. Need to stop thinking about it before I cry.

Beto’s so damn good.

I'm getting worried I was supposed to be reading Luba's Comics and Stories simultaneously to Luba. The last two issues have had ads for the other comic, which makes me wonder what creator Beto Hernandez's version of the Superman shield with the reading number would be… probably something amazingly obscene.

Hopefully.

This issue's almost entirely about Doralis's show going off the air, only it's not about Doralis. She figures in a couple times, both times with huge revelations, but she's never the protagonist of the stories, rather a dramatic punchline. The first time it's in Boots's recollection of the final straws on the show, as Doralis and Pipo lash out at one another. Boots protects Doralis and her secret, which Beto then shares with the reader. It's a surprise, though also not entirely unexpected. So keeping Doralis at a distance makes sense.

That story's the second in the issue. Before it, there's Luba going to a leather and latex club with Pipo and Fritz. This issue establishes—across most of the stories—Pipo and Fritz secretly dating and repercussions on the cast, which is one of the reasons I'm worried I should've been reading Comics and Stories. The last time Beto covered Pipo's romantic pursuit (and forward advances) of Fritz in Luba, Fritz wasn't interested.

Now they're basically together. Of course, Fritz's still got her boyfriends, including Sergio. All those boyfriends take a back seat, though–Fortunato's around and seduces a bunch of the ladies this issue. He'll figure into almost all of the strips, including a cameo in Sergio's later.

This issue might be where Doralis loses her show, but it's the Fortunato issue.

So, the first story is Luba at the club, Sergio trying to convince her to tell his mom, Pipo, to stop being immature and slutty, especially around his girlfriend, Fritz. Only then Fortunato shows up, and all the ladies flock to him.

Second story is Boots's recounting of the last days of Doralis's show. Guadalupe and Sergio's drama figures in late in the story, with Sergio again declaring his love and Gato showing up to throw a wrench in their moment. Or at least their possibility of a moment. It's most interesting because the story—running for pages—starts with Guadalupe being an observer, then protagonist enough to fill the pages with thought balloons, only to turn out to be Boots's story entirely. It's deft work from Beto.

The epilogue is Gato hanging out with the rest of the people who helped ruin the show—a gossip publisher and the girl who worked on the show but conspired against it. It's an excellent one-pager for Gato; we've been hearing about this plot since New Love and Beto spent most of Luba resolving it in the background, but he's never shown this side of the story. It's brief and perfect.

Then it's back to Fortunato. We get another chapter in his origin—he'd already told Pipo he was fished from the sea, but in flashback, and then Doralis's story about Atlantians with legs hinted at his fantastical lineage. This time Boots is telling the story (as Pipo's told her). It's got a couple great punchlines. Boots is Beto's finest device in Luba; she's a close but distant narrator, always ready with a great joke or a surprise.

Fortunato, Pipo, and Fritz also figure into the following story. It's a Sergio story; at six pages, it's the longest in the issue (though the first three or four stories do sort of run together). He's mad at mom Pipo for mooning over Fortunato and making a fool of herself with Fritz, so he rushes off to the airport and his next match. Unfortunately, he runs afoul of football hooligans and rich men's wandering wives while having a minor breakdown about his home situation. Everyone thinks it will ruin his football, but he's determined not to let it.

It's a good story for Sergio. It's been a while since he's had one, and he's usually only sympathetic when someone's very maliciously wronging him, which I suppose also happens here, but still. Beto employs different pacing; most of this issue has been conversations (and Fortunato), so the mood change here is nice.

The next strip is a one-pager with Guadalupe thinking about her life. Doralis and the show figure in, but it's otherwise a dozen-plus panels of Guadalupe thinking. It's good… but if there's a reason for Guadalupe to think people think so poorly of her… I don't remember it. It'd be from Love and Rockets, but no, don't remember her being terrible, which makes her very sympathetic though it's kind of not her story even though she thinks her way through it.

The last story is another Luba story; four pages. It's the finale of the Doralis cancellation fallout, but the middle's more about Fritz. Then the finish is Luba and Ofelia getting into a nasty fight for the first time in ages. As the last story, it's both a non sequitur and not.

Overall, Beto's more ambitious in the second half of the issue than in the first. The first's very complicated and intricate, so it's forgivable. But then the best thing—in this comic where everyone's been talking about Fritz, but it's been ages (issues) since she's gotten to be a protagonist—is the back cover color strip. It's just different images of Fritz in the different areas of her life, with the different people. It's fantastic, and probably the most successful Beto's ever been tying the seemingly unrelated back cover strips to the main content.

This issue came out over a year after the previous one, and creator Beto Hernandez does some deck cleaning, mostly for Luba and Khamo’s so-far series-long arc about him being in trouble with the police.

But first, there’s a Steve Stransky story; Steve’s been in Luba before (and maybe New Love) as Guadalupe’s friend, but he’d been in Love and Rockets too. Only I kind of forgot. Or I had the thought he was a returning character but didn’t think it was relevant enough to look up. So this story has a bunch of Steve Stransky antics and some other returning characters from Rockets.

It also reveals Fritz was married (and divorced) at least twice, the first time to a gangster of some kind, the second time to a deadbeat musician who Steve knows. Beto’s characterization of Fritz is very different this issue than usual. It’s a little strange how Beto’s brother Jaime did a secret husband reveal in his Rockets spin-off, and now Beto’s doing it here. Or is he? If I forgot Steve Stransky, did I forget Fritz’s husband? Beto doesn’t cover character histories in the roll call.

So a meteor is going to hit the planet and presumably wipe out human life. Everyone’s acting a little weird and calling in old debts; for Steve Stransky, it means getting Fritz to meet up with her ex, who wants some money from her. The ex also knows Igor, and Igor suddenly knows Fritz, and I really don’t remember these storylines intersecting before. It’s okay, though, even if Fritz’s character’s different (there’s some continuity, however, with her model boyfriend, Enrique, showing up in a wordless part).

Even if Fritz is sympathetic to her ex, her sister Petra is very much not. Steve has a crush on both Fritz and Petra. And also Guadalupe, who’s around but without any story for herself. Because it’s a Steve story. The meteor crisis kind of lets Beto do whatever he wants. With this first story, anyway. The second is a different beast.

The second story is about Luba and Khamo’s bewildering experience regarding his criminal connections. In the last issue, Beto did a big twist: Khamo’s helping one gang against another, not the cops, and his handlers have plans for Luba. It raised many questions and made Khamo seem suspicious in ways dangerous to Luba.

If this story’s resolution holds, Beto’s not going to be doing anything with those threads. The story’s strange and discomforting, but it’s effectively done. Beto introduces one weird thing after another before wrapping up; it feels like a defeat, but the arc seemed written into a corner anyway.

The last story is about Hector. His ex-girlfriend, looking different than his first appearance where he hallucinated her, is getting a restraining order against him. Petra doesn’t like him being forgiving, while Fritz is all of a sudden upset Hector isn’t still into her, even though she gave him to Petra.

There’s a brief Venus appearance and gag at the start of the story, but it’s all Hector, including a courtroom scene where he thought balloons his way through the proceedings. The art and narrative are so disconnected it feels like Beto was doing an experiment with the Marvel Method, drawing from a plot, then adding the dialogue to the finished art. It’s also got the meteor’s impending arrival in the background.

The issue ends up being strongest for Petra, who gets a surprisingly (but maybe not unexpected) arc.

Also making the issue seem weird is the lack of Pipo, who appears but doesn’t have any lines because she doesn’t speak English and—besides Luba—no one speaks Spanish in the issue. I guess it feels more Love and Rockets than Luba.

It’s good, of course. But it’s not as good as the rest of the series has been.

This issue is primarily a comedy soap opera, expertly executed by creator Beto Hernandez. But first, he does the opening Luba story, only it’s a Khamo story. Juxtaposed against Luba and Ofelia herding the children—and getting ready for Socorro to go away to gifted school—is Khamo and the “cops” he’s helping.

It turns out he’s not helping the cops; he’s helping some mobsters, presumably using his old connections to get rid of someone’s competition. It raises many questions—the most critical being, does Khamo understand the danger he’s put his family in (because his handlers talk about it in English, so he can’t understand them), or is he a dupe, or is there something even worse going on. It’s four pages, and it haunts the rest of the issue. It’s also brilliantly paced, with Beto jumping from scene to scene as Khamo and various drug dealers discuss karma. Khamo and karma? It’s an out-of-nowhere subplot twist, and I’m already antsy worrying about the resolve (especially since Luba’s only whole conversation is about feeling impending doom).

So good.

The rest of the comic is about Hector Rivera, a new character Beto introduced last issue, only without naming him. He gets a name here. Last issue, Hector helped Socorro and Joselito get home after they have an adventure; in this issue, they run into him when they’re out with Aunt Fritz. Fritz likes Hector, much to his surprise and delight, and pretty soon, they’re getting busy.

The story’s mainly about Fritz trying to set Hector up with her sister, Petra, only Petra’s resistant. Fritz has too many boyfriends already to add a third to the mix (especially since we find out she’s added Fortunato, but he’s not a regular). So the story’s basically her having awkward conversations and sweaty sex. Meanwhile, Hector’s utterly enamored with the only temporarily attainable Fritz and trying to avoid the matchmaking too.

Beto does a whole range of scenes, like some fun ones with Petra gossiping about her sister at work, touching ones (one of Fritz’s boyfriends is more serious than she realizes), and just thoughtfully executed ones, like Hector bonding with Venus over comic books. It’s a great feature (at eleven pages, it’s the longest of the three).

Before the next longest feature, at eight pages, Beto does a one-page Doralis bit about “legged sea people.” These are the in-between merpeople and human people, whose magical origin story is similar to what Fortunato told Pipo last issue. And there’s Fortunato on the TV—a recurring visual motif—to emphasize his supernatural origin. It ends with a nice moment for Luba and Socorro; Beto’s been spotlighting their mother and daughter relationship well these last few issues.

The final story is another Hector one, although he’s sharing it with Petra this time. She’s just discovered her ex-husband is remarrying and hasn’t invited her to the wedding, so she decides to try to spoil it, only she’ll need Hector’s help.

For semi-exhibitionism to distract from the nuptials. Because Petra’s being petty, which she doesn’t tell Hector about. Meanwhile, he’s worried about telling her about his brief romance with Fritz; on the one hand, he doesn’t want to lie; on the other hand, he’s concerned about Petra’s reaction.

Though the last story established Petra at least assumes Fritz and Hector made the beast with two backs.

Beto also reveals Petra’s a born-again Christian, which I think has to be the first mention because I’d really think I’d remember. Though I don’t think she ever tells Hector she’s born-again, his bros are all gossiping about her to him. Hector can overcome Petra being a jock and religiosity, only we still don’t know how Petra actually feels.

Hector’s a fine new character, though Beto goes overboard with his thought balloons, seemingly trying to justify his shoehorning in as a protagonist. He’s not a new recurring supporting character like Fortunato; he’s an entirely new lead. One who gets lengthy thought balloons to explain his behavior, something the main cast never gets.

It’s the most traditional thing Beto’s done with Luba, but it also seems the riskiest. Or maybe I just remember his brother Jaime’s lousy luck trying to make Locos a thing.

Oh, and the back cover color comic? It’s a lengthy fart joke set at Socorro’s going away party. It’s awesome.

This issue’s got three stories, but thanks to creator Beto Hernandez’s structure of the second one, it feels like four stories.

The first story is the Luba story, though something in story two (and a half) calls back to one of her solo stories even though she’s not actually in it.

Beto just opens with a cast list again, including little relevant details to catch up with the characters’ current storylines.

All right, the Luba story. Luba takes daughter Socorro to visit a gifted school. There’s great mother and daughter stuff for Luba, but while they’re gone, the other kids get it in their heads Ofelia’s writing a book about Luba. So the story starts with this great mom and daughter stuff, then becomes this great Luba and Ofelia thing, with the undercurrent about Luba’s other daughter, Doralis, coming out as queer (and how seemingly all Luba’s kids but one are gay).

Beto ends the story on this beautiful, perfect note; it’s a divine five pages.

The second story is all about the drama behind Doralis’s TV show; Doralis doesn’t figure in, rather Luba’s other daughter, Guadalupe, but more her husband, Gato. Everyone’s just found out Gato sold Pipo (who produces the show) out to the media, and now he’s writing a book about her. The story’s from Boots’s perspective. Boots is the new accountant and an inspired new character from Beto. She’s an inherently funny character, which carries over even to her narration (she’s writing about the drama, not participating until the last page).

But this story is where Beto sneaks in the half story, with Boots doing a flashback to the first time Pipo and her son, Sergio, came to the United States. At the time, Pipo was still married to Gato, so he came with them, but they were separated, so when she ends up with a stud, it’s all right.

It just turns out we’ve already met the stud before, as some years in the future—or recent issues’ present—he’s going to hook up with Luba. And this issue reveals some of the background to that liaison, full of mystical realism but urban.

It’s outstanding stuff. And it’s never a distraction from it being Pipo’s story, right up until it becomes Guadalupe’s story.

Like the first story, Beto finds a sublime finish for it.

Then comes Socorro’s story, which might be the best in the issue. The three stories do very different things and work in unison; they’re not competing. But this story’s particularly fantastic.

Socorro and little brother Joselito follow Luba out one night after their father has stormed out (post-Luba fight, though we never know what they’re arguing about). They steal a neighbor’s car, leading to a hilarious but dangerous sequence with little kids driving a car.

Only Socorro’s a genius, so she’s got very good, very reasoned observations.

Beto then changes the perspective over to a different character, some punker who’s just broken up with his girlfriend, and she kicked him out of his own place. Too high to go home (he’s crashing at his parents), he wanders around. Simultaneously, Socorro is trying to get Joselito home safely.

It’s a fanciful, verbose story—with Beto using much thinner lines than usual, giving the art some tension—with another great conclusion. It’s a slice of life colliding with comic strip hijinks.

The color one-pager on the back cover is a lovely formal thing with Fritz doing ballet. Beto plays around with colors and movement.

Once again, it’s an excellent issue; as usual, Beto takes entirely unexpected routes to that greatness. During the first story, it doesn’t seem like anything will be better than the second story engenders a similar reaction, but then the third—not even about the regular cast—blows the first two away.

It’s exceptional comics.

I was initially lukewarm about this issue—well, as lukewarm as one can get about an expertly executed, inspiredly plotted comic—but I’ve come around. Sort of. The issue’s got two big features, with the Luba one coming in at fourteen pages (give or take a splash page), which is the most space creator Beto Hernandez has given anything in the series so far. It also does a whole bunch, as Beto looses Luba on her family. They’ve been apart for most of the series, and the reuniting last issue was about seeing the little ones and husband Khamo.

In her story this issue, Luba discovers all the soap opera drama the adults have gotten themselves into while she’s been away.

Beto uses Luba’s daughter Doralis’s variety show for structure. Doralis is showing her mom the rough cut of a very special episode, all about Luba and her history. The story then slips into Luba’s daily experiences, like meeting up with Khamo for a quickie after he gets done informing on drug connections (a requirement of getting him into the U.S.). Luba also hangs out with her sisters, Petra and Fritz, and comes away exasperated at their lives. Next, she’s got a lovely scene with daughter Guadalupe, who’s very sweet but also bores Luba. Finally, Beto gets in a scene for estranged daughter Maricela; she’s on the phone with Ofelia (Luba’s cousin and life guardian). Their conversation rattles the fourth wall while the entire story fuzzies the narrative distances.

It’s an outstanding fourteen (or thirteen minus the splash) pages. Beto plays with history, memory, relationships, all of it. After letting the supporting cast run rampant, he firmly re-establishes Luba as the protagonist. Except it’s also the story where Doralis comes out to her mom, something the comic’s been plotting all of this Luba series and way back to Love and Rockets. Lots of culminating; Beto does a fantastic job with it.

So for the first couple of pages of the following story, there’s a lull. There’s no filler between the stories; it’s the end of this long chapter in Luba and her family’s life; immediately, it’s the fallout from Pipo’s perspective. Pipo produces Doralis’s show, and the gossip columns already know she’s coming out before the episode’s aired.

The story doesn’t have a protagonist; it floats (with intention) between Pipo and her supporting cast. Her son Sergio says he’s in love with Guadalupe but is dating Guadalupe’s aunt, Fritz. Pipo confesses a crush on Fritz to her new accountant, Boots (who’s kind of the protagonist, but also not). Pipo used to be married to Guadalupe’s husband, Gato, who’s also Pipo’s former accountant and hangs around to give Boots advice on things. Boots has taken it upon herself to find out who’s leaking the information to the gossip rags, which it turns out calls back to the New Love series.

It’s another very complicated story, with exceptional plotting from Beto, both visually and narratively. Even better than Luba’s feature, which doesn’t seem possible. Beto creates a singular comics montage system in the first story, with the second story then expanding on its potential. Breathtaking work.

So when the last interior comic is a one-pager about Guadalupe and Luba, a daughter and mom piece, it has a deflating effect. Beto got over the lull between features through masterful comics. Unfortunately, there’s no time to get over the second story in the one-pager. There’s just not room. Even though it’s a lovely strip for Guadalupe, who narrates.

The back cover color comic is Fritz and Sergio playing in the snow with her nieces, which leans into the color format more than Beto’s done with the color strips before. It’s delightful and charming, which is pretty much the reaction from the characters too.

The features are exceptional. There just isn’t any way to compliment them with one-page strips.

Beto’s also very prescient about digital backdrops in live-action media, albeit ten or fifteen years early. For the special, Doralis keeps explaining they’re using CGI to create the settings, which was magic through technology at the time—though, Star Wars: Episode One—but it’s now standard.

Anyway.

Truly great comic. Even if it sits awkwardly in the end.

Creator Beto Hernandez again opens the issue with a roll call, separating out Luba’s kids, her extended family, and, finally, Pipo and her assorted boys. The roll call’s important primarily for Socorro, who last issue’s cast list didn’t identify by name. Socorro’s going to have a reasonably big story this issue.

But, first, there’s the Luba feature. She’s still trying to get husband Khamo into the U.S., but she just happens across a beautiful dude on the beach, and he’s more than happy to temporarily bump uglies. Beto combines a moody piece about Luba’s desires with the pragmatic; she meets up with Doralis and Pipo (who are the ones who got Khamo in, it turns out), goes home to her kids, waits for Khamo to arrive. It’s an excellent, dreamy mix.

Beto keeps Doralis’s coming-out subplot going, with she and Pipo briefly discussing it, and there’s a perfect single panel of Ofelia and Luba back together. The issue’s got a lot of deep cuts to old Love and Rockets throughout, but in this story, it’s very much about the tone. Again, Beto does a great job with it, especially how the family reuniting works out; his narrative distance to Luba is sublime.

The second story is a flashback to Khamo’s life before Luba and his disfigurement. It’s equal parts comedic, horrifying, and dramatic. His problems started as a kid, with a profoundly abusive mother, and then his teens are this often amusing montage of a fake revolutionary. The story is titled Poseur, after all.

The most startling scene is when Beto brings back Tonantzin in one of the flashbacks. Tonantzin’s death is one of Palomar’s breakpoints; there’s before, there’s after. So seeing her just having a chill conversation is jarring, especially knowing what’s coming immediately after. But in a good way.

Beto also does a good job playing with never showing Khamo talking; it’s one of the character hallmarks, and Beto figures out something nice to do with it. A little emotionally rending, sure, but nicely done.

There’s a lot of great art on the story, which covers decades and various locations. Just phenomenal pacing.

The following story is a one-page Ofelia strip where she talks to some admirer about media criticism. It’s a great, mostly monologue piece, with a lot of Ofelia personality. Beto’s also got some excellent observations about how and why criticism works (and doesn’t). It’s lovely mood relief from the Khamo story’s intensity, plus there’s a nice Luba-involved punchline.

Outside Guadalupe, the next story is Luba-family-free. It’s about Gato, Pipo, Guadalupe, Igor, and Sergio. Gato used to be married to Pipo and was Sergio’s step-father. Sergio’s convinced he and Guadalupe were tween first loves, but she doesn’t remember it that way. She’s now married to Gato. Before she married him, she dated Igor, who’s now with Pipo. That tangled mess is backdrop to Pipo needing a new accountant because Gato’s quitting to become a writer. So Pipo flies in Boots from Palomar; I can’t remember if Boots was around in Love and Rockets but she’s a perfect, strange, lovable Beto character.

I’m low-key shipping her and Gato now, actually.

It’s a soap opera story (Guadalupe even calls it one) and an excellent one.

The last story in the issue’s a three-pager with Socorro. To some degree, it’s a Luba’s kids’ strip, opening with Casimira leaving the house (where Luba’s mad at Khamo about something already) and finding her younger siblings playing with fire. However, it quickly becomes a conversation about Socorro’s outstanding memory, which she thinks is because her real father is a serial killer.

The other kids try to convince her otherwise with no success, but then mom Luba inadvertently fixes the situation by just being a good mom. It’s a very sweet finish to the issue, which has been a rollercoaster of unresolved past issues.

The color strip on the back cover is Petra and Fritz at the beach meeting studs while the kids play. It’s the sisters’ only appearance in this issue. It’s a nice little strip, with Beto getting in some gentle humor and delightful color art.

It's a little strange for a twenty-four-year-old comic to hear your requests from the future, but creator Beto Hernandez opens Luba #2 with a cast introduction, just like I wanted. Though it sort of just points out how much I actually remembered and the two things I forgot—whether Pipo was related to Luba (she's not) and what Gato's around for (he's Guadalupe's husband, formerly Pipo's, from Palomar days… I think).

Anyway.

The issue's another generally contemporaneous anthology, starting with Luba and the old man, Gorgo, in the United States, still working on getting her family across safely. Luba's still scared there's a hit out on the family because of something from the past. So she's finally going to meet with people to guarantee it's okay now. But even though she's going alone, she's got to care for the old man a little, including getting help from a fetching young man on the hotel block.

He doesn't speak Spanish, and Luba doesn't speak English, so they have amusing back-and-forths as Luba gets the old man settled and heads to the meeting. Luba's isolation echoes back to the last issue; Beto does an excellent job. There's also a deep cut visual reference to a Love and Rockets arc (the source of the family's potential danger); the visual's familiar, I can't remember the details. In case Beto wants to hear me in the past and include them next issue.

The story ends with a new arc for the old man, which Beto picks up towards the end of the issue.

First, there's the Petra and Fritz story. It starts with the two sisters bicker-bantering about Petra's bungling of her marriage (daughter Venus wants to go live with her step-dad, directly following up Beto's Venus stories in New Love), but then it turns into a Fritz story. Specifically about her being a therapist whose male patients obsess over her and her having multiple lovers. Including some married ones, who are also obsessed, and some asshole ones. They're obsessed too. It's a good story, with a surprising finale and punchline.

It's a "Nights and Days in the Life" type story. Real good.

Though it's nothing compared to the next story, an absolutely phenomenal all-action one for Petra and Venus. Venus is late for an appointment, and Petra keeps screwing up trying to get her there. First, Petra swam too long, which screwed up their leave time but also got her a little pool-loopy. So she takes the wrong pills and maybe puts in the wrong contacts and eats the wrong food, and on and on. Venus has to mother her mom all the while, culminating in Beto doing this phenomenal flash forward.

It's also the funniest story in the comic, though Petra is being a really crappy parent. No wonder Venus wants to go live with her step-dad, which Beto brings up in this story, tying it to the previous one. It's probably his best art in the issue. The expressions (mostly glares) are absolutely fantastic.

The next story is an incredibly packed three pages; it's a Guadalupe story, but it starts with Doralis and her semi-plans to come out on her kids' show. Various cast members talk about the potential repercussions (including Gato being a dick about it because Gato's a dick about everything), while Guadalupe realizes she's the only one of her mom's kids who isn't queer. Seemingly out of seven kids.

It's an incredibly fluid story, as Beto moves Guadalupe from scene to scene, conversation to conversation. What's so impressive is how much personality and how many characters Beto fits into each scene. The supporting cast all gets something to do, sometimes just sight gags, sometimes full jokes—Casimira's bit is awesome–before a comedic but empathic conclusion. Beto's plotting is superb.

The last interior comic is a one-pager catching up with Gorgo after the first story. He's getting ready to do a piece of work and ruminates on Fritz's relationship with Pipo's son, Sergio. It's a nice, short strip with the right amount of sentimentality and bite.

Then there's a color strip on the back cover. Sight gags and absurdist comedy for Fritz and Casimira.

It's another excellent issue. The way Beto breaks up and layers the various concurrent arcs is sublime.

If the first issue is any indication, Luba is going to be an anthology series. Now, obviously, the first issue may not be any indication. I think creator Gilbert Hernandez stuck to the anthology format for all of New Love, the first Love and Rockets sequel, and a Luba prequel. Venus, who Beto focused on for lots of New Love (she even got her own strip), has more to do in this issue of Luba than any of Luba’s kids or grandkids. And Beto’s continuing the arc from that series for Venus; she’s still recovering from mom Petra’s divorce from her stepdad.

Luba takes place sometime after that series, with Luba in the United States with guardian Gorgo (“The Old Man”) trying to make sure her family’s safe to come over. Specifically, husband Khamo, who doesn’t actually appear in this issue. Luba talks about a recurring dream she’s got with Khamo, and he’s constantly on her mind, but otherwise, he doesn’t appear.

The first story is a very Beto piece with Luba—stark nude, with hammer, in her dream sequence to start—having an uncanny experience, then telling Gorgo about it. Gorgo has called in a favor with the mob to get Luba’s family out of danger. When Luba goes to meet with a contact, it’s at the location of the recurring dream. Beto winds past and present threads together (Gorgo and Khamo) while it’s all building to the future. It’s a great opening, haunting but not in a bad way.

The next story catches up with Luba’s family while she’s away. She hasn’t told anyone what she’s doing (exactly), just broad strokes. It’s a big cast, with Fritzi and Venus getting the most to do (with some great Ofelia asides) before Guadalupe arrives on the last page and sort of takes protagonist.

Now, obviously, this comic’s entirely incomprehensible to anyone who’s not a Love and Rockets (and probably New Love) reader. Beto packs in the dialogue; it’s only a four-page strip, and there’s a complete arc for Venus and partial ones for Fritzi and Casimira. There have got to be at least a dozen lead characters in this issue. My only “complaint,” which the Internet completely alleviates (and wouldn’t have on Luba #1’s publication in 1998), is there’s no family tree. Beto does not care about new readers; it’s an awesome, actually justified flex, but it’s also a lot.

Casimira’s arc is just this issue; she’s worried about her mom, Luba, and Beto’s established why. It’s just this semi-arc is in the middle of a New Love sequel for Venus. And then Guadalupe’s story is a callback to Love and Rockets: Volume One, but maybe tying in New Love details. I’ll bet these read so good in trade.

Anyway.

The next strip is a one-pager where Gorgo reflects on his life protecting Luba and her family (starting with Luba’s mom). It’s a short mood piece and more tightly constrained work from Beto.

The following strip is four pages about Guadalupe introducing her friend Pipo to an ex-boyfriend, Igor, who Pipo then seduces. It’s a comedy strip—Igor’s in a sort of band with best pal, Steve, who’s musically inept and entirely unaware of it. The strip’s from Igor’s perspective, with a single aside for Guadalupe—it’s a great one, too; Beto observes literary snobs aren’t better people than non-literary snobs; it’s the loosest comic in the issue, all for fun.

The next strip is another very measured one, two pages about Doralis, one of Luba’s daughters, who’s got a popular television variety show and uses it to tell the story of younger sister Casimira losing her arm. It’s basically a check-in strip for Luba’s daughters, Doralis and older sister Maricela; they’re both queer and closeted. The Casimira bit is full of personality and less internal conflict. This comic is full of short strips you can’t believe are only a couple of a few pages. This one’s the most impressive in that regard. Beto’s a master at compact comics narrative.

The final story is a three-pager with Guadalupe narrating. It’s about Fritzi and Petra visiting Luba, who’s still working on getting the family safely into the States. This story’s the closest Beto gets to giving the reader relevant backstory (Guadalupe recounts Ofelia’s injuries, which Love and Rockets readers remember, knowing more than the characters). About a page and a half are Luba and her sisters visiting, then the full last page is Guadalupe’s narration getting the spotlight. With appropriately corresponding visuals. It all ties into Luba being away from her family too long, which is the issue’s not at all opaque theme.

It’s a simultaneously sublime and jam-packed story in a sublime and jam-packed issue. It’s an excellent start to the series; sincere and thoughtful.

There’s a one-page color strip on the back cover. No dialogue, just Ofelia and Fritzi playing with some of the kids. It’s charming. And slightly uncanny to see Beto’s characters in color.