While some manga lovers routinely cross the aisle at their local comic book store to snag the latest X-Men, others run screaming from the room at the mere mention of Magneto. I used to be one of those comic-phobe manga-philes. It wasn’t until my husband introduced me to Sandman and The Red Star that I realized the term comic book denoted a much wider range of stories and subjects than just the standard Marvel and DC superhero series.

Finding titles that resonate with my manga-loving sensibilities has been something of a challenge, however. I’m still not a Superman fan, nor do I have the desire to read all 427 permutations of the Batman myth. (Yes, I did like classic Frank Miller treatment, so please don’t flood my mailbox with hateful comments.) My guess is that there are other seasoned manga readers out there who are curious about that long wall of floppies on the opposite side of the store, but share my aversion to spandex. So from time to time, I’ll post a run-down of recent releases that might tickle the fancy of all those InuYasha, Monster, Crying Freeman, and—dare I say it?—Fruits Basket fans who’ve wondered, “Would I like Mouse Guard?” (The correct answer, by the way, is “Yes!”) Why should you take my word for it? For lack of a more elegant explanation, because this CLAMP-loving, Tezuka-worshipping, Kazuo Koike fiend likes them.

Fables: 1001 Nights of Snowfall

By Bill Willingham
DC/Vertigo; 144 pages

With so many respected reviewers singing the praises of Bill Willingham’s Fables, it’s hard for a neophyte to add a fresh perspective to the discussion. But I’ll do my best. Fables revisits favorite childhood characters—Snow White, Goldilocks, Rapunzel—and re-imagines them as refugees living and working in modern-day New York City. (Talking animals have been relegated to a private farm upstate so as not to draw unwanted attention to the Fables’ presence in the Big Apple. Given New Yorkers’ general indifference to one another, though, this seems like an unwarranted precaution.) The series documents the political intrigue and social unrest within the Fables community as they face repeated encroachment from an opponent known as The Adversary. Along the way, we’re given glimpses at famous and not-so-famous characters’ backstories: think “True Hollywood Story: Big Bad Wolf Edition” or “A&E Biography: Three Blind Mice” with flashes of wicked humor, cultural commentary, and genuine heartbreak.

The stand-alone volume Fables: 1001 Nights of Snowfall is a gorgeously illustrated riff on the Arabian Nights. Dispatched to a distant sultanate, Fabletown ambassador Snow White is imprisoned; to avoid meeting the business end of a blade, she resorts to telling the sultan stories about her fellow Fables, Scherezhade-style. Her tales range from slyly comic to Grimm-ly gruesome, and flesh out the background of Bigby Wolf, Old King Cole, the witch from Hansel and Gretel, and the Flycatcher (a.k.a. the Frog Prince). For manga lovers who don’t normally cotton to the artwork in American comics, 1001 Nights will be a revelation. DC has assembled a crack team of illustrators with distinctive styles that run the gamut from photorealism to Art Noveau. This lovely anthology reminded me of my favorite picture books—but with unmistakably adult content.

Daughters of the Dragon: Samurai Bullets

By Justin Gray, Jimmy Palmiotti, and Khari Evans
Marvel; 144 pages

My other recent comic book fixation is Daughters of the Dragon. This goofy series resurrects two minor figures from the Marvel pantheon: Misty Knight, a take-no-prisoners bounty hunter in the Tamara Dobson/Pam Grier mold, and Colleen Wing, her assistant and an expert in… wait for it… martial arts! (No!) As you can guess from the size of Misty’s ‘fro and the hilt on Colleen’s sword, these two characters trace their roots to the heyday of blaxploitation and kung fu films. Yet Justin Gray and Jimmy Palmiotti manage to shake the dust off these unpromising characters, using them to poke fun at a range of C and D-list villains and heroes from the Marvel-verse. True, the plot isn’t memorable, and our heroines deliver their karate chops while wearing some seriously impractical outfits. (Note to Marvel: tight pants do not facilitate sky-high kicks.) But Gray and Palmiotti’s crisp writing redeems the creakier elements of DOD. The dialogue is pure B-movie bliss—every threat or awkward situation is met with a perfectly-timed comeback or a tart exchange between the leading ladies. It’s pseudo-feminist escapism at its best.

Next month: Archaia Studios, home of the world’s fiercest mice and steampunk samurai—in color.