<EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">American Splendor artist Neufeld beautifully depicts the lives of seven New Orleans residents who survived Hurricane Katrina. In the dialogue-free opening chapter, “The Storm,” Neufeld powerfully intersperses images of the hurricane gathering speed with the cities it crippled when it hit Louisiana on August 29, 2005, specifically New Orleans and Biloxi, Miss. Readers are then introduced to seven New Orleans residents, from all walks of life and parts of the city. Denise and her family—mother Louise, niece Cydney and Cydney’s daughter, R’nae—join thousands of hungry and thirsty New Orleanians waiting to be evacuated after their apartment is destroyed. Leo, the publisher of a local music zine, and Michelle, a waitress, reluctantly leave the city for Houston and are devastated when their apartment (and Leo’s impressive comics collection) is flooded. Other characters flee, or try unsuccessfully to ride out the storm. Neufeld’s low-key art brings a deeply humanizing element to the story. Though the devastation caused by the hurricane and the government’s lackluster response are staggering, Neufeld expertly underscores the resilience of the people who returned to rebuild their lives and their city. <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">(Aug.)

Graphic artist Neufeld paints an emotive portrait of New Orleans during and after Hurricane Katrina, as seen through the eyes of seven of the city's citizens. The opening panels coalesce into a long cinematic pan, a thrumming setup for the disaster. The half-page and quarter-page panels—satellite views of weather patterns and close inspections of neighborhoods—are crisp, and the two-page spreads are softly focused. There are no spoken words for the ominous first 25 pages; gathering winds and lashing waters propel the narrative. Thereafter, the braided story of seven people involved in the events—three tell of their exodus and the after-effects, four ride out the storm and its wake at home—provides an intimate appreciation of their frazzled emotional states in response to varied tribulations. This is a Hydra-headed, daily-mounting experience in political malfeasance—Neufeld explores FEMA's failures, the menacing presence of the Army and police and the ineptitude of the government—spontaneous social engineering (tough guys distributing looted goods to the people stuck at the Convention Center and maintaining order), alienation of those who evacuated ("I think I could've stayed longer. I kinda felt like I wussied out") and the kindness of strangers. There's also plenty of misery, from the terror of the storm and the rising waters to the merciless heat and stink in the days after, with little potable water, food or medical supplies. Neufeld's words and images are commensurable and rhythmic, and the vernacular is sharp. Bristling with attitude and pungent with social awareness.