I first discovered Bhanu Pratap’s work back in the pages of Fantagraphics’ NOW anthology. As all the best anthologies are, NOW has always been an excellent introductory point to exciting new talents, alongside the work of long established creators. In turn, that led me to Pratap’s short collection Dear Mother & Other Stories from Strangers Publishing. His distinctive, angular artwork and shifting use of perspective marked him out as a creator to keep tabs on. Fantagraphics clearly recognised that vision with Cutting Season, a longer collection of his short stories, being published as part of their Fantagraphics Underground line in 2024.
Cutting Season is a compilation of sixteen tales of varying length in a hardcover format, coming in at just under 100 pages of comics. The immediate observation to make about the book is that it’s less about narrative and more about the experience; about immersing yourself in the peculiarities of Pratap’s visual language rather than always dissecting it for absolute objective meaning. Theme and emotion are our connective guides here in appreciating the depth of the artist’s work, with the intensity of our reactions to each story being of greater importance than rigid definition.
Abstraction and body horror are near-constants, as embodied in the elastic fluidity of the experiences of the protagonist of ‘Toddling Towers’, wherein almost ritualistic physical impairment, pain, and bizarre dreamscapes converge. Or in ‘Groaning’ where the invasive becomes the welcomed. Some tales invite us to project our own meaning onto them, like ‘Anvil’ where cartoon-like violence and visual metaphor may represent life’s sudden, dramatic turns for the worse.
Pratap is as at home using eerie colour as he is at employing stark black and white to complement the mood and atmosphere of each offering. In ‘Sediment’, for example, which can be interpreted as conveying ideas of isolation and identity, a carefully restricted palette increases a sense of claustrophobia. Whereas in ‘Engine’ stripped back b&w layouts emphasise the alternating sequences of explosive action and quiet reflection at their most primal and mercurial.
Much of the work in here is wordless but there are a number of stories that employ dialogue or narration too, blending often nihilistic observation with those distorted, grotesque panels in a perfect synthesis. Echoes of the futile and our helplessness in the face of the inevitable abound, notably in the title story. Cutting Season is a fascinating, often morbid, sometimes resigned, and occasionally weary collection of work that defies easy discussion, and Pratap remains one of the most intriguing newer voices to make his mark on the medium in recent years.
Bhanu Pratap (W/A) • Fantagraphics Underground, $29.99
Review by Andy Oliver
