AURORA AND THE ORC

A resourceful girl forms an unlikely alliance with an orc.

Aurora is quick-witted and not easily rattled—which is fortunate, since she’s been tasked with showing the new kid around school. The new student is a club-carrying orc who has devoted his life to slaying 1,000 elves. Doors become portals between Aurora’s human world and the orc-and-elf realm beyond—a device that feels both low-tech and oddly effective. Humor runs throughout, ranging from physical comedy to jokes that skew more adult. The sections set in the secondary world, populated by wizards, elves, and orcs, are where the book truly comes alive. The battles in the book are surprisingly bloody (think Lord of the Rings with cartoon slapstick). Readers may wonder why Aurora’s mother seems so unbothered by the arrows that Aurora keeps bringing home—a small mystery that pays off in ways that reframe the whole story. Trondheim’s linework suits both characterizations: Aurora rendered as loose and expressive, the Orc hulking and hapless in equal measure. The muted palette gives the whole thing a pleasantly scruffy texture. The storyline holds together cohesively, though the mostly consistent panel size and layout give this French import more the sensibility of a comic strip compilation than a traditional graphic novel. Most humanoid characters are pale-skinned.

Odd yet charming; young fantasy fans with a taste for the absurd will find plenty to enjoy.