Written by Erin Jameson Monday, 28 November 2011 22:17
This week, Lovefool tackles a universal romance, one as concerned with gunfights and intrigue as it is with its characters innermost feelings: Terry Moore's Strangers in Paradise.

Strangers In Paradise, Moore's sprawling wonder, is the book that is universally recommended to people who “aren't into comics” and is championed by such nerd rock stars as Neil Gaiman, who is quoted on the first volume of The Complete Strangers in Paradise and sums it up neatly with “What most people don't know about love, sex, and relations with other human beings would fill a book. Strangers in Paradise is that book. I have long suspected that what people did in private was much funnier than it ever was erotic. Terry Moore obviously thinks so too. Strangers in Paradise is a delightful new comic, and Terry Moore is a fun writer and a fine cartoonist.”
But that's not all there is to Strangers in Paradise. I mean, sure, all of that is in there and it's quite a thriller but Neil's right: this book is about relationships. It's about how we throw them and each other away, only to realize that something's not quite right and we need to fix it. It's about figuring out where we are and where we're going and how to get there. It's about accepting a little (or a lot of) help from your friends and, more importantly, deciding what kind of person you're going to be. Are you going to be a weird S&M call girl who steals political secrets and occasionally hurts someone real bad, or are you going to have a house in New Mexico with the pretty-but-slightly-plump innocent next door? Are you going to be the pretty-but-slightly-plump innocent next door who is a doormat for beautiful men who are dangling the American Dream in front of you? Will you give up your soul for your creepy sister and help her keep her scary crime empire running smoothly?
More importantly, isn't it super-cool that this comic about girls and boys and their feelings about each other has gunfights? Strangers in Paradise is truly universal in that you don't have to pick—there's discussions about art and talking about feelings and then someone tries to kill someone or busts a few noses. It's nonstop drama for two issues and then a simple conversation at a diner that ends with someone in the rain. Terry Moore is a master of pacing and his artwork is jaw-dropping. His sad moments are sad without descending into melodrama (unless melodrama is called for), his happy moments are infectious, and the questions he asks—no matter how outlandish the context or how dramatic the outcomes—are questions that we all ask ourselves. We all recognize some version of these situations. (Well, maybe not the one where you have to bring down your former madam and girlfriend's crime empire. I'm, umm, not very familiar with that one.)