Human Capital, by Moro Rogers (Nakra Press) | reviewed by Stephen Theaker

In the early 21st century, automation went into high gear and robots took over the menial jobs. Then they took over all the other jobs as well, and almost everyone became unemployed: this was known as the “indescribable allusion disaster”. Universal basic income and free housing softened the blow, but if people don’t find a way to make themselves useful the robots encourage them to exist a little bit less. The three most popular options for the survivors are to become artists, swamis or heirs.

Nttl was born a few years after the disaster, and chose the life of an artist. He used to be part of the Poisonous Plant Collective (hence his name, pronounced “nettle”). Since they disbanded, Nttl has struggled on with his painting, Manchineel is extremely successful, Jessamine is part of the Meconium Group, entrusted by the robots with the power to decide the human race’s future, and Upas became an art terrorist: he just blew himself up in an aquarium with a William Morris-patterned artisanal bomb, killing several fish and two humans besides himself.

Nttl is more concerned with the uninspired paintings he can’t sell on Listy. But after a successful streetfight versus the Nenuphar Rouges gang, he visits their leader’s home to find him dead with an exploded head. Nttl steals something weird and blue from the house, and it comes with instructions: rehydrate and put on head. The psychedelic experience that follows inspires a painting that sells instantly to a new patron, but everyone now wants what he has: other artists, former colleagues, and the Ethiopian order that previously guarded it for centuries.

I’ve read about 75 graphic novels, manga books and bandes dessinées so far this year, and this was by far the best of them, so it was astonishing if not an actual art crime to see it had zero readers on Goodreads. In an afterword the writer/artist says she began the book in 2016, after having a baby, and worked on it for thirty-five minutes a day while the baby had his naps. She didn't know when she began the book how soon it would be that "machines would be able to produce vast quantities of mediocre art", and yet it feels extremely topical. How do we find meaning in a world where computers can do almost everything better than us?

The book explores this in the course of an old-fashioned thrilling adventure, with intriguing mysteries, oodles of imagination, and plenty of humour – the various art gangs are hilarious (e.g. the Brutalists, wearing concrete blocks), and both Nttl’s pet screen and his long-suffering friend Robbie made me chuckle. When it gets serious it hits hard, such as the heartbreaking scene when we meet Nttl’s grandmother, in the attic of his family’s home, drugged to the edge of existence by the robots, remaining merely to consume the work of others, since she can no longer create her own.

The book’s wonderful artwork, a mix of black and white, two-colour and full colour art, is expressive, dynamic, surprising and full of life, especially during the brawls and visions, but even when showing something as simple as Jessamine scooping goop up into a jar. It had the feel of storyboards and animatics, and it would barely have been a surprise to see it literally start moving on the page. Full colour is mostly saved for the big reveals and big moments, such as when Nttl and Robbie find a fortune teller, adding immensely to their impact.

The book is currently included in Kindle Unlimited, so there’s no excuse for not reading it, and it is also available in print from the author’s website, https://nakrapress.bigcartel.com/. My only criticisms would be that the Kindle version isn't set up with panel by panel reading (though to be fair the same is true of nearly all manga), and that most of the ebook pages have huge white margins, which squashes the artwork into a needlessly small space, even on a Kindle Scribe. But no rational person would let that stop them reading such a marvellous graphic novel. *****