When Swedish cartoonist Moa Romanova gets the chance to accompany her aspiring rock-star friends on their mini U.S. tour, their misadventures become the basis for her second graphic novel. Following the template of her Eisner-winning debut, Goblin Girl, the story is largely autobiographical, with Moa the lead character of her own book.
Buy Buff SoulMoa initially touches down in Hollywood, taking in the sunny vibes and connecting with her two girl friends as they put in some time in a recording studio. From there, they embark on typical 20-something free-wheeling fun, including sampling the local legal weed, ogling muscle jocks at the beach, and shopping for clothes. It’s only when they shift to Austin that the story fully kicks into gear, with the musician duo scheduled for multiple small appearances during South by Southwest but faced with filling the rest of their time between sets in a strange new city. As one of their pro-musician friends imparts before they leave SoCal: “L.A. was work, Texas will be play. And those guys play hard.”
Soon enough, the girls are experimenting with a treasure trove of illicit substances, indulging in ill-advised sexual activities, and getting injured in club fights, mercilessly ribbing each other about their misdeeds at every opportunity. Along with run-ins with the cops and an eye-opening introduction to U.S. gun culture at a shooting range, the characters remain unsettled throughout their stay, especially when one of the musicians inexplicably disappears for days, threatening their scheduled gigs. That prolonged disappearance forces Moa to finally face her feelings about some adolescent trauma and her path forward, giving the otherwise comically flighty story some tangible emotional depth. Her introspection leads to the book’s title, as their Austin house host tries to cheer her up at a low moment by telling her “you’re not weak, Moa. You might think you are, but you’re not. You’re just a thinker, and thinkers have buff souls.”
Moa’s character models are the inverse of manga characters: large bodies with tiny heads. That choice sometimes makes the characters appear more imposing than they actually are, as if they’re taking up too much space and seeming too clumsy for their proportionally smaller environments. The small heads leave less room for character expression in wide shots, but the overall effect of the uniquely formed characters is striking and aesthetically pleasing.
Her art style for the book carries a strong ‘80s-pop-art vibe, even though she was born in the ‘90s. The book is in color, but utilized so sparingly that it appears more like a black-and-white work with strategic spot color. Also, those colors adhere to a warm but subdued pastel spectrum that feels like a spiritual successor to the fine art works of Patrick Nagel, as well as hints of ‘80s-street-culture clothing brand marketing and Miami Vice. I was quite taken with the art, even as it gives the modern story a distinctly retro effect.
In only her second graphic novel, Romanova confirms her place as a master of the form. Her confident, flowing linework takes a minimalist approach for maximum effect, delivering panels that somehow feel richly detailed and fully alive without actually providing much fine detail. Her confessional, no-holds-barred writing is also lively and fully developed, with Romanova always focused on logically advancing the story, providing real substance and quite a bit of comedy to the characters’ sparse but authentic dialogue. With a relatable plot and remarkable art, Romanova delivers a winning sophomore effort that surpasses her memorable debut.
