As you may have noticed from the title, I’ve prepared a list, actually two lists, of my favorite comics and books I read this year. And when I say this year, I hope the first paragraph made that clear. I should also mention that the order I chose is entirely personal and subjective, nothing more. There’s no “better” or “worse” here. What follows are not lengthy reviews either. My aim is simply to give you a sense of what each work is about, so you can get an idea before moving on to the next. Not all of them were published this year, as you’ll see from the dates, but out of the hundred-plus titles I read, these are the ten (or a little more—I couldn’t resist bending the rules) that I think are really worth your attention.
Several of them you can also find discussed in longer posts.
So, with no further ado, let’s start with the comic books.
In sixth place (yes, the first cheat in this “Top 5”):
We begin with Tananarive, a French graphic novel published in 2022, written by Mark Eacersall and illustrated by Sylvain Vallée. It’s placed here not because I enjoyed it less, but because it feels like the right choice to start the list with. It’s a wonderful work, a prime example of European, specifically French, comics: emotionally charged, exploring the themes of time and the toll it takes on body and spirit, yet infused with humor. It never leans fully into irony or comedy, instead finding a subtle, balanced, and effective middle ground. Deeply human and tender, its color palette invites you in, though be prepared, it will stir your emotions and linger in your mind for days. At least, that was the effect it had on me. The story centers on Amédée, a retired notary who embarks on a journey to locate the heir of a deceased friend. Along the way, he gradually discovers that his relationship with this friend was not what he always believed, but something entirely different. It was recommended to me by a close friend, and such recommendations are always the best gifts.
In fifth place
Here we have a comic I had wanted to own for almost twenty years, and I finally managed to. I’m talking about Elektra Lives Again by Frank Miller. I can’t possibly condense all my thoughts about this work into a few lines, but I’ll try to share some of the feelings it evokes. Published in 1990, it’s a spin-off from Miller’s legendary Daredevil run, which redefined the character and left an indelible mark on the medium itself. At its core, this is about Matt’s haunting by Elektra’s presence, an unending oscillation, a descent into his personal hell, his grief over her death, and the way this loss shapes his life. The comic unfolds like a mercurial nightmare, rendered by an artist at the peak of his creative power. The hero moves through snow-covered landscapes, where white suggests absence and red embodies desire, a desire never to be fulfilled, because death separates rather than unites, no matter what some may believe. Elektra Lives Again reads like a poem, about loss, guilt, unhealed wounds, and the importance of faith in moments of despair. For me personally, it feels like the sound of walking alone across untouched snow, hands buried deep in your pockets, wrapped in your warmest clothes, moving through a familiar cityscape transformed by winter into something entirely different. And you wonder, will it stay this way forever? Thankfully, once again, Heraclitus was right.
In fourth place
Now for something more recent, with strict structure and clear intent. A brilliant crime, horror mystery, the kind you can’t forget once you’ve encountered it. I’m talking about One Hand & The Six Fingers by Ram V and Dan Watters, with art by Laurence Campbell and Sumit Kumar, published in 2024. The story is divided into two threads, alternating issues: one from the perspective of the investigator, the other from the criminal. It’s noir science fiction, futuristic and dystopian, with a strong undercurrent of horror. It explores corruption, morality, time, and identity. Visually, it’s steeped in stark contrasts, drenched in purples, blues, and reds, with shadows, plenty of shadows.
In third place
The magnificent Descender Compendium by Jeff Lemire and Dustin Nguyen, released in 2024: a sprawling 736-page epic, collecting thirty-two issues, with its sequel (Ascender) still awaiting me. An Eisner Award winner, and deservedly so, it’s a dazzling space opera, deeply human at its core, even though not only humans occupy the spotlight. All the beings portrayed, in their actions and choices, display profoundly human traits. This sweeping adventure touches on themes such as difference and acceptance, sociopolitical struggles, the weight of origin and the abuse of power, and ultimately, the fundamental right to existence. At heart, it is also an allegory for the philosophical question of change.
In second place (which could easily have been number one)
Here we have one of the best comics I’ve read in recent years: Travelling to Mars by Mark Russell and Roberto Meli (the collected edition was released in early 2025). It tells the story of Roy Livingston, a man dying of cancer who is given the chance to travel to Mars and become the first human to set foot there. His journey, and its inevitable end, is, in essence, the author’s meditation on self-knowledge, intertwined with the exploration of the universe, both inner and outer. Words like acceptance, purpose, existentialism, and faith are the ones you should keep in mind before, during, and after reading this extraordinary book.
And finally, number one
My favorite comic of the year, not because it sums up my tastes, but because it captured my mood so perfectly that reading it was a joy I now miss. I plan to return to it in a year’s time, perhaps next summer, as a kind of anniversary ritual. I’m talking about Blue Book Library Edition Vol. 1 by James Tynion IV and Michael Avon Oeming, published in 2025. This stunning oversized edition from Dark Horse Books collects Blue Book 1961 and Blue Book 1947, two standalone cases of individuals who claimed to have encountered UFOs. These are not fictional characters, but real people, though of course the creators take certain liberties in shaping their stories into a narrative. The concept behind Blue Book is essentially documentary-like: presenting two famous UFO sighting cases and immersing the reader in the conspiracies that inevitably surround such topics. What makes it truly wonderful, however, is the creators’ intent. If you pay close attention to the details, you can see the subtle hints at where they lean, whether they believe it’s all nonsense or perhaps not. They never take an explicit stance, but there’s a playful wink if you’re willing to catch it.
Now let’s move on to the top “five” books.
In sixth place
As if one book weren’t enough, I’m placing two here, two sprawling fantasy novels that are considered classics of the genre and hardly need my introduction or analysis. That’s already been done countless times and continues to be done today. I’m talking about Gardens of the Moon (1999) by Steven Erikson and The Way of Kings (2010), the first volume of Brandon Sanderson’s Stormlight Archive. After several attempts over the years, I finally reached the point where I could close both books and return them to the shelf, knowing what lay within their pages. I won’t go into details, but I couldn’t leave them out of my list, as finishing them felt like a real accomplishment. The experience of reading these novels was invaluable, and if you haven’t tackled them yet but enjoy fantasy, I’d say they are an absolute must.
In fifth place
Once again, I have two books, not out of whim this time, but because they’re connected. Both are by Jeff VanderMeer: Borne (2017) and Dead Astronauts (2019). They take place in a future ruined world and share a common denominator: a sinister presence known simply as the Company. The name speaks for itself, though not entirely, it resembles a biotech corporation with less-than-benevolent intentions. In Borne, the focus is on three figures: Rachel, her partner, and Borne, a creature that is terrifying, fascinating, and not quite one thing, it can be many, depending on the moment. Dead Astronauts stays in the same atmosphere, but VanderMeer experiments stylistically, delivering a beautiful and narratively daring work. Again, the number three returns, as three very different characters drive the story. Both novels radiate a unique atmosphere, and I read them in awe. It’s rare to encounter contemporary creations that feel so captivating and forward-looking.
In fourth place
We remain on the weird side of literature, and I say that reluctantly, because I don’t much care for labels. After all, everything is weird and nothing is weird; it all depends on the reader and their criteria. A small political aside here: if China Miéville himself ever stumbled across these lines, I doubt he would disagree. The book in question is King Rat (1998), a twisted urban fairy tale that draws on horror elements and, above all, music, plenty of music. Any novel that dives into the underbelly of London, its sewers and underground passages, instantly sets my imagination ablaze. I can hardly contain my excitement at such settings. To give a more concrete sense: the main character is Saul Garamond, alongside his friend Natasha. The antagonist is the Pied Piper, while King Rat serves as the backbone of the narrative, taking on the role of mentor. An unmissable tale.
In third place
We go further back, to 1990, with a novel not as widely known, co-written by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling: The Difference Engine. The setting is Victorian England in an alternate 19th century infused with cyberpunk and steampunk elements. The premise revolves around the creation of a kind of early computer, sparking a proto–industrial revolution grounded in plausible reality. Out of this arises a technological elite that seizes power, triggering social unrest. The central question becomes: who controls this new power, and what does it mean for the struggling masses? Alongside this backdrop, the protagonists are in search of a mysterious object—a punch card—that may hold the solution to the turmoil.
In second place
This is The Great When, the first volume (of five) in The London Quintet, published in 2024 by the one and only Alan Moore. For some time now, Moore has declared that he has retired from the world of comics, a field where he created wonders, and that he will dedicate the time he has left to novels and short stories. I can’t hide the melancholy this decision stirs in me, though I can only respect it. After all, the blessing of having such a singular figure still with us, still writing, is more than enough. So, what happens in this remarkable work of literature? Our protagonist is Dennis, a young man working in a bookshop. The setting is just after the end of World War II and before the dawn of the next decade. The mystery revolves around a fictional book, though since this is Moore, truth and lies inevitably blur into something fluid and uncertain. Another crucial character is the city itself—London—and its “magical” side, or perhaps more accurately, its alternative self. Everything plays a role here: time, place, and above all the historical trauma, since Europe, and London in particular, was left scarred and devastated by the war. The Great When is not a book you read only once; at least I couldn’t. I already plan to revisit it this autumn, certain that a second reading will reveal much more.
And finally, in first place!
My favorite book of the year: Firefall. Strictly speaking, it’s two books collected in one volume, Blindsight (2006) and Echopraxia (2014) by Peter Watts. Blindsight lays the foundation: the appearance of an alien signal and the mission of a team sent to investigate it. Among them, intriguingly, is a vampire. Their task is not only to decipher the aliens’ language but also to understand the very nature of their consciousness, a theme that runs throughout Firefall. Echopraxia shifts the focus to religion, centering on a collective called the Bicamerals, who function, to put it discreetly, as a hive mind. In this masterful work, Watts weaves together archetypal symbols, vampires, alien species, science, futurism, while probing myths, heritage, humanity’s relentless drive to know, explain, interpret, and, ultimately, to believe in something. He also confronts the questions surrounding artificial intelligence. Firefall is a complex, meticulously crafted piece of fiction, certainly not one to be read only once. It demands revisiting, rewarding the reader with each return.
And with that, we come to the end of the books and comics I’ve gathered for you during this past cycle. I hope you discovered something of interest here. It has been a richly rewarding period of reading.
May we be well, and meet again at the same time in 2026.
Until next time — be well, and keep reading.
It’s important!
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