Review by Frank Plowright
An absolute joy of the massive expansion that’s occurred in graphic novels aimed at a younger audience is a constant parade of talented creators previously unknown for comics. Add Tim Probert to that list. Almost 250 pages of gorgeous painted art make Lightfall an extremely attractive proposition even before reading Bea’s story. Probert revels in the beauty of nature, giving the woodland hosting much of the book’s first half a bright autumnal look, yet also with slightly unsettling touches through the use of different colours, such a floating blue type of strawberry. The prevalence of different intelligent species further displays that, and Probert can also be subtle, as to all intents and purposes Bea looks human, but only has three fingers on each hand.
On Bea’s world light only breaks through to a few areas of the surface referred to as the Lights, beyond which there’s darkness, and the basis of The Girl & the Galdurian is her quest to retrieve her old grandfather. He’s suffering from a form of dementia, and has wandered off after recalling it’s his task to ensure an ancient seal remains intact. Except he no longer remembers where it is. Fortunately Bea has met Cad, a Galdurian, which is a surprise as his race is known to be extinct. He’s a friendly soul, though, and his considerable strength is useful, as punctuating scenes with Bea are sinister interlude sections of something nasty, shown by Probert in smaller panels surrounded in black.
Younger readers won’t be aware that the quest is so common to fantasy fiction, but the value of a story is in the telling, and Probert tells Lightfall well. Bea is likeable from the start, resolute and resourceful without being certain, and Probert surrounds her with eccentrics. Cad is perpetually cheerful, Grocha is grouchy, and after meeting Kipp the Rat Thief for the first time, you know you’ll be seeing him again. The dangers are imaginatively conceived, and imaginatively resolved and readers can follow Bea’s journey by referencing the map at the start.
The Girl and the Galdurian would be very satisfactory if produced by a lesser artist, but Probert’s skills elevate it to something special. There’s a surprise ending, continued in Shadow of the Bird.
