Jenny Finn by Mike Mignola
A Lovecraftian tale of a turn-of-the-century (the nineteenth) fisherman fresh into London, who encounters a bizarre girl on the diseased streets.
This is exactly the sort of thing I like – shades of Lovecraft, Ripper-lore, and just enough steampunk to make me happy. Sadly, as much as I hate to say it, I couldn’t get past the art. In all of the comics I’ve written about, I don’t think I’ve mentioned the art once, because normally I take it for what it is: helps if it’s good and suits the story, but if it doesn’t, so be it. But the art on Jenny Finn is just bad. It makes the story harder to read than necessary, and ruins all attempts at evoking the atmosphere that Mignola seems to have been going for. (Oddly, Mignola’s art itself would have been perfect for this – I’ve got to wonder why he farmed it out to someone else…)