A summary wouldn’t do this collection of varieties of domestic disturbance any justice, and of course a parody, as tempting as that might be, would be impossible to do right. To read Lutz is to enter an unfamiliar world tinged uncomfortably with the real. Or more prosaically, the other way around: a real world that’s just… off. Kinked, somehow.
I’m coming to this stellar collection rather late. I read Bone when it was coming out in comic book form — I started a little late, but I was picking it up regularly in the early ’90s — and became a huge fan of the title, even tracking down a copy of Disney Adventures when one of the rat-tails stories made an appearance. When my daughter was born about a decade later, figures of the Bone cousins looked down on her crib from the bookshelf above. (Ok, maybe not literally — like I’d have books right over her bed.)