High fantasy and folklore/mythology have always been double-edged
golden Swords of Grondur for comic books. It really all depends on how
much you take from them, and then how you use that much. Marvel has
been able to produce great decades-spanning success with Thor – and in
turn revitalized people and pop culture’s interest in (Norse) mythology
– as well as recently with (Incredible) Hercules. DC took a more
minimal route with Wonder Woman, a cornerstone of the company’s
superhero trinity. Mignola owes his entire career to the entire career
to the stuff of legends and myths. Then there are those – Frank
Frazetta, for instance –  that use gods and goddesses as little more
than models and subject matter, as they illustrate  cheesecake that is
worthy of the feasts in Valhalla.

Lillim seems to tread somewhere along the former (Marvel) and the latter.

The synopsis, as stated in the tagline, is a simple one; a certain
Asgardian falls out of favor with the gods (and himself) and descends
down into present-day Midgard (i.e. Earth) to seek sanctuary and
possibly redemption. However, the present day is a strange one to
someone who been stuck in the Middle Ages aesthetic for millennia. The
story leaves us with a bonding relationship between a god and a doctor,
which will inevitably be the focal point of this book.

…okay, I know what you’re thinking, but listen:

Unlike
Marvel’s spin on that logline, Lapacek & Keiser have taken a much
more traditional direction. The God of Thunder – who, I should mention
at this point, is NOT the main character – is a ginger who is stern and
aggressive. A certain mischievous one neither wears large golden horns,
nor does he look like a heroin addict in a Riddler suit that lacks
question marks. The catch is, there are some other mythologies thrown
in here either for sport or the sake of confusion; Loki is also going
under the name of Prometheus, and the doctor was apparently the mother
of all creation. Oh, and the story seems to jump from flashback to
present to older flashback to present to
not-so-old-but-I-still-couldn’t-place-it-on-a-timeline old to the
present and so on.

Let’s not get silly things like plot and story structure and historical
accuracies in the way of what is really the driving force of this book:
the art. Oh, great Odin’s ravens, this is such a beautiful book. Simply
that. I think I am now beginning to understand why people will bear the
terrible writing of The Hulk & Rulk Show to drool over Cho’s and
McGuiness’ work. I have no idea who this Matrix guy is – I’m guessing
that’s the point – but he is indeed the Chosen One for a book like
this. The only complaint I really have is that the female protagonist,
in both of her incarnations, seems to have a case of dollface; her
features seem too spaced out, and her expressions stiff and unreal.
Besides that, I could eat the art it’s so good.

Unless you don’t have an interest in vikings and manly gods and boobs
and medieval violence, I wouldn’t recommend this book to you. For the
rest of you? Go hunt this one down.