Guilty Pleasure No. 106: The Troubles of Janice (by Erich von Götha)

Posted on February 19, 2026 by Arleigh

The Troubles of Janice by Erich von Götha remains one of the most infamous works in erotic comics, a multi-volume series spanning 1987 to 1996 that draws readers into a vivid world of sadomasochistic intrigue amid the lavish decay of 18th-century England. Janice McCormick, a curvaceous young woman released from Newgate Prison, soon finds herself ensnared by the sadistic Duke Viscount Vauxhall of Nether Wallop, whose experiments in female discipline propel her through a cascade of blackmail, assassinations, and sensual escapades—from the clandestine Hellfire Club to the shimmering waterways of Venice. Serialized initially in French magazines and later compiled into albums such as Parts 1 through 4, the narrative echoes the spirit of the Marquis de Sade’s Philosophy in the Bedroom, pitting innocence against unbridled authority in panels brimming with exaggerated forms and explicit encounters that straddle the edge of terror and desire.

This series thrives squarely in guilty pleasure territory, offering a procession of BDSM scenarios tailored for indulgent, after-hours reading—Janice bound and enduring floggings, group violations, and ceremonial degradations at the hands of depraved aristocrats, clergy, and a imposing black servant named Horace, whose prominence marks the early chapters. The artwork begins with a raw, straightforward style, its stark lines accentuating phallic prominence and voluptuous contours, but evolves across the run into more refined techniques, incorporating nuanced shading, occasional full-color pages, and fluid compositions that convey genuine motion. Under the pseudonym of British artist Robin Ray, von Götha refined his craft from earlier projects like the sporadic Torrid comic of the 1980s, achieving here a theatrical intensity that elevates rote erotica into something akin to a decadent opera. Janice’s subjugation under Vauxhall builds to extravagant bacchanals, her figure a stage for boundless transgression, sustained by slender plotlines: a doomed union with Lord Mitchcombe, clerical extortion of her fortune, and a desperate flight to Venice. It delivers unvarnished pornographic fantasy, where non-consent heightens the illicit allure, interwoven with dated racism, sexism, and brutality that clash with contemporary standards.

Nevertheless, amid its sensationalism, The Troubles of Janice carries a sly undercurrent that resonates as guilty pleasure, while dedicated admirers in specialized erotica and Sadean circles regard it as elevated art for its bold dissection of dominance and moral corruption. Enthusiasts praise von Götha’s fidelity to historical particulars—powdered periwigs, flickering chambers, and rigid social strata—which grounds the excess in authenticity, recasting Janice’s sufferings as a pictorial meditation on control and yielding. The work’s longevity, evidenced by deluxe reprints into 2008 via publishers like Dynamite and Priaprism/Last Gasp, underscores this devoted following, as initial stark visuals mature into polished depictions of perspiration, anguish, and rapture rendered with technical finesse. Partnership with writer Bernard Joubert lends philosophical weight reminiscent of Sade’s justifications for indulgence, complemented by von Götha’s advertising and design heritage, which infuses each frame with compelling, voyeuristic magnetism.

The episodic structure fosters escalating drama without pause: Janice’s journey from captive to bereaved inheritor to elusive temptress parallels gothic archetypes, her physique weathering not only corporal trials but subtle emotional fissures that suggest deeper psyche amid the torment. Venetian interludes in subsequent volumes add worldly elegance, with Janice alluring period luminaries amid carnivalesque revels and canal rendezvous, a momentary reprieve prior to recapture. Visually, the shift from monochrome austerity to vivid palettes enlivens flesh tones and intensifies ominous depths. Fair assessment reveals shortcomings, however: proportions veer toward the grotesque, recurring motifs dull the initial impact, and pervasive misogyny, though fitting the fantastical milieu, borders on excess even for 1980s sensibilities. Stereotypes such as Horace’s portrayal jar in modern light, affirming its roots in London’s pre-PC erotic underbelly.

Within insular communities, such elements paradoxically enhance its stature—collectors and forums acclaim von Götha as a virtuoso of restraint, his standalone prints and mythic illustrations perpetuating the legacy, bolstered by exhibitions in Bologna and Paris that confer artistic validity. To the broader audience, it embodies quintessential guilty pleasure—discreetly concealed material that fulfills taboo yearnings sans apology. The Troubles of Janice persists by unflinchingly engaging the subconscious, compelling confrontation with shadowed impulses through line and shade. Whether approached for its carnality or its Sadean resonances, The Troubles of Janice endures as a divisive masterpiece, ideally encountered with caution.

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Guilty Pleasure No. 105: Ramba (by Rossano Rossi & Marco Bianchini)

Posted on February 17, 2026 by Arleigh

Ramba is one of those books you probably don’t proudly display on the coffee table, but you also don’t quite forget once you’ve read it. On the surface it’s an Italian erotic comic about a hyper-sexualized hitwoman, yet under all the sweat, sleaze, and gun smoke there’s a surprisingly solid crime engine humming along, which is what makes it feel like such an unapologetic guilty pleasure.

Created by Rossano Rossi and collaborators and published in English by Eros Comix in the 1990s, Ramba follows its titular assassin—loosely inspired by Italian porn star Ramba/Ileana Carisio—as she takes on murder-for-hire jobs that inevitably twist into elaborate scenarios of sex and violence. Every assignment is essentially built on a three-part rhythm: seduction, escalation, execution. Ramba beds clients, enemies, bystanders, women, men, and sometimes even corpses, and that’s not an exaggeration; necrophilia, watersports, and a running thread of sadomasochistic games are part of the fabric here. That whirl of anything-goes content is where the series earns its notoriety, but it’s also where a lot of readers will tap out, because Ramba never pretends to be tasteful or restrained.

What keeps the book from collapsing into pure shock-for-shock’s-sake is that it does, in fact, function as a crime comic in the European erotica tradition. Rossi structures most chapters as compact revenge or hit-job dramas, the kind of tight little potboilers you might see in a hardboiled anthology if you stripped out the explicit content—or, in this case, added a lot more of it. There is an internal logic to the way jobs are set up, double-crosses emerge, and Ramba problem-solves her way out of bad situations, even as she pauses mid-escape for a quick tryst in a stairwell. That constant cross-cutting between sex and violence, between carnal excess and professional precision, gives the series a strangely propulsive energy; you may not approve of what it’s doing, but it’s rarely dull.

Still, you can’t talk about Ramba without acknowledging just how aggressively transgressive it is. The book happily checks off an entire “so wrong it’s right” playbook: everybody seems perpetually horny, gender is more a preference slider than a barrier, and taboos are treated as toys to be scattered across the floor. Ramba herself will “try anything that moves,” to borrow the fandom shorthand, and the comic keeps pushing her into situations that blur consent, pain, humiliation, and pleasure to a degree that many readers will reasonably find grotesque. Some sequences—like the infamous scene where she urinates into a dying man’s mouth and then exploits his post-mortem arousal—are deliberately pitched to provoke, and they succeed perhaps a little too well.

That blend of sex and brutality is the core ethical sticking point. The series clearly wants to critique brutality against women—Ramba cannot stand seeing other women victimized and often redirects violence back at abusers—but at the same time it eroticizes that very violence, staging assaults and torture in a way that’s unavoidably titillating for its target audience. The result is an uneasy tension: on one page, Ramba is a feminist avenger cutting down misogynists, and on the next she’s participating in a scenario that looks uncomfortably like torture porn. Whether you see this as frank, messy exploration of dark fantasies or just sleaze wrapped in a wafer-thin moral fig leaf will depend entirely on your own threshold and politics.

Visually, Ramba lands much closer to craftsmanship than throwaway smut. Artists Marco Delizia and Fabio Valdambrini give the series a sharply observed, high-contrast look that elevates it beyond bargain-bin erotica. Delizia’s pages are dense with black ink, detailed anatomy, and an almost fetishistic focus on physical textures—leather, sweat, shadowed skin—which reinforces the grittier, urban crime vibe. Valdambrini, by contrast, leans into an older adventure-strip style with looser figures and more traditional shading, evoking 1940s newspaper serials updated with NC-17 sensibilities. That stylistic tug-of-war, between pulp sophistication and outright porn, mirrors the writing: the art insists on giving this material a veneer of legitimacy even when the content is at its most extreme.

Narratively, the book occasionally steps outside its grounded crime lane into fully pulp territory, dabbling in supernatural elements such as a black magic coven and demons in stories like “Vendetta From Hell.” These arcs introduce “hunting humans as sport” riffs and occult enemies that feel, frankly, like a different series wandered in from the next shelf over. On one hand, they add variety and show Ramba operating in wildly different contexts; on the other, they dilute the gritty hitwoman angle that is easily the comic’s strongest hook. When Ramba stays focused on mob bosses, crooked cops, and revenge killings, it feels like a filthy cousin to Euro-crime cinema; when it veers into demon-summoning cults, it plays more like an anything-goes anthology that happened to keep the same lead character.

For all the shock value, there is a certain honesty to how Ramba approaches sexual fantasy. It doesn’t posture as an art-house deconstruction or wrap its extremes in academic language; it stands there, naked and grinning, saying: this is what some people fantasize about when no one is looking. That directness can be disarming. You get the sense the creators understand that erotic fantasy often lives in a space that’s not meant to be aspirational or “healthy,” and they lean into that forbidden-zone appeal. If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at glossy, sanitized “sexy” comics that pretend to be above the id, Ramba feels like the brazen counterargument, all id with just enough structure to hold it together.

Of course, that’s also what makes it so specifically a guilty pleasure, even for readers who might be predisposed to like transgressive material. It is possible to admire the storytelling economy, the craftsmanship of the art, and the boldness of its content while simultaneously feeling that some sequences cross into outright mean-spirited nastiness. The books have been praised in some circles as a kind of high watermark of explicit sex comics in English—highly competent, unabashedly filthy, and influential in their niche—but that gold comes smudged with plenty of grime. If you’re not prepared to wade through the muck, you’re better off steering clear.

Ultimately, Ramba is best approached with clear eyes and a strong stomach. If you’re curious about the boundaries of 1990s European-style erotic comics, the series offers a vivid snapshot of what could be done when an imprint like Eros Comix let creators run wild, combining solid noir plotting with maximalist sexual excess. It’s exploitative, sometimes disturbingly so, but it’s also more thoughtfully constructed and visually ambitious than its lurid premise suggests. For some, it will be a hard pass; for others, it will sit firmly in that private, slightly embarrassing corner of the collection where guilty pleasures live, dusted off once in a while with a mix of discomfort and undeniable fascination.

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It’s Love, Part 12

Posted on February 14, 2026 by Dazzling Erin

Every year, I like to share some of my favorite romance comic books!

Starting in the late 1940s, many comic book companies tried to broaden their audience by publishing romance comic books. These comics told dramatic love stories in which young women had to deal with issues of cheating, divorce, jealousy, heartache, and the search for the one.

It’s Love!

What is the lesson that we can take from these vintage comic books? I think the main thing we can learn is that love is never easy.

But, even if he is a member of the establishment or has long hair, it’s totally worth it. Right, Nicky?

They sure do look happy! Happy Valentine’s Day!

Great Moments In Comic Book History #44: The Amazing Spider-Man #33

Posted on November 2, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

On what would have been Steve Ditko’s 98th birthday, let’s remember his greatest moment as the artist who first truly brought Spider-Man to life.

From The Amazing Spider-Man #33:

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The Killing Joke, Book Review by Case Wright

Posted on October 31, 2025 by casewright

This was a hard book to review. I had avoided reading it for years because there’s an SA, but also- A CLOWN! Look, clowns are out to murder you! I mean for real they are clowns – see below

Why would you think these creatures would not want to murder your face?! Yes, they have balloon animals, but that that’s just to lure you into for their feeding!
“The Killing Joke” is a Joker origin story and how he was born out of one bad day. We begin with Joker as a struggling comedian with a child on the way. He is desperate for cash and decides to participate in a heist to get out of poverty. The crooks that he teamed up with to do the heist target the Joker’s former job at a chemical plant had always planned on making him the fall guy for the heist. His wife dies by a product malfunction, sending Joker spiraling. Technically, Joker is not born until after he falls into the chemicals, but we see his name pre-Joker; so, maybe he was always Joker? I’m not sure.

The origin story is interwoven with the Joker shooting and SAing Commissioner Gordan’s daughter and generally driving him insane. There is also A LOT of nudity that I wasn’t prepared for with a fair amount of leather. Joker kidnaps Gordan, strips him nude, puts some leather on him, and then makes him look at horrify images of the SA. Honestly, why not just kill Joker? Of course, we would. We’d shoot him on sight as a terrorist. Instead of doing the normal choice and having Joker killed, Gordan wants him taken alive. WHY? Really, why? What more does he have to do? They make a point that Joker wants to show that anyone could be driven insane by one bad day, but the real insanity is not shooting all of these super villains on sight!

The book ends with a joke with the symbolism that life itself and all of the evil he committed was also a joke. It was purposefully ambiguous, but it did scare me- BECAUSE CLOWNS!

Great Moments In Comic Book History #43: The X-Men Meet Frankenstein’s Monster

Posted on October 30, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

Back in the early days of the X-Men, before Wolverine and Nightcrawler and Storm, when the comic book was an acclaimed but perennial low seller, the X-Men celebrated 1967’s Halloween by meeting Frankenstein’s Monster!

He wasn’t actually the Monster. He was a robot who looked like the film version of the Monster and he was destroyed by the end of X-Men #40. Still, this was the first reference to Frankenstein in the Marvel Universe. The “real” Monster would officially join the Marvel Universe a few years later.

Cover art by George Tuska, Marie Severin and Sam Rosen

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Great Moments In Comic Book History #42: Tomb of Dracula #27

Posted on October 23, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

Of all the Marvel horror comics that were published in the 70s, Tomb of Dracula was the best. Not only did it have the best stories, the best villain, and the best supporting cast (Blade, Hannibal King, Rachel van Helsing, Doctor Sun, and many others) but it also had the best covers.

Tomb of Dracula #27 (first released on September 3rd, 1974) is one of my favorites. Gil Kane’s cover features Dracula, fire, a beautiful woman, a beast in the moon, and a melodramatic tag line. What more could a comic boom reader ask for?

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Horror Comics Review: Evil Ernie

Posted on October 20, 2025 by Arleigh

Evil Ernie’s legacy began with two key comic series that deeply shaped his character and cemented his place in horror comic history. Firstly, the original Evil Ernie mini-series, published in 1991 by Eternity Comics, introduced readers to Ernest Fairchild—a tortured, telepathic boy whose severe abuse and trauma spiraled into the transformation that birthed Evil Ernie. This five-issue series laid the foundation for the character’s dark mythology, blending psychological horror with supernatural violence and heavy metal influences. Here, Ernie’s pact with Lady Death and the introduction of his iconic “Smiley” button set the tone for his psychotically violent crusade against humanity, portraying him as a vengeful, undead antihero fueled by rage and heartbreak.

Following the original run, the Chaos! Comics imprint expanded on Ernie’s mythos with significant titles like Evil Ernie: Resurrection and Youth Gone Wild. These series pushed the narrative further into apocalyptic territory, showcasing Ernie’s increasing power, his undead army, and the world-spanning consequences of his rampage. Resurrection delved into Ernie’s return from death with amplified powers, setting the stage for his global campaign of destruction. Youth Gone Wild, evokes the rebellious spirit captured both visually and thematically, tying Ernie’s anger and chaos to a larger cultural moment reflective of 1990s heavy metal and punk ethos.

Crucially, the role of Lady Death in these series cannot be overstated. Initially a spectral figure who offers Ernie the love and acceptance he craves in exchange for his violent pledge, Lady Death evolved into the defining character of the Chaos! Comics universe. Her complex origins as the mortal Hope, betrayed and transformed into the queen of Hell, give the stories emotional depth and mythic resonance. Her “bad girl” gothic aesthetic and tragic backstory resonated powerfully with fans, propelling her to overshadow even Ernie himself in popularity and cultural impact.

Evil Ernie’s narrative and character design were heavily influenced by the prevailing heavy metal and splatter punk subcultures of the time. His wild hair, leather attire, and violent, nihilistic persona echoed the sonic aggression and rebellious imagery of bands like Slayer and Overkill, who also explored themes of alienation, death, and wrath. This cultural synergy imbued the comics with an authenticity that attracted a dedicated fanbase attuned to these genres. The explicit violence and body horror scenes showcased the splatter punk influence, pushing boundaries in graphic storytelling to depict raw, unapologetic gore that underscored Ernie’s tragic antiheroism.

The Evil Ernie series was more than just a comic about zombies and destruction; it was a cultural artifact infused with the angst, aggression, and rebellion of ‘90s youth subcultures. It forged a new path in horror comics by blending psychological trauma, supernatural terror, and social outcast narratives while crafting a mythos that was both cosmic and personal. The enduring popularity of Ernie, alongside characters like Lady Death and Purgatori, validated Brian Pulido’s vision and solidified a franchise that remains influential in horror and dark fantasy comics.

In summary, the original Evil Ernie mini-series set the brutal, tragic tone that defines the character, while subsequent series like Resurrection and Youth Gone Wild expanded his mythic scope, fueled by a unique fusion of horror, metal, and punk. Lady Death’s rise within these narratives added emotional complexity and gothic grandeur that enriched the universe Pulido created, creating a layered, compelling world that still captivates cult fans today. Together, these series and characters have left an indelible mark on horror comics, affirming the powerful cultural interplay between music, graphic storytelling, and dark fantasy.

Great Moments In Comic Book History #41: Tomb of Dracula #41

Posted on October 11, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

For my money, the original Tomb of Dracula is still the best horror comic to ever show up at a newsstand. From 1975, The cover of Tomb of Dracula #41 is a classic. Credit for this goes to Gene Colan, Tom Palmer, and Gaspar Saladino.

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Get In The Mood For Halloween With These Horrifying Comic Covers!

Posted on October 7, 2025 by Dazzling Erin

Once upon a time, horror comics were all the rage. In the 1950s, impressionable young readers were told scary stories by hosts with names like The Cryptkeeper and The Old Witch, and the Vault-Keeper. That all changed when Congress got involved and held a series of hearing on whether or not horror comics were leading to juvenile crime. All of the horror comics were canceled and the comic book industry agreed to tone things down with the Comics Code.

Trying to suppress horror comics only made them even more popular amongst readers and collectors. Who could have seen that coming? Teachers and juvenile court officers may have hated them in the 50s but now, they’re some of those most valuable comics around. Here are a few classic covers from the 50s horror comic era.