Fancy a break? Then why not check into Spa, Erik Svetoft’s debut graphic novel. OK, so the sauna is best avoided, the mineral bath will almost certainly bring you out in hives, and the masseur, shirtless and prancing, is on the creepy side. And please, don’t even think about ordering room service! But having visited myself, I feel certain you will find a stay … invigorating. This is The White Lotus as rewritten by Charles Burns (Black Hole, X’ed Out), a combination I believe to be better for the average comic-lover’s morale than any number of toxin-busting facials.
Svetoft’s fictional five-star resort, somewhere in northern Europe, exists to provide so-called “wellness” treatments to the rich, the famous and the bone idle. But if it is extremely luxurious – the kind of place that sets great store by its towels, which must only ever be used once – it’s also highly sinister. In its maze of corridors, a black liquid slowly oozes, its source unknown, its creep utterly resistant to the army of uniformed staff whose job it is to deliver daily sanitary perfection. This horrible discharge is, of course, a symbol of the corruption and moral turpitude of the hotel’s guests; their own various exudations are hardly any more pleasant. However, it’s just one of several horror shows about to come our way. Everyone and everything in the spa is rotting, and no scented candle can possibly disguise the stench.
