As someone who was largely out to lunch when Neal Gaiman and friends conquered the world of mainstream comics with their darkly romantic fantasy GNs, I'm not the best man to play "Spot the Sandman Swipe" with Mike Carey & John Bolton's God Save the Queen (Vertigo). As a result, I'm forced to take this much-maligned new graphic novel hardcover in isolation, which may or may not work to the book's advantage. Still, any comic that utilizes the Sex Pistols' legendary anti-anthem as its title and thematic underpinning has got my attention, at least, so let's take our own look-see, okay?

Set in modern times, Queen focuses on a thought-free rebel London teen-girl named Linda, who falls in with an ultra-bad crowd: a group of banished faeries addicted to a blend of heroin and a very specific type of blood (the very fact of its specificity gives away several pertinent plot points). Linda's matronly mom Ava has apparently been pining ever since her husband left her, so without any clear-cut matriarchal influence, our heroine pushes her readymade victim friend Jeff into the world of hard-core drug abuse. (Bye, Jeff!) When the oh-so-pretty vacant faeries run out of "red horse," they bring our heroine to the border between our world and the land of faerie – where, of course, they ultimately abandon her. Within this realm, the haggish Queen Mab is seeking out the last servants loyal to deposed Queen Titania, who has also been banished to North London. Of course, the first creature Linda comes across is a fugitive servant of Queen Titania.

The highly addictive red horse, we ultimately learn, is being given to the drugee faeries by one of Mab's servants, Puck, as means of keeping the banished creatures in check. (Reading this aspect of the storyline, I couldn't help thinking back to the old left wing conspiracy theories which declared that the drug epidemic was largely the result of the CIA's attempts at decimating the black urban community.) Linda returns to North London to learn – to no one's amazement – that her mother Ava is not all she seems. A big Faeryland battle ensues, with mother and daughter in the front lines. When it's over, Linda says piss-off to the drugee faeries back in London.

Not an unfamiliar fantasy tale, but, then, plenty of familiar fantasies have made – and will continue to make – decent entertainments. If only Carey weren't so heavy-handed with his plotting: when you see a close-up of the christening spoon that was given to Linda by her missing father, you know it'll play a role in the big climax (and it does). When Linda comes to the wrong conclusion about her heritage after her first visit to Faeryland, we immediately know she's barking up the wrong branch of the family tree. To be sure, being one step ahead of the story's protagonist can be fun if that's the writer's intent (it's one of the central pleasures in P.G. Wodehouse), but Carey treats each revelation as if it's a big surprise for the reader. Ummm, no.