Chaos in Paper City

Chaos in Paper City

Comics · 192 pages · Published 2024-06-18 · Avg 4.3★ (6 reviews)

Without steel towers, without digital lifelines, without the guild that once protected them... Paper City still refuses to burn. Exploding from the disastrous event called the Great Tear, a new corner of the Pulpedverse unfurls—creased, ink-slick, and razor sharp. In avenues paved with flyers and facades stitched from posters, headlines flutter like birds and every cut can be fatal.

Mara Lin was not raised by the Archivists of the High Stacks. As an infant she was tossed into the Recycle Chutes beneath Mill 13 and claimed by the Guild of Shredders, enemies of memory and mercy. Darkness and machinery did not grind her down; they honed her—tempered by conveyor fire, rooftop duels over Bleedside, and gutter magic whispered by linotype ghosts into the city's most impossible blade.

Now the surface calls. Armed with a bone-folder saber, wax-seal knuckles, a brass awl, and gauntlets that bleed demon ink, Mara returns to reclaim a name and a neighborhood. Her mission looks less like peace and more like justice: unmask the Scissor King of Cutbank Row, topple Baron Staple and his Penthouse Press in Origami Heights, and confront the one who made her—Mother Guillotine. Between newsprint fog and guttering neon, if the map will not open for her, she will crease a new one.

Eisner-nominated writer Jack Hamilton teams with breakout artist Rosa Del Valle to slice a brand-new urban myth from scratch—neon noir colliding with print-shop sorcery and kinetic, paper-cut action. Collects Chaos in Paper City #1–6.

Born in 1984 in Glasgow, Jack Hamilton is a comics writer and letterer based in Portland, Oregon. After a decade running a basement print shop and making zines, he broke out with the cult mini Ink Prophet from Brass Harbor in 2017, followed by the cyberpunk caper Static Choir in 2020. His work blends blue-collar craft, folklore, and high-concept action, earning Ignatz and Eisner nominations. He teaches narrative design workshops, consults for small presses, and remains unreasonably devoted to temperamental Risograph machines.

Ratings & Reviews

Marta Quiñones
2025-08-20

Para lectores de 15+ que disfrutan fantasía urbana con estética industrial y acción clara. El lenguaje visual es denso pero legible; no se pierde en ornamento.

Advertencias: violencia con armas blancas, sangre estilizada, explotación laboral sugerida, fanatismo de culto mencionado, ansiedad por ruido de máquinas. No hay contenido sexual explícito. Recomendado para clubes de cómic que quieran hablar de memoria, clase y ciudad.

Owen McCracken
2025-06-12

Chaos in Paper City keeps asking who controls memory and who gets shredded. Labor versus aristocracy, craft versus extraction, and a woman deciding she is more than the machinery that made her.

Best of all is the credo that when the map will not open, she'll "crease a new one". That defiant ethic turns neon noir into a blueprint for self-authorship, and the art inks it with heat.

Soraya Bell
2025-03-29

As a fast-moving urban myth, here is how it nets out for pacing and plot.

  • Quick, clean hook in the Great Tear aftermath
  • Early escalations in Bleedside and Cutbank Row land hard
  • Mid-arc breather in Origami Heights is welcome; stakes keep tightening
  • Final setup promises confrontation without cheap cliff bait
Glen Morita
2025-01-10

Mara Lin is both blade and binder, a survivor trained to erase and now trying to archive herself. Her voice toggles between gallows humor and hard promises, and the way she names her enemies sounds like recataloging a life that was stolen.

Even the offstage figures feel pressurized: Mother Guillotine as a looming origin, the Scissor King as a rumor that cuts, and Baron Staple as brittle wealth. Dialogue has grit without swagger, and the quiet beats let the city scrape against her choices.

Arjun Patel
2024-08-15

Collected as issues 1-6, the arc reads like a clean cut through dense stock. Hamilton scripts with sharp captions; Del Valle composes pages that snap from claustrophobic machinery to open avenues, using gutters as timing rather than empty space. Some mid-chapter transitions are abrupt, but the rhythm rebounds quickly and the lettering for ghost-whispers is a subtle treat.

Leah Montrose
2024-07-02

Paper City lives and cuts and rustles with a noise I could feel in my ribs. Hamilton and Del Valle fling us into avenues paved with flyers and skyscrapers quilted from posters, and it all feels dangerous, clever, alive.

I swear I could smell hot ink and rain.

The lore is outrageous in the best way: headlines flutter like birds, linotype ghosts mutter shop-prayers, and every crease has a cost.

Mara's kit is a hymn to print-shop craft, from the bone-folder saber to those demon-ink gauntlets, and the fights slice across panels like paper cuts that finally draw blood.

Bleedside duels, Origami Heights glitter, the High Stacks brood; I kept lingering on textures while the story roared forward.

By the time the Scissor King and Baron Staple are on her list, I was cheering out loud, because this city refuses to burn and I want to watch it refuse again.

Yes, please!

Generated on 2025-09-07 01:03 UTC