I always find Valente interesting to read: she's an author whose diversity of genres leaves the reader wondering how her voice is going to come through so distinctly despite the ping-ponging of topics.
And of course it always does.
This can make her a bit niche; her writing is always powerful in its fullness rather than its spareness and you have to like that (i.e. not buy into the idea that the fact that most people use adverbs badly doesn't make them inherently bad). Valente knows description and her descriptions here are the whole story. Since we know what is going to happen in every story and, depending on our familiarity with the comics in question, can map every beat of the story, the narrative lands or falls based on the descriptions.
I think it lands every time, although I am probably like the worst reader. I know just enough about comics that I spend the whole time trying to figure out who Valente is referring to without knowing enough to appreciate every parallel.
Except Pauline's story. Oof.
The problem with a story of descriptions and a story about the stories we tell is that it just...sits there. The purpose of speaking is the speech-act itself and the resolution of the story is knowing that the story is told. The Refrigerator Monologues doesn't GO anywhere because, in its writing, it already went there. This does rather mess with one's sense of arc and resolution.