Space opera is a bit like pornography (bear with me here)…As the old legal formulation goes, you can’t exactly define it, but you know it when you see it. True, there’s perhaps no other genre that inspires quite as much passionate disagreement among fans about what exactly makes a space opera a space opera, but…but you know it when you see it.

Though these eight comics and graphic novels vary wildly in tone and style, they all share a unique sense of adventure only found in truly great space operas.

Valérian and Laureline, by Pierre Christian and Jean-Claude Mézières

It’s timely, what with the new Luc Besson adaptation due out soon, but it’s also legitimate. Valérian and Laureline ran for over 40 years, from 1967 to 2010, and is huge in Europe. It’s only obscure on this side of the Atlantic because of limited availability of English translations until just a couple of years ago. The title pair are spatio-temporal agents, he from the future, she from the past, traveling in time and space at the behest of the Terran Galactic Empire. He’s brave but stolid, while she’s the brains of the operation, frequently questioning orders she finds to be immoral. As the series goes on, writer Pierre Christian’s stories dig deeper into humanist, feminist, and anti-authoritarian themes, while artist Jean-Claude Mézières produced decades of what’s simply some of the most stunning art in the history of comics: lush, colorful, cheeky, and lived-in. Indeed, fans of a somewhat better known space opera, Star Wars, will recognize much of the look and feel of that universe in this one.

Southern Cross, by Becky Cloonan, Lee Loughridge, and Andy Belanger

Becky Cloonan and artist Andy Belanger’s ongoing series stars Alex Braith, who books passage aboard the oil tanker Southern Cross, headed to Saturn’s giant moon Titan to collect her recently deceased sister’s body and possessions (yes, we’re still using oil in the future). It goes about as smoothly as you might expect. This one is space opera crossed with mystery and a bit of horror, as Alex discovers the death of her sister is just one of many mysteries related to the Southern Cross and its passengers. There’s an Agatha Christie/And Then There Were None-vibe to the book,and it’s a very solid outer space genre mash-up.

Serenity, by Joss Whedon, Zach Whedon, and Georges Jeanty

This is cheating, admittedly. In modern, pop culture, nothing outside of Star Wars says “space opera” quite like Joss Whedon’s Firefly/Serenity TV series and film combo (only James S.A. Corey’s The Expanse has crept into the zeitgeist in a similar way). Especially, but not only, among fans who watch more sci-fi than they read, Captain Reynolds and his ever-shrinking crew define the genre. With reason: this outer space western has spaceships, action, politics, and a soapy plot that twists and turns. I say it’s cheating because I’m not sure how much the Serenity graphic novels will appeal to those not previously initiated into the ways of Joss Whedon’s ‘verse, but the series expands upon and continues the story of Mal & co. in fine style We tend to not want the best space operas to end, and these books suggest that they don’t always have to.

Saga, by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples

What’s left to be said about the ongoing epic from Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples? It’s not only one the bestselling books on the stands, it’s among the most beloved, by fans and critics alike. It’s also among the space opera-iest. The story centers on Hazel, the daughter of Alana and Marko, star-crossed lovers from opposite sides of a galactic war. They’re fighting to keep their young family together, desperately trying to avoid getting involved in the conflict at all. Naturally, their results are mixed. It’s got all of the right ingredients: spaceships, and aliens, and outer space action, from an angle that is more humanist, more sex-positive, and deeply weird. Their best friend is a ghost, the main antagonist has an old TV for a head, and everyone’s favorite character is a cat that hisses at liars (artist Staples excels at making these strange and incongruous creations pop). Come to think of it, we could use Lying Cat here in the real world.

Descender, by Jeff Lemire and Dustin Nguyen

A great exercise in worldbuilding, Descender takes place in the aftermath of the collapse of a great and shining human civilization. Giant robots called Harvesters suddenly appear, taking over many of the essential functions of empire and leaving humanity struggling to find its place in a system in which automatons rule in all but name. People and AIs used to get along just fine, and Tim-21 was one example: a robot boy who lived with and was loved by a colonist family, but who woke up 10 years after the invasion to find himself hunted and hated. The plot turns on the suggestion that Tim-21 has a connection to the Harvesters that both humans and AIs can exploit, leading to the robot’s travels through writer Lemire and artist Nguyen’s elaborate universe. But the heart of the story is its timely exploration of the life of a boy who was accepted and loved before he was branded an outsider because he reminds people of what they hate.

Sinestro Corps War, by Geoff Johns, Dave Gibbons, and Peter Tomasi

Green Lantern books tend to vacillate between earthbound superhero-style storytelling and epic outer space adventures. Since Geoff Johns’ run on the book began over 10 years ago, we’ve had much more of the latter, and the popularity of this multi-part saga is a big reason why. It’s probably one of the most successful big-publisher crossover events in history, being largely self-contained as well as impressive in its scope. Using the power of yellow light to instill great fear, Sinestro forms an army of the nastiest villains in the DC Universe to conquer the Green Lantern Corps. The battle’s full of twists and turns and takes place on a number of fronts, from Oa at the center of the universe, to Mogo the living planet, to Earth (San Diego, specifically, and just in time for Comic-con). Really, the whole of the Green Lantern saga, beginning with Johns’ rebirth up until the present, can be thought of as one big space opera—and this epic forms the spine.

ODY-C, by Matt Fraction and Christian Ward

It’s a book with an easy pitch: Homer’s Odyssey, but, you know…in space. But there’s another twist: almost no men feature in the adventures of Matt Fraction and Christian Ward’s Odyssia and her crew. By populating the mythological world of Homer with only women, but retaining the major plot points (and much of the language), Fraction and Ward have been able to say incredibly interesting things about the roles of female characters in epic literature (and comics) without sacrificing the story (or the violence). Ward’s art is probably the real star; he rethinks Greek mythology from the ground up, reconsidering what science and architecture would look like without men, and painting it all in a gorgeously psychedelic style. The heightened, epic sci-fi world makes it the rare space opera that’s also wonderfully operatic.

Space Riders, by Alexis Ziritt and Fabian Rangel

Another book with immediately striking art, this one follows the crew of the Santa Muerte, a spaceship shaped like a badass giant skull. The art and writing suggest Jack Kirby, your favorite heavy metal album cover, and maybe a sweet blacklight poster. It’s that cool. The skullship’s Captain Peligro is on a quest to regain lost prestige and confront the legacy of his father alongside a crew that includes a sanctimonious baboon and a tough android who keeps it together while the rest of the crew is going slightly mad around her. Captain Peligro’s quest provides solid plot engine for outer space adventures, but, more than anything, it’s simply an amazing ride.

Letter 44, by Charles Soule, Alberto Albequerque, Dan Jackson, Shawn DePasquale, and Guy Major

This one is a tad more Earth-bound than many space operas, but it still totally ignites our rockets: Newly elected U.S. President Stephen Blades walks into the Oval Office on his first day and is confronted with a truth that might have stopped his campaign cold: seven years earlier, NASA discovered a potentially lethal alien presence frighteningly close to Earth, and sent a crew to investigate. Now, the nine astronauts are approaching their target—assuming their battered ship, the Clarke, can survive the journey. So far, so sci-fi, but the book gets much bigger (and weirder) one we learn what kind of threat has been lurking in the asteroid belt.

God Hates Astronauts, by Ryan Browne, Jordan Boyd, and Chris Crank

They are the Power Persons 5 (PPL), a team of super-beings tasked with preventing homegrown astronauts from launching themselves into space. Under the leadership of Sir Hippothesis (part-hippo, part-human) and Dr. Professor (part-rhino, part-human), they occasionally battle threats like an army of fighting bears, or the villainy of King Tiger Eating a Cheeseburger. They also spend a lot of time bickering and going to counseling. It’s whacky and jokey and walks the line of being way too silly without ever (mostly without ever) crossing over. The zaniness is aided and abetted by Browne’s cartoony, colorful, and incredibly detailed artwork. It’s about as weird as space opera gets, in the best way possibly.

What’s your favorite space opera in graphic novel form?