Some Statements: ● Black Kiss shocked me. I am not sure what I expected, but it sure wasn't this ultra-violent, supernatural, neo-noir, festival of misSome Statements: ● Black Kiss shocked me. I am not sure what I expected, but it sure wasn't this ultra-violent, supernatural, neo-noir, festival of misogyny and ugliness. ● Pretty amazing to have a transgendered sex worker as your "heroine" even today, let alone 1988. It's problematic to be sure (maybe even worthy of serious criticism; I'd even make the case that it is transphobic, especially today), but it's still a pretty serious leap for a Canadian comic book imprint like Vortex Comics to take in the heart of the AIDs epidemic. ● One of our characters, who shall remain nameless here, is brutally raped and ends up trying to protect the rapists from some furious anger because the character "enjoyed" it -- it is Black Kiss's lowest point. And that is saying something. ● The violence in Black Kiss is brutal, but mostly fuzzy and hard to make out in the black and white inking of the panels. Unlike a question I raise later, I appreciate Chaykin's restraint here. ●It's nearly impossible to like anyone in this graphic novel. ● We badly need more graphic novels containing graphic sexuality. Strip away the ugliness of Black Kiss and ramp up the truly erotic. Oh ... the pleasure that could be had.
A Bunch of Questions: ● If you're going to show genitalia in your graphic novel art, why not go hard (pun intended) and show that genitalia a little (or a lot) more graphically? ● Who in Hollywood is mad enough to make this into a film? Who on Earth would star in it? ● I wonder which serial killers of the '90s were influenced by these pages? ● Why hasn't there been a pulpy thriller with Cass Pollack, the jazz musician and last man standing, as an anti-hero? ● Is Black Kiss an underrated satirical masterpiece? Or is it a schlocky piece of trash?
Three Confessions: ● Howard Chaykin was intentionally pushing the boundaries, and he's reported to have been going for the darkest humour and most outrageous content right when "there was serious talk about trying to create a rating's system for comics, and [... he wrote] a book that would be appalling and offensive ... and funny," and I must admit that he conjured more than a laugh or two out of me in terribly inappropriate moments. ● I came to Black Kiss to be titillated, for some taboo arousal, and for the briefest of spells -- when Dagmar Laine's gender came to light and her relationship with Beverly Grove seemed more combative noirish than Mistress-Thrawl supernatural horror -- I was absolutely thrilled, then all hell broke loose, literally and figuratively, and I shifted into despair and a constant cringe. ● I actually liked this graphic novel, and I would love to see more things like this (even the ugly bits) in our puritanical present....more
I gave Mara: Lucid Folly a second star because Cosimo Ferri's pornographic drawings are impressive, and they are what I came to this graphic novel forI gave Mara: Lucid Folly a second star because Cosimo Ferri's pornographic drawings are impressive, and they are what I came to this graphic novel for in the first place. But it is also true that I can see pornographic images anytime I want, and I had hopes of a truly erotic story to make the smuttiness worth while. In that I was thoroughly disappointed.
What happens in this volume of Mara needed three times the space to really work well. Everything is too condensed. Whether it is the introduction of Mara as an author, Mara as sexually voracious being, Mara as an investigator, or Mara as an unholy avenger, we were given too little of each of her barely scratched out aspects (yes, even her sexual insatiability). And the plot suffered just as much as did her characterization.
Mara is sexy -- as drawn -- but she is a not sexy as written. She is insatiable in her appetites, which would have been fun to watch if given time to breathe, but there is so little that is attractive about her in this speedy first episode that her insatiable appetites are trite.
Regardless, what Mara really is --not author, not investigator, not lover of sex -- makes me want to read more, and I may tackle the French versions of the other volumes in this series, but I am in no hurry to grab my pen and my French to English dictionary. ...more
Boldly Stripped is a wonderfully naughty book. It is the perfect smutty gift for every Trek Original Series (TOS) nerd in the universe. The book is asBoldly Stripped is a wonderfully naughty book. It is the perfect smutty gift for every Trek Original Series (TOS) nerd in the universe. The book is as beautifully designed and crafted as Hazel Honeysuckle is herself. The painstaking care in recreating sets, making costumes and prosthetics, painting Hazel's skin to get each alien race just right, along with the playfulness and unrepentant sexuality make Boldly Stripped a must-have artifact for any true lover of TOS.
And the best part of it is knowing that those who produced Boldly Stripped, from Hazel to Dangrrr to everyone in between, are huge nerds just like us. They all love TOS just as much as we do, and they do honour to Roddenberry's original series in a way that far exceeds all the "new" series that invade our airwaves. Boldly Stripped is a labour of love that just happens to appreciate the fact that a little lust never hurt anyone. ...more
I just finished my smoke. Time to clean up the mess. ;)
In all serious, though, Yes, Roya was something of a revelation. I feel like I have been wWhew!
I just finished my smoke. Time to clean up the mess. ;)
In all serious, though, Yes, Roya was something of a revelation. I feel like I have been waiting my whole life for this story. It is the erotica I have been craving; it is everything I desire in real life, everything I have experienced in a piece here and a piece there but never as a whole; it is arousing, loving, brave, sexy, caring, submissive & dominant, defiant; it makes me proud to be bisexual, actually. And that is quite an affirming thing....more
Know before you begin the Savage Avengers that the assembled team has nothing to do with the Avengers -- no affiliation -- and that they are not even Know before you begin the Savage Avengers that the assembled team has nothing to do with the Avengers -- no affiliation -- and that they are not even remotely a team of Savage "Avengers." The comic could just as easily be called Conan's Bastards, or A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Savage Land, or The Dirty Half-Dozen, but Marvel knows that if they throw Avengers in a title it's going to sell more comics, so Savage Avengers is the title they gave us.
False advertising aside there is really only one thing that doesn't work for me in Savage Avengers, and that is the same thing that fails to work for me whenever he appears -- the Punisher. Apologies to Gerry Duggan for my feelings since Duggan's motive for choosing Frank Castle as one of his Savages makes perfect sense and is upheld by his story's internal logic, but I simply can't stand the Punisher. I find him boring, overused, one note, a prime example in our comic book writers of what Ursula K. Leguin called "the treason of the artist":
The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain. (from The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas),
and the Punisher's presence in any comic, for me at least, diminishes whatever else is being done, which is particularly unfortunate in the Savage Avengers, considering how good everything else is.
We get Wolverine lopping off limbs left and right, while stretching his healing factor beyond anything we've ever seen before; we get Elektra as something of a chess master moving her pawns around and keeping them alive when she can; we get Doctor Voodoo (perhaps the least savage of the bunch) magicking his ass off; Venom doing what Venom does best -- cracking wise in a supporting role; and best of all, Conan of Cimmeria, hot off the pages of Savage Sword of Conan, ridiculously exiles from Hyboria and set loose in the Savage Land (what next? Kull as a member of the Fantastic Four?). I'm going to come right out and say that I came to Savage Avengers because of Conan. I'm a huge fan. I still play Conan RPG games and strategy games. I even love apocryphal Conan villains -- like the Savage Avengers' Kulan Gath -- even though they have no connection whatsoever to the original works of Robert E. Howard. All of these elements are worth the visit with Gerry Duggan's mad team of Savage Bad-Asses, and the art work is a slicing, dicing, bloody brilliant morass of gore, so that is good too.
Savage Avengers is pure O-Positive escapism, and very nearly perfect. If only Frank Castle would fuck off and die. Or even better ... I'd love a Mandela effect where only I can remember that the Punisher ever existed and the rest of the world has no idea what I am talking about. What a wonderful world that would be.
I actually read this twice in 2023, but I am only going to count it once because even after most of the year away from the book and a second reading, I actually read this twice in 2023, but I am only going to count it once because even after most of the year away from the book and a second reading, I am really not sure what is going on in November.
Part of the is Matt Fraction's writing, which I tend to love. He is often quite sparing with his dialogue and detail, but that is okay because the action he writes is usually translated beautifully by his artist(s) so that meanings become clear. But his writing, if the art doesn't rise to the challenge, can be gappy and scattered. So it was here.
Which is not to say that the art of Elsa Charretier is bad. Not a bit, but her artwork, too, has a tendency to require much work from its readers. It is sparing, especially in November, to the point of being almost aloof, and it becomes far too difficult to work one's way through the details that should unlock the meaning of Fraction's work.
Now I have no doubt that those meanings will become clear to me by the time I reach Vol. 4, but by the end of Vol. 1 The Girl on the Roof -- twice -- I have only the most basic understanding of who is who and what is what. I am sure the failure is as much mine as it is Fraction's and Charretier's, but I look forward to figuring it all out as time goes on. ...more
My brain is working in two directions when it comes to Keanu ReevesBRZRKR, vol. 1. The first has to do with the man himself and the second has to do My brain is working in two directions when it comes to Keanu ReevesBRZRKR, vol. 1. The first has to do with the man himself and the second has to do with the story. I'll talk about the latter first.
The Latter -- A stew of violence that mixes Highlander, Wolverine and Conan into one frothing broth of bloodiness, BRZRKR, vol. 1 doesn't even come close to matching its ingredients for tastiness, but that doesn't mean it is inedible. It may not fill you up on a Saturday afternoon, but it'll give you some sustenance and make you keen for a little more to eat. It helps that Keanu is the model for the beserker in question, B, because it becomes much easier to picture the live action version of the tale (which is in the works at Netflix), adding a little extra spice to the stew. Yet it remains difficult for me to give it a high recommendation. It's a diversion. A bloody, mildly interesting, well drawn, decently scripted diversion. But not much more.
The Former -- What I think is far more interesting is the other thoughts -- the thoughts about Keanu Reeves -- that BRZRKR, vol. 1 has conjured in me. Maybe I am wrong about the cultural moment that imagines Keanu as the finest, kindest, most down to earth star imaginable. Perhaps the narrative doesn't exist and I have merely imagined it, but without seeking anything out about Keanu, this is what I "know": that he is currently praised for dating someone who is age appropriate (and *GASP* even has grey hair!), that he is widely seen as a good man because of the simple way he lives his life, including his use of public transportation, that he is praised for being kind on sets, a pleasure to work with, and respectful of all the cast and crew (but shouldn't that be the bare minimum for all of us in every job?), and that he seems to have a total lack of ego. As I say, I could be wrong about this, but that is certainly the image of Keanu that I have osmosed over the last little while.
But having read BRZRKR, vol. 1 I can't help wondering if he is as amazing as we all seem to think. Some of those assumed positives I mentioned seem to have humility all wrapped up in them, but how much humility can a man have when he is writing about an indestructible demi-god and then adding his own face to the character? I'm going to venture ... not very much. And what about the idea that Reeves is a simple man, living well beneath his means? If that is true then Keanu has money to burn, so why on earth does he need a Kickstarter campaign to produce his pet project? He raised over one million dollars from fans, but surely he could have hired his collaborators and paid for publication on his own dime, without asking for money from hundreds of thousands of folks who surely have a fraction of what Keanu has.
Then there is his movie career. There are some cute parts mixed in, and some parts that are heavy on kindness, but most of Keanu's career has seen him as a purveyor of violence, often ultraviolence. From Johnny Utah to Neo, from Jack Traven to John Wick, Reeves plays violent killers, albeit violent killers with style, and now, with BRZRKR, vol. 1, Reeves has penned his own ultraviolent killer to make all of his other ultraviolent killers seem like Smurfs by comparison.
The Keanu Reeves we imagine should be using his superstardom to break down the Hollywood obsession with violence rather than reinforcing the obsession, but here he is giving us another "hero" who bathes in blood. None of this means that what our culture seems to think of Keanu Reeves is wrong. He may be all those things I mentioned before, but BRZRKR, vol. 1 suggests that he is much more complex than we seem to be convincing ourselves he is, and maybe what we need to recognize that this current myth of Keanu Nice Guy Extraordinaire is just that -- myth.
More a money grabbie graphic advertisement for Marvel’s version of Conan the Barbarian than a true graphic novel or even an actual showcase of exceptiMore a money grabbie graphic advertisement for Marvel’s version of Conan the Barbarian than a true graphic novel or even an actual showcase of exceptional shorts, Exodus and Other Tales wouldn’t even be worth reviewing if not for a couple of exceptional tales hidden within.
Exodus, by Esad Ribić ★★★★★: The book opens with the most exceptional tale of them all -- Exodus.
Artist and occasional writer Esad Ribić, whose best work is often providing the art for famous comic writer Jason Aaron, is my son’s favourite comic book artist (and my son has some authority in this field, being a seriously talented illustrator himself). While I tend to favour more traditional penciling, I have to admit that Ribić’s water colour inspired airbrush paintings blow me away, and I absolutely see why Miloš admires him so. There is a depth of colour and texture to his art that transcends classic comic illustration, and his medium seems to enable him to capture human expression better than any comic artist I have ever seen.
This ability to capture expression is on full display in Ribić’s Conan one-shot. In fact, it is the primary tool of his storytelling. There is almost no dialogue in Exodus, and what dialogue does appear is a series of glyphs (which may or may not be decipherable) that represent the language of the Hyborian Age speakers. The only way to tell what is being felt or said is through the expressions of the characters and the actions they engage in. It is a silent film captured on a comic book page in gloriously rich colour. Imagine the cinematography of Revenant (and even some of the plot), and the silent middle of Castaway applied to a Conan tale and you will imagine precisely what you’re getting into when you read Exodus.
I hope Ribić continues to turn out work like Exodus, because he reminds us how beautiful the storytelling of comic books can be.
Savage Sword of Conan #12, written by Frank Tieri, penciled by Andrea di Vito ★★★: This traditionally spun Conan tale really deserves its own title beyond the comic it appeared in, especially since it is a one-shot interlude in Savage Sword rather than part of a larger story arc -- so I am going to call it Demon Seed to make it easier to write about.
Though a big drop off from the brilliance of Ribić’s Exodus, Demon Seed is a perfectly functional Conan story, something the Conan dilettantes L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter would have written. Conan slays men and demons alike, his actions are not terribly well informed but he can be forgiven because he is tricked into bad assery, and the pacing and action flow well. There is nothing profound, nothing particularly mind-blowing happening, but the art is pretty and the story is workmanlike, so Demon Seed is exactly what one would expect to fill their Conan void when they pick up their comics every month.
Does it belong in a collection of Conan shorts, though? Not really.
Aftermath - and a Beginning, written by Roy Thomas, art by Steve McNiven ★★: This story is a real piss off. The telling is fine, the art is fine, but it is a prologue that drops off just when it is starting to show its power, and we’re given this not-so-fine piece of writing as the parting shot: “For the remainder of this tale of the coming of Conan, see a reprinting of the first issue of Marvel’s Conan the Barbarian, originally published precisely half a century agone.”
Now that old story never needed a prologue, so why Thomas and McNiven bothered, and why Marvel gave them the greenlight to bother is beyond me, but the cynical nature of the call to go read the actual story, which must cost a reader more money, either on comixology or at the local comic book store, makes me not give a shit about the whys.
In the City of Thieves, written by Kurt Busiek, art by Pete Woods ★★★★½: This story could have been a piss off akin to Aftermath - and a Beginning because it too is a prologue to an existing Conan tale, but there is a difference that sets it apart and that difference makes all the difference.
In the City of Thieves drops Conan into Zamora a couple of days before the classic Robert E. Howard story, The Tower of the Elephant begins. If you’ve read that story, your mind will already be full of the sights and scents of Zamora, and the glistening tower that hides a bad ass interdimensional secret, which will surely elevate your experience with In the City of Thieves. If you haven’t read the story -- and here is the difference I was talking about -- it won’t really matter because In the City of Thieves is a complete one-off tale that doesn’t change or require its source inspiration in any way.
Plus, it is a solid story in its own right, tapping into Conan’s superstitions, his intelligence, his cynicism, and his greed. Best of all ... he doesn’t kill anyone. It’s almost unique in the universe of Conan, making it a near match for Ribić’s Exodus, and one of the only other tales in this book worthy of a place in a collection of Conan shorts.
Die by the Sword, written by Chris Claremont, art by Roberto de la Torre ★★★★ It’s always fun to read something by Chris Claremont, the king of all good X-Men stories, but it is particularly fun to see him playing with the barbaric Cimmerian.
Die by the Sword is the simplest tale in this collection, spanning the length of one battle Conan is fighting for Turan against the Hyrkanians. In the early stages of the battle, he comes closest to defeat at the hands of an Hyrkanian woman, whom he dispatches without ceremony before moving on, but he stumbles upon her fierce daughter later in the battle and they share a moment of philosophical discussion before she also dies under Conan's sword. It is moving in its simplicity, and it reveals that Claremont has one of the best understandings of Howard’s Conan. It makes me long for a full year of Claremont Conan comics. That would be an impressive run. But this tiny sliver of a story, good as it is and full of promise for all the untold Claremont Conan tales, isn't exceptional, only very good.
Requiem, by Kevin Eastman ★ The worst story and worst art in the collection combine in Kevin Eastman’s Requiem, which ends up being nothing more than poorly worked revenge porn. It really has no business in the same comic as Exodus, and more than any other entry, Requiem cheapens this graphic collection.
The revenge motive has always been one of the laziest and silliest drivers of non-Howard Conan stories, and Requiem is a particularly crappy entry in that Conan niche. Conan fights some baddies and barely escapes over a waterfall, a poor group of villagers downriver nurse Conan back to health, then he leaves them. A panel or two later Conan sees their village burning, goes back, and sure enough it is the baddies who sent him over the waterfall. He kills them ... and scene. It’s the plot of a thirteen year old boy’s D&D wet dreams. It’s one thing that shit like this gets produced (I get how that happens) it’s another thing to slip it into a collection of supposedly great Conan stories to ambush unsuspecting readers.
Ship of the Damned, written by Steven S. DeKnight, art by Jesus Saiz ★★★ The collection ends with a disappointing tale, not because Ship of the Damned is poorly written or poorly penciled, but because it is a novella length tale jammed into the space of a short story with art that is beautiful but far too clean for the Hyborian Age.
DeKnight needed 12 issues to tell this tale properly, to have us understand Conan’s love for Belit, to build up the crew, to prepare us for the hell ship, and then to really take us through that ship to the tales denouement. But instead of 12 issues we got 10 pages, and that just isn’t enough.
As for the art, Saiz crafted some attractive stuff (his conjuring of the spirit at the heart of the ship was particularly impressive), but the lines were too crisp, too clean, too without grit and character -- grit and character that still manages to appear in Ribić’s work despite his pretty watercolour palette -- too without the lived in quality that marks the best Conan art. It’s pretty to look at, and "better" than lots of art in this collection, but his style would be better suited to the Avengers than to the Cimmerian.
What a shame Ship of the Damned wasn’t better. But the same must be said for the whole collection, so I suppose it was a fitting end to an uneven comic. ...more
I own Thor #337 and read the same copy I own the month it came out in 1983. Should that matter to you, dear reader? Probably not. But I am a Beta Ray I own Thor #337 and read the same copy I own the month it came out in 1983. Should that matter to you, dear reader? Probably not. But I am a Beta Ray Bill fan from the very beginning, and I feel like that counts for something. Family and friends can attest to my deep love for Beta Ray Bill because when I talk about Marvel I always find a way to bring him into the discussion. So there you go. I have a stake in Walt Simonson's greatest creation, and I am predisposed to love anything and everything Beta Ray Bill.
Stormbreaker: The Saga of Beta Ray Bill, however, makes me want to cry. It is a soulless, poorly plotted, space opera wannabe, lazily repeating Bill's origin story -- this time "after" Ragnarok, which effectively takes away all the characters who lend Beta Ray Bill its emotional depth -- then adding a new herald for Galactus, some disintegrating, interstellar hell-gate opening idiot named Stardust, Galactus himself, and a failed Ray Bill called Alpha Ray Bill who is back then gone then remade by Galactus and back again.
And when all the drivel in space is over Michael Avon Oeming brings Beta Ray Bill back to New York City for an action epilogue that includes Spidey, the Boar, and a new alter-ego for Beta Ray Bill -- Simon Walters (a tip of the pen to Walt Simonson, obviously) -- a recently deceased war veteran. So it is space drivel then Manhattan drivel. Drivel. Drivel. Drivel. Beta Ray Drivel. ...more
A weird and kind of wonderful way to "read" a graphic novel, I doubt the Graphic Audio of Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars would work for those who havA weird and kind of wonderful way to "read" a graphic novel, I doubt the Graphic Audio of Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars would work for those who haven't already read the original, but I can't be sure since I have read the original multiple times.
The Graphic Audio takes the dialogue of the original Secret Wars, updates some character names based on changes to the current Marvel Universe, adds a whiz-bang audio soundtrack, and a handful of good vocal performances (along with a fistful of poor to middling vocal performances) to retell the visual tale for the audio medium.
Like I say, it is pretty effective if you have read the original. I can't know how effective it would be if you haven't, but as there are plenty of these peculiar audiobooks out there, I may stumble on one that I've not previously read ... then I'll let you know. At the very least, Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars was good enough for me to try another. ...more
"The premise of this book is that is that Dahmer was a tragic figure, but that only applies up until the moment he kills." ~~ Derf Backderf, author o
"The premise of this book is that is that Dahmer was a tragic figure, but that only applies up until the moment he kills." ~~ Derf Backderf, author of My Friend Dahmer
Would it be truly awful to suggest that Dahmer remained a tragic figure even after he killed? Would it be worse to suggest that the very act of killing made him even more tragic? I am about to say that Jeffrey Dahmer was a tragic figure made even moreso by where he ended up, and I am guessing that saying so will bother many people who read this review. I also think that maybe, perhaps, Derf Backderf only wrote the words I began this review with because he feared just such a response to his own belief that Jeffrey Dahmer was a tragic figure.
So here goes: Jeffrey Dahmer was a tragic figure from the cradle to the grave. I do not idolize Dahmer (nor any other serial killer) as a hero or an anti-hero, but I am unable to close off my empathy for him, and I am thereby able to understand and feel sadness for what led him to that fateful, first killing (and all the killings that followed). In my serial killer dilettantism, I have come to the conclusion that evil doesn't exist (despite the fact that most true crime writers, pundits and criminologists would have us believe it is so), and that serial killers are made out of the context in which they are born. So it was with Jeffrey Dahmer, and Derf Backderf's My Friend Dahmer --despite what Backderf wants us to believe -- suggests just such a conclusion.
Dahmer was thrown into what the Last Podcast on the Left boys call the "Serial Killer Soup" (albeit to a far lesser extent than many of his killing brethren), a soup made up of mental illness, insufficient parenting, overwhelming isolation, addiction, fear, shame, and bullying (and Derf Backderf was one of Dahmer's bullies, although his book suggests the bullying was all in fun). It seems to me that if all of these things make a person tragic before they've murdered -- as Backderf clearly states -- that these things must make them tragic even after they take the life of another.
There were so many moments when Dahmer could have been saved from himself, could have been brought back from the precipice he would tumble over, and the fact that it never happened, that so many stood by blindly or actively contributed to his fall makes the tragedy more profound.
I am in no way suggesting that Dahmer shouldn't have been held responsible for what he did nor that he should be absolved of guilt (although that is what he himself sought when he was "born again" in prison). What I am saying, however, is that it is precisely the disdain that we have for people like Dahmer (rather than disdain for his actions) that makes people like Dahmer hide from the help that could save the lives they will destroy (including their own). Backderf suggests that the shame of feeling the feelings Dahmer felt kept him from telling anyone, from seeking help. Perhaps things might have been different if the thoughts themselves had not caused Dahmer such shame, if those thoughts had not driven him into isolation. Heck, he could have been an amazing writer of horror or true crime.
We'll never know if things could have turned out differently, but I hope that people in Dahmer's place, people just steps away from becoming killers, can find a way out of their isolation, a way beyond their shame, a way to healing. Lives will be saved if they can. And we will all be better for it.
Maybe, just maybe, we can help them by being brave enough to feel pity regardless of how much we hate their actions. ...more
I am not a communist, but I love Lev Davidovich Bronstein. A man of potent principle, a fighter, a thinker, a revolutionary, a person who gave a shit.I am not a communist, but I love Lev Davidovich Bronstein. A man of potent principle, a fighter, a thinker, a revolutionary, a person who gave a shit.
My son is busy reading his autobiography (which I read many years ago, just after I read the amazing biography of Trotsky by Isaac Deutscher), and I needed a quick reminder to ground myself in our discussions. This intro by Tariq Ali is a perfect primer. Whether on eis coming at it from my direction -- a many years admirer needing a refresher -- or the neophite's direction -- knowing nothing of Stalin's (that prick!) greatest critic and adversary -- this book is a perfect overview of what made Trotsky tick, what made him important, what made him a target of assassination, and what made and makes him one of the least appreciated "great men" of history.
I may not agree with him entirely, but I do love him and admire him. "All power to the Soviets!" right, Lev?...more
As an opening arc for an ongoing comic series, Bitch Planet,Vol 1: Extraordinary Machine might be up there with my three or four favourites of the lasAs an opening arc for an ongoing comic series, Bitch Planet,Vol 1: Extraordinary Machine might be up there with my three or four favourites of the last decade. The amazing Kelly Sue DeConnick drops us right smack into her Father Earth-Mother Space-verse, and leaves it up to us to navigate our way to understanding what the hell is going on, strategically underspecifying almost everything except what is needed to tell us about her characters and her plot in the immediate now of her tale.
There is a lot going on.
The Bitch Planet is the prison colony for the non-compliant women of Earth -- an Earth fully enveloped in a hyper-patriarchy that seems to have taken on a quasi-religious dogmatism (which reminds me of the Sons of Adam from Racoona Sheldon's Sci-Fi classic, The Screwfly Solution. Non-compliance means almost anything: being obese (so not living up to a nearly impossible physical standard), "talking back" to a husband, being unemployed, sexual orientation, being a "bad mother" and on and on. There is an insane, ultra-violent, hand ball based sport that controls the hearts and minds of Father Earth-Mother Space-verse. Media perpetuates the ills of the nastiest opinions and diverts the attention of the fooled billions. Voyeurism is rampant (and we the reader are implicated in that nasty male gaze at all times). And sexual harassment, assault and rape are ubiquitous.
And the unspoken or barely suggested background of the Father Earth-Mother Space-verse makes Bitch Planet,Vol 1: Extraordinary Machine even richer. All the non-compliance we're faced with and steered into noticing and responding to is matched by a deep level of compliance everywhere else, mostly male but also female. And then there is a hint of non-compliance amongst men too (and questions of what that means and where it will lead made for some kick ass conversations amongst those I was reading this with). There are Pervs Camps that could be the destination of a Peeping Tom guard, raising the question of what other "perversions" the camps are used to punish. Toxicity of human behaviour -- mostly masculine -- is everywhere in the background. And how the world's reached this point hang over the tale like a storm cloud.
And if that isn't enough there is the satirical awesomeness of the advertising pages that end each issue.
This is top notch comic writing. But surely anyone who reads DeConnick's work on a regular basis has come to expect that. If you happen to read these words, though, Kelly Sue, can I ask a favour? Can you take your extraordinary talent and write us a Sci-Fi novel? You see, we lost a goddess of Sci-Fi literature recently, and we could sure use your voice in prose too. ...more
While Book Three of Saga of the Swamp Thing doesn't include my favourite Swamp Thing moment (that has to be Abby and the Swamp Thing's consummation inWhile Book Three of Saga of the Swamp Thing doesn't include my favourite Swamp Thing moment (that has to be Abby and the Swamp Thing's consummation in Book Two) nor my favourite Swamp Thing arc (that is still the Floronic Man Green vs. Red arc from Book One), it is, perhaps, the most consistently excellent of the Moore years so far -- and it does contain my favourite single issue: "The Curse."
It begins with the creepy "The Nukeface Papers," wherein Swamp Thing begins to understand the breadth of his powers. It is a tale where the horror of 80s environmental concerns take the shape of a nuclear waste drinking bum, who inadvertently "kills" Swamp Thing. The eco-criticism at the heart of this arc -- which includes newspaper clippings from an imagined coal mining disaster juxtaposed with real world 3-Mile island articles -- is particularly chilling considering how little those dangers have changed since 1985.
It continues into a creepy Vampire arc, where a clan of Vampires and their horrifying Vampire Queen -- a morbidly obese, bloated carrier of countless fishlike Vampire eggs -- live beneath the still waters of a manmade lake, a lake that sprang up over an old town because of a dam project. Again, ecological concerns are firmly in place, but the macabre kookiness is in the frightening progeny of the Vampires and the bizarre way Swamp Thing deals with their presence.
Next up is "The Curse" -- a werewolf story with an extended menstruation metaphor that is a shockingly prescient scream of patriarchal ubiquity.
Then the book wraps up with a zombie tale, wherein the roots of racism have sunk themselves into the earth surrounding a Louisiana plantation, and then those roots reveal the ease with which others can find themselves engaging in racism despite their belief that they have moved beyond such things.
Add to all of this brilliance the dirty, nicotine stained fingers of John Constantine (looking as he did for so many of his early years as Dune-era Sting), and Book Three of Saga of the Swamp Thing is a high point for the Moore-Bissette-Totleben collaboration. ...more
I left comics just before this series began because of a move to another part of the world, so coming back to the Old Man Logan of these graphic novelI left comics just before this series began because of a move to another part of the world, so coming back to the Old Man Logan of these graphic novels is a return without background, without context, and Warzones! is a fucking confusing way to start. I imagine I would have enjoyed it more with context, but I am hoping this zero issue will provide enough context for me to enjoy the future volumes.
What I liked:
Not much, actually, but at least the art was impressive. And I did like the characterization and importance of Emma Frost.
What I didn't like:
The Warzones themselves, all under a Godlike Victor von Doom, just seem overbaked to me. Mjolnirs are everywhere, even War Machine is "a Thor," each zone has its own Warlord, bla, bla, bla. It's an idea that might have been brilliant with all new characters in their own universe outside of Marvel, but feels cheesy as hell in the confines of even a splintered and alternate Marvel Universe....more
This volume wraps up the first big arc of the Goddess of Thunder series in a neat, tight little knot. Our Roxxon story continues with mining rights beThis volume wraps up the first big arc of the Goddess of Thunder series in a neat, tight little knot. Our Roxxon story continues with mining rights being won in Svartelfheim from Malekith, SHIELD getting their dirty hands involved, and the identity of our Goddess of Thunder being revealed. It's a touch anti-climactic after the first volume, but it is a solid wrap-up all the same.
This volume suffers, though, from the publication of the Goddess of Thunder Annual. Rather than one over-stuffed story, the annual is split into three stories. One shifts Norse Mythology into Christianity, one is silly and one is sillier. None of the stories are great, but they are okay to varying degrees. Hardly worth more comment, though.
What saves volume 2 is the reprint of the classic "What If?" story of Thordis. Uatu tells us all about what happened in an alternate universe when Jane Foster found Mjolnir instead of Donald Blake. The idea of Jane as Thor isn't new, you see, and it was nice to be reminded of the original spin on the idea many moons ago. Written by Don Glut and pencilled by Rock Hoberg (a perfectly adequate bit of illustration), "What if Jane Foster had found the hammer of Thor" doesn't have anything like the polish of Jason Aaron's amazing work, but it is a nice little time capsule of sexual attitudes, attempts at progressiveness, and the spark of imagination....more
There was much talk about the gender flip when Goddess Thor replaced Odinson (which was to be expected), and much of the initial talk came from Thor fThere was much talk about the gender flip when Goddess Thor replaced Odinson (which was to be expected), and much of the initial talk came from Thor fans (mostly men) who were critical of the change. Then that talk was answered by the opposition camp (mostly women) who were critical of the criticism.
I have been a Marvel Thor fan since I was a teenager. I have the entire run of Walt Simonson bagged and boarded and filed for posterity, and I have a future tattoo of a Simonson Thor all picked out. My daughter loves Lady Sif (and hates Jane Foster because Jane gets in the way of Sif's love), and her twin brother has won awards for his God of Thunder cosplay at local conventions. We are a Thor family, so I couldn't help be interested in the debate.
I personally loved the idea as soon as I heard it was happening because I'd had my own idea for years that every character that Thor truly loved -- Sif, Jane, Baldur, Freyja, maybe even Steve -- were worthy of Mjolnir, and that any of them in a time of dire need could lift the hammer. My heart and brain were prepared for the change, therefore, and I had no problem seeing someone else wield Mjolnir, especially knowing it was coming from the very capable mind of Jason Aaron.
Surprise, surprise, though ... my twelve year old twins had other ideas.
I was fully expecting them to be on board and excited like I was, but neither of them were, which made me pause and want to take another, deeper look at why it is that some folks (those mostly men again) were so upset by the Thor shakeup.
I started by talking to my daughter. For Bronte it was annoyance at the gimmickieness of the whole thing. You see, Bronte already loves Asgard’s heroines. Her favourite, favourite, favourite Marvel Superhero is the Lady Sif (her very first comic was during the Sif arc of Journey Into Mystery), and Valkyrie was the next Asgardian she came to love, so she was annoyed that the creators must have thought that the only way to get girls to read Thor comics was to make Thor female rather than to start telling tales that foregrounded the amazing women that already exist in the Marvel Universe and give them their own titles.
She, it turns out, wants the already existing women of Marvel to achieve the level of respect they deserve and to, in her words, “Not ride the coattails of the boys!”
Then I went to my son. For Milos, the problem had to do with the loss of Thor “him”self. Milos imagines himself as Thor nearly every day and still, at twelve, pretends he’s Thor, running around the house in helmet and cape with Mjolnir in hand saving the realms. His blonde hair (turning brown slowly these days, much to his chagrin) is down to his shoulders and has only been cut (well… trimmed rather than cut) once a year for his whole life – all of this because of Thor. So he saw Lady Thor as an undermining of all he loved. Not only was Thor suddenly personally unworthy of his hammer, but someone else was worthy, and Milos felt like he couldn’t play her because she was, well, a her. The change hurt him, then the hurt became anger because he wondered why they couldn’t just make a new hero who was a girl and leave Thor alone.
I was surprised. I figured my own opinion would be theirs (not at all self-absorbed, am I?). But it wasn’t, and they were pissed in a place where I was excited. And neither of them fill the stereotype of what one might imagine the opponents of Lady Thor to be. Milos comes closer, certainly, but he lives in a home of strong women, and he is not a basement dwelling square, and all his best friends are girls, and he loves damn near every Marvel Superheroine there is.
But here’s the kicker. Once the two of them read Goddess of Thunder, one of them decided it was awesome and the other had their opinion that it sucked deepened. I imagine you’ve guessed it, but it is Bronte who hates it more and Milos who has decided Lady Thor is “badass cool!”
Bronte just can’t see the point. Lady Thor is just Thor (and by the time she finished Goddess of Thunder, she knew exactly who Lady Thor is), and Lady Sif barely gets any time at all, and besides, Bronte would just rather read stories about the awesome ladies that have always been there.
Milos, however, is super stoked because it’s not like Thor is gone. He has relinquished the name Thor and become Odinson (certainly nonsensical if you are a believer in Norse Religion, but fitting in the Marvel Universe), and even though he’s lost Mjolnir, he still has Jarnbjorn and a sweet new Uru arm. So there is a new-old Thor out there for him to play, and now that he knows who Lady Thor is and is able to put into the context of the overarching tale, he’s just fine.
You just never know why people are going to fear change or even hate change once it has happened, but something about this moment tells me we need to listen to peoples stories rather than shutting them up and shutting them down. And that goes for everyone.
For me, I love Thor, the Goddess of Thunder. She makes sense. It enriches her, the character who is now Thor, and it enriches Odinson, and I am a sucker for the enriching of stories and characters I love. I should get the next 5 issues soon. Can’t wait to give them a go...more
I could be out of touch here, and maybe I am, but I am having serious problems with this critically acclaimed iteration of Jem and the Holograms when I could be out of touch here, and maybe I am, but I am having serious problems with this critically acclaimed iteration of Jem and the Holograms when it comes to believing in the ages / maturity of Jerrica and her sisters.
I have an eight year old daughter, a thirteen year old daughter, and I spend much of my time around 18-20-something women, and there are times in Jem and the Holograms when any of the characters could be any of those ages. The most consistently mature is Jerrica, but even she slips into bizarrely childlike behaviour from time to time.
The ages / maturity just don't ring true to me. Even Scoutie, my eight year old, is more mature than some of the characters some of the time, and all the other women I am around on a regular basis make Jerrica and her sisters seem inconsistently written at best or utterly vapid at worst. And this is a huge shame because it distracts from many of the things for which Kelly Thompson deserves praise. The focus on young women doing it on their own (-ish), the fact that a compelling story is being told almost without violence, creativity and the arts as a pursuit being praised rather than denigrated, male characters in supporting roles (yet remaining interesting and worthwhile), themes of love and trust and self-respect and body positivity all getting some time on stage -- these are stories worth telling and they are mostly being told well -- except for the odd immaturity that seems to take hold of the characters from time to time.
The age vs. maturity issue really does hinder my enjoyment. Most of the time I think it is the inconsistent art that is to blame (too many different artists disrupt the story's flow), but sometimes it is in Thompson's writing too. Jem and the Holograms and their enemies, the Misfits, can go from reasonably bothered to spoiled bratty in the space of a panel, and it undermines my desire to pull for them. But you know what ... I know this comic isn't for me. I know I'm not the target audience, and my littlest girl loves it, so who am I to be mean about Jem and the Holograms? I am the wrong person to be judging. But as long as Scoutie is reading these, I will be too, and I fear my struggle with the maturity of the bands will continue.
Oh well, It's definitely worth a read or two, especially if you are an eight year old who loves to play piano and loves to cosplay Jem....more
That a book and its characters could be worth reading when their stories were originally conceived as a way to sell dolls that already existed as concThat a book and its characters could be worth reading when their stories were originally conceived as a way to sell dolls that already existed as concepts, that a corporate crafted method of scamming money from little girls at Toys R Us would be something I would eventually find myself sharing with my youngest daughter, that anything good could come of such cynicism are things I am probably going to struggle with for a long time, but here I am after reading Kelly Thompson's 2015 IDW reboot of Jem and the Holograms #1 for the second time to admit that perhaps where an idea comes from isn't nearly as important as what is done with it once it exists.
I've not watched the old Jem cartoon, so I don't have any preconceived notions of what Jem and the Holograms should be, so I come to this Thompson/Campbell version of Jem absolutely fresh and without Jem specific baggage (and I have already claimed my ideological baggage, so ...).
What I come away with from Jem and the Holograms: Showtime is a warm feeling for its creators, its characters and its tale. I can't help liking a story where the women outnumber the men by a large margin; I can't help liking a story where friendship is at its heart; I can't help liking a story where love knows no gender boundaries or sexuality boundaries without any anxiety, shame or judgment coming from the creators; I can't help liking a story where exuberance abounds; I can't help liking a story with such pinks and purples. So I do ... I like this story. Very much.
But for all the things there is to like, for all the things I do like, I can't help feeling that it is all too slight for my tastes. My mind isn't hungering for anything violent or dark (although Dark Jem is on the horizon for me), I am not looking for anything more complicated when it comes to the plot, but I do want something more when it comes to thematic oomph! I want more than pleasant despite how pleasant pleasant can be.
Fingers crossed I'll get that oomph! in Jem and the Holograms #2....more
When a comic store discussion kicks up about Mike Grell's GreenArrow: The Longbow Hunters, there is an almost religious hush that settles on the speakWhen a comic store discussion kicks up about Mike Grell's GreenArrow: The Longbow Hunters, there is an almost religious hush that settles on the speakers as they stand around the stacks or lean against the glass display cases. There is a sort of mythic reverence these nerd acolytes try to pass on to the uninitiated, and having once been one of the latter, I myself was personally touched by the former.
Due to a peculiarity in me, however, I didn't take my copy home and devour it with a born-again religious fervour. I did take it home, that much is true, but as I am wont to do with most things other folks revere, I couldn't bring myself to start. Instead, The Longbow Hunters joined my bedside stack of things to read, then daunted me from that vantage. It took me years to finally pick it up and see what all that love was about.
I understand the reverence now even if I don't feel it myself.
The Longbow Hunters came out between DC's two granddaddy examples of comic book seriousness. Sandwiched between The Dark Knight Returns (1986) and The Killing Joke (1988), The Longbow Hunters features mature incarnations of Oliver Queen and Dinah Lance (stripped of her Black Canary persona), as they love one another, ponder parenthood (and the decision on this is particularly fascinating), come to accept their place as "super-heroes," and put their lives on the line for what they believe. Beyond their somewhat comfortable world, a sort of Jack-the-Ripper serial killer is slaughtering prostitutes, while a second bowman is taking out a series of seemingly unconnected, rich, powerful victims, and a plague of drug crime is polluting the streets the two love so much.
In the midst of all this gritty chaos is a favourite of all Green Arrow fans -- Shado. She is a Yakuza assassin, forced to kill a series of targets to regain her family's honour and pay off her blood debt, and her presence forces Green Arrow to consider his own ethics, and embrace the killing of foes. It is never clear if this acceptance of killing is due to a need for justice or a recognition of vengeance as a motivation, but both concepts are possible, and the lack of resolution is one of the story's great strengths.
The Longbow Hunters is a strong story. It is beautifully illustrated (brutally illustrated in some parts) intelligently conceived and plotted, and the dialogue mostly holds up for our contemporary audiences. It also goes some distance towards making Green Arrow a serious hero in the DC Universe, and it is a pivotal moment in what would be Green Arrow's finest years as a solo hero and a member of the Justice League.
Unfortunately, though, Green Arrow has never been and will never be as beloved as his fellow from Gotham City, so this comic will never have the readership the comics that include the BatFamily command. I think, ultimately, it is this underdog status that makes it such a religious experience for the nerdy followers of DC. If they know the The Longbow Hunters, if they've read it and appreciated it, if they can pass on their specialized knowledge to others, if they can proselytize their fervour for this high quality, nearly forgotten brother to the granddaddies, they can hold a tiny little niche of the comic book experience that makes them belong, makes them feel special, makes them safe in a world that they feel hates them. And that may just be The Longbow Hunters greatest accomplishment, maintaining a safe space within which to geek out.
I am glad I finally pulled it out of my stacks and gave it a read. It's not my favourite, but anything with Shado, especially Shado at her best, is a comic for me. ...more
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