Ryan
This book had the potential to be really good. I like Carey's writing style, and the set up - magical and non-magical cliques of students in a high school - seemed enjoyable enough, if a little poppy.
As for the end result ... well, it's not that it was bad, just that it didn't really live up to the potential of its concept.
This was an interesting little GN to read. Heavy Parker is a punk rock poseur who breaks a girl's heart as she's leaving for art school; she returns a year later as a “real punk” to get her revenge.
The only problem with this is that I didn't really like any of the main characters. There was one secondary character (a reporter at a local magazine) who was interesting, but the rest just seem like whiny, shallow idiots, which I don't think was Wood's intent. Maybe if this had been a longer story, they could have been developed better and the whole thing would have been improved.
This was an amazingly fun, and bizarre, book, collecting the two years' worth of Godzilla comics that Marvel published in the 1970s. The series starts with Godzilla arriving in Alaska and tearing his usual swath of destruction down the Pacific coast before being halted by SHIELD (the Strategic Hazard Intervention and Enforcement Law Division) and a pre-teen boy piloting a giant robot. After that it seems like they weren't too sure of what to do with the character, but the series contiued for another fourteen issues, and featured Godzilla battling everything from superheroes to cattle rustlers, as well as changing in size and travelling through time. I think it reached its zenith (although some may regard it as a nadir) in one scene where a four-foot tall, trenchcoat-clad Godzilla fights off muggers on the mean streets of New York.
Another amazing thing about this book is something I've seen in other Marvel books of the same era, which is a blending of different levels of fiction. As a result, when Godzilla strikes, people say they know it's Godzilla because they've seen Godzilla movies (which are not mentioned as documentaries). Similarly, when The Thing (a rival of the Hulk) shows up, he mentions watching the Hulk TV show. So we have fictional characters talking about the real presentations of other fictional characters, who are to them real. It's a neat trick: I'll have to make sure to to steal it sometime :o)
This is the second book in Rice's Mayfair Witches trilogy, and I have to confess that while I find the witches fascinating, the title character leaves me a little cold.
In the first book in the series we learned that the Mayfairs had been subtly manipulated for thirteen generations by a spirit named Lasher, so that they could fulfill a prophecy that would give Lasher physical form. As this book opens Lasher has effectively won, and the Mayfairs have to try to put the genie back in the bottle.
In some ways, this book reminded me of Star Trek VI; both asking the question of “what do you do when the defining grand narrative of your life has ended?” This was understandably on the minds of many Americans as the Cold War came to an end, and it's interesting to see how different genres framed (and answered) the question.
If you can get past the sexism and racism that this book was filled with, there's a good little detective story in here. That being said, there is a lot of stuff in here that a lot of people would find offensive (I had to keep reminding myself “consider the historical context!”)
What's really interesting, though, is that Spillaine's Mike Hammer was the prototype of the super-macho action movie protagonist of the 1970s and 1980s. It's easy to forget how rooted in noir that character type is, and I think that by doing so we are left with an incomplete understanding of it.
This one was a real mixed bag for me, which has become sort of typical of Ennis' work for me. When he's writing about the relationship between power, authority, and personal responsibility, Ennis can be one of the best writers of superheroes in the business. Unfortunately, a lot of his personal writing tics - his dislike of superheroes, his ‘hard-man' posturing, his penchant for pureile humour - prevent his writing from reaching its potential.
The latest volume of Fables started out with the same Israel/Palestine/Nazi allegory that Willingham's been hammering home since vol 7, with the bad guys in this volume meeting to discuss a “Final Solution” to the problem of Fabletown's existence. Once we move away from that, however, he have some forward momentum on the Adversary/Fables war, as well as some nice, quiet little stories - Rapunzel and her barber, Jack trying to steal Santa's naughty and nice lists, and that sort of thing. To sum up: a bit of what I don't like about the series mixed in with a lot of what I do like make for an enjoyable GN.
Wow, I enjoyed this volume a LOT more than the first half of the duology. As the war against the Prime aliens continues, in this volume we learn about the history of the treacherous Starflyer alien, it's relationship to both the Commonwealth and the Primes, and humanity faces its darkest hour.
What's amazing about this book, though, is that Hamilton manages to bring together almost every branch of science fiction literature in existence. Within the scope of the one story there's interstellar war, alien invasion, possession by unseen forces, body modification and implantation, cloning, memory transfer, time travel, wormholes, and consciousness singularity, but all combined in a way that seems naturalistic and understandable. If you're a sci-fi fan there's no doubt something in here for you.
Another volume of Fables that I found to be entertaining, but underwhelming. I think the series works best when dealing with the idea of fairy tale characters in the real world; for the past while it's been focusing more on their attempts to take back their homelands, which is just not as interesting to me. Willingham also tried to rephrase the series as an allegory for the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, but for that to work the Adversary and his minions have to fulfill the roles of ancient Rome, Nazi Germany, the British Empire, as well as the various nations surrounding Israel in the Middle East.
It looks like the next volume is a bit larger and more epic in scope; hopefully that will signal a return to form for the series.
This was a fascinating volume of Maxx's story to read, because, well, everything seems to get summed up nicely. Normally, this would be what you'd expect, only this is the third volume in a five-volume series, and it's a series that has used mystery and misdirection as one of the primary modes of storytelling throughout the series. While doing this, it's also managed to keep its trademark mix of Carl June, Camille Paglia, Calvin & Hobbes, and the Incredible Hulk just right. It'll be interesting to see what happens next in the series.
On top of that, this volume showcases some of the best art I've ever seen from Sam Keith. He's got one of those art styles that people tend to either love or hate, but here it blends absolutely perfectly with the story that's being told, and adds to it immeasurably. If you're a fan of his, definitely check this out if you haven't already.
In some ways, I think it's always great to go into a story expecting it to be one thing, and then finding out that it's really something rather different. That was my experience with this GN.
When you start the book, it seems to be a typical, slice-of-life style indie comic story, the kind that's been told a thousand times before, this time specifically being about how hard it is for kids of Asian descent to fit in in American society. What you find out, though, is that it's really a parable of the Monkey King, and how sometimes there can be nothing worse than getting what you wished for. That switch is accomplished very effectively, though, and you don't realize the fantasy elements that are in the story until they're completely in your face, which then forces you to look back and see that they were really all there all along. Wonderfully accomplished storytelling.
My wife recommended this one to me; she'd been talking it up me for a while now, but when she mentioned that it sounded to be in a similar ballpark to what I was planning on working on for NaNoWriMo this year, I decided to take the plunge and check it out.
It's a really good book - one of those ones that isn't just a good YA book, but actually stands on its own as well. The city of Ember is a city located underground, with massive generators and storerooms to keep the denizens of the city safe and happy. Eventually, however, the city starts to come to a state of disarray, and only our two young protagonists seem committed to saving Ember from itself.
This is the first part of a trilogy, so there's a lot of set-up and world-building, but it still manages to tell a complete story within that, something that a lot of authors seem to have difficulty doing lately.
I'm not sure if this book is even actually out yet - I got a free, signed ARC from the author at Fan Expo in Toronto this year.
This was an interesting book - it strongly feels like an 80s b-horror movie, both in plot and execution. It's part slasher film and part zombie movie; in terms of atmosphere, I would say that it reads sort of like a novelization of one of the Return of the Living Dead films. If you liked those, this would be a good book for you to check out
This was an interesting part of the Fables story, to put it mildly. It started off with a fairly forgettable Jack story that seems to have served no purpose other than to give the impetus for the Jack spin-off series (which I don't really have much interest in reading).
After that, though, came the big story - Homelands, which follows Boy Blue after the events of March of the Wooden Soldiers. Blue journeys to the land of the Adversary, hoping to kill him and thus allow the fables to return home. He fails, but along the way he uncovers the identity of the Adversary himself, a revelation that is simultaneously disappointing and awing, which is a weird combination of emotions. If you're a fan of the series, definitely pick this one up, but if you're not familiar with it, start with the first volume rather than this one.
Gnosticism is a school of thought within ancient Christianity that rejected the centrality of Jesus' crucifiction and the authority of the Catholic Church, instead focusing on the importance of direct mystical experience with God and the cultivation of the Christ-figure within the individual. As such, the ancient Church declared the Gnostics heretics, and rounded up most of the Gnostic holy texts (including the Gospels of Thomas, Mary, and Judas), and destroyed them. In 1945 a group of ancient Gnostic texts were found outside the town of Nag Hammadi in central Egypt; this book is an overview of those texts and their contents.
I find Gnosticism to be an absolutely fascinating strain within Christianity; while still being ‘Christian', it's radically different from what we usually think of when we think of that religion, preaching the importance of individual experience over divine central authority, and arguing in favour of gender equality at a time when it was virtually unknown. The world would be a much different place, I think, if the Gnostics were not suppressed in ancient times.
In terms of this book, it's a fairly comprehensive introduction to not only the history of Gnosticism movements within Christianity, but to also the different strains of thought that occured within the movement. If you're already familiar with Gnosticism there isn't much here that's new, but as an introduction it's the best one I've reead.
Yes, I'll admit it, I only picked this book up because of the ringing endorsement by Neil Gaiman within its introduction. I mean, based on the synopsis on the back cover it sounded like the kind of thing I'd like, but without the Gaiman name on it, I never would have made it that far.
And, overall, it is a fairly enjoyable read. There's a lot of good ideas here - different races of fairies trying (and largely failing) to coexist in the boroughs of New York; fairies who are spirits, but at the same time very physical creatures, with the drinking, swearing, and screwing that goes with such a description; and the idea of a revolution of the fairie proletariat after they have been forced into hard, magical manual labour by an evil king.
At the same time, though, the telling of the story is the thing, and I'm not overly fond of the way that Millar told this story. It's awfully fast-paced, never really stopping to catch its own breath, and doesn't really feature all that much evolution in terms of character or plot within the work. Also, none of the characters (save one, Kerry) seem all that likable - I find myself largely not caring if they achieve their goals, because I've never really been given enough reason to care about them as individuals.
I have very mixed feelings about this book, and of the experience of having read it. As a result, I'm not sure I can say that I truly ‘enjoyed' it; it's well-crafted, overall, but at the same time not without its frustrations.
First, the good stuff: there's a hugely epic plot here, ultimately concerned with ensuring the continued survival of the human race; bold, three-dimensional characters who are intriguing, and draw you into their story; plot twists that you truly never see coming, and which are revealed with a subtle mastery that forces you to rethink everything you've read up until that point;and a fascinating, amazingly-thought out world that all of this is set in.
On the other hand, however, the book has its problems, chief of which is its length and pacing. This is a book that is almost one thousand pages long, which by itself I don't have a problem with. Some of my favourite novels and novel series feature lengths like that. While the length isn't a problem, the way the plot develops within that length was a problem for me - I remember at one point thinking to myself “oh, the action is starting to pick up and the plot's finally moving forward”, and then looking at the page number and seeing something in the three hundreds. Then, after another four hundred pages of exciting outer space action, things slow down again for another couple of hundred pages, once again getting exciting for the last hundred pages before finally ending on a cliffhanger. Add to this chapters that were routinely over fifty pages long, and which didn't seem to have any strong internal structure to them, and you're left with a book that I strongly considered giving up on several times during the process of reading it. And yet, at the end, I was left with a strong desire to check out the sequel, which is another thousand page book and will no doubt have many of the same issues.
This was a pretty fun book - a collection of short vignettes on a bunch of different philosophers, such as Karl Marx, Thomas Aquinas, and Soren Kierkegaard. Most of it was the type of stuff you would find in an introductory course on philosophy, but told with a strong sense of humour and a willingness to be irreverent regarding its subject matter (something that I think is essential for any book on philosophy geared towards ‘the masses'). Recommended.
This wasn't my first time reading Watchmen, but it had been awhile since I'd last read it (since before 2001 for sure). It's funny how things go through phases of topicality; I know that last time I read it, I thought it was kind of dated, with its plot elements of war in Afghanistan and Russian military aggression. Sadly, the world has recently gotten caught up in such events again, making Watchmen seem all the more current on this reading.
Aside from that, there's not too much to say about Watchmen that hasn't been said a thousand times already - it's clearly the most important superhero comic since Showcase #4, if not Action #1, and has fundamentally altered the way that people think about and write about superheroes. As such, it's easy to lose track of how revolutionary it must have been when it came out - to someone who grew up reading the ‘grim and gritty' heroes of the late 80s and 90s, or has seen films like The Incredibles, the story contained in these pages would seem like just another comic story that's been told time and time again.
Luckily, however, there's more to the story than just the plot; Moore and Gibbons have created an immensely detailed world in this book, and you definitely feel like it's part of a larger world (even though it isn't), and one that has been uniquely affected by the presence of super-heroes in it to a degree that other super-populated worlds never seem to be. Add to that an ongoing debate about human nature and morality, held by shamanistic creatures that are both human and inhuman at the same time, and you're left with something that will stand the test of time as a work of literature, but is also quite firmly a work of comics literature rather than ‘regular' literature.
And, amazingly enough, the villian wins. In doing so, he saves the world, but at the same time, it's quite the accomplishment. :o)
I only really read this because I recently got a new palm pilot, and the ebook reader with it came with a free copy, but I did end up enjoying it quite a bit.
This is a collection of four short stories revolving around the Starfleet Corps of Engineers - the people that get called in in the Star Trek world whenever some tech needs exploring or fixing.
That partially skewed my perceptions of this book - due to it being about engineers, I was expecting it to be more hard-SF (within the context of Star Trek, still, of course). It wasn't, but the characters were interesting enough that I didn't mind.
This was enjoyable enough, but really nothing special. The ‘plot', such as it was, resolves around an all-girl group called Led Salad as they take part in a bunch of battles of the bands with other bands. Not ‘performing music' battles of the bands, but actual physical battles, with rocket launchers and samurai swords and the like.
Basically, though, the plot is an excuse to hang together a bunch of action scenes, sight gags, and cheesy T&A shots. It's done in a way that's over-the-top and tongue-in-cheek, so it's tolerable, but not anything special.
If you're looking to read comics with rock and roll, you'd be much better served with other titles like Scott Pilgrim or Hopeless Savages. I gave this one 3 stars, but it's really more a 2.5/5 than a true 3.
I was so ready to get snarky about this book, right from the cover art. “Oooo, he's only one volume in and Whedon's already got the super-strong girl alone on the front cover.” However, I did end up really enjoying it - Whedon was able to add significantly to the Runaways storyline, while at the same time keeping the series true to its roots.
The plot, in a nutshell: after being connived into working with the Kingpin, the Runaways find themselves trapped in 1907 New York. There they interact with some local super-powered street gangs, find out about some of the harsher realities of life at the turn of the last century (child marriage, sweatshop labour, etc), and have a run-in with the villianous time-traveling Yorke family. Due to the type of logic only possible in time travel stories, though, it's the Yorkes' first time meeting the Runaways after they've gained their powers, despite the Runaways having met them several times before. There's some tragedy here, as Chase reveals to them that their daughter, Gertrude, has already died in their timeline, meaning that the Yorkes will have to live the rest of their lives knowing that their daughter will die young.