Think of this entry as the first in a continuing series. "Things You Might Enjoy, If You Enjoy The Sort Of Thing" is where I take the chance to review comics that aren't on my class syllabus. They may not be new, or obscure, or anything like that--they're just comics that I like, that I think are good, and that I think people should read.
So, without further ado:
Neil Gaiman's Midnight Days
Neil Gaiman
Neil Gaiman's Midnight Days is a book Vertigo put out a few years ago, a collection of miniseries and one-shots and other things Neil Gaiman wrote for them that hadn't been collected previously. It's called Midnight Days because, according to Neil Gaiman in the introduction, most of the scripts for these stories were written after midnight, "when the world was quiet and there was no-one left to talk to." So you might be able to guess that they're fairly weird.
I promise I won't spoil anything. I won't say anything that isn't in some way already mentioned in the introductions to the stories.
The first three are Swamp Thing stories. The very first one is the second comics script Neil Gaiman ever wrote, illustrated by Steve Bissette and John Totleben specifically for the collection. There's a Swamp Thing Annual, which doesn't really have much Swamp Thing in it at all, but does have Brother Power the Geek, possibly one of the weirdest characters to ever grace a comics page. And then there's "Shaggy God Stories," which is a story about Jason Woodrue, the Floronic Man. That one, besides being written by Neil Gaiman, was illustrated by Mike Mignola, though one wouldn't necessarily guess it. This is pre-chunky-awesome-Hellboy-type art, I guess.
After the Swamp Thing stories, there's one about John Constantine. It's called "Hold Me," and it's illustrated by Dave McKean, and Neil Gaiman says it's one of his favorites of his own short stories. It's beautiful. And it hurts to read, a little bit. It's mostly about loneliness.
Finishing up the book is the unnaturally awesome Sandman Mystery Theatre, which has the distinction of being written by Neil Gaiman, but plotted out by Matt Wagner, the amazing man who does Grendel and Mage. For the most part, Sandman Mystery Theatre stories are about Wesley Dodds, the original DC Sandman, this badass crime fighter in the 1930s and 40s who wore a gas mask and sprinkled sand on the people he caught.
This story, however, is about both Wesley Dodds and Morpheus, the main character in Neil Gaiman's equally awesome Sandman series, which you've probably heard of if you read comics at all. So it's by two writers who are really good, about two characters who are really interesting. Also, the whole story was painted by an artist named Teddy Kristiansen, who does beautiful work. It's like a combination of Dave McKean, art nouveau, and pure sexy detective-story joy.
Given my love of Neil Gaiman, it's no surprise that I like this collection, but don't think that makes it any less good. It's a wonderful group of stories. They're sad and funny and occasionally creepy as hell, and the writing is beautiful, and they're all accompanied by lovely pictures. The collection's also about eighteen bucks new, which isn't exorbitantly expensive, and it's certainly worth it for something this awesome.
So go. Read. Share and enjoy.
Showing posts with label week 2. Show all posts
Showing posts with label week 2. Show all posts
03 February 2008
Liking Superheroes Is Nothing To Be Ashamed Of
Essex County Volume 1: Tales from the Farm
Jeff Lemire
Possible spoilers
Something I mentioned in my last post that I think warrants further discussion is Lester's comic, the one originally drawn and written by Jeff Lemire at the age of nine. Mainly I think it's worth looking at because it's good evidence of where he started from, comics-wise.
First off, the art. Even here he doesn't use a lot of shading. Not that nine-year-olds often do, but his art now is still very much like this--more competent, more abstract, but primarily just line art, with all shadows in one shade of black. The people aren't that bad either; this child is in need of an anatomy book, but given the shapes of the muscles and the poses in which they stand, at least he's been observing and absorbing the world around him. Can't say much for consistency, but it's no worse than, say, a low-budget cartoon from the Seventies. Inconsistent enough to be noticeable, but not enough to really make someone wince.
The writing is...well, it's a kid-written superhero comic. It's not terribly complex. Villain escapes from jail, superhero fights him, villain is sent back to jail. But I always like to see a kid writing something.
Mainly it just makes me sad that this is the only real example of a superhero comic that comes up in a story about a child obsessed with superheroes. Combined with Lester's abandonment of his mask and cape at the end of the story, it serves to imply that superhero stories are only for children, and that once you grow up you can't really think they're cool anymore. I mean, Jeff Lemire obviously started off liking superheroes, given that he drew that minicomic too, but in his interview this week on the podcast Indie Spinner Rack, he seemed almost ashamed to admit that he still does.
And that's sad. Superheroes are really pretty awesome, and can themselves be vehicles for wonderful, serious stories--witness The Dark Knight Returns, for example, or anything by Alan Moore with superheroes in it (like Supreme: The Story of the Year or the Top 10 books).
Caped crusaders and men of mystery are not just for children. I mean, I may act childish sometimes, but most of the really enjoyable serious literature discussions I've had with people were about comics. Superhero comics. Just as I've had other cool analytical discussions with friends about, say, books I read for the first time when I was eight.
Just because it gets marketed to kids doesn't mean it's for them.
Jeff Lemire
Possible spoilers
Something I mentioned in my last post that I think warrants further discussion is Lester's comic, the one originally drawn and written by Jeff Lemire at the age of nine. Mainly I think it's worth looking at because it's good evidence of where he started from, comics-wise.
First off, the art. Even here he doesn't use a lot of shading. Not that nine-year-olds often do, but his art now is still very much like this--more competent, more abstract, but primarily just line art, with all shadows in one shade of black. The people aren't that bad either; this child is in need of an anatomy book, but given the shapes of the muscles and the poses in which they stand, at least he's been observing and absorbing the world around him. Can't say much for consistency, but it's no worse than, say, a low-budget cartoon from the Seventies. Inconsistent enough to be noticeable, but not enough to really make someone wince.
The writing is...well, it's a kid-written superhero comic. It's not terribly complex. Villain escapes from jail, superhero fights him, villain is sent back to jail. But I always like to see a kid writing something.
Mainly it just makes me sad that this is the only real example of a superhero comic that comes up in a story about a child obsessed with superheroes. Combined with Lester's abandonment of his mask and cape at the end of the story, it serves to imply that superhero stories are only for children, and that once you grow up you can't really think they're cool anymore. I mean, Jeff Lemire obviously started off liking superheroes, given that he drew that minicomic too, but in his interview this week on the podcast Indie Spinner Rack, he seemed almost ashamed to admit that he still does.
And that's sad. Superheroes are really pretty awesome, and can themselves be vehicles for wonderful, serious stories--witness The Dark Knight Returns, for example, or anything by Alan Moore with superheroes in it (like Supreme: The Story of the Year or the Top 10 books).
Caped crusaders and men of mystery are not just for children. I mean, I may act childish sometimes, but most of the really enjoyable serious literature discussions I've had with people were about comics. Superhero comics. Just as I've had other cool analytical discussions with friends about, say, books I read for the first time when I was eight.
Just because it gets marketed to kids doesn't mean it's for them.
01 February 2008
The Joys of Black and White
Essex County Volume 1: Tales from the Farm
Jeff Lemire
So I didn't necessarily like the story. I'm willing to reconsider, but that's where I stand for now. I did, however, like the art.
I love art that's highly detailed and richly colored, like anything by Michael Zulli--volume ten of Sandman is good for that. I like crazy Dave McKean-style collage-painting-cutup art like in Arkham Asylum, and I like things that are really cartoony. But sometimes I also just like straight black-and-white line art.
What I think is particularly interesting about Jeff Lemire's art is the intense high contrast he's got going. There are no in-between colours, just black and white. Things are shaded, but the shading doesn't vary. The only time we ever see gray is in flashbacks, which basically just substitute gray for black, and it's still always the same kind of gray. And then there's Lester's comic, which Jeff Lemire actually drew when he was nine. It's awkward, but still fairly confident for a nine-year-old. And it's so cute, too.
I also like the way he draws faces. They're very expressive, in a way that's interesting, because for the most part they don't actually move a lot. Jimmy, with his huge brick of a nose, is particularly fun to look at, because given that he used to be a hockey player, we know how it got that spread out. He's probably gotten it broken a lot. Kenny's face is also interesting, mainly because it has more lines than any other face in the comic book. He has super-lines.
Lester isn't actually much to look at without his little mask and cape. He's a fairly ordinary looking kid. Nose is a little pointier than normal, though. Jeff Lemire does a lot with noses.
Mainly I just really like the first three pages--not counting the "Summer" section page. They're very spare; the sky doesn't even have clouds. And I'm always a sucker for flight. It's also the only time when we really get to see all the buildings on the main farm compound, which I just like from a setting standpoint.
I don't know whether I'd necessarily read Essex County Volume 2. But I'd certainly like to see what it looks like.
Jeff Lemire
So I didn't necessarily like the story. I'm willing to reconsider, but that's where I stand for now. I did, however, like the art.
I love art that's highly detailed and richly colored, like anything by Michael Zulli--volume ten of Sandman is good for that. I like crazy Dave McKean-style collage-painting-cutup art like in Arkham Asylum, and I like things that are really cartoony. But sometimes I also just like straight black-and-white line art.
What I think is particularly interesting about Jeff Lemire's art is the intense high contrast he's got going. There are no in-between colours, just black and white. Things are shaded, but the shading doesn't vary. The only time we ever see gray is in flashbacks, which basically just substitute gray for black, and it's still always the same kind of gray. And then there's Lester's comic, which Jeff Lemire actually drew when he was nine. It's awkward, but still fairly confident for a nine-year-old. And it's so cute, too.
I also like the way he draws faces. They're very expressive, in a way that's interesting, because for the most part they don't actually move a lot. Jimmy, with his huge brick of a nose, is particularly fun to look at, because given that he used to be a hockey player, we know how it got that spread out. He's probably gotten it broken a lot. Kenny's face is also interesting, mainly because it has more lines than any other face in the comic book. He has super-lines.
Lester isn't actually much to look at without his little mask and cape. He's a fairly ordinary looking kid. Nose is a little pointier than normal, though. Jeff Lemire does a lot with noses.
Mainly I just really like the first three pages--not counting the "Summer" section page. They're very spare; the sky doesn't even have clouds. And I'm always a sucker for flight. It's also the only time when we really get to see all the buildings on the main farm compound, which I just like from a setting standpoint.
I don't know whether I'd necessarily read Essex County Volume 2. But I'd certainly like to see what it looks like.
29 January 2008
Things Like This Are Why I Hate Realism
Spoilers. Maybe.
Essex County Volume 1: Tales from the Farm
Jeff Lemire
So first off, let me say that I think this was a very good comic. It was beautifully written, well-plotted, and very moving. I loved the art style, which was very minimalist and intense, and I always like black and white. And I also like Canada.
However, I can't say that I actually liked the comic. When I finished reading it for the first time, I wanted to curl into a little ball of misery. It was beautiful, like I said, and I appreciate beauty, but beauty doesn't equal love, and I can't love something so unrelentingly bleak. I read it a couple of times, yes, and if asked to describe it, the first word I'd probably use is "realistic." And by realistic, I mean from the life-is-misery school of realism. There were a few happy moments--for example, the scene in which Lester shows Jimmy the comic he drew--but for the most part it was unrelentingly depressing.
This isn't a problem I have just with this book. It's a problem I have with "realistic" fiction in general. I don't see why stories of any sort, to be both realistic and a serious work of literature, must by necessity be intensely depressing.
I don't, of course, demand that everything realistic be funny, because that wouldn't itself be realistic. That'd be comedy. But I would like to see people acknowledge that life can actually be something other than gray drudgery, alienation, and death. Sometimes things end happily. Sometimes the good guys win and the nice guy gets the hot girl. Or hot guy, as the case may be. Closest thing to realistic I've read recently that actually made me smile was American Born Chinese, and that has the goddamn Monkey King in it. American Born Chinese got sad and painful, but then in the end things turned out all right--and this is what so many realistic authors I've read don't seem to realize.
...I suppose that besides the general depressingness of it, the other reason I didn't like Tales from the Farm was because, in the end, it strikes me as a story about the death of imagination. It could be some sort of Tempest allegory, some weird little-Canadian-boy version of a wizard who breaks his staff and throws away his books. But mainly it seems to me like a story about a boy who has a fantasy that he loves, and which may in fact be reality, and who has to give it up in the face of life sucking.
And that...that just makes me sad.
Essex County Volume 1: Tales from the Farm
Jeff Lemire
So first off, let me say that I think this was a very good comic. It was beautifully written, well-plotted, and very moving. I loved the art style, which was very minimalist and intense, and I always like black and white. And I also like Canada.
However, I can't say that I actually liked the comic. When I finished reading it for the first time, I wanted to curl into a little ball of misery. It was beautiful, like I said, and I appreciate beauty, but beauty doesn't equal love, and I can't love something so unrelentingly bleak. I read it a couple of times, yes, and if asked to describe it, the first word I'd probably use is "realistic." And by realistic, I mean from the life-is-misery school of realism. There were a few happy moments--for example, the scene in which Lester shows Jimmy the comic he drew--but for the most part it was unrelentingly depressing.
This isn't a problem I have just with this book. It's a problem I have with "realistic" fiction in general. I don't see why stories of any sort, to be both realistic and a serious work of literature, must by necessity be intensely depressing.
I don't, of course, demand that everything realistic be funny, because that wouldn't itself be realistic. That'd be comedy. But I would like to see people acknowledge that life can actually be something other than gray drudgery, alienation, and death. Sometimes things end happily. Sometimes the good guys win and the nice guy gets the hot girl. Or hot guy, as the case may be. Closest thing to realistic I've read recently that actually made me smile was American Born Chinese, and that has the goddamn Monkey King in it. American Born Chinese got sad and painful, but then in the end things turned out all right--and this is what so many realistic authors I've read don't seem to realize.
...I suppose that besides the general depressingness of it, the other reason I didn't like Tales from the Farm was because, in the end, it strikes me as a story about the death of imagination. It could be some sort of Tempest allegory, some weird little-Canadian-boy version of a wizard who breaks his staff and throws away his books. But mainly it seems to me like a story about a boy who has a fantasy that he loves, and which may in fact be reality, and who has to give it up in the face of life sucking.
And that...that just makes me sad.
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