October
25,
2006
Neil Gaiman’s The Absolute Sandman, vol. 1
is unquestionably the best book I own, considered solely as a physical artifact. Inside of an attractive slipcover is a gorgeously leather-bound oversized volume with embossed lettering and well-sewn bindings. And inside the covers is the best version of the first 20 issues of The Sandman ever put between covers — The first 18 issues are totally recolored, which makes them feel much more modern and of a piece with the later stories than they did in the original versions.
This is, in short, a book so well-made that almost everyone should buy it just to put it on their shelves and admire it. But it’s also worth owning for the actual content, which starts out a bit uneven, but very quickly gets great. And besides, you’re going to want to get the next three volumes, so why not get the full matched set?
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October
25,
2006
When I reviewed the earlier volumes of Invincible, I said that there was too much superhero and not enough civilian, so it’s a bit weird to say that Robert Kirkman’s Invincible, vol. 6
has our protagonist in costume for basically the entire book, but still feels satisfactorily civilian-esque. But the secret is that he’s off-planet for most of the book (yes, this definitely is that kind of cosmic superhero book), and off-planet, he can be just a guy no matter what clothes he’s wearing. Overall, this remains a brightly-colored piece of light superhero adventure. Not great, but pretty good.
Then there’s Robert Kirkman’s The Walking Dead, vol. 5
, which nobody will ever accuse of being light or brightly-colored, and not just because it’s in black-and-white. Our story of the zombie apocalypse continues, with the main characters seemingly at a place where they can relax and regroup... which means it’s time for some bad shit to go down, of course. Which it proceeds to do in a way that’s narratively satisfying and sets the next volume up very interestingly. If you’ve been reading this, keep on keepin’ on.
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October
24,
2006
One of the problem with buying comics in graphic novel form is that you don’t get in the habit of buying them monthly, so occasionally you forget to buy new volumes. That’s precisely what happened with Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing vols. 5 and 6
; I’d bought the first four years ago, read them, enjoyed them, and then forgot to check if any more were coming. Well, two more did, and I got to read them recently-ish.
I don’t seem to have written up the earlier volumes here (probably because I read them before I started this thing), so let me speak generally about Moore’s whole run on Swamp Thing when I say that these books — written in the early-to-mid ‘80s — are flat-out excellent. Obviously, Watchmen was Moore’s big breakout work, so there’s a tendency to think of the stuff he wrote before that as being just precursors of his later greatness, but that does a disservice to Swamp Thing, which takes a generic horror comic background and turns it in very unexpected directions — from the personal to the cosmic, back again, and then all mixed together.
It might not be Watchmen, but this is till above-average Alan Moore, better than just about any of his later stuff (which is still in its turn usually better than other writers’ best).
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October
14,
2006
Terry Pratchett’s Wintersmith
is the latest of his allegedly-YA Discworld novels, and it’s the one that sheds the last hint of YA disguise. There’s nothing at all YA about this novel, and it’s a straightforward witches/Tiffany Aching Discworld book.
There’s nothing here that’ll be new or original to a longtime Discworld reader — there are bits about how witches fool people (straight out of any book with Granny Weatherwax), about the mystical significance of the seasons changing (right out of Hogfather), and so on. But, dang it, it’s still good stuff and absolutely worth reading. Not a
Night Watch
, but at least a
Thud!
.
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October
14,
2006
After reading Neil Gaiman’s Fragile Things
, I’ve realized that Gaiman’s work these days just really doesn’t impress me. I’m not sure if it’s that Gaiman’s gotten worse, that I’m just over-familiar with his style, or what; but definitely, I don’t look forward to Gaiman’s books like I used to, and I don’t leave them particularly impressed.
But I do tend to leave them moderately respectful. Fragile Things is a perfectly adequate collection of short stories, almost all of which are “Is it or isn’t it?” quasi-supernatural stories — the kind that read as automatically fantastic to a fantasy reader, but which are textually implicit enough that it could all be metaphor and allegory and various other literary devices of your choosing. The sort of stuff that would be at home in a staid, buttoned-down literary journal where it wouldn’t have to worry custodians of respectability.
Recommended to people who are looking for a collection of pleasantly diverting sorta-ghost stories, but temper your expectations if you’re a Gaiman fan.
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October
9,
2006
Garth Ennis’ John Constantine: Hellblazer
is supposed to be totally awesome, but it’s absolutely not. It’s a remarkably flat story, with a basically uninteresting plot and no characterization to speak of. There’s a Keanu Reeves movie based on this book, and the movie is much, much better (and has a better plot resolution). See that instead. (Do latter Constantine books get any better? I’m vaguely interested in reading them, but not if they stay this dull.)
Garth Ennis’ Ghost Rider: The Road to Damnation
is not bettered by a movie, but only because 1) the Ghost Rider movie isn’t out yet, and 2) it has Nicolas Cage in it, so will suck. Otherwise, it almost certainly would be, as it’s a boring story that struggles to fit Ghost Rider into it, and essentially fails. This is less Ghost Rider and more Eternal Struggle Between Heaven and Hell, Guest-Starring Ghost Rider; it could easily be part of the same universe as the Constantine book. There’s no reason at all to read it.
On the basis of these two books, I have to believe that Garth Ennis is a talentless hack, and that people who’ve said he’s a good writer are insane crazy people. I’m deliberately not seeking out anything else of his.
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October
9,
2006
Remember what I was saying a while back about a moratorium on pointless origin story retellings? Well, Brian Michael Bendis’ Spider-Woman: Origin
completely ignores it, and therefore manages to be utterly disposable. Hey, it’s Spider-Woman, getting her powers! Hooray, and yawn.
Bendis’ Ultimate Marvel Team-Up: Ultimate Collection
is nearly as disposable. The idea here is that Spider-Man teams up with other heroes in the Ultimate universe to, you know, do stuff. In theory, this is fine. But in practice, it’s lame, because 1) a lot of the people he’s pairing up with haven’t been previously established in the Ultimate universe, so are portrayed in non-thought-through ways, in some cases totally contradicting later solo books (ah, continuity problems — so much for that Ultimate universe reboot thing), but mostly 2) the team-ups end up with Spider-Man not having anything to do, and just hopping around making quips. Lame. On the plus side, though, each issue is drawn by a different person, so there’s that really cool diversity of art style thing going on. This is the rare book that’s more interesting visually than literarily.
Finally, there’s Bendis’ The New Avengers, vol. 4: The Collective
. This is a basically okay book, and if you’ve been reading the series through now, you’ll want to read this. But it’s not going to persuade anyone else to start. It’s nothing particularly special, plus is too tied-in with the House of M crossover storyline thing. Don’t change your pre-existing plans toward reading this book either way, I say.
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