The Shade became an A-lister thanks to his appearances in James Robinson’s Starman series. From there he springboarded into the CW’s excellent Stargirl as a supporting character for two seasons.
It’s surprising to look back and see what a minor player he once was. One appearance in the Golden Age. Then an appearance in the classic story “Flash of Two Worlds,” which introduced the idea the Justice Society and Justice League co-existed on different Earths. There he got to fight alongside the Thinker, Jay Garrick’s arch-foe (seven appearances) and the Fiddler (four). All he could do was blot out light — a useful skill, sure, but not much.
And then the Shade returned.
This was the story that established the Shade could access dimensions of darkness, elevating him beyond a C-lister. Without this story changing his trajectory, he’d be a bar-trivia answer.
What I’m really posting about, though, is the Carmine Infantino cover. I think it’s great. Then smirking, lean figure of the Shade. Jay, trapped. Barry unable to beat his foe. When I saw it as a kid, although I didn’t have the money to spare, I was hooked. Thrilled years later when I acquired it.
The Shade’s career shows even a C-lister has potential. The cover shows — well, while I generally disregard “things were better back in the day” I think the covers were.
Before Greg Rucka’s run on Wonder Woman, he and Jeff Jones turned out a 2002 graphic novel, WONDER WOMAN: The Hiketeia. A young woman invokes the Hiketeia, an ancient Greek ritual, to gain Wonder Woman’s protection. Trouble is, she’s just murdered the Gotham City crooks who sex-trafficked and killed her sister; now Batman shows up and demands Diana give up the killer, never mind about this oath stuff.
Astonishingly the cover is accurate: Wonder Woman kicks Batman’s butt. The “bat god” concept has become so dominant in this century, I absolutely loved seeing him in over his head.
Beyond that? The plot could have been comfortably fitted into a single regular issue. At 90 pages this is a showcase for the art and while Jones is good, he wasn’t 90-pages-with-little-plot good.
In the afterword to BOWLING WITH CORPSES AND OTHER TALES FROM LANDS UNKNOWN writer/artist Mike Mignola said he’d begun thinking of himself as in semi-retirement, then decided nothing he could take up in retirement would be as fun as writing and drawing comics. He adapted the title story from an old Italian folktale, then developed the Lands Unknown as a place to put them. These stories of witches, ghosts, creepy inns (“Don’t share your bed with a corpse, even if the landlord offers you a discount.”) and yes, bowling with a group of flesh-eating corpses, don’t break fresh ground but they’re good and the art is typically amazing.
The follow up volume, URI TUPKA AND THE GODS: A Tale From the Lands Unknown has the eponymous heretic fleeing the inquisition only to encounter bandits, hermits with horror stories, pirates, demon frogs, finally learning the truth about why the gods have withdrawn from the mortal world. The art is again amazing but this spends too much time on the history and geography of the setting. The lurking horror also feels too close to the Oghdru Jahad of Hellboy’s mythos
TRASHED by Derf Backderf is the story of a slacker who winds up taking a job as a garbage man, discovers it’s disgustingly dirty and gross — wow, you could almost make a metaphor for the human condition out of this! This is way too talky and not interesting talk: lectures on how we’re doing sanitation and waste management wrong, how absurdly much waste we create and constant grousing about how shitty the life of a garbage man is. I’d agree with a lot of the sentiments but that doesn’t make them interesting.
Covers by Jones and Mignola; all rights to images remain with current holders.
Following the Phil Jimenez run on Wonder Woman, Walt Simonson took over for a brief arc which I somehow never got around to reviewing (soon, though). This post is about the first year under Greg Rucka, who took over writing next, and also about the first year of Absolute Wonder Woman.
Rucka first worked on Diana in a standalone story, The Hiketeia, which I haven’t read yet. Wonder Woman #196 (cover by Adam Hughes)started a run on the book that ended when Infinite Crisis rebooted everything. For the first year the primary plot driver is Veronica Cale, a Texas businesswoman who bitterly resents that Wonder Woman gets so much applause and acclaim — Cale is the real wonder woman, dammit! Employing skilled PR, Dr. Psycho and the Silver Swan, she sets out to destroy Diana.
In addition we have Eros prompt Zeus to lust for Artemis, leading to Hera hurling Themyscira into U.S. coastal waters. America is wary; the Amazons are equally wary to see US warships patrolling around them. Can the two nations avoid coming to blows?
And as the year winds to a close, Circe helps the gorgons resurrect Medusa. Cale then sends her to kill Diana …
I glanced Rucka’s run a couple of times when it was on the stand. It certainly wasn’t bad but it didn’t give me any urge to buy it. Reading it on the DC app, that hasn’t changed. The heart of the story isn’t the superhero battles, it’s the politics. The challenges on WW as an ambassador for Amazons and a speaker for women’s equality. The mundane day-to-day running of the embassy, with a minotaur as her chef. Cale’s PR maneuvers to discredit Diana. The gods are dressed in modern fashions, reflecting their connections to various modern spheres — our quest for knowledge makes Athena strong, our interest in sex boosts Aphrodite (Zeus doesn’t realize his power is fading by comparison). It feels like this is where Rucka’s heart lies (that’s my impression, not something I know for a fact) but it doesn’t work the way Astro City does with a similar approach.
Take Cale. Her resentment for Diana is the same as the Golden Age Cheetah (cover here by H.G. Peters). Her desire to kill Diana feels way over the top; it’s easier to accept such unhinged hatred when it comes from a woman crazy enough to dress up in a cat costume.
I didn’t expect much better from Absolute Wonder Woman by Kelly Thompson and Hayden Sherman (who does the cover here). The Absolute Universe is one where the creators strip characters of their usual accoutrements: who is Batman without Bruce Wayne’s wealth? Who is Wonder Woman without the Amazons? Yeah, right — like “Wonder Woman without the Amazons” isn’t a go-to for a soft reboot ever since the Diana Prince Years. When I checked V1 and V2 out of the library however, it turns out they’re as good as everyone told me they were.
In the first issue we meet Circe, trapped on an island in the Greek underworld. Apollo drops an infant Diana off, informing Circe that the Amazons are gone — and the very word ‘Amazon’ is forbidden.Years later, Gateway City is under siege by demonic forces when Wonder Woman appears, riding her winged horse Pegasus, as on the cover. Which she explains to Steve Trevor at one point is the real Pegasus, killed and damned to hell by Zeus for some reason. We alternate scenes of Diana’s life in the underworld with her efforts to defend the city from increasingly nasty demonic forces. We also meet her mortal supporting cast: Steve, occultist Etta Candy and reporter Barbara Minerva (so far a “name only” character with no similarity to the original).
In the first arc she saves Gateway City (I’m not sure if that’s a callback to her operating there in John Byrne’s run or the symbolism of the name), then descends to Tartarus for a confrontation with Hades. She wins her freedom at the cost of never returning meaning she’ll never see her mother, Circe, again. Persephone, however, has arranged for Diana to eat a pomegranate seed, which compels her to return for one month of every year. This is a running theme, even if we don’t know where it’s leading: the male Olympians are vicious, the goddesses are backing Diana covertly.
In the second arc we meet the Absolute Veronica Cale, here a hot-shot national security official who sends a version of Dr. Poison against Wonder Woman. This leads to the reveal of a magical maze in which Diana might be able to find other Amazons. Entering she battles against monsters and the Golden Age foe Queen Clea. The current arc involves Cale sending Zatanna against Diana — bad news as Diana is a sorceress like her mom and Zatanna has managed to tap her magic and use it against her (I’m now reading on the app but I haven’t gotten any further yet).
For my money, this is the best WW since the New 52 reboot, possibly the best in this century. Part of the reason is, of course, that it’s a solidly entertaining story. It’s hard to go wrong when Wonder Woman shows up riding a skeletal undead Pegasus. Part of it is also that they get Diana in a way many authors don’t.
A recurring tendency since the New 52 has been to treat Diana as an Amazon warrior first and foremost; there’s a scene in one JLA story where monsters attack and her response is “Yay, something to fight and kill!” In the“Tower of Babel” arc in JLA, the trap for Diana is a mental fantasy in which she’s battling as a warrior, endlessly, something she doesn’t want to break free of.
Not here. There’s a flashback where Artemis wants to test Diana in combat. The young Amazon refuses, having seen too much senseless violence in the underworld. A disgruntled Artemis considers hunting a passing turtle for sport and suddenly Diana’s in her grill: No. You do not hurt it!
In another scene she visits Prometheus for help and convinces the eagle gnawing on his liver to stop.
When she has to send Steve home from the underworld she needs a sacrifice big enough to work such a potent marriage. She sacrifices her right arm, replacing it with a prosthetic of magic.
This is who she is. This is who Wonder Woman should be. I look forward to reviewing Year Two in about eight months.
SIX CRIMSON CRANES by Elizabeth Lim is a Y/A whose protagonist, Shiori, is princess in a fantasy analog of China. Magic is banned so it’s a shock for Shiori to realize not only does she have powers — she’s able to bring a paper bird to life as her sidekick — but so does her stepmother. And those powers may be why Shiori and her six brothers all love stepmommy so much …
Stepmother is, of course, not happy with these discoveries and takes steps: turning the brothers into cranes, exiling Shiori and putting an added curse on her, that if she speaks her brothers will die. Now the princess has to find her brothers, find a cure, break the curse on her and settle with her stepmother.
Although one big reveal was obvious from the first chapter, this worked for me. However the characters come off awfully contemporary — make Shiori and her brothers rich kids from Beverly Hills and it wouldn’t change much. Still, I’m up for reading more in the series eventually.
CANNIBALISM AND THE COMMON LAW: The Story of the Tragic Last Voyage of the Mignonette and the Strange Legal Proceedings to Which It Gave Rise by A.W. Brian Simpson recounts how in 1884, Captain Thomas Dudley and two crewmen were rescued from a lifeboat after the wreck of the yacht Mignonette, which they’d been crewing for a trip to Australia. Recounting their ordeal, they freely admitted they’d engaged in “the custom of the sea,” killing and eating the fourth member of the crew. They had no reason to think this would be a problem for them; as Simpson shows, it happened a lot in the 19th century and the British simply shrugged — tough situation, tough choices, “doctrine of necessity” applies. And for much of the century, the British court system had little say in what happened at sea, though by 1884 that had changed some. The only real objection to the trio’s cannibalism was that according to some versions of their story (they retold it several times) they hadn’t drawn lots to pick the victim but had just killed the weakest link.
What was also changing was that the government was increasingly uncomfortable with a legal doctrine that said killing was okay if it was necessary. Having tried a few years earlier to make a case against cannibalism and failed (it bogged down in imperial bureaucracy) they decided this time they’d succeed. To the surprise of Dudley and his men, they were charged with murder and sort-of found guilty (the judge put his thumb heavily on the scale) so the case could then be kicked up high enough to get a definitive ruling. Everyone involved did this with the intention of getting the trio pardoned — the goal was to establish a principle, not to punish them for their actions — but there was less enthusiasm at higher levels of government. The men ended up serving six months, then went free.
Unlike, say, the book Honor Killing, this is surprisingly lacking in drama. Simpson is approaching this as a legal historian covering a landmark case, not as a true-crime writer. It is not, however, lacking in interest. The book covers the rise of recreational yachting in the 19th century, multiple earlier cases of cannibalism, legal theories as to when cannibalism was justified, land-based cannibalism cases (I learned more about American cannibal Alf Packer than I ever did before), the frequency of shipwrecks (I can see why the Titanic being unsinkable made it such a big deal) and the complexities of the British legal system. Obviously not for everyone but it fits my particular tastes in nerdy reading.
DC Comics continuity has been in disarray ever since the Crisis on Infinite Earths, or more precisely, the endless reboots that followed it. Back in the 1990s, Dan Jurgens tried stabilizing it with the Zero Hour crossover event but reboots kept happening, both system wide (Infinite Crisis, Flashpoint, Convergence) and individual (John Byrne had the Doom Patrol’s history erased so he could start them over from scratch). With THE NEW HISTORY OF THE DC UNIVERSE, Mark Waid and multiple illustrators are giving it another shot.
This gathers the various additions and retcons that have accumulated over the years and turns them into a single timeline. As many of them occurred in the last 15 years or so, and I haven’t been following comics closely (precisely because endless reboots make it hard to get attached to a character), this was interesting to see. Waid also has to account for the multiple reality resets since Infinite Crisis rebooted the post COIE world but explains that the disruptions have finally ceased and stability has been achieved. I’ll be delighted, but I’ll believe it when I see it.
This is obviously not something to read unless you’re seriously curious about this stuff; like Cannibalism and the Common Law this is a book giving you information, not drama. I was glad to have read it, though — and like I said, I hope this does set the stage for a DCU where continuity is no more tangled than it always is.
All rights to images remain with current holders. COIE cover by George Perez.
BORN TO BE POSTHUMOUS: The Eccentric Life and Mysterious Genius of Edward Gorey by Mark Dery reminds me of my friend Ross’s observation that epic biographies should be reserved for people who live epic lives Four hundred pages isn’t epic by 21st century standards but it’s still too big for Gorey’s life.
Gorey was certainly a fascinating person, flamboyant in personal style and grotesquely whimsical in his art. I was surprised to realize he’d died in 2000 — his work seems very much out of another era, which is part of its charm. Despite all of which, his life story isn’t as interesting as the man himself. Dysfunctional family. Flowering in college. Endless details of the plays and the artists he liked, the books he read, the literary friends he made (I’m impressed he had the poet John Ciardi as one of his college teachers). As I often say, it’s not the author’s fault I’m not as interested in the details of the topic as they are; still, the details really don’t seem interesting.
A bigger problem is Dery’s determination to see Gorey as a gay icon. Gorey described himself as uninterested or asexual when the subject came up, though his history shows that may not have been the case. It’s a legit topic for a biographer but Dery really obsesses over it: look at his gay friends, his gay sense of style, his love of Oscar Wilde, his arch, gay sense of humor… by the time we get to any gay subtext in his art I no longer cared. A third, minor problem, is that like many nonfiction writers, Dery tries to make the subject bigger than it is — without Gorey, the graphic-novel industry would never have been open to something as gay as Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home! For various reasons, I think that’s nonsense.
G. K. Chesterton’s second Father Brown collection, THE INCREDULITY OF FATHER BROWN has a number of moments I love. There’s Father Brown explaining the difference between a real mystic and a fake (real mystics tell you everything and you’re mystified; fakes hide everything and when you see it you’re bored), his discourse on vigilantes in “The Arrow of God,” on dressing gowns as a perfect disguise in “The Dagger With Wings” and the killer’s motivation in “The Oracle of the Dog” (“If he had really known the money would come to him, I actually believe he wouldn’t have done it.”). Some of the stories, such as “The Doom of the Darnaways” don’t work half as well. Plus we have Chesterton’s religious biases, for example frowning over the 19th century American secularist Robert Ingersoll (more vicious an enemy of religion than Voltaire!). And did you know Jews were subject to fair less persecution in medieval Europe than Christians (for anyone who doesn’t know religious history, this is blatant anti-Semitic bullshit)? Overall I enjoyed it but I can see why some people avoid the series like the plague.
MARVEL MASTERWORKS: Deathlok the Demolisher by Rich Buckler (who did the striking cover here) and a variety of collaborators, including Doug Moench and Bill Mantlo, was one I read for this month’s Genre Book Club; the theme was cyberpunk and this 1974-76 series is very much proto-cyberpunk.
Luther Manning had been a capable military officer. When war hit the United States in the 1990s, he wound up stepping on a mine after which his CO, Major Ryker, rebuilt him as a cyborg (in a moment that’s now hilarious, the cyborg’s computer program runs on punch cards inserted into his prosthetic arm). “Deathlok” did a good job at first eliminating Ryker’s enemies, then Luther’s consciousness reasserted itself. Now he has two missions: take down Ryker and regain his humanity.
This has many cyberpunk elements: powerful computers, advanced tech, a decaying, violent urban setting, omnipresent surveillance. It’s most distinctive high-tech element is that even after Luther regains his mind, the computer is still in his head. The dialogue between Manning and the “‘puter” is the thing many people who glanced at the series on the stands remember.
In the Bronze Age, it was different from anything else out there, much bleaker than, say, the Atomic Knights (who were in reprint in Strange Adventures in the 1970s). There’s a lot I like, some nice touches (Luther’s in an interracial marriage) but the plotting is often wonky. Ryker’s girlfriend discover he’s a cyborg, then spends the rest of the series comatose, hooked up to a computer to enable more intuitive control of the weapons it commands or something like that. And she’s the chief woman character in the series for most of the run. And it’s really disappointing that while Ryker talks about merging with his computer and becoming “the God Machine,” the reveal is anticlimactic — apparently the entire series is about a turf war for control over New York, nothing more imaginative. A mixed bag, but one I’m glad to have read (this also includes Deathlok’s adventures in the present after his series ended, but I won’t get into that here).
Art by Gorey and Buckler, all rights to images remain with current holders.
When I read James Turner’s Rex Libris about an immortal librarian who’s a one-man army, I called it “enjoyable bizarre.” The sequel REX LIBRIS: The Book of Monsters isn’t as bizarre — it comes closer to a conventional urban fantasy about a monster-fighting hero — but it’s still a lot of fun. The plot involves a reference guide to monsters from which horrors are seeping out into the real world (“This kind of thing never happens with home renovation books.”) and Rex, in turn, gets sucked in and finds unpleasant surprises. While I’d have liked more library adventures, I’d definitely pick up V3 if one had happened. It didn’t.
Version 1.0.0
DC FINEST: Hawkman — Wings Across Time collects the Silver Age Hawkman’s adventures from his debut in Brave and the Bold, then backing up Adam Strange in Mystery In Space, then the first 11 issues of his own book. I already have most of the material in the originals and the missing ones in the Showcase Presents Hawkman black and white book. However it’s nice to have the missing ones in color. All the stories were written by Gardner Fox; Joe Kubert drew the Brave and the Bold adventures, then the art passed to Murphy Anderson (who did the cover here).
The tales are an odd mix. Initially they have a strong pulp feel, then Hawkman and Hawkgirl — cops from the planet Thanagar, studying how Earth police battle crime — take on a string of ordinary thieves with gimmicks, not that different from some of Batman’s foes. In Hawkman proper, we get super-villains and SF mixed. A fun collection.
THE CURIE SOCIETY by Janet Harvey, Sonia Liao and Heather Einhorn has three teenagers recruited into the eponymous secret society of women scientists. Can the underage genius, the young rebel and the overpressured overachiever learn to work together, let alone become friends? How will they deal with an unethical former member offering an alternative approach?
I love the concept but this is the first in a series and spends too much time setting things up for the future rather than standing on its own. I could also have done without a reference to “PLO terrorists” in an early flashbacks — it feels like a gratuitous anti-Arab stereotype, especially as the terrorists play no role in the story otherwise (and the PLO was at the time the Palestinian government, not an active terrorist group). In fairness I am not the target audience.
When I read Walt Kelly’s The Best of Pogoback in 2017, I said I’d have preferred less reminiscences about the classic comic strip and more strips. Turns out our library has POGO: The Complete Syndicated Strips Vol. 1: Through the Wild Blue Yonder so my wish is answered. This covers the initial couple of years of the daily strip, first in the liberal paper The Star, then wider syndication, plus a separate section for the Sunday strips (which ran a separate continuity so a paper could run Pogo six days a week, Sundays only or both).
This really shouldn’t work for me; as a long-time Southerner, a strip stuffed with ignorant, unschooled Bayou folks would normally get my back up (even though they’re mostly good-hearted and sympathetic). However the adventures of lovable Pogo, gluttonous alligator Albert, misanthropic Porkypine and the others come off charming and funny instead.
Much like the same publisher’s Complete Peanuts run, this has several text features: a biography of Kelly, an explanation of how Sunday strips worked (the top two panels were unrelated to the rest so the paper could cut them for space), and explanations of some of the then-contemporary references. It’s a terrific volume though I think having to write and draw the Sunday strips to meet the space limitations worked against Kelly’s strengths. I’ve already reserved V2.
Last month the Genre Book Club’s topic was cozies, which got me to read THE INNOCENCE OF FATHER BROWN by G.K. Chesterton. As I thought, reading this shows how much the style of cozies has changed over the years. Modern cozies like From Beer to Eternity have big supporting casts and play up community and setting. This short-story collection has two recurring characters — Father Brown and the thief turned detective Flambeau — and no fixed setting. The 1970s Father Brown TV series did likewise; the more recent TV show has a much larger supporting cast.
Chesterton is a frustrating man, capable of great insight, great turns of phrase (“Where do you hide a dead leaf? In a dead forest.”) and great bigotry. His anti-Semitism doesn’t figure into these stories but there’s a discussion in “The Wrong Shape” of how all Eastern art is unnatural, wrong and inherently creepy.
At the same time, Chesterton’s storytelling and sense of humor are otherwise delightful. In the opening story, “The Blue Cross,” Flambeau — still a thief — assumes this middle-aged, benign, obviously harmless priest will be easy prey. He’s genuinely shocked to discover that by listening to criminals make confession Father Brown is fully informed about the ways of the underworld (“You — you know about the spiked bracelet?”). Chesterton has a keen understanding of human nature (part of what makes “The Invisible Man” so good) when he’s not blinded by his own biases. Obviously this won’t work for everyone but it still has enough charm I’m glad I reread it.
BLACK MAX Volume III by Frank Pepper, Ken Mennell and Alfonso Font wraps up the saga of WW I ace Maximilian von Klorr who in V1 created a squadron of giant bats, obedient to his every command — now nothing will stop “Black Max” from driving the Allies out of Germany! Alas, British pilot Tim Wilson did indeed stop him, becoming Max’s hated nemesis, a clash that continued on into Volume 2.
V2 worked some changes on the formula and this volume goes even further afield (as I mentioned writing about Von Hoffman’s War, that sort of soft reboot is common enough in British comics). First Black Max strikes an alliance with Gratz, a German scientist with superweapons and an agenda of his own. After Max eventually falls into British hands, he strikes a new alliance with a subterranean race of bat people. It’s a bit too off-brand to be peak Black Max but it still works, though the continued lack of any female characters is not a plus. While the ending leaves the series open for further adventures (if you don’t see the body, they’re not dead) I’m not sorry it ended here,
In WHO COOKED ADAM SMITH’S DINNER? A Story of Women and Economics, Katrine Marçal takes issue with Smith’s explanation for how self-interest moves the world. According to Smith, the grocer and the butcher put dinner on his table because he pays them. This ignores that his widowed mother, who lived with him, cooked Smith’s dinner and otherwise cared for him his entire life.
This leads into a general discussion of how women’s economic contributions — caregiving, cooking, cleaning — are undervalued, if not invisible. This in turn makes it easy to undervalue women and delegate anything too soft and nurturing for ruthless capitalism as women’s work. It’s an interesting book, though some reviews say modern economics is better on these issues than Marçal claims.
Black Max art by Font; all rights to images remain with current holders
Ever since reading Jackie Morse Kessler’s Hunger, I’ve been meaning to follow up with the sequel. I finally got around to RAGE: Riders of the Apocalypse 2 which continues the premise of having Death — a Kurt Cobain lookalike — recruiting teenagers for the remaining three slots of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (though the protagonists of both books are girls). In Hunger, an anorexic becomes Famine; in this one, Missy is a teenager who relieves a boatload of emotion (bad relationship, death of her cat) by cutting; then Death shows up and suddenly she’s got a much bigger sword and the option to cut other people. The book establishes there’s a high turnover rate in War, Famine and Plague, hence the need for new recruits
From some of the reviews on Goodreads, Kessler does a good job capturing the impulses that lead to cutting. However where anorexia feels connected to Famine, cutting yourself hardly mirrors War. Nor does the book deal with war as much as the first book did starvation — it focuses much more on petty feuds, resentments and small-scale violence. Missy’s big struggles with bullying and slut-shaming at school, plus with her family, don’t connect with the main plot other than to add to her stress. The book does better in the straight Y/A stuff, which is not what I expect to enjoy (I am after all, way aged out of the target market). Not a bad book — I do like that Missy’s family really does have some dysfunction, rather than just her misreading everything, everyone was nice all along (a reveal I rarely like) — but a drop from the first too.
THREE LITTLE WISHES by Paul Cornell and Steve Yeowell is an amusing riff on both rom-coms and three wishes fantasies. Kelly, the protagonist, is a lawyer and a stereotypically sensible, head-centered romantic comedy protagonist, the kind who clearly needs to loosen up and become more of a manic pixie.
Acting on a suggestion by her best friend, Kelly impulsively buys the contents of a storage unit in an online auction, then discovers they include the bottled spirit of Oberon, the faerie king — and releasing him gives her yes, three little wishes. Or big wishes. Well, that can’t possibly go wrong, can it?
In this case, it doesn’t. Cornell asks us to imagine what if the protagonist uses their wishes wisely? What if you don’t regret what you wish for? What if being sensible and thinking before you act is a good thing? I don’t think I’m giving too much spoilers — the fun is in how the creators execute all this — but in any case, the story is fun and worth a look.
Covers by Nick Cardy and Yeowell, all rights to images remain with current holders.
It’s been a while since I read anything written rather than co-written by Hellboy creator Mike Mignola. THE SERPENT IN THE GARDEN: Ed Grey and the Last Battle for England by Mignola, Ben Stenbeck and Dave Stewart reminds me how gloriously weird he is. Like a conversation between a disgruntled fae and the good half of Morgan leFay’s soul, which is now a goldfish (trust me, it makes sense).
The story, set in England after the apocalypse that ended the world in Ragna Rok, concerns Hellboy’s old foe the Gruagach regaining his former power; can Edward Grey, happy in retirement, defend England once again? I loved it.
FRANKENSTEIN: New World— Sea of Forever by Mignola, Christopher Golden, Tom Sniegoski and Peter Bergting is a sequel to Frankenstein: New World with Frankenstein and Lilja traveling across the post-apocalyptic Earth pursued by the monstrous Murk. It turns out some of the vampires hiding underground at the apocalypse survived; a trace of ancient evil found them and created the Murk, which exists to suck out the light of vril. As our two protagonists set out across the sea in search of a mysterious spirit, the Murk follows, despite the risk of being caught on the ocean in daylight. I’m enjoying this spinoff series — and both this and the Edward Grey book have been added to my Hellboy Chronology.
Kieron Gillen has turned out some great stuff, but he also wrote the dreary Rue Brittania. POWER FANTASY: The Superpowers by Gillen and Caspar Wijngaard is one that did not work for me. I’ve read that Gillen wanted to write a book with superheroes but no fisticuffs and in that he succeeded. However while the discussions of politics and power work in small doses, by the end of the book they’re quite tedious (I skipped over one character giving a long speech about the nature of power). I won’t be back for V2.
ARDEN HIGH: Twelfth Grade Night by Molly Horton Booth, Stephanie Kate Strohm and Jamie Green is the first in a series of Y/A takes on Shakespeare, set at the eponymous high school. As I love Twelfth Night (and played Malvolio years ago), I was hooked by the premise: new kid in school Viola crushes on Orsino, but she dresses very tomboy so he thinks she’s gay and so does Olivia, the school beauty he’s crushing on. Meanwhile Viola’s still dealing with the fact her identical twin Sebastian chose to stay in boarding school instead of changing schools with her.
Unfortunately the rom-com complications don’t get going until late in the game. Most of the book is about general high school stuff and, I assume, setting up for the series (the kids have fae classmates even though that doesn’t play the slightest role in the plot). I’m not the target audience but even if I was I think I’d find this a little disappointing.
THE CHARLTON COMPANION: A History of the Derby, Connecticut Publisher and Its Comic Books by Jon B. Cooke is a fascinating read even though I never got into Charlton’s output as a kid or a teen. Its offerings were much closer to DC and Marvel than, say, Harvey Comics or Gold Key but the look and quality of the printing were off-putting, as was the lettering (I learned from Cooke that for years the company avoided paying letterers and simply typed directly onto the finished pages). Nevertheless, this was fascinating — Charlton turns out to be more colorful than, say, Quality Comics.
Company founder John Santangelo was an Italian immigrant who broke into publishing by printing songbooks, a hugely popular field a century ago. His business was more profitable than most due to the simple expedient of not paying royalties; he was eventually caught, served some time and paid up from then on. He was a generally sharp operator; after a flood wrecked the company’s offices and printing press he slashed pay rates for freelancers without mentioning all the money they’d received as relief from the government
As the songbook market slowed, Santangelo turned to all sorts of other options: music magazines, skin magazines, paperbacks and of course comics. Love stories by the ton
Horror anthologies such as The Many Ghosts of Dr. Graves.
Superhero books such as Steve Ditko’s Captain Atom and Blue Beetle, a short-lived line that inspired Watchmen (Dick Giordano, the former Charlton editor who convinced Moore to come up with new heroes instead, says in hindsight he wishes Moore had used the Charlton characters as they’d have a much higher profile now). And war comics, racing comics, kaiju comics such as Konga and Gorgo … While the pay rates were crap, that left Santagelo and his crew open to using a lot of newbies (Len Wein, Steve Skeates, Denny O’Neil and others who’d go on to bigger and better things) and several interviewees said they enjoyed the freedom that went with the low rates. Though I don’t see many examples of creative freedom involved — even Ditko’s heroes aren’t radically different from DC or Marvel. Was “creative freedom” just a euphemism for “I could turn my story in and never have to change anything”? Which a number of the creators freely admitted they were doing.
Charlton could have been much bigger than it was. It had an advantage in that as part of a bigger publishing company they had their own printing presses in house; over the years though, that meant it was more expensive for them to upgrade the presses than DC or Marvel, who outsourced. And Santangelo didn’t like expensive; he was cheap. One of the many anecdotes mentions one hallway that was almost unusable because it was stuffed with old, worn-out printing plates; rather than sell them and free up space, Santagelo was determined to wait until the scrap metal price rose.
A colorful company to read about, even if the comics turned me off.
All rights to images remain with current holders. Captain Atom and Blue Beetle covers by Ditko, the other two are uncredited.