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davramlocke's Reviews (777)
Like many books, the Dark is Rising sequence seems to have escaped me as a child. You'd think the teachers who recommended the Narnia books might have seen fit to pass this one along as well, but they didn't, and so twenty years after I should have read it, I finally made my way through the quaint little tale of Over Sea, Under Stone. My rating probably seems low considering the esteem this series has, but I believe it is due to the nature of this book rather than its content. I could be wrong in that, but I hope I'm not because I'd like to read the rest of the series.
I should explain myself. I feel like Over Sea, Under Stone is an origin story of sorts. It has introduced integral plot characters, introduced important devices (such as the Grail), and given a background for future events. In and of itself, I didn't think that this first book of the series was great. I enjoyed it. It's quaint and charming in that way that only British novels seem to be. Thankfully I did not find it very childish, and indeed the writing is more complicated than I might have expected from something found in a junior fiction section. However, as a complete tale in and of itself, I found most of Over Sea, Under Stone to be somewhat bland. But as I said, I knew this was a series going in to it, and ever at the back of my mind was the idea that this was but a genesis for the rest of a sweeping and epic tale involving King Arthur and all the things I loved as a child (and still do love because I haven't much grown up). So I will continue to read this series, and I hope the series titled next book, The Dark is Rising, lives up to my expectations for it.
I should explain myself. I feel like Over Sea, Under Stone is an origin story of sorts. It has introduced integral plot characters, introduced important devices (such as the Grail), and given a background for future events. In and of itself, I didn't think that this first book of the series was great. I enjoyed it. It's quaint and charming in that way that only British novels seem to be. Thankfully I did not find it very childish, and indeed the writing is more complicated than I might have expected from something found in a junior fiction section. However, as a complete tale in and of itself, I found most of Over Sea, Under Stone to be somewhat bland. But as I said, I knew this was a series going in to it, and ever at the back of my mind was the idea that this was but a genesis for the rest of a sweeping and epic tale involving King Arthur and all the things I loved as a child (and still do love because I haven't much grown up). So I will continue to read this series, and I hope the series titled next book, The Dark is Rising, lives up to my expectations for it.
The description for this book made it sound wonderful. It was all about imagination but with some heart and some sorrow and a bunch of adventure. What I read instead was a disjointed and humorless account of a boy trying to make it through hypoglycemic shock by winning a fantasy war inside his head. The writing is lackluster, does not flow in any way that could follow, and doesn't tell a particularly interesting story despite the premise. The characters are shallow, at least they appear to be. No depth is ever plumbed for any of them, even the main character. We know a few things about his family, and that he is diabetic, but that's about it. The other characters are all paper masks floating about the story with no impact at all despite the fact that their names are often shouted with multiple exclamation points. This might have worked had it been about three times as long and actually gone into some detail about any of the setting or any of the characters. It's well drawn, but the dialogue and text doesn't really jive with the art, making me wonder if the artist and writer even knew each other that well.
I had a hard time wanting to bother finishing this book. I probably did for the sole reason of marking it finished on Goodreads and adding to my books read total. That's a terrible reason for reading any book, and which I think is reflective of my experience here. Disappointment.
I had a hard time wanting to bother finishing this book. I probably did for the sole reason of marking it finished on Goodreads and adding to my books read total. That's a terrible reason for reading any book, and which I think is reflective of my experience here. Disappointment.
Alan Moore writes Lovecraftian fiction better than Lovecraft did. That's a bold statement, but I don't feel that Lovecraft was widely known for his crisp and brain-hugging prose so much as he was known for his dark and creepy imagination. Moore has the imagination and the lyrical prowess to present it, and it shows in this short graphic novel about an FBI agent who finds the alluring call of Cthulu.
The story begins in a semi-dystopic town with oodles of grit and an obvious subculture where strange things are happening. AKA, Lovecraft. But it devolves into something truly Cthonic (is that a word?) and the art style shows this fairly well. It's maybe not as surreal as I'd like. When I envision the strange world of Lovecraft, sharp images and well-colored panels do not spring to mind. Complete madness springs to mind, and while Burrows art-work is pretty, I'm not sure it matches Moore's wordiness in a truly inspirational way. Nevertheless, I enjoyed The Courtyard enough that I'm itching to get my hands on its follow-up, the Neonomicon.
The story begins in a semi-dystopic town with oodles of grit and an obvious subculture where strange things are happening. AKA, Lovecraft. But it devolves into something truly Cthonic (is that a word?) and the art style shows this fairly well. It's maybe not as surreal as I'd like. When I envision the strange world of Lovecraft, sharp images and well-colored panels do not spring to mind. Complete madness springs to mind, and while Burrows art-work is pretty, I'm not sure it matches Moore's wordiness in a truly inspirational way. Nevertheless, I enjoyed The Courtyard enough that I'm itching to get my hands on its follow-up, the Neonomicon.
I've heard mixed things about Y: The Last Man. It's certainly an interesting concept. Yorick is the last man on Earth after a horrible plague takes out every living creature with a Y chromosome. Such a thing could easily devolve into something less than savory, but Vaughan manages to keep the story pure while keeping much of the dialogue light, which makes it work most of the time.
The story itself is interesting, and while it, so far, seems to be a little hokey, there is also some intelligent discussion within and I'm hoping it continues to poke and prod at logical explanations instead of magic rings and voodoo talismans. I'm certainly not against magic rings, I'm quite pro-magic ring actually. I just feel like something that deals with genetics and disease should be more believable. So here's hoping. This first volume has captured me, so I'll certainly check out what comes next.
The story itself is interesting, and while it, so far, seems to be a little hokey, there is also some intelligent discussion within and I'm hoping it continues to poke and prod at logical explanations instead of magic rings and voodoo talismans. I'm certainly not against magic rings, I'm quite pro-magic ring actually. I just feel like something that deals with genetics and disease should be more believable. So here's hoping. This first volume has captured me, so I'll certainly check out what comes next.
What a strange book. On the surface it's about two high school friends, girls, who are "hipster", bitchy, snarky little observers of the human condition. They travel around their small town saying mean things about nearly everyone, and have this strange almost marriage-like relationship. But there's more going on, some kind of social commentary on youth and the disillusionment of smart people living in dull places. There is a lot to commiserate with, but at the same time you pity the characters because they seem to be incapable about being genuine. Then they'll surprise you with touches of emotion towards one another that seem to flip the story on its head.
Oddly, the movie version of this, which I saw before I read the book, is vastly different. Maybe not worse, and maybe thematically and stylistically similar, but it attaches greater importance to at least one relatively minor character in the book.
Oddly, the movie version of this, which I saw before I read the book, is vastly different. Maybe not worse, and maybe thematically and stylistically similar, but it attaches greater importance to at least one relatively minor character in the book.
Tim Sale is probably my favorite comic book artist, at least of those in comics that are purely artists and not writers. I suppose I'll always have a bias to those who write and draw the entire book. Spider-Man:Blue is another collaboration between he and Jeph Loeb, and it's one of the best Spider-Man comics you could read. It tells a pretty touching story about Peter Parker's first love, a relatively unknown girl named Gwen Stacy (who will probably get her due because she's being played by Emma Stone in the upcoming flick).
The book is clear right from the start: Gwen Stacey was killed. To those knowledgeable about their Spiderman lore, this is not news. The Green Goblin threw her off the Brooklyn Bridge, much like he did with Mary Jane in the first movie, only Parker doesn't save her. She dies, which is rare in the comic book world, but also offers an opportunity for readers to catch a glimpse of a vulnerable side of a super-hero that is often, not to get too punny, masked.
Spider-Man: Blue manages to tell a touching story about a guy who still thinks about his first love years later, despite being married and have passed the grieving period. He recalls meeting Gwen, and the rogue's gallery of villains he had to square off against during that courting period. It further humanizes him in this way by showing that while he is striving to save a city from a bunch of super-powered psychopaths, that what he really wants is to find a little love in his life. It's well written and extremely well drawn/colored. A classic Spider-Man.
The book is clear right from the start: Gwen Stacey was killed. To those knowledgeable about their Spiderman lore, this is not news. The Green Goblin threw her off the Brooklyn Bridge, much like he did with Mary Jane in the first movie, only Parker doesn't save her. She dies, which is rare in the comic book world, but also offers an opportunity for readers to catch a glimpse of a vulnerable side of a super-hero that is often, not to get too punny, masked.
Spider-Man: Blue manages to tell a touching story about a guy who still thinks about his first love years later, despite being married and have passed the grieving period. He recalls meeting Gwen, and the rogue's gallery of villains he had to square off against during that courting period. It further humanizes him in this way by showing that while he is striving to save a city from a bunch of super-powered psychopaths, that what he really wants is to find a little love in his life. It's well written and extremely well drawn/colored. A classic Spider-Man.
I'd heard about Hicksville while reading another graphic novel, and I'm glad I did because this is one of the best I've read. It's an homage to comics, a glimpse into the life of a strange New Zealand town, and a parable of sorts about the ills of ill-gotten gains. It also tells a great story with a bunch of interesting characters, and in the end that's kind of the point of these book things.
The story begins with a comics journalist making his way to a small town called Hicksville, the birthplace of one of the world's biggest comics writers. In Horrocks vision, popular comics writers share the esteem and celebrity of any triple A movie star or musician. The writer in question, the wonderfully named Dick Burger, is a super-star with movie deals and TV spin-offs and the kind of lifestyle you'd expect to see on a VH1 special (do those still happen?). But there's a story behind his fame that is not altogether wholesome, and the majority of Hicksville is Leonard Batts' attempt to uncover the secrets behind this mans fame. Along the way he meets the residents of Hicksville, a utopia of comics awareness where everyone reads them, and most people seem to publish them in some form or other. It's a graphic novel Mecca, obscure, but known to the true artists and writers of the world.
Hicksville is told as a story, but there are so many meta moments within it that sometimes that story is hard to remember. Characters within the story read comics, and as they read them, so too does the reader, so that sometimes it's difficult to remember where the actual thread of the tale stands. But Horrocks always manages to bring it around, and in doing so rewards us with these meta-experiences.
This is the type of title I would recommend to just anyone. Having some knowledge of the history behind comics isn't essential, but it's surely helpful, and at the very least I'd recommend waiting until you've wet your feet into the genre before diving into Hicksville.
The story begins with a comics journalist making his way to a small town called Hicksville, the birthplace of one of the world's biggest comics writers. In Horrocks vision, popular comics writers share the esteem and celebrity of any triple A movie star or musician. The writer in question, the wonderfully named Dick Burger, is a super-star with movie deals and TV spin-offs and the kind of lifestyle you'd expect to see on a VH1 special (do those still happen?). But there's a story behind his fame that is not altogether wholesome, and the majority of Hicksville is Leonard Batts' attempt to uncover the secrets behind this mans fame. Along the way he meets the residents of Hicksville, a utopia of comics awareness where everyone reads them, and most people seem to publish them in some form or other. It's a graphic novel Mecca, obscure, but known to the true artists and writers of the world.
Hicksville is told as a story, but there are so many meta moments within it that sometimes that story is hard to remember. Characters within the story read comics, and as they read them, so too does the reader, so that sometimes it's difficult to remember where the actual thread of the tale stands. But Horrocks always manages to bring it around, and in doing so rewards us with these meta-experiences.
This is the type of title I would recommend to just anyone. Having some knowledge of the history behind comics isn't essential, but it's surely helpful, and at the very least I'd recommend waiting until you've wet your feet into the genre before diving into Hicksville.
