Stephen Holland runs Page 45, a comic shop in Nottingham, England, with Mark Simpson and Tom Rosin. He has a monthly column in Comics International, and appears perennially as a small Japanese Maple in West Bridgford.
Who is... Alan Donald?
In his dreams Alan Donald is a multi-award winning writer of comic books, animation, theme park shows and rides, children’s books, novels, television, internet animation and more.
In real life Alan writes this column, which has been described as more than a lifestyle than a weekly column. He used to write SBC's All The Rage.
It's about the power of journalism, the necessity for rebellion, and the humour to be gleaned from a well-turned bowel movement. - Stephen on Transmetropolitan
* A D V A N C E W A R N I N G * -
McSweeney's 13 The Comics Issue (£16-99, Penguin UK) edited by Chris Ware - I've found more information on this exciting project. It's going to have a dust jacket and cover designed by Chris Ware in the same style as the Jimmy Corrigan hardcover, and endpapers by Ivan Brunetti. There will be a bit of reprint material but it's all by top people and there's bound to be a handful of previously-printed work in there that you haven't seen. There's new work by Jeffrey Brown, Daniel Clowes, Chris Ware, Robert Crumb, Julie Doucet, Debbie Dreschler, Gary Panter, Archer Prewitt, Richard Sala and Art Spiegelman. And (AND) there will be new mini-comics by John Porcellino and Ron Regé jr. It looks like being almost four hundred pages of comics for seventeen quid. Apparently the McSweeney's books are not kept in print so once this book is gone, it's gone. I'm still trying to find out about availability and how reorders will turn out, but we're going to try and keep this one around for as long as we can. Should be with us early June. Do not miss this one.
On a related note, Chris Ware and Seth will be promoting the book on 9th June, 2-4pm at the Institut Francais in London as part of the ICA's COMICA festival. Later that day Craig Thompson and David B. will discuss their respective books, BLANKETS and EPILEPTIC.
* Q U I C K A P O L O G Y * -
If anyone is getting these mailshots more than once, I apologise profusely. Some addresses have bounced back as their server thinks us to be spam. Some have had the mailshots multiple times. I'm trying to sort this out and don't want to be seen to be filling your inbox up more than necessary. At the shop we're getting about 3,000 unwanted messages each day. Currently looking into Page 45 carrier pigeons.
n e w b o o k s
The Complete Peanuts vol 1: 1950 to 1952 hc (£19-50, Fantagraphics) by Charles Schultz - Here it is. The Peanuts strip that haunted my childhood (ongoing). Charlie Brown says to Patty 'The future frightens me!'. "I don't see why... you're young and full of life... you'll probably live for another sixty years!". Sitting down on the curb, he replies "That's what frightens me!" It puzzled me as a kid. Why were these kids, who must have been the same age as me, worried about living for so long? What could be so bad as to fear living forever (sixty years was forever)? It took me a few years to work it out. These are acidic little strips. Before it changed - and even in the three years that this sturdy book covers you can see it changing - and became safer and warmer, it was not a comforting strip to warm your heart with children speaking grand wisdom. Was it more childlike earlier on or less? I still can't decide but these wonderful strips, beautifully presented with Seth designing the book, are quite magical. Just so you know, this book has been at the top of the New York Times Non-Fiction Hardcovers chart. So, this is a documentary? I thought he made it all up.
Things Are Meaningless (£6-50, Microcosm) by Al Burian - "Spring lasted all of two days this year. The first day was perfect; clear sky and nothing to do, I wandered around town aimlessly and everyone I ran into had that curious smirk which made it seem like you could probably ask them on a date and they'd say hell, yes. Day two I cut my nice pants, the dress pants, what my friend Bill might call "job interview pants" (although the bright orange paint which a band in Providence threw on the audience while they were playing never did really come out in the wash, but then again, what was I doing in Providence, wearing my job interview pants to a rock show anyway), into shorts. A bold declaration of seasonal commitment on my part." I don't usually quote big chunks of text. I don't tend to dwell on the text like that, it's the images that do it for me but Burian's drifting zines, now reprinted in a book, have pages of text in-between the simple strips and I like some of his phrases. This is King Cat without the eastern centred-ness, Jeff Levine without the creeping dread of hopeless-ness. It's about shitty jobs, good bands and cheap coffee and it made me smile and a little nostalgic for an hour or two.
Mariko's Parade (£10-99 Fanfare/Ponent Mon) by Frédéric Boilet & Kan Takahama. French/Japanese collaboration given its English translation from the creators of YUKIKO'S SPINACH and KINDERBOOK, both met with the most lavish of praise here. Indeed this is the sequel of sorts to the former, in which the author and his new model, muse and lover, Mariko, travel to the beautiful and quiet island of Enoshima so that Frédéric can take photographs. Like its predecessor, this is another sensual and intimate book, but this one is shot even deeper with the poignancy of transience, for Mariko has decided to move on, and is just looking for the right moment to tell him. The whole piece centres around the Japanese concept of mono no aware ("A flower is never more beautiful than at the moment it begins to fade"), and one of its central motifs is the hydrangea, which during the final pages, boasts a rare burst of colour in the book, which the author observes having deepened. When he tells Mariko that in the west the flower stands for "constance", for "long-lasting love" ("My mind's made up! I'll draw you on the over wearing the yukata with the hydrangeas!") he doesn't understand her reaction, because she hasn't yet told him her plans. But as the old landlady reveals at the end "Hydrangeas change colour while they flower... in Japan we call them the fickle flower... irresolute". It's a tender work, almost entirely serene, but I do have two warnings to impart. The first is the explicit sex in the middle, in a brief burst of full colour. It's perfectly dreamy, but requires a top shelf. The second is that there's a slight flaw which marrs the whole when Takahama makes the mistake - quite frequently - of reverting to crass, anime grin over Boilet's equally brash "ha ha ha"s, and to be honest I'd have been more comfortable with Boilet illustrating the whole. Still, there remain very few equivalents to the more meandering French cinema in English language comics, so any addition is welcome.
The Filth (£12-99 DC Vertigo) by Grant Morrison & Chris Weston. All thirteen issues in one value-for-money volume of full-colour mentalism. This might be the story of cat-loving, porn-perusing, lonely old Greg Feely, living in a flat with criminal 70s furnishing. Or it could be that of Ned Slade, for whom Greg is just a parapersonality when he's not maintaining Status: Q as top operative in the extradimensional clean-up squad known as The Hand. Regardless, this is THE FILTH, a book bulging with sex, sensory overloads, warped worlds, infectious ideas, fourth walls, monomania, nazi dolphins, a full-mouthed Communist Chimp, an agent all but incomprehensible for those not reared in south-west Scotland, and some slightly bewildered policemen. There's a two-page review in a recent COMICS JOURNAL which I considered plagiarising to make myself look halfway intelligent. Unfortunately I didn't understand it. I can, however, promise you a far more focussed book than the INVISIBLES epic, and some astonishingly detailed, bulbous and sordid art from Mr. Chris Weston, who constantly impresses with his ability to bring Grant's mind-fucking concepts to life. He deserves an Eisner just for keeping up. I hereby pronounce this the finest work by Grant Morrison to date, and can't wait to read the whole thing in one go.
Frank: Manhog Edition (£9-99, Presspop) by Jim Woodring - Nothing new here but, while we wait for Fantagraphics to reprint the hardcover, it's good to see these stories reprinted. And, a bonus for those who were annoyed to see the ending of FRANK'S HIGH HORSE appearing only in the big book, you can read it here. And it's a lovely Japanese edition. Now, do I really need some of these stories a fourth time? Hmm... maybe.
Heaven LLC (£8-50, Image) by Wayne Chinsang & Dave Crosland - God, looking a little like Bill Clinton, has a little secret. Some days he like to go down to Earth and fool around with this girl he knows. Not that bright but, as you'd imagine God to be, very good in bed. One time he goes missing for a day or so and the board of directors in heaven (Mary, Joseph, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, you get the idea) are worried and, even though he's mostly a figurehead and incapable of a decent decision, have to go to earth to search him out. Satan finds the whole affair laughable but offers to help out anyway. Meanwhile, God's fancy piece dies and ends up in hell... A shockingly funny book in most every way. Crossland's art is fast paced to keep up with the twisty-turny script. His work reminds me of a more controlled Jim Mahfood with a touch of the comic genius of Evan Dorkin. We're all going to hell for stocking this book but, as we find out, it's not such a bad place to spend eternity.
When We Were Very Maakies hc (£12-99, Fantagraphics) by Tony Millionaire - "So how was prison, Joe?" "It was terrible! I was anally raped! The most disturbing aspect was that part of me liked it..." "Which part?" "The anus..." Yay! Prison rape jokes. Can't go wrong with prison rape jokes. I was going to like this book anyway, but now, all my Christmas present problems are sorted.
Akbar & Jeff's Guide To Life (£4-99 Harper Collins) by Matt Groening. Yeah, I can just see your mother enjoying that one, mate. On a more innocent note, this is another book of Groening's one-page strips, with Akbar and Jeff taking centre stage. The couple look identical. They also think identically, and dress identically in Charlie Brown t-shirts and tasselled fezzes. Fezzez? Is that the plural of fez? And their expressions never change. They live a simple, domestic life, mostly on the sofa. How much humour is there to be had? Well, this is the creator of the Simpsons, so quite a lot. Unfortunately it's something that can neither be quoted nor explained. See also LIFE IS HELL, LOVE IS HELL, SCHOOL IS HELL etc..
How Loathsome (£12-50 Comics Lit) by Tristan Crane and Ted Naifeh ~ "Saturday night was already proving a disaster. Nick had invited me at the last possible moment to a private S/M play party in the Berkley Hills. While I wasn't exactly in the mood to watch strangers have what passes for sex these days, I pulled on some tight PVC and went along anyway. On the way over, Nick's friend Kelley was sharing in gruesome detail how he had been born with a tail. Kelley also has three nipples, a fact he finds infinitely fascinating. "I wish the doctors hadn't removed it. Think about it I could have gotten it pierced or something."" Drugs, debauchery, death and androgyny. Naifeh has really been allowed to let rip here. The streets of San Francisco are filthy and dim-lit through his pen, and only serve as passage to the grotty bars and seedy, sweaty Goth clubs Tristan's characters frequent. The Goth dives are particularly well visualized, all bad dance and squeaks of P.V.C. against leather. It's the visual equivalent of the sound a brick wall makes being stabbed with a blunt knife. Grating. In contrast, the dreams and flashbacks which account for a sizable chunk of the book, are beautifully rendered in a rose tinted nostalgic way. Reminiscent of his work on Gloom Cookie. Or in the case of the (often) drug fuelled flashbacks rife with paranoia and disillusion, Naifehs' style is more Giger thru Ashley Wood. It's nice to see an artist I've liked for so long experiment. It's even better to see him pull it off.
Monkey & Spoon (£6-50, Adhouse) by Simone Lia - Another perfect book from Simone. After BOTH and FLUFFY we know what to expect but it's how effortlessly sweet, disturbing and domestic she makes it that surprises. Basically a toy monkey (how cute?) and a spoon are getting ready for the evening meal, but they're obviously not at their best. It must have been a hard day at the office. Little snipes and instances of pride spoil what should be an all out cute fest. A toy monkey! And a spoon! Living together! Planet of cute. But no. Oh, who am I kidding? Even when they're arguing it's like diving into a barrel of sleepy kittens. Cute.
Scooter Girl (£9-99 Oni Press) by Chynna Clugston-Major. Can't possibly provide you with a better review than the introduction written by Nabiel Kanan, the only creator we love enough to put in bold type in the middle of a listing. It's two pages long, so here's but a snippet: "Scooter Girl is a teenage dream On wheels. You know the dream, where you're the most popular person in school? Where all the guys want to be you and all the girls want to be with you? You're the jock. The BMOC. You're a real asshole. Well, Aston Archer is that guy. He's got it all. The looks, the girls, the grades, the do-I-see-a-flock-of-seagulls-overhead hairdo. Er... Anyway. He's got it made. He's even got some fancy British ancestry. We know this because instead of just telling us, Clugston-Major shows us in a brilliant [and, I might add, hilarious] historical sequence. One that will be reprised, to great effect, later in the novel. "It's never enough though, is it? When we first meet him, Ashton is King Midas. Everything he touches turns to gold. He is supremely confident and supremely satisfied. There is a danger in supreme confidence. Ask Napoleon, Ashton doesn't know it yet, but the snow is coming for him, too. Or at least, the Snow Queen is... "Margaret Sheldon is the new girl in town, and for the first time in his life, Ashton is tongue-tied. Like all truly beautiful girls, Margaret is infuriatingly calm. Ashton is a storm of slapstick around her. All he can see are her eyes, all he can think of are her lips, all he can taste is his foot. He thinks she's a goddess. She thinks he's a tit. She's right." I'd employ Nabiel to write the rest of my reviews, but it'd only slow down THE DROWNERS. #2 is in, by the way, #3 heading to the printers right now.
Transmetropolitan vol 10: One More Time (£9-99 DC Vertigo) by Warren Ellis & Darick Robertson. "Get me to a keyboard. I feel the power moving in me once more." Anyone on the receiving end of Warren Ellis' Bad Signal e-mails will understand: that is pure autobiography. And so we come to the final broadcast of this deliciously nasty little sci-fi socio-political satire. The sci-fi bit means it's set in the future to comment on the present, extrapolate from it, and serve up a plethora of designer drugs, technological developments and foul-mouthed tirades. Just like Bad Signal, really. (You really should sign up, it's dead simple but I've forgotten how you do it. Perhaps start with the general information here: http://www.flirble.org/mailman/listinfo/badsignal). It's packed with side-gags ("Ebola Cola -- refreshment that devours"), mutations, misfits and molotovs - both literal and ideological. It's about activism in the future, written by one of the finest activists currently around. It's about the power of journalism, the necessity for rebellion, and the humour to be gleaned from a well-turned bowel movement. It's all still in print and always in stock, of course, but before I forget, although this is the blistering climax to the story, it isn't the last trade paperback. There's another due around August, I think, containing the two one-shots originally released around the middle of the series, of Spider's own journalism, illustrated by a range of guest artists. However, back to our regular schedule, and Spider Jerusalem is dying. There is a debilitating disease eating away at his brain, leaving him with a bleeding nose, vicious headaches, and a narrow window in which to bring down the ruthless, power-crazed President of the United States. Fortunately he has a few aces up his hard drive, and some Filthy Assistants to help disseminate them. It's time to bite back.
Orbiter s/c (£11-99 DC Vertigo) by Warren Ellis & Colleen Doran. Ten years ago the space shuttle Venture disappeared from Earth's orbit, taking its seven astronauts with it, and killing off NASA's entire manned space flight programme. Now the shuttle's back, hurtling down in a blaze of fire, to crash land at the same spot it originally launched from: the Kennedy Space Centre. Three teams of specialists are swiftly assembled, to find out where Venture went, how it got there, and what happened to six of the seven astronauts. Because only one of them returned. Faced with conflicting evidence suggesting impossible answers - there's Martian sand inside the craft's wheel housing, but there's no way for a ship so structured to endure the rigours of landing in tact; the remaining, catatonic astronaut shows none of the biological degradation, such as muscle loss, which should have occurred had the man been in space for ten long years; oh, and the shuttle appears to be covered in a layer of skin - the two leading scientists and Dr. Anna Bracken, the psychiatrist, begin to allow for possibilities they had only dreamed of when man last aspired to the stars. Ellis is in his element here. His enthusiasm for science fiction, theory and hard science fact has positioned him in command of both the astrophysics and astronautics involved, and it streams out of the investigators with a credibility critical for a book like this. Couple that with a real zeal for space exploration, which lies at the heart of the story, and you see his empathy with the central characters (whose lights dimmed when the programme was curtailed) shining through the finale, giving it a power I wasn't anticipating. I particularly appreciated the little side-scenes, like Michelle on the phone to her departing husband, which other authors might not have made room for. And there's a neat little device which Doran has excelled in rendering, where the current events break every two dozen pages or so, to make way for a full-page shot of the Venture in flight. Colleen's art is far more solid than before, and if the inking is a little hard, jerky and angular on some pages, her textures are great, especially during those huge space scenes.
The Ultimates vol 2: Homeland Security (£11-99 Marvel) by Mark Millar & Bryan Hitch. When was the last time you saw an action film that was perfect? I mean, completely and utterly perfect: compelling performances, mesmerising special effects, jaw-dropping plotting, and the pithiest and wittiest of scripts. I've never seen one. Well, apart from Alien and (maybe) the very first Matrix. Even with the best, something is always slightly disappointing - a niggle here, a niggle there, an insult to your intelligence, or a ham actor in a vital role. All that money, all that talent, and they rarely hit the jackpot, often through underestimating their audience. Welcome to THE ULTIMATES: I cannot fault one single second of this on any front whatsoever. If you are amongst the record-breaking numbers to have already snatched up volume one, this knocks its teeth to the back of its throat, then pulls them out the other end. The Black Widow's and Hawkeye's impossibly spectacular double-act above the streets of New York (the world's sexiest duo?). The brutal reprisal meted out on Hank Pym for abusing his wife. The running gag about Quicksilver seemingly doing nothing ("Actually if you slow down the building's security tapes..." "Liar."). That tellingly treacherous little scene between the soldier and the boy once Stark has been persuaded to rejoin the fray. These and twenty-five other sequences vie with each other for "finest ever seen in a superhero comic to date". Did I say "superhero" comic? I wouldn't mind for once if this won the Eisner. As we rejoin the series, the band of the few created to take down the many or the unthinkable, have, by the skin of their teeth, just scraped through the latter, but at a staggering cost to the population of Manhattan, the dignity of Dr. Banner, and the self-esteem of their resident goliath and biogenetic fraudster, Hank Pym. Banner, whose sex-crazed rampage as the insatiable Hulk caused such loss of life, now lies sedated and captive at the heart of the Triskelion, The Ultimates' multi-billion dollar military complex. Pym, having beaten and poisoned his wife to within an inch of her diminutive life, is about to find out what it feels like to be on the receiving end from a very, very angry soldier. And evidence has now been uncovered of an invasion force of shape-shifting aliens, which has been regrouping since the Second World War, and about to begin their final strike. Time to go pre-emptive with the biggest airborne fleet of almighty carriers and jets you cannot begin to imagine until you've seen Hitch's panoramas. Won't do them any good I'm afraid: they've been outmanoeuvred. In a finale which makes the first book's look like an 18th century picnic in a 16th century park, Plan A is a catastrophe, Plan D proves useless and Plan E runs right out of time. I guess that leaves Plan H, then. Sometimes the only way to win a fight is to eat your enemy.
Grendel: The Devil Inside (£8-50, Dark Horse) by Matt Wagner & Bernie Mireault - One of my favourite Grendel stories and a good introduction to the series. Brian Li Sung turned up in the previous book (Devil's Legacy) as the lover of Christine Spar, the last person to take on the role of the spirit of vengeance. It's her death that pushes him to fashion his own costume and be consumed by hatred and violence.
Batman/Superman/Wonder Woman: Trinity h/c (£16-99 DC) by Matt Wagner. Only time to read on Batman/Superman this month, and that's below.
Gotham Central: In The Line Of Duty (£6-50 DC) by Ed Brubaker, Greg Rucka & Michael Lark. Batman is always billed as the world's greatest detective. So far I've yet to read a satisfying good mystery there that readers can take an active part is solving. GOTHAM CENTRAL however, delivers. It delivers on every front in fact. A cracking crime involving a murdered babysitter, a secret identity, and a dead cop. Superb characterisation within the police precinct, underplayed dialogue, deft timing, and a convincingly uneasy relationship with Gotham's most famous denizen. As I wrote in review of #1: "It's [partially] about how ordinary cops might cope with living in a city which is infested enough with maladjusted metadudes to keep Batman in three titles a month. How are they supposed to react when their paths cross and all they have is a pistol, how does it feel to know that a vigilante often ends up having to do your job for you, that you cannot look after your own, and have to go lighting that Bat Signal every five minutes in what amounts to an admission of inadequacy? It doesn't feel great." However, the presence of either heroes or villains of the super variety is kept firmly as background - they're never the heart of the case. Artists like Lark are far more useful for less glamorous urban crime, and that's what this is. I can't believe how many copies of this we've sold already - far more than of each regular issue itself - and I'm very, very grateful because it makes a book of the second story arc looks increasingly likely, and blow me if it isn't even sharper than this one.
Superman/Batman: Public Enemies h/c (£12-99 DC) by Jeph Loeb & Ed McGuinness. "The book always reads the same: Bruce and I love the sounds of our own voices." "The review always reads the same: invasive monologues intruding on the action." "We provide fascinating insights through how we perceive the events around us, and how we perceive each others' perceptions." "We've known each other so long, we share a special rapport." "I find it difficult not talk about my planet blowing up." "Mother's lost her pearls again." "Did you know we met when we were kids?" "I wish DC would make up their minds." "I have so many friends and enemies. Isn't it lucrative when they all visit at once?" "Excuse me a second, I need to explain to readers who the 175th person in the third panel is." "Good thing I can withstand being punched into a tower block." "Good thing he can withstand being punched into a tower block." "Bugger, it's kryptonite." "Good grief, not again." A meteor from Krypton is heading towards Earth. President Lex Luthor blames Superman. Everyone fights. There are warnings from the future, big suits of armour, and wait till you see the hokey rocket ship. Plus Batman attempts keyhole heart surgery in a graveyard with the aid of some tweezers. Here's a choice quote for you: "Evil is a poor professor." And if you think the pastiche above is exaggerated, this is how the main event opens: "The dream always begins the same. My parents... Jor-El and Lara put me in the rocket as the planet Krypton breaks apart." "The nightmare always begins the same. My parents... Thomas and Martha Wayne take my hands as we leave the theatre." "I can only imagine how difficult it was for them sending their only son into outer space... as their world died around them." "I can only imagine the fear that gripped them when the gunman stepped out of the shadows... never knowing that these were their last moments alive." It never stops. Loeb's still doing it in the current storyline.
New X-Men vol 7 (£7-50 Marvel) by Grant Morrison & Marc Silvestri. The final word from Grant, the epitaph if you will, on his inspired run on a previously brain-dead title. Ashes to ashes, of course, and I can confidently report that in the hands of its editors X-MEN is once more completely bereft of mental activity, so you can stop after this one, if you fancy. Previously: the human race is dying out, replaced by mutants which themselves are evolving further; Cassandra Nova, Xavier's twin, sends mutant-killing Sentinels to commit genocide in Genosha, wiping out Magneto in an instant; the school acquires a new teacher in iron-masked Xorn; Jean Grey begins manifesting the power of the Phoenix once more; Cyclops succumbs to the sexual charms of the Emma Frost; Wolverine learns more about the Weapon X programme; Xavier comes out as a mutant - he is - the Beast comes out as gay - he isn't; a new power-enhancing, lethally addictive drug surfaces; there's a riot; a girl dies; and Xorn takes off his helmet. I don't think anyone could accuse Grant of being dull. Everyone has developed, and he's created so much Marvel should have been grateful to run with, but instead dropped the baton. In volume six the final catastrophe, the death of Jean Grey causes her husband, Scott Summers (Cyclops), to lose heart. He abandons the school. And through that single action, not Jean's death itself, is set in motion a terrible chain of events which lead to the worst of futures. Morrison binds much that he has created into what at first appears a confusing few issues. It's super-charged with long words - loud protestations and high pronouncements - and slashed onto the page through the busiest of hyper-active art. It will need re-reading, it's so well disguised. But that's good. And when you finally begin to understand just what has happened (the sketch and script pages at the back do help!), it makes perfect sense and provides a very satisfying wrap, amputating itself from whatever diseased hackwork follows. Majestic, creative and bursting with energy. It is, in fact, Sublime.
Ultimate Spider-Man vol 8: Cats & Kings (£11-99 Marvel) by Brian Michael Bendis & Mark Bagley. Some good questions, as Peter learns how the most straight forward rights and wrongs are fudged and evaded, the further you reach the "top": "We've got ten minutes left to the class, so does anyone want to to discuss current events? Anyone see anything that --?" "Can we talk about this Wilson Fisk being allowed to walk around like he didn't kill someone?" "What's on your mind, Mr. Parker?" "Yeah, uh, how is he allowed to walk around like he didn't kill someone?" "Well, the court said he didn't." "No. The court threw out the videotape of him murdering someone as evidence -- didn't say he didn't do it." "Well, our legal system..." "Sucks." "No, we have a system of checks and balances." "And it sucks." "Mr. Parker..." "I'm asking you. You. Do you think that this is right? Do you think it's fair that he should be allowed out into the real world like this?" "Do I think it's fair? Hmmm, well... I think that our judicial system has its flaws, but it does serve us well and you have to look at the bigger picture." "And what is that?" "What?" "The bigger picture? A murderer is out free. What's the bigger picture?" "I guess, well... He does a lot of good for the city as well. Okay, anybody have any questions about the homework or --" "Oh, that is such a load of crap! I am so sick of all this -- this compromise. Everyone is soooo willing to bend over and look the other way." "Mr. Parker." "When does this happen exactly? During college? After college? When you turn thirty? When do you just give up? To the point where you can actually look me in the eye and say, "Sure he murders, but he's got good qualities, too.'" Can you honestly tell me you'll read anything like that from Jeph Loeb or Geoff Johns, or any of those other "fan-favourites"? Okay, you want some laughs. Later on, Peter's in costume behind a newspaper (headline: "Kingpin Cronies Blow Lid") and Wilson Fisk - the Kingpin - is sitting in a restaurant eating dinner. Well, breakfast, lunch and dinner, by the looks of it. "You know what my favourite part of the paper is? Well, today it's the headline, but I like the gossip column. It always tells you where all the famous fat people like to eat. And here you are, like everyday, eating for two." "Young man, you have a lot of growing up to do." "Right back at ya, Rerun." "What can I do for you?" "Well, you really got my head spinning. Look at you, sitting here, not a care in the world. The entire world knows you're a murderer and a liar and a thief. (Even though murderer should be plenty.) And you can just walk about the city and everyone make nice nice. Everyone kisses your tuchas. (Which, I grant you, is an act that could take the better part of a week.) I guess I'm trying to understand how the world allows you to be. Because I really don't understand it. I really don't." "And you're trying to do all that in your pyjamas. Very noble." "Listen, I don't expect to figure it out today, but I know one day I will. I have to. I just -- I wanted to look you in the face. I wanted to look at you." "Well, young man, I'll tell you what you see... You see the face of the man that one day will find out who you really are. And where you go to school. Because someone out there knows. And I will find out who they are and who you are... And when I do... I will personally come over to your house... and I will teach you exactly what I am." "Are you hitting on me?"
Diorama, A Love Story (£8-50 Image) by Mark Ricketts & Dario Brizuela. Charlotte Ramage used to be a cop. She used to have a partner. But psychopathic artist Winfield Ricketts saw to him. Now he's on the loose again, leaving elaborately displayed corpses of his victims, trussed up like a giant Gulliver or hung in webs from the ceiling. Sometimes there's a whole mise en scène going on. But there are a lot of other crimes being committed, Charlotte's bag goes missing, and if you suddenly can't quite follow the narrative, there's either a very good reason (because there are some seriously nasty twists ahead that will have you wide-eyed and turning back the pages) or... it doesn't quite work. As for the last scene, well again, that either explains a great deal or makes your brain hurt. The black, white and grey-tone art's slightly Mike (THREE DAYS IN EUROPE) Hawthorne, with its animation simplicity. Bendis has been touting Ricketts for some time now, but I still can't decide if I see what he means.
Planet Of The Capes (£8-50 AIT/Planet Lar) by Larry Young and Brandon McKinney. "Nobody learns anything. Everybody dies." Much lauded but in reality weak superhero spoof, supposedly bearing a searing sub-text on the state of the industry, with a couple of genuinely funny ideas which could have just as easily been condensed into a couple of short sentences and plonked on the back cover. Which indeed they were (see opening quote). The art is monstrously ugly, and Larry needs an editor rather than a lot of well-intentioned friends. Actually, hold on although the "message" - aimed at the superhero corporations -only appears once you've been told its there, it's quite a good shot, even if it's aimed in the wrong direction. Neither Marvel nor DC are killing this industry, its retailers are. They don't have to stock superhero comics to the exclusion of everything else, yet they do. Unless I've read it wrong and it is aimed at the retailers. The problem once more is that you cannot tell unless you're told.
The Walking Dead vol 1: Days Gone By (£6-50, Image) by Robert Kirkham & Tony Moore - Little originality here but it's a damn fine zombie book and worth a read. Having only read the later issues and enjoyed the better scripted version of Romero's zombie ideas I was shocked to see that the opening scene is a direct steal from the coma-victim-awakes scene from 28 DAYS LATER. Still, it's got good reanimated flesh, solid, John Romita jr type artwork and good dialogue and the odd goose-bump along the way.
Darkham Vale vol 1 (£12-99 APC) by Jack Lawrence. Not quite as good as Chris Ware, no. ;) Okay, seriously, what is this? It's a perfectly sweet all-ages book about a boy and his Dad who try to set up a new life in an old English Village called Darkham Vale. From the start, though, Ryan notices that things aren't quite right: there's an elusive girl who keeps following him, ravens everywhere, and out of the corner of his eye he could swear he saw an old man change form. Meanwhile spiders, werewolves, vampires and huge, horny spiked things are a-moodin' and a-broodin' underneath the town centre. For Ryan has a destiny, you see, and Darkham has a history. In fact it used to called something else altogether. The element that stands out is the father-son relationship, all very positive in an age of single parenthood, and I would certainly recommend this to kids who want colour. It's not up there with BONE by a long-shot, but does have youth appeal and it is in colour. Everything else is either preposterous or derivative, usually both. It takes a lot more imagination to believe there's so much activity going on under a countryside village than it does, say, in the remoter cliffs of Cornwall, the Scottish Highlands, or some entirely fantastical land like Tolkein's. Lawrence's monsters are suitably big and craggy, and his Ryan is all big-eyed anime innocence; unfortunately but he cannot draw women: the pink-haired harlot with a constant strop on (watch those vowels, Stephen) is horribly lumpy, her breasts made out of half-risen dough. Verdict? Good, clear layouts, and I confess that this certainly exceeded my expectations, but anyone over sixteen who considers this amongst their top one hundred books for any year simply isn't reading widely enough.
The Horus Heresy vol 1: Visions Of War (£15-00 Black Library) by Alan Merret. I don't begin to understand what this is (something to do with Games Workshop and a collectable card game), but it's meatily illustrated with finished paintings and sketches, and written by one of our very fine customers.
Jim Lee Millenium Edition h/c (£19-99 Wizard). Big book of revelations, the first being from Jeph Loeb, who proudly confesses that it was his fault that Jim drew BATMAN: HUSH in such a conservative fashion, when Jim was all for doing it in a fresh, European style: "I didn't want an experimental Jim. I wanted the one and only Jim. I wanted Jim to bring me his best game." Idiot. Jim is at his best when he's being experimental. Amongst the many and varied sections is an issue-by-issue breakdown of HUSH - and here again, things I didn't know. For example, did you realise that the more distant Bruce Wayne's memories are in the book, the more monochrome they're rendered? There's plenty more where that came from. Also on offer, the first fifteen pages to an aborted Punisher/Nick Fury mini-series; a day in the life; a retrospect of Jim's career; the history of Wildstorm, a look at the studio; all the talent that either works there now, or has passed through to go on to achieve renown of their own (J. Scott Campbell, Lee Bermejo...); a gallery of all Jim's posters and covers (quite the development from bog-standard ALPHA FLIGHT horrors, through PUNISHER WAR JOURNAL to finally hitting his potential half-way through UNCANNY X-MEN); an encouraging look at his juvenile drawings; and lots of previously unpublished preliminary designs and sketches along with some fully realised artwork (check out 'Batman over San Prospero, Italy' on page 85 - black ink washes on sandy, rough-grained paper, highlighted with white) which are awesome to behold. Now, you may be thinking: "Hold on, you came down pretty hard on Jim during HUSH, and although you liked what you saw on the current Superman storyline, isn't this a little too enthusiastic for a Wizard-produced artbook?" Maybe. The thing is, it's not just an artbook, it's like some extended interview for The Face. Well, maybe not The Face - maybe Smash Hits - I don't think we need to know what Jim had for lunch on Wednesday. But I defy anyone not to start liking Jim - and liking him a lot - from the first few pages onwards. He's worked hard, he's been generous with his time, praise and support, and I know there's a tendency to turn these things into P.R. but you can't help but be moved by so many loving testimonials, none of which sound remotely forced. Plus I just remembered that when Image first went exclusive with Diamond Distributors, thereby cutting off our easy supply of ASTRO CITY reorders from Coldcut Distribution (ASTRO CITY was in those days an exceptional superhero series, one of the very few we actually promoted), I talked with Kurt Busiek and persuaded him that it would damage his sales and wasn't very kind to Coldcut. And Kurt talked to Jim and Jim came out and changed Wildstorm policy. I'd completely forgotten that, so now I won't hear a bad word said about the man.
Blood (£19-99, Porterhouse) by Mark Ryden - Like Animus Mundi, this will not be reprinted. At 20,000 copies it will probably stay around at little longer but I'm not taking any chances. Tiny edition (2½" x 3½") with a faux-leather cover, all individually numbered, contains paintings from the Blood Show, all miniatures of girls who look like Christina Ricci, plush toys and severed Lincoln heads.
The Mirror Of Love h/c (£16-99 Top Shelf) by Alan Moore & José Villarrubia. Complete overhaul for this powerful piece of poetry ("You don't like poetry!") - oh yeah, well, this Alan Moore we're talking about - which originally opened the empowering anthology AARGH! (Artists Against Rampant Government Homophobia) which Moore coordinated in opposition to Thatcher's Clause 28. The original illustrations didn't do it justice (for me, anyway), but here they've been replaced by sumptuous photographs by the bloke what took Alan's portrait for the front of most of his recent books. It only arrived yesterday, so I've had but the briefest chance to flick through, but I can tell you that any Dave McKean fan fall for it immediately - and Bruce Webber fans won't feel overlooked either! As the dust jacket handily reminds me, the poem is "a passionate love letter that beautifully recounts the history of same-sex love." This new edition includes an index of the historical figures referred to, a selected bibliography, and classic love poems by Sappho, Michelangelo, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman and Wilfred Owen. I'm still having one, in spite of that. ;)
e a s t e r n y o u t h
Gyo vol 2 (£9-99, Viz) by Junji Ito - The walking fish of Okinawa have moved out of the city and are all over Japan and possibly the rest of the world. The parasite clenched to the underside of the fish, powered by the noxious gas that boils in their stomachs, wants new converts, it want human beings. This is the situation that Tadashi finds when he wakes up at the hospital. His beloved Kaori is dead but her bloated body still runs a strange, biomechanical machine. Somewhere out there, he hopes, is the answer to this terrible blight on the land. So he searches. While not as beautifully constructed as UZUMAKI, this is still an excellent fix for gorehounds and lovers of twisted horror tales. The parasitic machines with their spines and insectoid legs clatter along in a quite disturbing manner and the gas-ridden near-corpses that fuel it look sickly to the touch. The ending came rather abruptly but Viz have rounded the collection off with two short stories that reminded me why I was first attracted to Ito's nasty little works (and why I've watched so many bad films based on his manga). THE ENIGMA OF AMIGARA FAULT disturbed both Tom and myself. After an earthquake, a new side of Amigara mountain revealed itself. Lots of human shaped holes on the side of the mountain, each distinct from the next. Some have been drawn to the place after seeing a news report, believing that the shapes are meant for them. Then one boy enters one of the shapes and is never seen again. If you're a tad claustrophobic, stay away from this story.
Two new titles from team CLAMP here, brought to us by fledgling company Del Ray. Both of which sell themselves much better than I can because they're almost sold out and we've only had them a week. Needless to say they are both fantastic and if you liked Chobits you'll love these. I tried to get more info on Del Ray but their website was (typically) down, but in case you want a go here it is - www.delraymanga.com Here's a brief plot summary:
xxxHOLiC vol.1 (£7-50 Del Ray) by Clamp ~ Yoko is witch, reclining upon her chaise longue all hours, granting wishes in exchange for "fair and equal payment", usually material possessions which her "shop" is stacked to ceiling with. Watanuki is a troubled young man; spirits haunt him wherever he goes, attracted to the power in his blood. He strikes a deal with her: she will lift his curse and in payment he will cook, clean, baby-sit and generally do her every bidding. The catch is Yoko will only release him from his burden when his payment is paid in full, and it looks as though he could be under her thumb for a very long time.
Tsubasa vol.1 (£7-50 Del Ray) Parallel-dimension-hopping fantasy, where existing CLAMP creations old and new are often completely re-imagined, as Saran crosses worlds with his unenthusiastic companions, Fai and Kurogane, trying to peace together (Card Captor) Sakura's soul before it's too late.
Negima! vol.1 (£7-50 Del Ray) by Ken Akamatsu ~ More slapstick silliness from the creator of Love Hina, in which ten-year-old Negi Springfield (who is apparently Welsh!?) is sent to a Japanese all-girl boarding school. To be an English teacher... as part of his training... to become a wizard... Oh and he tends to get a bit nervous around the boisterous young ladies in his class which makes him sneeze...a magic sneeze...which blows their clothes off. If he wasn't an innocent-as-pie ten-year-old this all might sound slightly dodgy. [And that sounds better? - ed.] Warning! Contains lengthy communal bath scenes.
also shipped:
Star Wars: Empire vol 2 (£13-99 Titan) by various. Essential Tomb Of Dracula vol 1 (£10-99 Marvel) by nefarious. The Amazing Adventures Of The Escapist (£11-99 Dark Horse) by gregarious. Mutts: Sunday Afternoons (£8-50 Andrew McMeel) by Patrick McDonnell. Gloom Cookie vol 3: Broken Curses (£9-99 SLG) by Serena Valentino & Breehn Burns Green Lantern/Green Arrow vol 1 (£8-50 DC) by Dennis O'Neil & Neal Adams JSA All-Stars (£9-99 DC) by many. Empire (£9-99 DC) by Mark Waid & Barry Kitson Essential X-Men vol 5 (£10-99 Marvel) by Chris Claremont & John Romita Jr, Michael Golden Sr. and Lord Windsor-Smythe.
n e w c o m i c s
(I know god smiles on these good times) (£1-99, I Don't Get It Graphics) by Paul Hornschemeier - A SEQUENTIAL interlude. Okay, I passed Sequential over and only read Hornschemeier when he came out with FORLORN FUNNIES but now I might have to go back and reconsider. He's possibly bored with the Chris Ware comparisons (or maybe just bored with the Chris Ware comparisons from me) but here's another one. It's two stories, one text, one graphics running on the same page, text at the top, graphics at the bottom. At the top you get a memory of a first love, or a fourth kiss, an early opportunity missed - sweet but a couple of lines don't ring true. Down below there's the lonely man of the future going home to his greenhouse. Here's the Ware-ism. Think of some of the strips in QUIMBY THE MOUSE where each reading gives you a different yes/no response. Do the pictures go with the words? How are they working together? How are they split? Also I'm reminded of Woodring's 'Screechy Peachy' strip. Ooh, might go and read that next.
All Flee! (£2-95) by Gavin Burrows & Simon Gane. I chuckled till I choked. No, really, I did. If the Charles Atlas sand-kicked-in-the-face parody wasn't funny enough ("Let me prove I can make you a monster... No weights, pulleys or exertion of any kind! Merely pull back the lead-lined seal from the isotopes we'll send you once a month, bathe in that warming green glow and let the wonders of unholy science do the rest." You can choose your desired mutation from, amongst others: "Mouth crammed with razor teeth," "General aura of evil & putrefaction," or "Diminished sense of right & wrong."), there are two monster tales and a welcome reprint of "Cruisin' With The Dorks" from ARNIE COMIX. The eponymous tale sees grumpy old Godzilla-like teacher, disillusioned with modern monsterdom, fall in love with the shapely new Godzilla-like lovely, who converts him to new-fangled fright practices ("It's GAAA before UUURGH! except after VORGHHH! And don't slouch so!"), before taking him on a romantic holiday ("You really haven't done France till you've trampled the Louvre and the Pompidou." "Zut alors!" "Aaa!" "Non!" "Merde!"). I could quote for hours ("Biplanes keep falling on my head..."), but then you wouldn't need to buy the comic, except for the beautifully crinkled art (favourite piece: the two dinosaurs reclining in the river Seine for a champagne picnic). The final strip is the reprint, a tale of a band manned by identical dullards, fuelling a nation-sweeping dork-mania ("It was during a truly MIFFED version of 'Don't Put That Cup Down There, You'll Stain The Formica' that it happened!" "We preferred the tem 'New Drearyist'."), and boasts a cracking panel taking a well-deserved side-swipe at the old-style comic shop. Well done, lads. Mark loved the ink bleed on the cover, by the way.
Dang! (£2-60, Top Shelf) by Martin Cendreda - Been looking forward to this for a while. For some reason I dropped the ball and neglected to get any of the self-published issues of Dang! but I'll rectify this in the future. Just because I'm going to throw a few names at you in the next sentence doesn't mean that this is any less special or individual than any other wonderful book, the names are just pointers. Okay, there's a little of Chester Brown in the fragility of the figures and also the use of panels placed onto black pages. And, if I think about it, a bit of the mid-period Yummy Fur to the stories. If Adrian Tomine loosened up a little and added a little more space to his composition and had himself murdered by one of his characters on the front page, then you've got a certain reference point. Let's throw early Dan Clowes in there too. Elements to a story - a character feeling left out from today's hip culture, tries to buy his way into it; homeless kids (twins) benefit from his misfortunes; art directors (from some style mag, you know the sort) take the kids' idea and use it for their own gain. Three stories woven together. And it's fun! And you get a jibe at kids wearing over-sized trucker caps as well. I'm happy.
Neil Jam (various prices, Neil Jam) by Neil Fitzpatrick - Sometimes I like it when you can see the rules in a book, when there are events that must happen almost as constraints for the artist to work in. A simple set-up like a cat in love with a mouse, just waiting for that brick to bounce on the bonce. Marc Bell dreams up new rules for each strip and keeps to them religiously. Fitzpatrick, while keeping to simpler regulations and penlines, is similarly exciting. You've got the protagonist/hero, Willis, possibly in love, possibly trying to escape from Ona. There's the bunny and the rabbit and the certainty that one of them will be kicked sometime in the comic. The faces are almost always shown in quarter-view (reminds me of Dalek and his Space Monkeys, how they always have to face left). There's something about the repetition that's comforting somehow. There's loads of strips to flick through on his site so have a browse. At the moment we've got NEIL JAM INVASION (£5-99), NEIL JAM EXTRA (£2-50), NEIL JAM EXTRA (£5-99) and a handful of minis.
Seaguy #1 of 3 (£2-20 DC Vertigo) by Grant Morrison & Cameron Stewart. "Did we just break da rules?" Grant's often at his most entertaining when he's at his briefest and most bizarre. This is both. In a world heavily sanitised and sedated by big brand entertainment, there are no longer any adventures to be had, so Seaguy (a bloke who lives in a wetsuit) and his floating buddy Chubby Da Choona grow restless. Fortunately the moon's throwing rocks at them - rocks bearing Egyptian hieroglyphics - and there's something sinister going on under Mickey Eye Park. Grant's main target is complacent consumerism, particularly when it comes to our bellies. The opening page takes place outside a fast food outlet called the "Bucket O' Beaks", Morrison picking deftly picking the language most likely to put anyone off for life. Inside Grubstop convenience store XOO appear to have the monopoly. "Seems like everything these days is made out of this stuff. So what's this new XOO like?" "I don't know. It's XOO... it's new! It says so everwhere." "That's good enough for me. I'll have as much as we can eat." When Seaguy and Chubby visit Mickey Eye Park, Seaguy's appetite is still going strong. "We'd like one bag of lion and lime and one pickled orchid." "No pickled orchid. We only have the smoky monkey, duck and nut, or bowler hat flavours today." "Hmm. What kind of flavour is bowler hat?" "Harsh and ashamed..." And then he falls foul of a unique form of indigestion.
Last Train to Deadsville #1 (£2-25 Dark Horse) by Steve Niles and Kelley Jones. Another in the Cal McDonald series this time with a mummy and the much-missed art of Kelley Jones (the BATMAN/DRACULA trilogy). This stuff works because it's so effortlessly funny, in a throwaway way, and Cal is basically Warren Ellis in curmudgeon mode, surrounded by monsters.
Remains #1 (£2-99 IDW) by Steve Niles & Kieron Dwyer. This is the stuff Kieron should be doing. Either that or his filthy and satirical comics. His affinity for superheroes (AVENGERS) is non-existent. By 2005 America has finally got rid of the arrogant, self-serving, manipulative, disingenuous, hypocritical, drink-driving, election-rigging, minority-oppressing, human-rights-eliminating, fund-slashing, environment-obliterating, oil-obsessed, imperialist little shit of a President, and found a peacemaker instead, who engages with the outside world, convincing several countries to unilaterally disarm. Some, including the US, make a big show of the disarmament day, and so it is that on June 3rd 2005 vast numbers of people flock to a facility in Nevada which, through a radical process, is about to take care of their entire arsenal of warheads in one job lot. Amongst them, nose-picking Spaulding has been dragged there by his equally hideous mother, and the second you see him, you just know it's all going to go nuclear tits-up. So what is this? Black comedy? No, not really. There are no jokes at all. Just zombies. Don't we have enough zombies now?
Aleister Arcane #1 (£2-99 IDW) by Steve Niles & Breehn Burns. Nope, sorry, I've read my quota of Niles this month. Next month maybe.
Human Target #10 (£2-20 DC Vertigo) by Peter Milligan & Cliff Chiang. I have absolutely no idea how Peter Milligan does it. Every month there is twist upon twist, layer under layer under latex. Every month the cleverest plotting, the most satisfying surprises, using the sharpest of deceptions. He plays us all the way, and once again I've been suckered. This self-contained issue is a sly and subtle short, for when Jim Grace escapes from prison, Christopher agrees to buy him five days of freedom by keeping the cops chasing the wrong man while Jim gets some conjugal. And some extra-marital. Then some more. Because Christopher's skill is to look like someone else, sound like someone else, move like someone else. Plus, he's pretty nifty with a gun. But why all this for just five days of freedom, when he knows he's going back? Well, I too have deceived you. Heheheheh.
The Spectacular Spider-Man #14 (£1-70 Marvel) by Paul Jenkins & Palo Rivera. Painted, self-contained story told from the perspective of an engaging young man with cerebral palsy, who likes to sit on top of the tenement roof and look out over the city. Excellent.
JLA: Another Nail #1 (£4-50 DC) by Alan Davis. Dear Alan Davis. A lovely man, full of enthusiasm, and quite the accomplished artist. I think DC must have gone, "Dear Alan Davis. He's a lovely man, and so full of enthusiasm. How can we possibly say no?" So a few months later, here's the sequel to JLA: THE NAIL, an Elseworlds mini-series, in which things are a little different to standard DC continuity, so that writers can get away with killing characters (which they do). The full first half of this 48-pager is prologue, about a huge intergalactic war involving Darkseid, the New Gods and the Green Lantern corps. Massive destruction everywhere. Huge. Happened while the JLA wasn't looking, so Green Lantern is telling them now. After that it's a cast of thousands, lots of stuff happening, and it's all terribly exciting if you have the faintest fucking clue who everyone is. I'm not kidding about Alan's enthusiasm, though. It's infectious.
Firestorm #1 (£1-80 DC) by Dan Jolley & ChrisCross. The final page is the sort of superhero cum-shot which does nothing for me, but before it reached its inevitable conclusion a few moulds were being broken. Firstly the guy who will become the next Firestorm (no idea what happened to the last one, my zombie pedigree is Marvel) turns out to be a young man called Jason, working his way to college as a waiter. He needs to earn enough to pay his first term's tuition fees, and time is running out. He also needs to pay his rent, because his dad's an amputee relying on disability checks, and that's quite the fine house they're living in. (I don't know where the mother is, if she still is.) Unfortunately the boy can't earn if he can't wait, and he can't wait in a family restaurant if his Dad smacks him about so hard that his face looks like a bruised tomato. So, he needs a loan, and that sort of loan generally comes with a price. I've gone on record stating that I don't believe in tokensim (Jason happens to be black) because the results are inevitably patronising, but there's nothing tokenist about this - and it reads very movingly. Jason is a lovely lad, quiet and dedicated, yet caught in a very real and, to some, all too familiar economic trap - to say nothing of his home life. And Jolley and Cross make you feel for the Dad as well, which is an achievement. The pacing has space at just the right moments (several panels of silence as Jason comes to a reluctant decision outside a bar), and it really does make the difference. I don't think the inker's right for Cross, the lines and forms are too thin, but since I wasn't originally prepared to read beyond the first three pages, the fact that I'm going to be picking up issue two for a quick scan does speak volumes.
District X #1 (£2-25 Marvel) by David Hine & David Yardin. Very happy to stick my hand up when I'm wrong. District X looked like a stupid idea, but then it was only a week later that I realised it was the David Hine; the same one who self-published that sweaty little horror story STRANGE EMBRACE and signed with us during the same Page 45 INDEPENDENTS DAY Dave Sim and Gerhard attended. It just seemed so improbable, but lucky Marvel, I say. So what is the idea? Succinctly: crime patrol in a New York suburb, whose predominant population makes it the mutant equivalent of China Town. The first issue is told in flashback after a policeman wakes up with a foggy memory after being shot in the head. His partner on the beat tells him what happened. Ah, but wait till the visuals and the dialogue stop matching up... Very clever. Along the way David peppers the piece with imaginative ideas - like the man who needs pruning whenever he falls asleep, and, unable to control himself, takes root. All this is made possible by Morrison's recent concept of the human race being increasingly replaced through evolution, for suddenly there are an awful lot of mutants on the planet, who, strangely enough, don't feel compelled to dress up and fight. The art's quite attractive too.
New X-Men #1 (£2-25 Marvel) by DeFilippis, Weir & Randy Green. Equally improbable is the notion that the same writers who came up with the something as vital as THREE STRIKES aren't mortally ashamed of being credited with this. Formerly known as NEW MUTANTS, then NEW X-MEN: ACADEMY X, Marvel settled on NEW X-MEN as the one most likely to confuse readers into buying it by mistake. And it would be a mistake. I could be wrong, but I suspect this is a product of comics-by-committee, with substantial editorial involvement, which - if rumours are to be believed - at least partially (if not wholly) accounts for Chuck Austen's mind-buggeringly awful runs on THE AVENGERS, UNCANNY X-MEN and now (no longer NEW) X-MEN. The editors have forced on him almost every awkward plot point, between which he must somehow connect the dots and steer a course which makes some vague sort of sense (he fails), whereas writers like Morrison, Bendis and Millar have been left to their own devices. Poor Chuck. Poor readers. Anyway, back to the plot. New mutants with powers so stupid they can't be trusted to live lives without the strictest supervision, are taken on a tour of the mansion. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, they activate a training session in the Danger Room so that they can show readers their powers. Indeed this may well appeal to anyone with the mentality of a squirrel.
Excalibur #1 (£2-25 Marvel) by Chris Claremont & Aaron Lopresti. "Oh! That so totally -- hurts!" Yes, it does. It's painful. Which young mutant do you suppose came out with that line? Which of the sprightly young scamps uses language so, like, totally "now"? It's trendy Professor X, of course! (Who, incidentally, now refers to himself as "Charley".) I'm not sure, but in order to enjoy a work of fiction, aren't you supposed to become slightly involved? At no point was my belief suspended - more like hung, drawn and quartered. Xavier returns to Genosha, the island nation of mutants wiped off the map by a big bunch of Sentinels during Grant Morrison's first story arc. And when I say "wiped off the map", I mean reduced to so much rubble that its chief export these days is brick dust. There isn't a building left standing, an amenity intact, or a single blade of grass poking through the concrete. How is it then, that there are young men and women either clean-shaven or with immaculate make-up, wandering around the debris in neatly-pressed clothes, who don't all smell of camel? Why are they even there? The only structure which doesn't let the rain in is the towering statue of Magneto, and there are of course four supervillains waiting inside its head (someone's always waiting inside its head), ready to give Charles a kicking, when they should have saved it for Claremont. A spiteful part of me wants to spoil the punchline for you, but the only punch is to the guts of Marvel's crippled credibility and the tattered remains of X-fans' long-suffering credulity. You'll believe me when you see it.
Astonishing X-Men #1 (£2-25 Marvel) by Joss Whedon & John Cassaday. Kitty Pryde returns to the X-Mansion. As soon she materialises through the walls she sees ghosts of how it used to be - herself kissing Colossus on the stairs. I like that - it's what happens. You return somewhere after a long absence and you do instinctively reach out to connect to it through your former experiences there. I also enjoyed some of the dialogue that follows, when Kitty arrives late for scantily clad sex goddess Emma Frost's big address to the students: "This, children, is Kitty Pryde, who apparently feels the need to make a grand entrance." "I'm sorry. I was busy remembering to put some clothes on." So Joss at least is picking up where Grant Morrison left off, most importantly with Emma's naughty one-liners, and Cassaday is always a joy to feast your eyes on. There's not enough happening in the first issue to really judge what Whedon has in him, but it's a bit rich for Cyclops to justify a return to costumes with "Superheroes wear costumes. And quite frankly all the black leather is making people nervous..." to then prance out to their jet in the most shocking, black S&M gimp suit since Dr. Blasphemy in BRATPACK. Is Joss saying something about Scott's self-awareness?
Daredevil: Father #1 of 5 (£2-60 Marvel) by Joe Quesada, with Richard Isanove on paints. Again, I have to say, not only can Joe draw, but he can write. I just hope he has time to do so amongst all the work being Editor In Chief entails. Isanove provided the colours on Wolverine's ORIGIN, so you can imagine what he's done with Quesada's pencils, and if you though Joe looked good before, he's upped his game, switched styles, and his layouts here are breath-taking. Several sturdy full-page and double-page spreads introduce enough back-story, with a slightly different take on Matt's relationship with his father, before settling down to a new case for the lawyer, which threatens to shed light on his past. Can't see where this or the other two (linked?) threads are going yet, but it's going to be a very beautiful ride finding out. If you're enjoying Bendis' run, this is recommended to the same degree that the aborted Kevin Smith mini-series was not.
Phantom Jack #1, 2 (£2-20 Image) by Mike San Giacomo & Mitchell Breitweiser. Jack is an investigative reporter for the New York Clarion, and has one big advantage over his peers: he can turn invisible. He has a disadvantage too: he's riddled with guilt. Do you think this is going to be predictable? It isn't. For a start, the first and second issues of this series are very different beasts. The first was written - and re-written and re-written - for Marvel's Epic line. Mike - who is also an investigative reporter (albeit for Newsarama), wanted to release it as close as possible to its original publishing date rather than suck out the poison and start afresh. Serious mistake, because it's a pretty awkward read. The dialogue was a victim of scene-setting, the confrontations were forced, and the tears were unfortunate. Now, I don't know how much of this was a result of it being Mike's first script, and how much of it was editorial… "suggestion", but the second issue - and I nearly didn't persevere - boasts several surprises (one of which actually knocked me back a bit), some perky dialogue, and a refusal to play the corporate hero game of consistent sacrifice, selflessness or even living - and thinking - within the law. In fact it refused to play the game of consistency of character, which I wholly applaud, because, you know, we ain't. Nor are we built of mental steel or total altruism. We bear grudges, harbour dark desires, and don't always make good with our convictions. Well, sorry, I do. And I probably would have been in that prison cell just like Jack , with exactly the same idea. I would certainly have hesitated in both instances that Jack hesitates, fatally, and for exactly the same reasons. Sorry, I haven't told you about the story yet, have I? The first two issues bear a sort of symmetry. The prologue is set in Iraq while UN inspectors were searching for Weapons Of Mass Destruction. It's there and then that Jack fails to act. But - and here's what I like - it's not for the last time, because by the end of the second issue, after an interlude in New York, he's back in Baghdad just before the invasion, on the trail of his missing brother, and by the time he leaves the airport he has even more blood on his hands. Now, I'm not saying this is as smoothly written as anything recent by his publicity patron, Brian Michael Bendis. It's not, and the art's rather wonky in places (okay, very wonky in many places). But remember Mike's name, because he thinks outside the traditional box, and let's remember that the first few issues even of CEREBUS were more than a little lame. I'm hoping he either wraps up this series and moves onto something else (though there is so much material here), or settles down, and moves onto the more mundane. I'm also hoping that I'm not completely shamed by what is to come. If he gets as far as a trade paperback, I'll be letting you know.
Deady the Malevolent Teddy (£3-99 Sirius) by Voltaire. How To Make a Tweeny Goth Comic: a) Take something cute b) Make a dark pun out of it. There is no c). No further effort whatsoever is required in the thought, wit or art department. This is - and we're sent some seriously godawful shit through the post, "drawn" in biro - the most puerile comic I have ever endured six pages of. It's not clever puerile, it's not knowingly puerile. It's just puerile.
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The Floaty Bear Thing - "A Roman Dirge thingy." (£13-99) by Roman Dirge. Roman always has a way with packaging. "Pull his tail and he jiggles!... You know, just like real bears." The Common Sense Bunny disclaimer is an entertainment in itself. This has nothing to with any of Dirge's comics - that I'm aware of. In fact it's pointless. Delightfully pointless.
Catwoman t-shirt (S,M,L,XL) Black. Outline of a heart in red, scratched through with red claw marks. So cool I thought it was a LOVE FIGHTS design at first.
UK Postage (overseas at cost): £1-00 for the first comic (unless there's a book included in the package in which case it's just 25 pence), and 25 pence thereafter. £1-00 each for Tokyopop or Lonewolf books, £1-50 each for other books or t-shirts. 'Behind The Panels', 'Cages', 'Comics, Comix & Graphic Novels', 'The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen Absolute Edition' and 'Love & Rockets: The Complete Palomar' will cost a flat £5-00 postage, but anything ordered on top of them will of course be postage free, because..... Maximum postage for all this lot is £5-00. Posters and prints are sent separately @ £1-50.
Standing Orders: To ensure that you never miss a single issue of a title you read, Page 45 provides a free standing order service either for personal collection or sending by post. All you have to do is tell us which titles you want, and we'll save them for you as they come out. You can visit or phone as often as you want, but we must hear from you at least once every three months, please. Single orders and reservations just as gratefully received as any others.
More information can be found in Comics International (£1-50), the Previews catalogue (£3-25), at www.ninthart.com and www.sequentialtart.com or indeed by e-mailing us at page45@page45.com Want tips on producing your own comic? - Download the .pdf - http://www.reddingk.com/ Our web-site address is www.page45.com. Construction, design and management by Dominique Kidd. Removal instructions: there is no way out. Oh, okay, just type 'remove' in the subject heading, and feel our desolation. Page 45 is a comic shop. We are: Mark Simpson Stephen L. Holland with Tom Rosin Page 45 9 Market Street Nottingham NG1 6HY Tel: (0115) 9508045 Monday to Saturday 9am to 6pm. Page 45 mailshots gargled and garbled by Stephen & Mark. Tom flosses his teeth on HOW LOATHSOME, TSUBASA, NEGIMA! and XXXHOLIC.
l e t t e r s
Following last month's prize competition to shame us with typos, the winner of the unique, signed copy of JULIUS goes to Daniel Edgar from London. Well, he's from Cheshire, but likes to travel. He was aided substantially by the fact that his version of the mailshot reached him with dozens of spaces missing between words. I don't understand how, but that's par for the course when it comes to my basic comprehension of technology.
Mr. Kristiansen, artist on the Vertigo hardcover IT'S A BIRD (currently flying out of the shop) is on his way to Bristol this weekend. Saw the feature... You guys are just too kind...thanks a a lot. I’m going to Bristol at the end of the month. will you be there? Cheers Teddy www.teddyk.dk Good to hear from you, Teddy. I was going to be at Bristol but ran out of time. Now I discover Page 45 has just made the shortlist for best UK comic shop for this Friday's Awards Dinner, but if I upped sticks now we'd lose even that very slim chance of winning. And I would like to win, you know. I haven't won anything since the Egg & Spoon Race aged 5.
Thanks to everyone on this list who voted. Well, voted for us, anyway. ;) If you're going to be going to the Bristol Comic Festival this weekend, here's some useful info from Gary Spencer-Millidge: Two pieces of Festival-related artwork will debut at the Bristol Festival (http://comicfestival.co.uk/). A full-colour gouache painting of Katchoo (from Terry Moore’s Strangers In Paradise) will appear on the new Deck of Cards, and the original art will be auctioned off in aid of ChildLine at this weekend’s event, or if you can’t attend, you can peruse the artwork and e-mail an advance bid on the following website: http://www.mogwog.com/sites/gallery/ I’ve also contributed a single page strip featuring 60s British comic character The Cloak for the "Just 1 Page" magazine, also to be launched at the Festival, this time in aid of the Trinity Hospice charity. You can bid on the piece by sending an e-mail to just1page@aol.com Further information, images, links and updates can be found at www.millidge.com Gary's Alan Moore: Portrait of an Extraordinary Gentleman, which raised almost $37,000 for Alzheimer’s sufferers, has just been nominated for a Bram Stoker Award, in the "Nonfiction" category. Nice one, mate. If you're down for STRANGEHAVEN here and you can't wait for your copy which should be with us next week, feel free to buy one directly from the man himself. I'm sure he'll have his table next to Top Shelf's Chris Staros, and the full £2-20 will go directly to Gary, so we really don't mind. Just let us know if you do.
Alex Sarll picked up on two things from the last mailshot: "Captain America & The Falcon: Madbomb (£10-99 Marvel) by Jack Kirby. By 1975 Jack Kirby had decided he could write. He couldn't." PREACH IT! And do you mean "As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods, they [kill (I think)] us for their sport"? That's from King Lear. Yes, that probably was it - I knew I could rely on you. However, to my credit I discover that Thomas Hardy did indeed have something similar to say at the end of Tess Of The D'Urbevilles: "'Justice' was done, and the President of the Immortals, in Aeschylean phrase, had ended his sport with Tess." Not such an illiterate old Hector after all.
In the last letter column I mentioned Donna Barr's principled departure from Girlamatic... Yes, but MODERNTALES and GIRLAMATIC are both great! Go read them! Just cuz we had an in-house spat doesn't mean you can't read the good stuff. And PAID HOME is running on Moderntales, along with BOSOM ENEMIES, DESERT PEACH and VERY OLD STINZ. There's a free page every day. (God, I'm such a schill...) www.moderntales.com
And clarification comes from Robyn Moore concerning the new digest-sized editions of the Strangers In Paradise trade paperbacks. It was Robyn who, when Terry spent several wrist-shattering hours signing and sketching with us, remarked on how unusually clean we were for a comic shop - just as a cigarette wrapper flapped over the carpet and landed on her shoe. Hi Stephen, It is so great to hear from you! We are always so happy when we hear from fans who are customers at your store because we can picture right where you are. The third, yes, third version of SIP will be available to retailers in July and so far we have had nothing but positive feedback on the new sizing. Originally, we had planned this book to make a big splash in the book stores because of its size and price. The book retailers were saying that our trades were too thin when racked with the spines out. So, Terry designed an image that will span the spines of the books to make one cohesive image when all the books are together. Well, of course, the book stores loved this and so did the comic book retailers. Just so you know, because Terry's first love is the comic book industry we are releasing the pocket editions every other month to comic book retailers beginning in July 2004, but they will not be available to book stores until April 2005. The pocket edition will not take the place of the original trade paperbacks or the hardcover editions. It is just another option for readers who might find them easier to handle. I hope this answers all of your questions. Please feel free to email us any time. Best to all, Robyn How characteristically generous of Terry to offer the comicbook retailers first, even though the whole idea was to please booksellers. I've changed my mind, we will have these, possibly in the manga section so the young lads and ladies find themselves confronted by something a little more edifying than the average fling.
There seem to be comics and book festivals all over the island this year. Even off the mainland: Hey Stephen
Thanks for that, I'll have a good mull over it.
By the way, I work for an organisation that runs the Shetland Book Festival. We have major writers this year and last: Ian Rankin, PD James, Val McDermid. We also have a huge bookstall trading area. Last year FP came, but they mostly had action figures and not much comics. If you'd like a space you can have it free - all you'd need to do is fill a transit and spend 14 hours on a boat from Aberdeen. Unfortunately I couldn't meet that cost but you might make it back in sales and have a great weekend. It's in September.
Oh, and Cam Kennedy will be there. Talking about Batman.
My good friend Andrew recommended your site and service to me, and I can see why.
Let me know
Alex That's the third Shetland Book Festival, Wordplay 2004, in September. Further info: Shetland Arts Trust 01595 694001
Charles Ellis writes: First, I think I accidentally resent an ancient E-mail from you, sorry about that. I don't think you did, but it certainly wouldn't be a problem. One poor soul received the last Page 45 mailshot four times in a day, and at that size nearly brought his whole mailbox down. Now that is a problem, though we have no idea how it could have happened. We appear to be experiencing some difficulties at the moment - and we're not alone, it seems - with AOL bouncing everything back as junk, and other mailshots returning as "undelivered" even though the discovered that the e-shots had indeed been received. Dominique and Mark are working on it, but in meantime our sincerest apologies to anyone who's been at all inconvenienced. I know I'd be more than a little peeved myself. [But] in defence of Darkham Vale - it did in fact get a favourable write-up by SFX magazine. Which is all well and good, but it's a bit dumb of AP to try and sell the series based on that instead, say, the plot and art. And a rather good plot and art it is too, but saying "it's the best thing read last year by a magazine not immediately known for reading books" is just setting it up unfairly. AP really seem to suck at their promoting (the back of the Darkham Vale tpb doesn't even have a blurb telling us what happens! What's going on there then?) And now, words of wisdom from random supervillains:
"You did that?! To your own sister?!" "Yes, yes, yes. Rather good, isn't it?" Brrr. What are you reading?! In further defence of the bloke from AP (it really is very unprofessional not to register the man's name - very sorry), he did try to sell the book on the plot and in particular the art, as well as a write-up. And in further, further defence not only have AP twice now sent out free sample copies of various books to retailers - which I consider a pretty good stab at promotion - but the chap-on-the-phone offered to send me copies on consignment (which means if they didn't sell we could return them and not have lost a penny). I can't fault that at all. My hackles were raised (to be blunt, they gouged a sizeable chunk out of the shop floor ceiling) at the suggestion that it was within the remotest realms of possibility that the book could possibly stand up against Sacco, Satrapi or even - I don't know - Bendis and Bagley. Just as our readers would greet any attempt on our part to claim superiority to the Times Literary Supplement - or even Rich Johnston's on-line Lying In The Gutters - with a snort of derision, it really doesn't do to talk bullshit. Speaking of Rich, this week sees his 1,000th edition of Lying In The Gutters, and the opening salvo alone was enough to make a middle-aged juvenile cry with laughter. It's not just scurrilous gossip - although, yeah, largely it is - most comicbook news breaks there first, and for my money it's by far the most entertaining column on the whole of the web. Favourite recently? "Marvel Kicks Ass."
Finally, ever since Geoff Savory question Bryan Hitch's hairdressing skills in April part B, a tenacious thread concerning the ULTIMATES won't go away. If you are curious as to where an SF or comic book writer might find inspiration, in this case for The Ultimates vol II and the aliens, try to google "reptilian chitauri". Yours, Eolake Hmmm. It like to test these things first. Work's google wasn't very compliant, so I dropped the inverted commas and lo and behold: "Il grande Tempio di Ammon o Amen Ra fu edificato in prossimità di un potente vortice d'energia (dovuto all'incrocio dei meridiani) a Tebe o Karnac (da Amen o Ammon è derivata la formula cristiana Amen). Sotto Tebe/Karnac si snoda un complesso di tunnel noto anche come Catacombe del Serpente. "Come effetto delle migrazioni degli Egiziani (o dei Nordici che arrivarono nella regione Egizia) troviamo Carnac anche in Bretagna. Un tempo qui c'erano 10.000 menhir, disposti in modo da formare l'immagine di un serpente lungo dodici chilometri. Carnac significa Collina del Serpente. Gli antichi testi egiziani noti come Testi delle Piramidi parlano del serpente come di un essere sia sotterraneo che celestiale. Furono raffigurati serpenti volanti nell'atto di trasportare i faraoni verso la terra dell'immortalità in una costellazione del cielo. "L'antica grande città di Alessandria era detta Città del Figlio del Serpente (Alessandro il grande) e lì si venerava il Dio serpente, Serapis. Costui era noto come il serpente sacro o serpente di fuoco e da qui deriva il termine biblico di serafino, il serpente associato con Yahweh (Geova)." Manuele Which was far more information than I'd bargained for.
