Review: Great Pacific Volume 1

Posted on May 13, 2013 by Joe

This review was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet Blog:

Great Pacific Volume 1 : Trashed!
Joe Harris, Martin Morazzo
Image Comics

Chas Worthington, the mega rich young heir to an enormous oil fortune, known for his womanising, his extreme sports hobbies and other wealthy pastimes. The Great Pacific Gyre, a rotation of currents that creates a relatively stable spot in the vast ocean currents, where gargantuan amounts of (mostly plastic) garbage flushed into the seas slowly accumulates over years. What does this rich young man and a gigantic, floating garbage patch have in common? What about claiming it as a new sovereign nation?

Chas may lead the playboy lifestyle expected of someone in his position, but behind the scenes he has been deviously out-manoeuvring the treacherous board of directors of his own firm (who want to take more control from him following his father’s death), funnelling vast funds into a secret tech project to do with altering the physicality of plastics and planning to get necessary equipment to the garbage patch, while also making contacts in various governments with strong UN presences who he can ask to help international law recognise his claim to set up the floating plastic continent as a legal country with sovereign state rights.

In lesser hands this could be a pretty straightforward (and clichéd) tale of rich boy who has guilt because his inherited wealth came from hugely polluting industry and wants to make amends. Joe Harris and Martin Morazzo, however, offer up a more complex and satisfying tale. Chas is not a stereotype – yes, he has done the ‘rich kid stuff’, yes, he feels guilt over his wealth coming from polluting exploitation of the world’s resources, but he’s no eco-warrior. He has multiple reasons for what he is doing, only some of which start to become apparent in this first volume. Some are indeed driven by ecological concerns, although he has seen enough of the big corporate world to know they will only back necessary changes if there is a lot of money to be made in it, hence his secretly developed new tech. Other reasons may well include the need to stand out and be his own man, make something by and of himself, not what was handed to him as a rich heir. And he’s not always likeable either, cutting others short, assuming his best friend and assistant will follow him (and not thinking too much about how much he is asking him to risk, without really telling him why) and he is impulsive, his Texan blood making him perhaps too quick on the trigger (which will have consequences).

It’s not a simple plan though; however much he thinks he has prepared and done all the relevant research, this is still something no-one has ever attempted, after all. And then there are complications you don’t expect – pirates seeking hidden WMDs, the intervention of the US government, both legally and militarily, a mysterious group of Pacific islanders who seem to have settled somehow on the garbage patch. And then there is a gigantic Octopus, which the islanders think may be a sort of god, with which he starts to form a strange relationship. The massive floating garbage patches in the gyres of the ocean were first predicted in the late 80s and are now scientific fact (see here for more), although Harris takes some science fictional liberties with it for dramatic purposes, such as making it large and solid enough to walk on and even build upon a little (very carefully!).This also allows Morazzo’s art (which at time reminds me, in a good way, of the Luna Brothers) to depict some spectacularly weird, alien landscape.

But it’s a fascinating premise, a driven and complicated young man playing at both ecology and international politics and corporate business at the same time, in a setting which only exists because of our civilisation’s own wastefulness of material and uncaring methods of disposing of our unwanted rubbish. Clever and intriguing, drawing on several contemporary global concerns, not least pollution of our environment, exploitation of dwindling resources, divisions of wealth, power and influence and corporate-goverment interests and powers (or abuses thereof). This took a very different path from what I originally thought it might be, which pleased me no end (I love when a storyteller throws me a curve ball and hits be some something I wasn’t expecting) and I’m looking forward to the second volume. Plus, y’know, it had pirates and a giant (and perhaps intelligent and aware?) octopus, what’s not to like?!

Review: Porcelain

Posted on April 19, 2013 by Joe

This review was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet blog:

Porcelain: a Gothic Fairy Tale

Benjamin Read, Chris Wildgoose

Improper Books

I had my first glimpse of Porcelain towards the end of last year when Improper Books’ Matt Gibbs was kind enough to give us a sneak-peek ahead of the teaser pages they were taking to last November’s Thought Bubble. There are some works where I get an instant vibe – call it the bookseller’s tingle – that tells me even before I start that a book or comic is going to be good, and that instinct rarely misleads me. And after a good wait, when I finally got to read the entire book I was pleased to see that instinct was still sharp, because this is good work. Better than good work, it’s utterly beautiful, a delightful concoction that partakes of Victorian novels, elements of the industrial revolution’s real history, the fantastical fairy tale (and even elements of Bluebeard and perhaps Little Orphan Annie) and a very elegant form of Steampunk, all woven through a tale which is by turns mysterious, charming, touching and frightening.

We begin, as any good Victorian drama probably should, in the cold, snow-bound city with a group of ragamuffin street urchins. Overseen – and indeed brutally bullied by – Belle, they are braving the curfew in order to spy out opportunities for a little light larceny. The imposing gates and wall of a large estate promise a rich, tempting target within, but none of the children are willing to go in, because they believe an evil wizard lives inside the mansion. Eventually our young heroine is forced up and over the wall against her will – as it turns out, fortunately for her, since the small band she was with are brutally apprehended by the constabulary just moments later, and thieves, the constable delights in telling them, swing for their sins…

(pages here (c) Benjamin Read and Chris Wildgoose, published Improper Books, click for the larger versions)

Inside though there are still perils for our little heroine; as she descends a large, twisted tree, winter-bare, into the snowy garden beyond the walls there are eyes watching her, glowing, red eyes. Suddenly two gleaming white beasts emerge from the snowy darkness – but not flesh and blood beasts, no common guard dogs these. Instead they are gleaming white porcelain, some form of clever automata. But like a fleshly guard dog they are dangerous and set on protecting their master from intruders – luckily he spots the girl and halts them just in time. Understandably irked by this intrusion into his grounds this very large, bearded man demands an explanation. When she puts on an attempt at a posh accent and asks oh-so innocently, oh isn’t this where the ball is being held? I must be lost… At this point the man laughs and the ice is broken. In a more amicable manner he agrees to see her out, no harm done, but when the shabbily dressed child almost faints in the cold he realises she is tired and malnourished; picking her up in his huge arms he carries her inside for warmth and food.

And so the scene is set for a tale that mixes warm charm with hints of the dangerous and unspoken. The ‘wizard’ is in fact an engineer who creates the ‘porcelains’, which just like the ‘creamware’ of Josiah Wedgwood are all the rage. Except where Wedgwood perfected porcelain tableware to royal standards our rotund engineer crafts delicate porcelain mannequins which can think and move – his household has no other human being in it, just a staff of these delicately white, mostly silent automata. He alone can make them walk and act (and in a few cases talk), and he can scarcely keep up with the demand – which has made him very wealthy. And yet he sits alone in his vast mansion under the weight of a secret sadness, until the girl comes. Realising she has no real family to return to and only the cold street to live on, he asks her to stay. Both need to get used to being in a relationship – having a roof over her head and someone to care for her is new for our untrusting street child, while our wizard has to get used to caring for a child, which involves far more than simply clothing and feeding her. She slowly starts to trust and love, his clearly once generous heart is reminded that it too can love again, and it’s a very sweet sequence as two lost souls find reason for being by caring for each other.

“It has been winter within these walls forever it seems. You have brought summer back to my life and this is my thank you. Happy birthday, sweet child.”

Of course if all went on as sweetly as this we’d have a shorter and more sugary tale. But anyone who knows their fairy tales – or even their Dickens – will know that something is going to happen, that part of the girl’s past (she and the engineer are never specifically named, deliberately) will come back, and there is the question of why an eligible and kind-hearted, wealthy man is living alone with only his automata for company. We know he had a wife, but what happened? He shows her the whole mansion, gardens and even his workshop (where he begins at her insistence to train her in his delicate arts), but one locked chamber in his porcelain workshop is forever off-limits to her, and as with the tale of Bluebeard the reader wonders what is really in there and worries that curiosity may eventually drive our little heroine to look where she shouldn’t. And then there is the question of the porcelains themselves…

It is to the great credit of Benjamin and Chris that what may seem to be a nice fairytale, semi Steampunk take on the Little Orphan Annie meets Bluebeard tale, proves to be much more. While it certainly partakes of those other stories it crafts its own distinctive path and is its own beast, taking in some remarkable twists along the way, which I won’t spoil here. It’s an utterly beautiful piece of work, a charming yet sometimes disturbing and scary tale – and a fairy tale should be scary as well as magical, it’s part of their raison d’etre – which boasts some truly gorgeous comics artwork by Chris (some of the scenes demand you stop reading the tale for a moment and just drink in the art, the magical porcelain garden splash page is simply wonderful).

It can be enchanting and magical (a special birthday present crafted by the engineer is wondrous), it takes in elements of the fairy tale and Gothic and Victorian novel, mixes the uplifting with the disturbing, but really, at its core its about that aching, deep need to care for someone and to be cared for and the way that enriches our lives beyond all measure; it’s about a daughter who needs a father and a father who needs a child. This is one of those books you will keep coming back to, the sort you will find yourself recommending to others and picking out as a present to friends, and without a doubt one of the most beautiful graphic novels of the year.

Report: the free Dundee Comics Expo 2013

Posted on April 4, 2013 by Joe

This report was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet Blog:

Last Saturday the free Dundee Comic Expo, organised by Phil Vaughan and Chris Murray (well-kent faces on the Scottish comics scene), took place in Dundee University, helping to fill the springtime comics hole left by having no Hi-Ex this March, and I headed up from Edinburgh, crossing two of Scotland’s great rivers that help carve our coastline into its distinctive shape. As with the trip to Hi-Ex the actual travelling to the convention affords some beautiful views out the train window as the Scottish landscape slips by.

(above: shot from the train going over the Tay Bridge on a cold but bright spring day to Dundee; below: Phil Vaughan and Chris Murray, organisers of the event. I had to shoot in black and white as the camera’s colour sensor was overloaded by Chris’ shirt. All photos from my Flickr, click for the larger versions)

I arrived a little before the doors officially opened, which gave me some time to chat briefly to Phil and Chris (after paying our respects to PC Murdoch of course) as they were seeing to last moment arrangements, and to some of the comickers behind the tables in the Baxter Suite and the larger (and very airy due to lots of natural light) College Hall, where most of the small press folk and the dealers were finishing setting up. Right away as I entered College Hall I spotted Gary Erskine, having a quick natter with Monty Nero. These days wherever Gary goes at a comic con there is likely to be some representation from the Roller Derby crew nearby – the girls on skates have become a bit of a fixture at some of the Caledonian comics events these days, brightening things up, plus it’s good to know they are there to keep an eye on Gary.

(above: Gary Erskine chatting to Monty Nero; below: setting up before the doors officially opened to fans)

On spotting a table full of diverse works from one of our fine UK small press teams who have effectively grown into a publishing stable, Accent UK, I thought the chap behind the table might be Colin Mathieson, and so it was. As is the nature of my work I talk to a lot of folks on the comics and books scene but since we’re all in different parts of the country I don’t get to see them, and despite the fact I’ve swapped emails for years with Colin and his Accent compadre Dave West I’ve never actually met him so it was a pleasure to actually see him in the flesh and get a chance to talk to him for a while (readers in North America can see the Accent UK gang at the upcoming MOCCA gig in New York).

I’d remembered to bring my little leather journal which I’ve been using as a sketchbook and Colin, after telling me he was planning to return to more drawing and less concentration on just writing, was kind enough to do a great sketch for me in my wee book to add to the collection. I had a funny feeling looking at the array of their titles spread out on the table, it was like looking at a slice of Richard’s reviews on the blog as he has covered quite a few from Accent over the years. Since they were sitting there so temptingly in front of me I decided to buy a few while I was there.

Continuing round the hall I stopped to talk to writer Jim Alexander, who I hadn’t seen since Hi-Ex the previous March.

And since he was well placed with his table at a good corner of the hall I also nipped behind his table to take a shot of the event from the perspective of the writers and artists, so here’s the view of the Dundee Comic Expo via Jim-cam:

Being Dundee, home of the mighty DC Thomson, it’s will surprise no-one that there was a presence from some of their titles and characters, be it PC Murdoch from the long-running Oor Wullie strip greeting visitors outside the Baxter suite, numerous DCT pieces among the artwork displayed around the expo and naturally long-running titles like the Beano and Commando were available from the DCT tables.

And indeed if you arrive by rail there’s a collection of Dandy and Beano characters such as Dennis the Menace (with Gnasher, naturally), Desperate Dan and several of Leo Baxendale’s creations like Minnie the Minx and some of the Bash Street Kids (annoyingly I only saw it on the way home, when it was evening, so excuse the poor light quality – still a great sign to welcome visitors though!):

Moogs Kewell had her comic work – a neat wee landscape format travel work about Japan (which I had to buy for myself to read later) in a manga-influenced style, and some fabulous hand-made jewellery – I had to take a close up photo for one of my manga and anime-mad colleagues, who was especially delighted at Moogs’ supercute Domo earrings (I thought she would be) – you can check them out and order her geektastic jewellery for yourself over on her Etsy store.

After checking in with Pete and John from Glasgow’s Indy-friendly Plan B store who had a nice array of good titles to choose from I saw David Lloyd; I’ve swapped emails over the years with David, but never had the chance to meet him so it was a delight to meet in person the man who created the art for one of my favourite books of all time. David was sketching a certain Fawkesian-masked character for a fan and we had a short chat, then to my surprise I found an entire hour had gone past already and I had to scoot off to the lecture hall to listen to David giving his talk, which mostly concentrated on discussing Aces Weekly, the interesting new digital-only take on the traditional British anthology style weekly comic, which boasts a hugely impressive talent roster.

David discussed the digital model, how there was no up-front payment but everyone took equal shares from anything made (he himself put his own dosh into starting it up) and, as he said, there’s no middle man like a distributor to take a cut, so anything made goes to the people who actually made the strips. With a talent pool that is obviously busy with other professional engagements it isn’t the money that’s the draw though, it’s the huge amount of creative freedom they have. David seemed quite happy with Aces as it passes its second volume mark and plans to keep it going, but as with other digital-only comics he added that there’s always a need to drive for more subscribers (and if you are thinking that sounds interesting then check David’s guest Commentary on Aces we ran here a few months ago), so do have a look.

The vagaries of rumbling tummies and lunch meant I unfortunately missed a chunk of Laura Sneddon‘s talk on the hidden history of women in comics, but did manage to get to the second half and what I heard was interesting, some of it I had heard of before but a good bit that I hadn’t come across (always good to find out new things), and it reminded me of a similarly themed and equally fascinating talk I attended at Edinburgh’s Central Library from the Glasgow Women’s Group last year. Hannah Berry‘s talk followed and she was, as ever, delightfully animated and passionate about the medium. The only drawback for me was that in the relatively low light of the lecture hall it’s hard to get a decent picture without using the flash (which is a bit intrusive), and Hannah is so animated I had a virtual roll of picture of her obscured by the blur or rapidly gesticulating arms. I haven’t seen Hannah since she was at the Edinburgh Book Festival a few years ago so it was good to see her again and hear her talking about her latest work, the excellent and creepy Adamtine (you can read a guest Commentary by Hannah on that book here on the blog).

(above: Laura Sneddon’s talk on the hidden history of women; below Hannah Berry’s talk)

Bryan and Mary Talbot also gave a talk, still aglow with their win from the prestigious Costa book award (the first time a graphic novel has won that major UK literary gong, competing directly against the prose works, a great achievement for them and a nice acknowledgement of the medium and its potential). Bryan decided that Mary should do most of the talking. Most of the talk concentrated on their award-winning Dotter of Her Father’s Eyes (one of my own picks for Best of the Year), and it was, appropriately for a book which has so much autobiography in it, well illustrated not only with projections of finished and work-in-progress artwork from the book but with plenty of photographs, some general reference works for the art and design, but many from family photo albums used to help in creating the work. Mary and Bryan also talked a little more at the end about Mary’s next work, which she had mentioned last summer at their Edinburgh Book Festival appearance, which will use a fictional character to explore the era of the Suffragettes. And yes, we have another guest Commentary post to point you to if you missed it last year, where Mary and Bryan talked us through making Dotter (obviously we’ll hope to bring you more on the new work further down the line too).

Sadly I had to miss Nigel Dobbyn‘s talk so I could get a last turn around the two rooms where the creators and dealers had their tables, and managed to get brief chats with some more folks and see how it had gone for them – the general consensus was that it was a nice event, small but very accessible and nicely scaled for folk to chat to each other, and they seemed pleased with how they had done on the tables too. For my part I had a great time talking to folks (annoyingly I only found out later on Twitter I had missed a couple of folks I know online who were there and who didn’t know I was, c’est la vie), getting to meet others for the first time, picking up some small press comics for my collection, and the nature of the event lent it a very accessible and friendly, open feeling with readers, dealers and the writers and artists, both professional and self published, all mixing freely, a very nice vibe to the day.

Reviews: Medusa

Posted on April 1, 2013 by Joe

This review was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet blog:

Medusa
Chris Kent
Graphite Fiction

“I wondered, what if a modern day soldier saw a face so horrific, it could turn him to stone?” Chris Kent in his Director’s Commentary.

I’ve been anticipating reading Chris Kent’s fascinating-looking Medusa since it first was listed for pre-orders in Previews a few months ago, and his recent guest Director’s Commentary here on the blog increased my desire to read this unusual work, so I was delighted when Chris dropped by to say hi when he was in town and also drop off a copy of the book. Ostensibly it is the story of a British soldier, Corporal Elliot Ford, fighting in Iraq when he gets news from home that his daughter has gone missing, and he is sent home on compassionate grounds. But home and the battleground may be separate geographically, but such distancing between the two is not so simple in the scarred mind of the veteran soldier…

This is not just a tale of the mental wounds so many of our armed forces personnel carry home with them, important though that issue is (especially given a recent news report just the other week about how veterans are more likely to find themselves doing something violent because of their experiences and training, without meaning to, yet another festering wound for too many), as Chris takes elements of Elliot’s combat experiences and his family life back home, then mixes them with his deepest fears and mythology. Who is the young woman he saw in Iraq watching his squad just before an explosion? Was she a suicide bomber? An innocent bystander caught up in an eruption of violence in what had once been her own neighbourhood? Why does her face haunt him? Why does he keep thinking of her, seeing her face? And when he gets the news of his daughter’s disappearance back home why is it he feels some subconscious link between both women? Is there a link? How could there be?

Medusa is suffused with this dark, confused, tormented view of events and Chris wisely opts not to give the reader the ‘god’ position, where we can look upon the narrative and know more than the characters, instead we see this mixed up world through the filter of Elliot’s increasingly frantic, desperate attempts to make sense of things, struggling to comprehend what he is experiencing, to understand what is real and what must only – surely? – be in his mind, constantly driven to find his girl, to make sure she is safe.

There’s a real feel of drowning slowly in dark, cold waters here – Chris mixes his own art with an almost collage-like collection of images from newspapers, reworked to fit the tale; rather than the traditional sequence of panels and speech bubbles of most comics this is a series of overlapping images, some dark splashes through which figures or scenes can be barely glimpsed, others like snapshots from a soldier’s diary of life at the front, some flow, others suddenly break up violently into jagged, fractured scenes, emulating both the sudden eruption of adrenalin and violence and danger that comes with a routine patrol suddenly flaring into instant combat action and also the stressed and strained mind of the combat veteran, trying to keep it together for the sake of his unit and his mates relying on each other, then trying to keep it together because he has to be strong, he has to strive for his girl, while all around him he can feel the demons waiting to sink their teeth into him and drag him into dark chaos.

The art approach may put some off, but I found it highly appropriate to the story, a mix of the almost documentary then the broken, fractured scenes, the almost photographic collage collapsing into painted darkness; it gives a flavour of the anguished state of Elliot’s mind, not just his frantic search for his missing daughter (handled so well, anyone who’s had a family emergency will empathise with that lurching, dropping feeling, the panic, the attempt to try to make sense of it, to be ‘strong’ for others and deal with it while wanting to collapse within) but also how the constant strain of patrols and combat and seeing comrades injured or killed, civilians harmed, starts to break down the defences of the mind, causing emotional damage as surely as bullets and bombs do physical wounds. The swirling darkness and struggle to comprehend events that refuse to fall into a regular three-act chronological narrative (even his sense of time starts to break down – how long has he searched? A week, a month? Or has he only been home for a couple of days?), and Elliot’s perspective is ours, so we share that disorientation.

And the Medusa herself? Is that haunting image of the young woman really just a young woman or is she an aspect of an ancient myth, the achingly beautiful rendered monstrous? It’s hard to tell until very late on just how much is in Elliot’s deeply wounded mind and how much is real, and that is how it should be (and I won’t spoil it by going into more on that intriguing aspect of the tale). This is a journey through the Heart of Darkness, and like the voyage up-river to the lair of Colonel Kurtz there is that deepening fear in the soldier that the darkness is infecting him too, and through him perhaps his own flesh and blood, his family, that his actions will lead to karmic payback for what he has had to do, a spiritual, emotional stain that could go beyond his own self and actions to others he cares for.

Elements of Apocalypse Now are in there, also perhaps a nod to the fascinating Tim Robbins movie Jacob’s Ladder. But where this journey through darkness will take Elliot, that’s the real question? Is this a journey of a wounded soul to redemption or a spiral into chaotic despair? A highly unusual, deeply disturbing, dark tale, the mythological elements are timeless and echo the fact that for all the hi-tech equipment of the modern soldier, warfare itself is also, sadly, timeless, and equipment is but a tool, at the end of the day, regardless of century it is the humble squaddie who is at the heart of it, and what it does to the soldier.

Reviews: Hawkeye Volume 1 – My Life as a Weapon

Posted on March 27, 2013 by Joe

This review was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet blog:

Hawkeye Volume 1 : My Life as a Weapon

Matt Fraction and David Aja

Marvel Comics

“Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, became the greatest sharp-shooter known to man. He then joined the Avengers. This is what he does when he’s not being an Avenger. That’s all you need to know.” From the introduction.

Oh, where to start with Matt Fraction and David Aja’s superb, rollicking ride of a superhero series? I’ve never been a huge Hawkeye fan, but FPI Glasgow’s Nicola raved about this so much on our blog that I picked up the first couple of issues. And I am glad I did, I liked it; in fact I liked it so much it made my annual Best of the Year list (and some of our other Best Of posters picked it too).I love when someone puts you on to something unexpectedly good, something you’d probably never have picked up otherwise – I mean that’s why we all love to talk about our favourite comics and books, after all, share the love of them, hopefully spread it around.

This is Clint Barton’s life when he’s not busy being an Avenger and saving the world as Hawkeye. This is Clint the guy who lives in an old apartment block, talks to his neighbours (and tries to help them out although he often messes up in the most endearing fashion), who know who he is (even if some keep calling him “that Hawkguy” by mistake). And even outside of his epic Avengers role Clint seems to continually walk into trouble, be it relationships (Kate Bishop is almost like an apprentice to him, except numerous times she proves to be as good as him and has to rescue Clint, while the will-they, won’t-they chemistry between them is superb leading to some cracking inter-personal scenes between the pair), the mystery women that breeze in and out of his life (and bed, always with some sort of I-knew-it-was-too-good-to-be-true consequences, of course), tracksuit wearing, Mini driving Russian mafia goons, secret video files and more.

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And along the way there is the day to day stuff; Clint trying to be ‘normal’ (whatever that is), helping neighbours move stuff, attempting to sort out cable problems for another neighbour and her kids after buying the block (to fend off a greedy landlord who attempted to screw his neighbours over – not every victory is won by a battle, sometimes lots of cash works well too, fortunately Clint is very rich), trying to take care of a homeless dog, unpack his own belongings (including, in one great sequence, a bewildering array of ‘trick’ arrows that Aja & Fraction then gleefully give him an excuse to use) and organise his apartment to be like a regular place a regular person would live in. And throughout often sparking off Kate, who is more than a match for him, be it in the middle of action or on a high society bash stake out.

“Keep your eyes open. Keep it casual. Casual. Casual. Nice and…”

“Clint”

“Casual. Casual. Super casual.”

“You know there’s nothing casual about a guy muttering ‘casual’ to himself over and over again, right?”

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And all his good intentions always end up in some sort of unintended action (including a brilliant car chase that partakes of both The Italian Job and Bullit). Or his mixing with the neighbours on the roof on a nice day, barbecue, some beers, relaxing, being a regular guy, not just an Avenger as he keeps telling is neighbours – right up until a huge shadow falls over them all and they look up to see a massive SHIELD vessel floating over the roof, ropes drop out, black-garbed action men rapel down, grab Clint without so much as a by your leave and pull him straight up into the air for an urgent mission, while the nonplussed neighbours look on with an “I told you he was a big Avenger guy” expression, a wonderfully deadpan comedy moment.

Yes, it is clever writing, with some smart takes on the superhero genre and what they do when they’re not saving the world and battling supervillains. It has sassy dialogue, superb characterisation, humour, romance, drama, sex, car chases, diving out of buildings, falling into pools, saving ‘orphaned’ dogs, pulling mad stunts, all of them depicted with great art that walks the fine line between realistic and cartoony (right down to an old style Hawkeye mask placed over Clint’s naughty bits when he has to dive naked from bed when hoods machine gun it! A lovely, cheeky nod and wink to the audience).

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It has all of those elements, but what elevates it from good to brilliant is that in addition to those Hawkeye is purely and simply fun. Huge, enormous, your own floating bar in your very own pool staffed by monkey butlers fun. And dammit, we like the gritty stuff, the dark stuff, the autobio stuff and the serious, heavy, introspective stuff that the medium can deliver so well, but sometimes a comic read should just be darned good fun. And this is about the best fun you can have with your clothes on, one of the best reads in comics right now. If you’ve not been picking up the issues over the last few months then do yourself a favour and grab this first collection.

Interview With the Vampire – Claudia’s Story

Posted on December 1, 2012 by Joe

Interview With the Vampire – Claudia’s Story

Based on the novel by Anne Rice, adapted by Ashley Marie Witter

Headline

I’ll start by confessing straight up that Anne Rice’s Interview With the Vampire is one of my favourite novels. Originally published in the mid 70s it has sold in the millions and spawned a connected series, the Vampire Chronicles as well as a beautifully shot film by the very fine Neil Jordan. It is also one of the most influential novels in the vampire literary cannon, arguably as important to the genre in the 20th century as Stoker’s Dracula was to the 19th; both books are landmarks in the genre. I’ve re-read it several times over the years and in fact re-read it again just a few weeks before this adaptation arrived on my desk. It isn’t the first time the Vampire Chronicles have been adapted to the comics medium – I still have some of the Innovation comics adaptations in my collection (see here). However this is not a straightforward comics interpretation – instead Ashley Marie Witter has taken the original tale, which saw the 200 year old vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac narrating his life story to a young reporter, from his mortal life in the late 1700s plantation near New Orleans to the present day, and retold it, but this time from the perspective of one of the most singular characters in the novel – and indeed in all of vampire literature – the child vampire Claudia.

Ashley begins the story with a seriously ill Claudia – a beautiful young girl with a doll-like face and golden curls – being brought across by Lestat, the older, dominant vampire who made Louis into his immortal companion. As a shocked Louis watches, Lestat gashes his own wrist and offers it to Claudia, telling her she has to drink to get better from her illness. The human child drinks from Lestat and is transformed into an immortal vampire, endless, unchanging, in an incorruptible body that survives on a diet of human blood each and every night. Lestat has his own motivations for his actions – knowing that Louis is increasingly unhappy living with him he creates Claudia to be their ‘daughter’, her diminutive size and appearance making her as dependent on their support for her survival as any mortal child would be to its parents, locking Louis to him and their lifestyle, effectively forming an immortal, blood-drinking family unit. Realising what he has done calls Lestat a bastard and a fiend, while Lestat merely smiles in satisfaction, “such language in front of your daughter,” he mocks. I’m not your daughter, the little voice pipes up, I’m my mama’s daughter. Not anymore, Lestat informs her, now you are mine and Louis’ daughter…

As obvious and transparent as this gambit is, it works – Louis, the sensitive soul who finds immortal life difficult, wrestling with the morality of his existence, of the need to feed on human beings to sustain immortal life, cannot bring himself to leave with Claudia there, for her to be left only with Lestat to look after her. And so the trio settle into an uneasy family life – as with any family the child learns from both her carers. From Louis she learns an appreciation for the arts and the finer things of human existence, while from Lestat she learns the art of hunting and killing her human prey, something she takes to with great enthusiasm. Louis, the more nurturing of the two, is the one she loves, Lestat less so, but she still pays attention to the lessons he can teach her, until as the years pass she realises that he isn’t prepared to answer some of the deeper questions she starts to formulate, particularly regarding their own existence – why are there vampires, how did they come into existence, which vampire made Lestat and why does he never mention him? He becomes regularly enraged at her questions and when he refuses to explain she decides he simply doesn’t have the knowledge she desires but is reluctant to let her or Louis know, preferring to pretend to have access to secrets about their vampire nature that they may need for their survival.

At this point it becomes clear that she enjoys provoking him over such points and at first it might be easy to see this as the actions of a child. But Claudia, despite her deceptive appearance, is no child – decades have passed since she received the Dark Gift, and while like all vampires her body is forever fixed as it was at the moment of her mortal death, her mind has grown. She is now a mature, experienced woman, realising that while she may be a swift, immortal predator, she is trapped inside this child’s body – forever. She cannot physically grow up and this, along with her growing desire to know why ‘her kind’ exist and the fact that, denied a real childhood, she has grown up with a lack of empathy and human morality (unlike her ‘parents’ she did not have the luxury of experiencing human life for long to ground her for later life), will trigger an explosive, bloody rupture in their artificial family…

There’s much more, but I don’t want to spoil it for you if you haven’t read the original novel (and indeed if you have read it, you may know the major events, but I don’t want to spoil how they come across when viewed from Claudia’s point of view). Ashley handles portraying both Claudia’s childhood innocence and her later knowing, determined adult personality with a deft touch – since her physical body cannot change much of this has to be conveyed through gesture, expression and body language, a task the artist achieves magnificently, moving from beautiful child to cold-hearted, century old immortal killer with the small change of facial expression. In one scene the panels move closer and closer to Claudia’s doll-like face (and indeed despite the decades passing both her fathers still treat her like a beautiful doll), until the perspective zooms into a close up of her eyes, which are the eyes of a predator, of a cat, glowing, shining, luminous – beautiful yet dangerous because you don’t know if the mind behind them is regarding you with amused condescendion or if they are sizing you up as dinner.

Reframing the original events from Claudia’s perspective raises this beyond simple adaptation (not that there is anything wrong with a straight adaptation) and to someone like me who has read the original series it seems kind of fair – the novel of Interview is from the point of view of Louis, the second novel, The Vampire Lestat, allows Lestat to comment on those events from his perspective, but Claudia, until now, didn’t receive such treatment. Ashley’s artwork is absolutely delicious – you may remember quite some time ago I posted a piece of art from the book when it was first announced she was working on it, and it was a gorgeous looking piece of work. Well the finished book is even more beautiful, the artwork mostly sepia-tinted (except for expressive scarlet splashes of blood dripping from fangs, or in blood tears from the eyes, which stand out with the vibrant hue of the blood in the early Hammer films when they were introduced to audiences more used to black and white), and wonderfully delicate and as lush, sensual and decadent as the original novel itself; this is one of those comics works I will find myself going back through again to pore over some of the delicious artwork. The erotic subtext of the original is preserved and, as with the novel, delicately layered through and hinted at rather than too obvious. The book itself is a very handsome small hardback, good stock glossy paper that shows off Ashley’s beautiful artwork to great effect – not just a good read but an attractive addition to your shelves; much recommended.

This review was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet blog

Hipster Hitler

Posted on November 12, 2012 by Joe

Hipster Hitler,

James Carr and Archana Kumar,

Feral House

I’ve flagged up Carr and Kumar’s clever webcomic Hipster Hitler on here before; I first came across it online a couple of years back and then, as many of you will doubtless know, it appeared in the comics pages that the fine Stool Pigeon includes. Humour, of course, is a very subjective taste – when Richard covered the Stool Pigeon strips this was one that didn’t so much appeal for him, for instance, while I was consistently cracked up by it, so obviously I was pretty happy to get my hands on this collected print volume of the strips.

As you may infer from the title the main idea for this satirical take on the Nazi Fuhrer is conflating one of the 20th century’s most evil dictators with the poseur douche figure of the self-obsessed, style over substance (but pretending to be all substance) hipster figure. And while that does offer up a good comedy image, it’s not quite enough to sustain it by itself for strip after strip, and it’s to Carr and Kumar’s credit that they don’t rely on that idea exclusively; it forms the basis, the format for the series, but there are clever little tricks all the way through, most notably the very changing T-shirts Hitler sports throughout (often very funny if you know your history to get the references – one T proclaims “Triumph of the Chill”, another has “1941: a Race Odyssey”, “Weimar Guitar Gently Weeps”) and the little text introduction at the top of each strip, which manage to combine a bit of actual history with the comedy, one strip on his virulent anti-Semitism starting with the introduction noting how Hitler “blamed the Jews for Germany having lost World War I and further accused them of degenerating the arts, trying to take over the world and causing the breakup of the Smiths.”

The collected edition is arranged chronologically, sampling the webcomic’s run in historical order, from Hitler’s early life, leaving his rural Austrian home (he is too poor to afford stylishly distressed clothing, he explains to his family) to try his luck in Vienna, before joining up in the German army for the First World War (this allows for some good lines about his changing his moustache style and a nice M*A*S*H* reference when he’s wounded and taken to a military hospital), the inter-war years, and then Hitler in power and the Second World War. The art is pretty simple and clear, rarely bothering with much in the way of background detail, but combined with some clever wordplay it’s pretty effective.

I found something to giggle about throughout all the sections, and more than a few that had me guffawing, and the duo make good use of the real, historical Hitler’s (and a number of other leading Nazis’) penchant for superstition (he consults a fortune reader and is horrified to find she predicts a later dictator who will come after him and who will appropriate his moustache – cue a good dig at barking Bob Mugabe) and his well documented eccentric behaviour (which none of those around him dared to question) in real life here is pastiched perfectly as being because of his hipster values and lifestyle (he tells Goering they will have air superiority for the planned invasion of Britain, but he means he will ground the Luftwaffe to reduce their carbon footprint and pollution, thus ensuring their air is ‘superior’, he likes the idea of a tripartite pact between him, Italy and Japan because it makes “a perfec triangle. Silly, but no sillier than some of the other beliefs of the real Nazi heirarchy). The rest of his rogues’ gallery of henchmen (and women – Leni Reifensthal and Eva get a look in too) are present – Goebbels, Goering, Himmler et al) and we also get a nice line in who’s the coolest dictator between Hipster Hitler and his one-time friend, a very party-on Stalin.

I’m sure some will object and claim this is bad taste, but I can’t agree with that at all. I probably came well primed to appreciate this – it’s a period of history I know well, and I was also geared to comedy lampooning of the characters and events of that period, as the late, great Spike Milligan’s war memoirs (beginning with the brilliantly titles Adolf Hitler: My Part In His Downfall), read way back in my teens, had me well prepared. Personally I don’t find this in bad taste, nor do I think it cheapens or lightens awful events and indeed hideous crimes against humanity, it does instead what good cartooning often does, takes the very serious and lampoons it mercilessly, along the way taking a vile real character and reducing them to utter ridicule, and that’s something satirists were doing actually during the war itself to bolster morale (and even before the war – consider Chaplain’s remarkable The Great Dictator) and afterwards – again think of British comedy genius Milligan (who noted in one volume of his war memoirs that he was convinced our sense of humour about it all was a major part of why we eventually won, it kept us going) or the great Mel Brooks who has delighted in any chance in his comedy career to ridicule the Third Reich. Hipster Hitler does what any good satire does, it takes some of the real aspects of the events and characters, then gleefully distorts them to ridiculous levels for comedy gold. And along the way it takes a vile, hideous dictator and mass murderer and through cartooning and comedy exposes the pathetic little man he actually was, inviting us all to laugh at him.

This review was originally penned for the Forbidden Planet blog

Absalom

Posted on September 30, 2012 by Joe

Another review I recently penned for the Forbidden Planet blog:

Absalom : Ghosts of London

Gordon Rennie and Tiernen Trevallion

2000 AD/Rebellion

Meet Detective Inspector Harry Absalom; Inspector Morse he isn’t. Old Harry is a bitter, tough as old boots copper with a very special beat – the supernatural and demonic and the bloody odd (with an emphasis on ‘bloody’). This isn’t some sort of X-Files inspired law enforcement agents deal with bizarre cases though, oh no. Harry’s department is above even the Special Branch or the anti-terrorism units; the people he answers to are the people, as he so charmingly puts it, that even the senior politicians and civil servants pee themselves in fear when they hear their names. This is a Britain a little different from the one we know, following the capture of a real, live demon in the 16th century, a deal is struck between the throne and Hell, which, as was the fashion for treaties of those days, was cemented by inter-marriage – several of the noble houses of Albion and the infernal regions have inter-married and inter-bred to increase their family power and influence. You think the Old Boy network is bad for hidden influence and string pulling to direct affairs of state? Imagine when many of those old boys are ancient half-human, half-demonic creatures of huge power.

Some are well-behaved, at least in public, and seem human, others are simply a Hellish mess, inhuman and uncontrollable, locked away in a secure countryside facility, others sometimes push their influence further than is allowed. And then in comes Harry, the copper charged with policing The Accord and quite delighted if that involves smashing the face of some part demonic upper class ponce. Joined by a newly transferred officer, Jemima Hopkins, we follow Harry on a series of increasingly desperate events, from small scale (mind reading tricks by low life to steal PIN numbers, a new angle on identity and credit card theft) to escaped demonic inmates from the rural facility, right through to a fracturing of history that sees pivotal scenes from the history of London spilling into the present – pursuing a villain down a street they find themselves in the middle of the Great Fire, severed heads are found in the Thames, but rather than a single murder there are thousands, and all Roman, those killed by Boudica…

It’s a world populated by grotesques where nothing is quite as it seems (Harry himself has a hidden past involving something bad happening to his family and a cancer eating at his body while a diseased doppelganger taunts him, unknown to his team), Jemima, the up and coming high-flyer has her own secrets and those who oversee and direct the team also have their own agenda. The art by new talent Tiernen Trevallion is superb and stylish, perfectly suited to the mood of Gordon Rennie’s series, while Rennie not only turns in a cracking set of tales and neatly builds up interest in the characters, he develops a feeling of far more going on behind the scenes, waiting to be explained in later tales, while also delighting in lashing out plenty of cynical, deeply sarcastic dark humour, gleefully taking swipes at pop culture and class issues. For me Absalom falls somewhere between its brilliant 2000 AD stablemate Stickleback and Mignola’s Hellboy, and believe me that is high praise. More of this, please.

The Tale of Brin & Bent & Minno Marylebone

Posted on September 28, 2012 by Joe

I originally posted this review on the Forbidden Planet blog:

The Tale of Brin & Bent & Minno Marylebone

Ravi Thornton and Andy Hixon

Jonathan Cape

The Tale of Brin & Bent & Minno Marylebone is a hard book to review – not because is disturbing (it is, though), nor because it hard to follow the narrative (it isn’t), but because, although there is a narrative structure here, Ravi’s ravishing words and Andy’s lusciously menacing artwork creates a comic that is more a sensory experience, viewed filtered through the flittering gauze of a dreamworld, than it is simple, linear narrative.

Ostensibly it is the tale of a pair of lost souls, Brin and Bent, different, disturbed, depraved, with inclinations they know mark them out from what is acceptable in society. Trying to control their appetites they meet each other as they look for work, and at first, odd and as off-putting as their shared lifestyle may be, it seems at least they have found what they need in each other, in a shared darkness and depravity (it’s not for the faint-minded or prudish). But when our dark couple get employment at The House For the Grossly Infirm they can’t curb their desires completely, and they are soon enjoying spying on the mentally impaired residents and abusing them in little ways (too much chlorine in the swimming therapy pool), always in ways hidden from the eyes of authority, which in any case, it is clear, cares little for its vulnerable charges, so long as at least a veneer of protocol and respectability is kept.

And it is into this bizarre, depraved, dark sanctum of condemned souls (both the patient inmates and Brin and Bent fall into that description) that a young girl, Minno, enters. Well-named, her name conjures up images of small, darting fish at play in a pond or local river, and this suits this strange, mostly silent child. She crosses the skeletons of homes that never were, an abandoned housing estate, partly built then left (as much a symbol for the decay of the urban dream and fragility of life as it is of the current economy), walking in the dark, lit only by a solitary candle in the night, entering the grounds of the grim, bleak House to sneak in by the rear entrance to the swimming pool, which stands in total contrast to the almost Stalinist era brutal architecture of the main House, being a glorious confection of steel and glass, a miniature Crystal Palace. And to this place comes Minno, secretly, silently, every night, descending into the night-time pool, which is more than a pool to her; the sides of the swimming pool recede and she is adrift in a deep, dark ocean, sinking into a world of wonders, where the darkness is replaced by the glowing light of life. It is perfect, it is beautiful. And you know it is going to be interrupted when Brinn and Bent finally find out about their quiet, nocturnal visitor.

What happens when they find here, I won’t go into, save to say what could have been even more disturbing, upsetting, will move in a very different direction from what you may expect, and the lives of all three will change. How much of this is ‘real’ (a relative term since we are talking about fiction, but you know what I mean) and how much of it is a dream, a fantasy? How much of what we see of Brin and Bent’s shared depravity is really acted out, how much is in their confused heads that aren’t quite wired to socialise and empathise the way they should (and which in some dim way they realise this deficiency and it infuriates them, but they don’t know what they lack, let alone how to obtain it, substituting other, less savoury appetites to fill that needy hunger in its place). How real is this mysterious girl who walks across ruins at night to enter a dream-like glass architecture of a pool that is more than a pool? Even is she is real is how she sees the water real, is she some more-than-human being with expanded perceptions or simply a little girl with a huge imagination who has found her own secret playground?

It really doesn’t matter and frankly I wouldn’t advise questioning it too closely – as I said at the start, this is a graphic novel of experiences, some contrary and confusing, because it is swimming through a dream, and dream logic (albeit perhaps predicated on some real world dark experiences) is the king here. Andy’s artwork is superb – I knew as soon as I first saw the cover that this was going to be a book I wanted to read (and I was delighted that the pair of them agreed to talk to us about the book in a Director’s Commentary guest post – see here). As regular readers know I am a huge animation fan, and one of my favourites is the dark, odd, often disconcerting worlds conjured by the Brothers Quay, and Andy’s artwork reminded me of the Brothers Quay via Dave McKean, deftly weaving a dreamscape that is both nightmarish and disturbing like a David Lynch film and yet also contains some beautifully, magical, light-filled moments. Mostly avoiding the usual flow of comic book panels and speech bubbles, being more like an illustrated text in some places, Ravi’s words accompany this art in perfect partnership, not just her narrative, but an elegant, flowing series of dialogue boxes that guide us through this hidden, nocturnal realm and its lives.

Certainly it is not for everyone, but for me it was a remarkably unusual, fascinating work – it would make a great companion on your shelves to McKean’s Cages and Laurie J Proud’s Peepholes, perhaps, for those of us who often walk the lost highways at night and appreciate the reports of fellow travellers from that odd, sometimes scary, sometimes enchanting country.

Edinburgh Book Festival: Grant Morrison

Posted on September 25, 2012 by Joe

Third and final of the reports I penned on the comics related events at the Edinburgh International Book Festival in August for the Forbidden Planet blog:

Top comics scribe Grant Morrison returned to the Edinburgh International Book Festival for his second visit following his very successful Book Fest gig last year and again it was an absolutely packed late-night audience. Grant seemed pretty happy to be back and was in very good form, obviously delighting in getting the opportunity to talk directly with some of his readers. Much of the discussion centred around Supergods, his very interesting book which combines a short history of the American superhero comics with autobiographical elements from his own life as a reader and a writer (just out in paperback from Cape).

(Grant Morrison at the Edinburgh International Book Festival, pic from my Flickr, click for larger version)

Grant told us that the book originally started as something quite different, but the publishers liked what he had written on the history side of comics and the personal angle, asked him for more of that and the book we now have started to take shape over many months. A history of comics he had been reading all his life as well as writing for decades, how hard could that be, he said, smiling – no need to do a lot of research, know most of that already… And you can guess what’s coming – the more he expanded on chapters on different periods the more he realised he had to mention (can’t miss that comic, that artist…), entailing more words, more research. In fact he said that the finished book represented roughly half of what he had, after much editing, there could have been a lot more and it could have been a different read, although better or not is hard to say, but it gives you an idea of the amount of work he had to put into it. And bear in mind this work was running parallel with his regular comics writing duties, including, of course, some pretty major flagship DC titles. Asked how he managed to juggle these various competing deadlines he smiled and answered a lot of very late nights.

(forthcoming Happy by Grant Morrison and Darick Robertson, published Image Comics)

Discussion ranged from his childhood comics favourites (like Sheldon Cooper The Flash remains one of his all-time favourites, especially some of the great Carmine Infantino work – can’t blame him for that) through working in his own experiences, such as his world-travelling, into his work, the difference between working on creator-owned material (including his new Image title with Darick Robertson, Happy – which, as he explained, means no money up front for the creators until the work is out there and selling) and future projects. One audience member reminded him that last summer at the Book Fest he mentioned he had been trying to figure out a new approach to Wonder Woman, inspired by the inherit sexuality she had when her original creator William Moulton Martson gave her comics life; he was of the opinion that she lost something after that which the character required and he’s confident that he’s found a way to tap into that sexual identity element without being exploitative. Alas, although at the previous Book Fest he said he hoped to have that by next year (now this year), with all his various projects it has slipped back a bit and is likely to be next year now, but he is writing away on it, you’ll be pleased to hear.

(Grant singing for a very, very long line of appreciative fans)

Having managed to get my copy of Supergods signed last year I decided not to wait in the very long line after the event. Last year it was the best part of an hour for me to get to the front and I was not that far back in the line; Grant mentioned that the line was so long last summer that he ended up signing away until 2am (the talk had finished at 10.30pm!), so I do hope he didn’t have to stay quite as long this time! But he does seem to very much enjoy getting to not just sign the books but getting the chance to chat for a few minutes to each of his readers, which I’m sure they all appreciated. Another good comics event at the Book Festival, and there’s more to come this Friday with Bryan Talbot paying a return visit, this time with his wife and collaborator Mary, which I’m very much looking forward to.

Mary and Bryan Talbot at the Edinburgh Book Festival

Posted on September 23, 2012 by Joe

Forgot to re-post my reports from this August’s biggest literary festival, the Edinburgh International Book Festival, on here, so starting them off now (originally penned for the Forbidden Planet blog):

Friday 24th of August, and as the world’s largest literary bash, the Edinburgh International Book Festival, entered its final weekend for this year I headed in once more to the delightful environs of the New Town’s splendid Georgian jewel, Charlotte Square for my last event of the 2012 Book Fest, a double header event, in fact; unusually, it’s a husband and wife event which saw one of our most respected comics creators, Bryan Talbot, with his wife and now literary collaborator Mary, in conversation with literary editor for Scotland on Sunday and various other publications (and major comics fan) Stuart Kelly.

(Bryan and Mary Talbot talking to Stuart Kelly at the Edinburgh International Book Festival, pic from my Flickr, click for the larger version)

Much of the discussion centred around Mary and Bryan’s first literary collaboration together, the fascinating and frequently moving Dotter of Her Father’s Eyes (published this year by Jonathan Cape), an intertwined double strand of biographical tales of two daughters, one being Lucia, daughter of celebrated icon of Modernist writing, James Joyce, the other being Mary herself, as a young girl, daughter of one of the pre-eminent Joycean scholars of his age (his work, I believe, is still, decades on, hugely influential and respected in that very rarefied field of Joycean scholarship). Having retired early from her academic work (where Mary has authored notable works) the couple had discussed a possible collaboration between them on a new book. Something autobiographical sprang to mind, but as Mary commented modestly, she didn’t originally see her own story as being of particular interest to begin with. But on learning more about the life of Lucia Joyce and her relationship with her writer father she started to see an angle that would allow her to tell some of her own relationship with her father, the Joycean scholar, interwoven with that of Lucia.

There’s a feminist angle to the work, unsurprisingly given Mary’s academic background, and in the eras covering both women’s younger lives it isn’t just the relationship with their fathers which are under the lens, but the social expectations placed squarely on women by societal norms of the time, how they were expected to behave, the limits on what they could be ‘allowed’ to do in ‘decent’ society. While our own contemporary society is far from perfect in terms of gender equality (as Mary noted at one point we’re in a sort of post-feminist period where technically in law women have that full equality they fought for, except of course we know in many fields they still don’t truly have anything like equality or parity), it is still quite shocking to modern sensibilities to see how Lucia’s desires for her own life and her burgeoning career as a dancer and stage costume designer would be so curtailed (all the more shocking when one considers Joyce telling his daughter off for this ‘inappropriate’ behaviour, you’d expect a pioneer of Modernist art, in the Bohemian Paris of the 20s, to be more open minded).

When they came to discuss how they actually approached the collaborative process, Bryan noted that he’s collaborated many times with writers over his career, but this was a particularly unusual creative partnership. As he said, usually if you are illustrating someone else’s words, then you receive a script, usually with some directions, and you do your best to visualise the panels and the layout to bring that written script to comics life. Sometimes, depending on the writer you’re working with, such as, for instance, Pat Mills or Neil Gaiman, it may also involve some long chats over the phone to thrash out more ideas and suggestions, to develop the work. However, in this case, being husband and wife they see each other every day and throughout that day, so suggestions could go back and forth between both of them constantly, they could talk about the book over dinner and so on. Mary is an experienced writer, of course, but not in the field of comics work, and while she worked on the script Bryan made some suggestions and he handled things like layout and scene transitions in addition to actually illustrating Dotter. That said, Bryan was quick to credit his wife, commenting that although they talked constantly about the project, Mary worked on the script herself for the most part, some suggestions and chat aside, and he didn’t actually see any of the script until she finished.

(Bryan and Mary signing after their talk at the Edinburgh Book Festival, pic from my Flickr)

He worked on the illustrations and layouts, sometimes with Mary having a peek over his shoulder, he joked, and when Mary saw some finished pages she realised he had made a mistake. For instance she said that her primary school segregated the girls from the boys, one group on one side, one group on the other side of the room, but Bryan had depicted a classroom of the era mixed, as his own had been. Rather than redraw this, they added a note from Mary saying oh, silly husband got this bit wrong! And they found they quite liked this little personal corrective note, and so did friends they showed it too, so they ended up using this device in several spots in the book. One particular, extremely memorable image (certainly one which has remained in my mind since reading the book back in January), depicts Lucia during a period of confinement, in the centre of the page but in multiple poses as she might be in her dancing career, except instead of the balletic grace of the elegant dancer this is a desperate dance of madness, her trained body now contorted not for art but in pain, her upper body wrapped not in one of her own beautiful designs but in a straight-jacket. The image had come in a dream, Mary explained, and when she told Bryan about it he crafted a page to depict that dream in an impressive piece of art.

(Lucia confined, from Dotter of Her Father’s Eyes by and (c) Mary and Bryan Talbot, published Cape)

Upcoming projects were also touched upon: Mary is now working with veteran cartoonist Kate Charlesworth on a new historical comic work, using a working woman who slowly becomes involved in the Suffragette movement, which again I believe is likely to be coming from Cape and which sounds very interesting (hopefully we’ll be able to entice Mary to return to guest blog on that further down the line as she did for Dotter earlier this year), and she mentioned that she had learned a good deal from Bryan about how to structure and pace a narrative for comics which she is using in this new endeavour. Bryan is just finishing off the last couple of pages for the third Grandville album, Bete Noire (due this December from Cape in the UK and Dark Horse in North America), before they both enjoy a nice break, and Bryan was kind enough after the event to let some of us leaf through some pages from the new book he had loaded onto his iPad – you will not be surprised to hear it is again an utterly gorgeous looking, lavishly illustrated Steampunk world that looks glorious, and I’m looking forward to reading the finished book this winter. Bryan also mentioned that he has a fourth Grandville, Noël, full scripted now, with a fifth in the series roughly plotted out, at which point it may be on to pastures new. It was a very interesting event and I’m very much looking forward to the new (and very different) works from both Mary and Bryan, and of course we’ll try to bring you more on those books a bit further down the line. Meantime I’d certainly commend Dotter of Her Father’s Eyes to add to your reading list.

Hi-ex – comics fun in Inverness

Posted on April 5, 2012 by Joe

My report and pics on the fourth Hi-Ex comic convention in the capital of the Scottish Highlands, Inverness, originally penned for the Forbidden Planet blog:

It’s the final day of March, Scotland has been enjoying a wonderful week of warm, bright, spring weather (yes, really, it has been known to happen from time to time) and today on this sunny Saturday the capital of the Scottish Highlands, Inverness, is basking in golden sunlight as the crowds head to the splendid Eden Court arts centre once more for comics fun. With theatres, cinema, bar, café, function spaces and more it’s proved to be a cracking venue for the first three Hi-Ex comic cons and this, the fourth con (following a hiatus last year), is no exception. I already find myself chatting to comics fans making their way up from the lowland cities of Glasgow and Edinburgh on the train northwards and on arriving at Inverness, after a brief walk along the river bank to Eden Court, I can see cosplayers, fans with goodie bags and, of course, some of the Star Wars 501st contingent who have been at Hi-Ex right since the first year, enjoying the bright day outside even before we set foot into the con proper.

Checking in and donning my badge I meet Richmond Clements, fan , writer and co-founder and organiser of Hi-Ex, in his trademark con rig-out of a pristine white three-piece suit. Debate still continues in geek circles if this suit signifies he is the modern incarnation of Colonel Sanders or if he is cosplaying as Marty Hopkirk (Deceased). Naturally Rich prefers the Hopkirk option. He is harassed but happy on the first day of Hi-Ex’s weekend, already a busy morning of events, talks and workshops gone by before I arrive on the iron horse (on top of months and months of preparation and organisation, all done by the team while trying to hold down their day jobs – big hand to con organisers here and everywhere for all the work they put in to make events happen so we enjoy them without ever seeing the effort put in behind the scenes). Before embarking on my con going proper it seems to be my humanitarian duty to relieve some of his stress with a quick drink while I look over the programme and, as luck would have, it as we relax for a few minutes we meet comic creator Andy Luke, over from Northern Ireland, and he joins us, the first time I’ve gotten to meet Andy in person for a change, so my visit is off to a nice start right away.

(Richmond Clements in his famous white suit grabs a rare few moments of peace inbetween making sure Hi-Ex runs smoothly for the fans and the creators present; pics from my Flickr)

In fact there is a bit of an Irish-Scottish, cross-Celtic comics theme to this year’s Hi-Ex, as other guests include Paddy Brown and one of our own guest bloggers, Maura McHugh, among others. Suitably refreshed I am thinking about entering the main hall as a number of young women in padding, helmets and rollerskates scoot past frequently (the roller derby girls are in town, a fun female dominated sport that artist Gary Erskine is a big fan of, noting that their appearance reminds him simultaneously of the movie Rollerball (and old Brit boy’s comic knock-off Spinball) and Tank Girl, and he’s right), but on realising I have arrived just in time to take in one of the panels, a discussion about British and Irish comics, I decide to hit that first and head into the theatre.

Several guests are on the stage as I take one of the very comfortable seats, including long time Brit comics editor and the man behind the fine Brit comics blog Down The Tubes John Freeman, Dave Shelton, Patrick Brown and Maura McHugh. The hour-long discussion proves pretty interesting, taking in both the established mainstream in Brit comics, such as 2000 AD, the new, with the Freeman-edited Strip Magazine and Phoenix comic (very new but already established as a firm favourite with our own daddy-daughter team of Richard and Molly, as regular readers will know) and the vibrant small press and self published scene in the UK. There was some discussion about the rich and talented pool of creators who earned their first spurs in the UK small press scene, such as in anthologies like FutureQuake, although debate as to whether the mainstream was taking advantage of that pool by encouraging it and drawing on it, giving its creators some chances to hone their craft more in a professionally edited publication, was less certain.

(panel discussion on British and Irish comics)

The requirement of creative talent to publicise their work was touched upon, with various members of the panel, notably Maura McHugh, pointing out that even if a writer or artist is shy they have to realise that promoting their work, be it self published or professional, is now very much part of their job description, something I agree with, having had similar discussions with authors even before the days of social media concerning the importance of book tours, talks and signing sessions – some authors take to that aspect of publishing well, others loathe having to stand up in front of readers to do a reading and signing, I know, but it is indeed part of the publishing process. And today it is inescapable with social media – a writer or artist needs, as Maura noted, a Facebook page at the very bare minimum. But ideally Twitter and a blog to share news of new work, upcoming signing tours and basically have a web presence where their readers can find out more and preferably interact with them a little too.

The importance of third party web coverage was covered too – as John Freeman noted his Down The Tubes, Steve Holland’s Bear Alley and Lew Stringer’s Blimey It’s Another Blog About Comics have been trying to cover specifically British comics news for some years (all sites you should have bookmarked), Maura and Paddy pointed out that the recent Irish Comics News has rapidly become something of a nexus point for bringing together news and links to Irish events, new releases and creators. As John said though, most of these sites were run by their editors on the side of a full time job and couldn’t give the levels of coverage sites like CBR, for instance, give in the US, but for predominantly American comics, and how the UK scene perhaps needs something a bit more like that large site. I was also rather cheered when Maura was kind enough to give our own FP blog a glowing mention as one not just looking at Brit comics but with a solid rep for covering that beat, notably the Indy creators (take a bow here, most especially, out reviewing powerhouse Richard for all his reviews coverage of the Brit small press scene).

After the panel I head into the main auditorium where the creators and the sellers have their tables, spotting Scotty, screenwriter from the excellent independent Scottish comics-themed movie Electric Man (reviewed here last year). The guys are still working on trying to secure distribution for the film (a separate battle after the usual battle to get funding for an Indy movie) and meantime are pretty much doing it themselves, with Mark Millar giving them a slot in his comics movie strand at the recent Glasgow Film Festival last month, a screening in Edinburgh’s lovely Art Deco Cameo Cinema next month and a couple of screenings in Eden Court itself over the weekend of Hi-Ex.

(above:the main auditorium with the creators and the dealer’s tables, below: Scotty, screen writer of the excellent Electric Man indy Scottish comics film)

Circulating round I am, like my last visit, finding that moving most of the comics folks through to this large auditorium and leaving the adjoining Bishop’s Palace for the gamer folk is working pretty well, affording everyone plenty of space and light but keeping them all together and handily adjacent for the theatre where the events take place and, equally, if not even more importantly, the cafe-bar (where again kudos to Eden Court’s good wifi). Continuing round I find a whole bunch of other creators, including Gary Erskine, Graeme Neil Reid (complete with some cracking sketches on offer and a new Sketchbook), Dave Shelton returned from panel duties to his table, Will Pickering returned once more, Alex Moore, John Higgins and Colin MacNeil among others, all busy with sketching and with their own work on offer; Gary has cornered the sideline in portraits of the Roller Derby girls. There’s an impressive Predator walking around, and several more cosplayers, including a terrific Harley Quinn.

(above: Graeme Neil Reid sketching, below: a fine selection of French comics at the Cinebook stand)

Bumping into John Freeman and Maura McHugh we head for caffeine stimulation; although I have known John for years, remarkably this is only the first time we have met in person, also the first time I have had the pleasure of meeting Maura in the flesh, always one of the nicer aspects of cons, getting to spend some time with folks in person. John shows us a very cool app on his smartphone with some comics work from Strip, enhanced so that you can have the speech bubbles read out – in a variety of languages, he adds, which is pretty cool, especially if you are trying to also sell your comics work to other language markets, or indeed also quite handy if you are learning a language. Time also for a quick log in on the notebook to post up a couple of photos and do a bit of Hi-Ex tweeting, before Maura has to attend another panel – this one is on Scots and Irish culture and language and their possible place in comics, so I decide to delay a second tour around the artists and dealer’s table to listen to the panel.

(above: quick break with Maura McHugh and John Freeman, who was showing us a very cool digital comics app, below, comics get academic with Dundee’s Dr Chris Murray in his splendid shirt: )

Despite Jim’s problems with the microphone (unconvinced it is carrying his voice as he can’t hear it as we can in the audience he keeps leaning into it causing ‘pops’, a pretty minor problem though), this panel with Jim Alexander, Maura, Paddy Brown, Lynsey and Colin MacNeil proves to be quite interesting, discussing the shared Celtic culture and how comics have contributed to it and how they could possibly be used in promoting, for instance, the languages such as the Gaelic, or BroadScots. Lynsey has worked in animation and comics with a Scots Gaelic theme and Paddy and Maura bring up good examples of work from Ireland either in Irish Gaelic or drawing on the rich heritage of myth and folklore and the general Scots-Irish love of storytelling in our culture. The use of the medium to support and encourage the Gaelic and Scots languages was discussed, as well as whether they were suitable only for discussing older, mythological or historical topics or if they were appropriate to use for contemporary subjects too (I pointed out afterwards that actually Matthew Fitt had written an entire contemporary science fiction novel in BroadScots, so yes, you can use our older words and tongue to apply to modern stories as well). The incredibly rich Celtic heritage of storytelling was also discussed (let’s be honest, a very ancient tradition and even in book terms the cross Scots-Irish tradition of words and pictures goes back to the magnificent Book of Kells, one of the literary treasures of the world). As someone who loves not only comics but the deep store of folklore and myth all cultures are heir to I found it rather pleasing to have creators contemplating how the comics medium could and did interact with that, especially in relation to Scotland and Ireland.

That final panel over-ran somewhat after the preceding one finished late and sadly by the time it ended I found myself too late for a second turn around the main auditorium, so missed out on the chance to pick up some mini comics I had my eye on before as everyone was packing up for the evening (although they still had the evening’s screening of Electric Man to look forward to after dinner). But that’s a problem with convention going, be it comics, science fiction or any other type, you simply can’t be everywhere all the time so you’re going to miss something. The last couple of visits I spent more time in the main hall but missed some panels, this time round I took in more panels but that meant less time to spend in the hall going round folk as much as I would have liked, but that’s how it goes. Last time around I did more live blogging, tweeting and photo posting than this time, but again as I spent half my time in panels that wasn’t feasible and I decided to settle for a few on the day and then let myself just concentrate on taking in the actual con rather than trying to mediate it onto the web in real time (bit of live tweeting is fine, but note to self, raise nose from keyboard to take in those folks around you that you only see every so often and enjoy it!).

(Above: Team Girl Comic with some fan small press anthologies, below: Gary Erskine at work)

(above: artist John Higgins starts a new work; more pics on my Flickr here)

My third Hi-Ex visit and another absolute pleasure – busy though it is the smaller scale than some events further south makes it very accessible, very friendly and personal, again it drew a lot of kids – my first impressions of the very first Hi-Ex four years ago remained, that it was a very family friendly event, with grinning kids in face make-up, cosplay costumes or happy after drawing classes trotting around. The creators and the host all very friendly and welcoming and again, as before, I was left with the feeling that the event was a good cultural one for the Highlands, not just for comics geeks, but in general, drawing in more than just the die-hard fans to check out the events. Yes, it may be a long haul for some, especially those down in the south (although to be fair no longer a haul than those of us in the north go through to reach Bristol’s comic expo!), but it is worth it for what has now established itself as a solid fixture on the calendar, the northernmost comics con in our sceptred isles, taking its place alongside other regular and much loved events like Thought Bubble, and hey, long trip up or not, it also takes you through some of the most magnificent scenery the United Kingdom has to offer. I saw pheasant and deer by the side of the rails, snow still dappled spring-time hills and mountains as we entered the Cairngorms National Park, while the trip back home offered a spectacular sunset as our local star dipped behind the western mountains of the Scottish Highlands, casting them into shadow while the sky above glowed a deep blue, splashed with vermilion. Even the trip to and from Hi-Ex can be terrific. Here’s to next year!

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Tag Archives: graphic novels

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May 2013
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