It's Not the Size of the World You Build, It's How You Use It

Final Crisis 6 came out this week, and it feels as though it's slipping back into the same concerns I had when the series started. There's so much going on, so many storylines each getting a page at a time before they disappear and perhaps reappear for one more page this issue, that it's not pleasurable to read. I applaud Morrison for his ambition, but he's so built up in telling this complex story of interwoven events and their effect on the world that the small stories, the little pieces of life that make a tale worth reading, end up getting lost.

The apocalyptic world-changing events going on in Final Crisis are most interesting to me when they're shown in-depth through the eyes of the characters experiencing them, as in some of the tie-in books DC's put out. Some of which Morrison wrote, including one-shots like “Resist” and “Submit”, others including Geoff Johns' Rogues Revenge and Greg Rucka's Revelations. I'm not saying these books have floored me, but I am saying I enjoyed them more than the central title, which I have to feel is not the goal DC is setting when it puts these books out. Same for Marvel's last two big events, Civil War and Secret Invasion. The tie-ins running in Marvel's regular books always had more time to focus on the issues the event was created to focus on but never had the time to discuss because it's throwing information at you the entire time. It's like reading Final Crisis or Secret Invasion is akin to reading about the history of World War II in a chapter in a high school history textbook, whereas the tie-ins are like watching Band of Brothers or reading Catch-22 (these are generous comparisons not meant to actually compare on quality, merely on scope of story). You need the background in the first to appreciate the second, but there's no way you can actually get a deep, interesting story from the textbook.

This'll be cross-posted over at www.holdreset.com, which will get a real update before the end of the month. I swear.

Your Vagina is Haunted.

Chris Sims reviews what could be the most terrible comic ever written, Tarot #53, but, as he says:

"And yet, it is beautiful in its purity. It is, in two sentences, everything that Tarot: Witch of the Black Rose is about. It’s why I read the book. Because every now and then, it gets so bad, so unrelentingly stupid, that is somehow loops back around to become brilliant for eleven words.

You have to get out of here. Your vagina is haunted.

Amazing."

Lunchtime Reading, part 3

Uncanny X-Men: I've always wanted to like the X-Men more than I've actually liked them. Social awareness interwoven with costumed melodrama has a certain appeal to it. It's a shame that I came in during the hologrammed angst-fest that was the 90s. I've been meaning to approach the classics for a while (and of course Morrison's run), but haven't gotten around to them. I enjoyed bits and pieces of the Endangered Species backups, but Messiah CompleX failed to hold my attention.

All this is leading to say again that I love golden boy Fraction and really wanted to be excited by the new direction. 500 came. Sentinels and Magneto. However the issue was dressed up, it didn't bring anything new to the table. 501. They're excited to be somewhere new, but people still don't like them. Ho hum. Also, they have a lot of money and nice stuff. Sigh.

For the record, here's what I want to see in the San Franciscan X-Men: X-Men are welcomed into the city. They declare their new home a mutant haven. Mutants from across the globe endure great stresses trying to reach them. This causes clashes with those that hunt them (justly or unjustly) including foreign governments and federal agencies. They're welcomed, but infighting occurs quickly. Not everyone can be saved. Clashes break out and, because these are mutants, the scale of the destruction affects San Francisco. The city is concerned they can't control themselves. And they can't. Hmm... Maybe I do miss the angst-fest.

Astonishing X-Men: Normally, I don't complain about artwork, but Bianchi isn't doing it for me. The figures are fine, but in issue 1, the new X-base (whatever it's called) seems more like something out of a high tech science fiction story set thousands of years in the future. The spaceship graveyard and the scavengers living off it is the kind of brilliantly aware idea that should be fueling superhero universes (of course world governments need a place to abandon downed alien crafts and of course impoverished people will be living off the scraps). The characters, despite Ellis's best efforts, do still sound like an Ellis characters.

Wolverine: Fun. Superhero western. Old, pacifist Wolverine (and blind Hawkeye) travel across a future wasteland shipping mysterious cargo. Descendants of the Hulk rule as hick land barons. Superhero cults survive where superheroes failed. But as I believe Dave said, "Millar's great as long as you can keep him away from fight scenes."

Fantastic Four: Uh... I don't really have anything to say here. Millar continues to be ridiculous and bring a good time. I've never read much FF4, but I'm digging it.

Kick Ass: While we're talking about Millar... this is doing what it sets out to do really well. Better than I expected. Kid decides to be a superhero. Gets hurt horrifically and repeatedly, but attracts a cult following. It's not great, but there's something really satisfying about it. Perhaps, the horrible satisfaction in watching someone fail and the genuineness of that failure making their endurance that much more sweet. I still don't know if this book can keep it up. The follow through seems doomed to fall short of the setup. I'll keep reading to find out, though.

Batman: Gotham After Midnight: I'm very much a writer's reader. I have a vast appreciation for inventive artwork (even more than for skillful artwork), but I'm usually more impressed by words than pictures. This, however, would thrill me if I ignored the words. OK, maybe it thrills me more when I ignore the words. The haunting cobblestone streets of Gotham, full of shadowy criminals and a horror-movie Batman. Beautiful.

Femme Noir: There's more Will Eisner in this book than in The Spirit these days. Pulpy goodness.

Rasl: I think the story and the art are beautiful, but each issue feels sparse on content. I'll be excited when it's finally collected, but reading it scene by scene over the course of months will just frustrate me.

Lunchtime Reading, part 2

My introduction by way of collected opinions continues!

Invincible Iron Man: A few days ago I would've said, "This book is fair - not amazing, but issue two was fantastic."But now issue two has gone and broken my heart. You see, in it we see a group of Filipino super-heroes taken down by suicide bombers. I was enamored by the concept that of course the rest of the world has its heroes, we just don't usually read about them in our American comics. Even if they we meet them just before they're lost, it felt like it was bucking the usual trend towards Eurocentrism. And the funeral scene following was beautiful.

But then I came across the message boarders (such as here) who point out that the depiction of the Philippines failed to be accurate at any level. And that's sloppy work on both Fraction and Larocca's parts. Sloppy to the point of disrespectful. This is especially disappointing to me coming from Fraction, not only because I have immense respect for his work (Casanova is magic), but because he's known for doing meticulous research (with works like Five Fists of Science) and has mentioned a desire for more diverse voices to be represented in mainstream comics.

So I'm not certain how to feel. The idea behind the scene is at odds with its execution. It's especially disheartening when that idea was the high point of the comic thus far.

Final Crisis: Rogues' Revenge: Phew. Let me mention something I'm digging. Geoff Johns is a writer I never paid much attention to until just very recently. He's working entirely within the bounds of the supers genre (and not pushing the bounds or stepping outside it like Ellis or Morrison or my usual favorites) and producing gems. I realize DC aficionados will wonder why I'm catching on so late, but, like I keep saying, I'm not a huge genre fan and am eager for compelling super hero stories.

Final Crisis #3 Addendum: Finally, something's happening and the disparate stories are starting to point somewhere. I may actually keep reading after this month.

Anna Mercury: Here's the problem I've been having lately with Warren Ellis. He's prolific and writing totally different characters in totally different settings, but somehow I feel like I'm reading a single story.

God, I'm focused on the negative here. I understand why message boards a reduced to such smarmy hate-fests: it's easier to focus on what's wrong than the praise what's working.

So let me try again: There's a lot that's compelling about this book, both in terms of the writing and the art. In fact I kinda wish it were more focused on its pulp roots. The action sequences are enticing and our titular heroine with her vast red tresses is sexy. I like the idea of base control watching over her like an astronaut, but don't really want to hear their story; I just want to follow hers.

Comic Book Comics: Industry history from the Action Philosophers folk. This is especially interesting to read after having just finished The Ten Cent Plague. Where that book glossed entirely over super heroes and was academic in its approach, Comic Book Comics is more than happy to tell Kirby anecdotes in its madcap style. If you're looking for an in depth analysis of those early years, I'd recommend Hajdu's book, but if you're mostly after entertaining juicy bits, this is a lot of fun.

Batman: Morrison has a mad and noble goal with Batman as well as All Star Superman. He's dissecting the characters with the assumption that every issue of backstory happened. He's not rejecting "continuity" or even brushing it under the carpet. This isn't simply a matter of parading out old cast or events, but trying to understand the mind of someone with such an array of experiences. Superman gets presented as someone for whom the extraordinary becomes routine and Batman, well, Batman is more complex and layered than ever.

The narrative has been hard to follow at times. This could be that I'm missing plot on the pages of other bat-books or it could be Morrison's arcane style, but, honestly, it's mostly been engrossing even when I'm completely lost. Well, maybe, those latest RIP issues have been pushing my tolerance for confusion.

Lunchtime Reading, part 1

As a teenager in the 90s, I'd read a small number of hologrammed X-Men comics and followed the death of Superman (then attempted and failed entirely to follow his rebirth), but, despite my well-rounded geekiness, I never thought much about comics. It was 2003 (perhaps) when a friend handed me Watchmen and then Dark Knight Returns. These being heroine of the sequential art form, I was hooked fast. In the ensuing years, I was introduced to other classics like Transmet and Sandman, but, even when I set my sights on writing comics, I was never a Wednesday regular.

One year back, I started working at Midtown Comics' cavernous warehouse and lunchtime gave me unfettered access to new books. If I ate quickly, I found I could read two, sometimes even three issues in a sitting. The simple act of reading comics in issues (rather than trades) was new and startling and it suddenly hit me that this was how most mainstream comics fans did it, consuming snippets of story week by week. Never having been the biggest superhero fan (or as I'm fond of saying these days: I'm very interested in superheroes, just not when they act like superheroes), it took me some time to figure out what I liked amid the sea of titles.

Now, soon to be saying farewell to Midtown, I offer my thoughts on what I'm reading these lunchtimes.

Amazing Spider-Man: As stated, I didn't grow up a fanboy. When I thought about superheroes, I thought about the X-Men or Batman (or perhaps derisively of Superman). I did not think about Spider-Man. When I started at Midtown, One More Day was underway and my co-workers were writing angry letters. I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd been tossing bricks through Quesada's window. They described the story to me and I agreed. It sounded dumb. It sounded like a cop out.

Then I met Dan Slott in a writing class and the man was thoroughly entertaining. He had an obvious passion for the character and it was impossible not to get swept up. So I picked up an issue. And it was fun. The hard reset button on continuity seems like a fine notion to me now, kicking the character back to the basics and keeping it focused and entertaining. I can't remember who asked the question, "When did comics stop being a world you wanted to escape to and become a world you wanted to escape from?" but Amazing with its current team manages to capture that classical sense of wonderment without being cheesy. It hasn't all been gold, but I'll repeat myself: fun.

Screamland: Classic horror movie monster ennui. I'm sold right there, but for the rest of you: Mournful, tragic, and hilarious this beautiful Image book follows the lives (ahem) of Frankenstein's Monster, the Wolfman, Dracula, and the Mummy. Their heydays as movie stars playing themselves are over and now they're wrestling with their dying careers and their own egos. The last issue disappointed, but a trade appears to be slated for October and if the image of a bitter and alcoholic Frankenstein's Monster in therapy provokes a reaction then I heartily recommend.

Secret Invasion: Marvel's summer blockbuster. I'm reading it, but I'll admit I have trouble caring. As Chris said, it's like watching the Marvel universe play a game of mafia. It has a few moments, but the skrull goal of confusing Earth's superheroes succeeds only in confusing me. The fanboys seem very keen on discovering who's a skrull, but I find it artificial and unsatisfying.

But what really amazes is that Marvel sees this as a story to welcome in new readers, to bring in the non-comics superhero fan. I find that goal... misguided. It's playing off several years of continuity and the primary appeal seems to be in watching the payoff of seeds planted long ago. But their sales are strong, so what do I know?

Final Crisis: I love Grant Morrison. I love him mostly for his iconoclasm, but the likes of All Star Superman prove he can work his magic within the mainstream. But I defy anyone with less knowledge of continuity than Morrison to make sense of this book. He's always been a writer better at packing a story with fascinating ideas than coherent narratives, but he should know when to pull back. I want to like it, I really do, but even with the aid of annotations, I fail.