Saturday 22 August 2015
Tuesday 18 August 2015
Non-Fiction Book Review - 'The Very Soil: An Unauthorized Critical Study of Puella Magi Madoka Magica' by Jed A. Blue
A really interesting - if really short - study of 'Puella Magi Madoka Magica' and its spin-off manga titles and movies.
Separated by linear, themed chapters and parts, 'The Very Soil' is immensely clever throughout. Any 'Madoka' fan can learn more, and start a lot of discussions from what's talked about in its pages.
Basically, as well as a feminist analysis and a confident critique on what roles the characters play in the stories, the little book interprets 'Madoka Magica' as ultimately being about depression; from the series' signs focusing on what it humanly means to lose hope as well as to have it. Are there such things as selflessness, selfless love and a perfect world, for example. 'The Very Soil' goes on to connect the anime's dark themes to how life can be born from despair, death and decay, and how life has no meaning, yet still bears fruit (and cheese). But fundamentally it's about people - the characters within the revolutionary magical girl franchise, and the people in its fandom and in everyday living.
Living in whatever (if any) fixed systems of the universe.
'The Very Soil' also makes comparisons to other magical girl shows such as 'Cardcaptor Sakura', 'Sailor Moon' and 'Revolutionary Girl Utena'; and the ways 'Madoka' mirrors, parodies and subverts their elements.
Though 'The Very Soil' could have been organised and packaged better, even for something independently published and unauthorized. Plus it is rather personal and subjectively written. But the author, Jed A. Blue, is a blogger, and I appreciate his efforts. I think each of his critical essays in 'The Very Soil' are worth good marks for any academic course.
Final Score: 4/5
Separated by linear, themed chapters and parts, 'The Very Soil' is immensely clever throughout. Any 'Madoka' fan can learn more, and start a lot of discussions from what's talked about in its pages.
Basically, as well as a feminist analysis and a confident critique on what roles the characters play in the stories, the little book interprets 'Madoka Magica' as ultimately being about depression; from the series' signs focusing on what it humanly means to lose hope as well as to have it. Are there such things as selflessness, selfless love and a perfect world, for example. 'The Very Soil' goes on to connect the anime's dark themes to how life can be born from despair, death and decay, and how life has no meaning, yet still bears fruit (and cheese). But fundamentally it's about people - the characters within the revolutionary magical girl franchise, and the people in its fandom and in everyday living.
Living in whatever (if any) fixed systems of the universe.
'The Very Soil' also makes comparisons to other magical girl shows such as 'Cardcaptor Sakura', 'Sailor Moon' and 'Revolutionary Girl Utena'; and the ways 'Madoka' mirrors, parodies and subverts their elements.
Though 'The Very Soil' could have been organised and packaged better, even for something independently published and unauthorized. Plus it is rather personal and subjectively written. But the author, Jed A. Blue, is a blogger, and I appreciate his efforts. I think each of his critical essays in 'The Very Soil' are worth good marks for any academic course.
Final Score: 4/5
Monday 17 August 2015
Manga Review - 'Attack on Titan, Vol. 1' by Hajime Isayama
2023 EDIT: Part of my (latest) 2023 clear-up, of books (and franchises) I no longer like, or am no longer interested in, or remember well as standing out, or find as special anymore, or I otherwise will not miss.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
I really enjoyed the anime adaptation - I dare anyone to try to forget that first opening theme song - so I thought, "Hey, why not? I'll read the first manga volume sooner or later, even though I don't read much manga anymore."
'Attack on Titan' by Hajime Isayama - from the start, this volume is like the first five episodes of the anime, only more simplistic, and with more foreshadowing.
A great, action-packed and horrifying concept is brought to life by a dystopic setting; and a sense of being trapped by it. There is the foreboding feeling of eventually being hunted and eaten by predators higher up on the food chain of the earth. The feeling like being in a pen, or a birdcage, as the spirited main character Eren Yeager remarks.
Sooner or later, the cage - the hundred-year-old wall humanity desperately built around itself to protect and preserve its race to the end of days - is going to be knocked down, destroyed. Humans are cattle; and will once again fall prey to the enormous, terrifying and mysterious Titans.
The art of this first volume is really good in some places - capturing the characters' fierce emotions by their facial expressions and positions on panels both subtly and passionately. The various designs of the Titans are fantastic - that they look like humans, but don't express any emotion or thought, and are driven only by primal instinct, reflects our own worst fears of ourselves. 'Attack on Titan' literally manifests this fear on a massive scale.
Although in other places the art does look a little amateurish and confusing, more specifically in the fight sequences, and telling apart the characters (some of whom aren't even named here).But it's feasible for its genre and story, and easy on the eyes.
In the anime, Eren's foster sister Mikasa Ackerman is my favourite character. In the manga I wasn't to be disappointed in her portrayal.
I love that she is a subversion of the Emotionless Girl cliché in anime. Mikasa has emotions; she just doesn't express them that often. She cares deeply for others; just not overtly. From her dialogue it is clear she loves Eren and wants to protect him at all costs, and in the context of the story and in view of her tragic past, this is noble rather than silly or foolish for a female character. Mikasa is Eren's knight in shining armour, not the other way round as was once the case when they first met. He inadvertently taught her to always be the predator instead of the prey, and she is forever working to repay her debt to him.
In the manga, you can tell from Mikasa's eyes and facial expressions when danger is afoot that yes, she is scared, terrified even, and momentarily frozen in panic. But she is repressing her screams and outbursts because she knows that will not help her or anyone else in the situation at hand. Mikasa Ackerman may seem mysterious, cold and scary at first, but it is an effort for her to be so. For example, a couple of panels show her clutching her head after seeing her foster mother get eaten by a Titan; perhaps she is suffering desperately from the pressure of trying not to cry like Eren. Mikasa is a fighter; practical through and through. The top of her class and worthy of joining the Survey Corps, who specialise in killing Titans. She is even adorable in her aloofness.
A wonderful, fully human and competent female character in shonen manga, Mikasa is spectacular. Thus ends my gushing about her.
'Attack on Titan, Vol. 1' is dramatic and cool: developing on a colossal scale, resulting in a cliff-hanger that actually works in the long run. It introduces creative ideas, and there is a relative sense of belonging to it and its characters which had helped to give birth to fandoms for franchises such as 'Harry Potter' and 'The Hunger Games'. The narrative is simplistic and rushed for a beginning of an epic series, but the diverse characters are memorable and you want to see more of them.
But mostly I'm here for Mikasa.
Sie sind das Essen und wir sind die jäger!
Final Score: 3.5/5
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
I really enjoyed the anime adaptation - I dare anyone to try to forget that first opening theme song - so I thought, "Hey, why not? I'll read the first manga volume sooner or later, even though I don't read much manga anymore."
'Attack on Titan' by Hajime Isayama - from the start, this volume is like the first five episodes of the anime, only more simplistic, and with more foreshadowing.
A great, action-packed and horrifying concept is brought to life by a dystopic setting; and a sense of being trapped by it. There is the foreboding feeling of eventually being hunted and eaten by predators higher up on the food chain of the earth. The feeling like being in a pen, or a birdcage, as the spirited main character Eren Yeager remarks.
Sooner or later, the cage - the hundred-year-old wall humanity desperately built around itself to protect and preserve its race to the end of days - is going to be knocked down, destroyed. Humans are cattle; and will once again fall prey to the enormous, terrifying and mysterious Titans.
The art of this first volume is really good in some places - capturing the characters' fierce emotions by their facial expressions and positions on panels both subtly and passionately. The various designs of the Titans are fantastic - that they look like humans, but don't express any emotion or thought, and are driven only by primal instinct, reflects our own worst fears of ourselves. 'Attack on Titan' literally manifests this fear on a massive scale.
Although in other places the art does look a little amateurish and confusing, more specifically in the fight sequences, and telling apart the characters (some of whom aren't even named here).But it's feasible for its genre and story, and easy on the eyes.
In the anime, Eren's foster sister Mikasa Ackerman is my favourite character. In the manga I wasn't to be disappointed in her portrayal.
I love that she is a subversion of the Emotionless Girl cliché in anime. Mikasa has emotions; she just doesn't express them that often. She cares deeply for others; just not overtly. From her dialogue it is clear she loves Eren and wants to protect him at all costs, and in the context of the story and in view of her tragic past, this is noble rather than silly or foolish for a female character. Mikasa is Eren's knight in shining armour, not the other way round as was once the case when they first met. He inadvertently taught her to always be the predator instead of the prey, and she is forever working to repay her debt to him.
In the manga, you can tell from Mikasa's eyes and facial expressions when danger is afoot that yes, she is scared, terrified even, and momentarily frozen in panic. But she is repressing her screams and outbursts because she knows that will not help her or anyone else in the situation at hand. Mikasa Ackerman may seem mysterious, cold and scary at first, but it is an effort for her to be so. For example, a couple of panels show her clutching her head after seeing her foster mother get eaten by a Titan; perhaps she is suffering desperately from the pressure of trying not to cry like Eren. Mikasa is a fighter; practical through and through. The top of her class and worthy of joining the Survey Corps, who specialise in killing Titans. She is even adorable in her aloofness.
A wonderful, fully human and competent female character in shonen manga, Mikasa is spectacular. Thus ends my gushing about her.
'Attack on Titan, Vol. 1' is dramatic and cool: developing on a colossal scale, resulting in a cliff-hanger that actually works in the long run. It introduces creative ideas, and there is a relative sense of belonging to it and its characters which had helped to give birth to fandoms for franchises such as 'Harry Potter' and 'The Hunger Games'. The narrative is simplistic and rushed for a beginning of an epic series, but the diverse characters are memorable and you want to see more of them.
But mostly I'm here for Mikasa.
Sie sind das Essen und wir sind die jäger!
Final Score: 3.5/5
Sunday 16 August 2015
Book Review - 'Red Hood's Revenge (Princess, #3)' by Jim C. Hines
While I didn't find 'Red Hood's Revenge' to be as enjoyable as its two previous instalments, it is still very good. Excellent worldbuilding, mythology and history on Arathea, the Arabic-influenced homeland of Princess Talia (Sleeping Beauty). The writing of different perspectives from each of the characters, describing what they are thinking and feeling, is also wonderfully done.
More magical power, more political power, more deceptive and dangerous fae, more fae rules made to be broken, and a lot more revelations about the sleeping curse that was placed on Talia. Her story – as a rape victim, a wanted killer by the royals who engineered the murder of her family, and as a princess of a home taken from her by force - is a tragic one.
Talia is not yet free of her past, or her impending fate. For her fairy tale, like everyone else’s, has no ever after.
'Red Hood's Revenge' starts off simple enough – the child snatcher Rumpelstilzchen gets a vignette. Then it gets rather convoluted and confusing around the middle and end, with too many villains and dark creatures (the political angle doesn't really help matters - fantasy stories are meant to be fun overall).
Red Riding Hood herself - Roudette (great name) - is an awesome character. Little Red as an assassin? Brilliant! She is a stone-cold, remorseless killer who matches Talia in combat skills. As will become clear later this isn't the only thing they have in common. Roudette carries a war hammer, and her red cape protects her from any magic, and when flipped on its wolf skin side it transforms her into a wolf. Genius!
However, she does take a backseat along with the other action princesses Danielle (Cinderella) and Snow (White) during the middle when she joins the main girl group in Arathea, where an overall sinister plan for a fairy takeover has already started. It is war between humans and fairies - and humans with themselves; the same goes for fairies. Deception is everywhere, and the usually distrustful and stoic Talia must find someone familiar, someone who will offer comfort and support to her in her old home.
It is time for her to return to Arathea after eight years, to take on a role as queen and lead an army. But is it an elaborate trap, a hundred years in the making?
Roudette's backstory, as it turns out, isn't that interesting or original, and very little is mentioned of it. But this is Talia's story, paralleled with Roudette’s as it is, and so her history comes first.
Danielle is her usual sweet, saintly and trusting self, who helps out a lot and has some funny lines. Her son Jakob is two now and Queen Beatrice (who barely appears in this book) is dying, so she has an awful lot going on for her in preparation to become the future queen of Lorindar; much like Talia’s situation in Arathea. Danielle has gotten better at diplomacy and leadership, coming a long way from 'The Stepsister Scheme'. She shows promise as a queen in 'Red Hood's Revenge', which is good.
I was a little disappointed with Snow - I was expecting to see more of her dark side, and more consequences of her casting too many spells after the events of 'The Mermaid's Madness'. But the most we get in 'Red Hood's Revenge' are her headaches, the result of a fractured skull inflicted from her previous adventure. Snow is still sassy, flirty, thoughtless and funny; meaning, harmless. Though there’ll likely be more character development and backstory from her in the next instalment, 'The Snow Queen's Shadow'.
As well as a complicated political plot (with sprinklings of creative ideas), I feel there is less sisterly compassion and friendship between the princesses in ‘Red Hood’s Revenge’, given how much of a temper and killing mood everyone is in. However, I really like the relationships Talia has with her old friends in Arathea, including the one with her lover, Faziya. Their passion, distinct personalities, and connection - past and present - are beautifully written. They will clearly die for each other. I can't wait to see how Talia and Faziya will hold up together in the next adventure, especially concerning Talia's feelings for Snow, who is now coming to realise just how much Talia means to her...
There is also surprisingly less action in this instalment than in the last two in the 'Princess' series, and more exposition and travelling around à la ‘The Lord of the Rings’. The positives outweigh the negatives, though, as the character development - especially Talia’s - is organic and flows with the multiple story threads.
Spell-rific, dramatic, diverse and well-thought-out, ‘Red Hood’s Revenge’ is a treat. So long as one’s patient.
All that's left is 'The Snow Queen's Shadow', the fourth and final book in the fantastical fairy tale ‘Princess’ series. I am super excited.
Final Score: 3.5/5
More magical power, more political power, more deceptive and dangerous fae, more fae rules made to be broken, and a lot more revelations about the sleeping curse that was placed on Talia. Her story – as a rape victim, a wanted killer by the royals who engineered the murder of her family, and as a princess of a home taken from her by force - is a tragic one.
Talia is not yet free of her past, or her impending fate. For her fairy tale, like everyone else’s, has no ever after.
'Red Hood's Revenge' starts off simple enough – the child snatcher Rumpelstilzchen gets a vignette. Then it gets rather convoluted and confusing around the middle and end, with too many villains and dark creatures (the political angle doesn't really help matters - fantasy stories are meant to be fun overall).
Red Riding Hood herself - Roudette (great name) - is an awesome character. Little Red as an assassin? Brilliant! She is a stone-cold, remorseless killer who matches Talia in combat skills. As will become clear later this isn't the only thing they have in common. Roudette carries a war hammer, and her red cape protects her from any magic, and when flipped on its wolf skin side it transforms her into a wolf. Genius!
However, she does take a backseat along with the other action princesses Danielle (Cinderella) and Snow (White) during the middle when she joins the main girl group in Arathea, where an overall sinister plan for a fairy takeover has already started. It is war between humans and fairies - and humans with themselves; the same goes for fairies. Deception is everywhere, and the usually distrustful and stoic Talia must find someone familiar, someone who will offer comfort and support to her in her old home.
It is time for her to return to Arathea after eight years, to take on a role as queen and lead an army. But is it an elaborate trap, a hundred years in the making?
Roudette's backstory, as it turns out, isn't that interesting or original, and very little is mentioned of it. But this is Talia's story, paralleled with Roudette’s as it is, and so her history comes first.
Danielle is her usual sweet, saintly and trusting self, who helps out a lot and has some funny lines. Her son Jakob is two now and Queen Beatrice (who barely appears in this book) is dying, so she has an awful lot going on for her in preparation to become the future queen of Lorindar; much like Talia’s situation in Arathea. Danielle has gotten better at diplomacy and leadership, coming a long way from 'The Stepsister Scheme'. She shows promise as a queen in 'Red Hood's Revenge', which is good.
I was a little disappointed with Snow - I was expecting to see more of her dark side, and more consequences of her casting too many spells after the events of 'The Mermaid's Madness'. But the most we get in 'Red Hood's Revenge' are her headaches, the result of a fractured skull inflicted from her previous adventure. Snow is still sassy, flirty, thoughtless and funny; meaning, harmless. Though there’ll likely be more character development and backstory from her in the next instalment, 'The Snow Queen's Shadow'.
As well as a complicated political plot (with sprinklings of creative ideas), I feel there is less sisterly compassion and friendship between the princesses in ‘Red Hood’s Revenge’, given how much of a temper and killing mood everyone is in. However, I really like the relationships Talia has with her old friends in Arathea, including the one with her lover, Faziya. Their passion, distinct personalities, and connection - past and present - are beautifully written. They will clearly die for each other. I can't wait to see how Talia and Faziya will hold up together in the next adventure, especially concerning Talia's feelings for Snow, who is now coming to realise just how much Talia means to her...
There is also surprisingly less action in this instalment than in the last two in the 'Princess' series, and more exposition and travelling around à la ‘The Lord of the Rings’. The positives outweigh the negatives, though, as the character development - especially Talia’s - is organic and flows with the multiple story threads.
Spell-rific, dramatic, diverse and well-thought-out, ‘Red Hood’s Revenge’ is a treat. So long as one’s patient.
All that's left is 'The Snow Queen's Shadow', the fourth and final book in the fantastical fairy tale ‘Princess’ series. I am super excited.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Saturday 15 August 2015
Graphic Novel Review - 'Nimona' by N.D. Stevenson
I thought I wouldn't like this book because I didn't believe the comedy-newspaper-strip art style could sustain a 262-page story.
I was wrong. The art fits ‘Nimona’ terrifically on a subversive level.
It reflects the main theme of the story of 'Nimona'. The theme, in a nutshell, is this: nothing is as simple as it first appears. It begins as a zany and funny comic strip set in an ambiguous world where magic and science coexist, and then it morphs into something more complex, dark and twisted. Parody shifts into deconstruction. Halfway through the graphic novel this becomes more apparent.
‘Nimona’ basically asks this question of its audience: if appearances don't matter, and there is always a complexity and reasoning behind everything, then are there really such things as good and evil? These are just concepts; terms made up to comfort people and simplify an ever-changing, ever-moving, grey-area world inhabited by the billions; with different points-of-view and experiences. They may all think that their individual worldview is the right one, therefore no one really thinks of themselves as evil (meaning, wrong). Unless they're in a silly children's story, perhaps.
The characters in ‘Nimona’ also perfectly demonstrate this. While she's the titular character, Nimona herself is not the protagonist. Her origin and motives are a mystery throughout most of the book. Like the book named after her, her true self gradually reveals itself the more you read on. 'Nimona' is not as simple or childish as appearances suggest; this theme is further illustrated by the fact that Nimona herself is a literal shapeshifter. I'll discuss more about her later, however.
First, let's talk about Ballister Blackheart, the true protagonist of 'Nimona'. The reader follows this supposed villain from beginning to end: we witness his struggles, his confusion over the enigma that is his new sidekick Nimona, his loves and losses, and we understand his frustrations as well as his moral code of no killing; something Nimona doesn't share. It is pretty clear from the start that Ballister is not as evil as everyone within the context of the story perceives - or wants to perceive - him to be, and I absolutely adore him. Despite everything that has happened to him, he cares deeply for others and will attempt to understand (grudgingly in Ambrosius's case) and fix people. The dark-haired, goatee-sporting, mechanical-armed, intelligent, science-loving "baddie" is as selfless as they come.
The Institution of Law Enforcement and Heroics, which acts as the government of the unnamed world of 'Nimona', had manipulated and practically forced Ballister into villainy because every swords and sorcery story needs a villain, a scapegoat (scape-goatee? ha ha). Ballister, whose goal is to expose government corruption and fear mongering, appears to be more sympathetic than the Institution’s - and by definition the story's - designated hero, Ballister's old Institution partner Ambrosius Goldenloin.
Blonde and dashing Ambrosius shows signs of complexity and internal struggles more gradually than Ballister does, including remorse over his actions which had caused his dear friend to become isolated and alone.
Nimona in a way fills that void for Ballister, hence one of the reasons why he grows to love her like an adopted daughter. Reflecting this period of character development, Ambrosius is revealed to be neither as dumb nor as much of a pawn as he first appears. Both men love, and can be loved in return...
The Institution - more specifically the sinister Director - is the puppet master of 'Nimona', controlling the fantasy/science land on a macro-scale and driving apart the relationship between Ballister and Ambrosius on a micro-scale. External struggles and internal, personal power ones combine.
I love that, while not explicit, it is made quite clear that the friendship the two main male characters share is something more. Whether the homosexual prince-type figures live happily ever after depends on each of their present actions, with no more dwelling on past mistakes. It would also be spoilery of me to reveal the outcome of their strong bond, so I'll just leave it at that for now.
Now onto the shapeshifting girl Nimona, who, among other things, turns out to be a catalyst for bringing Ballister and Ambrosius closer together than ever before. She is trigger-happy, funny as heck, and evil. But she is so darn cute while she does bad deeds (such as murder) that the reader - as well as Ballister, the audience's stand-in - can't help but like her, even in a confused way. Nimona's carelessness, evasiveness of Ballister's questions concerning the nature of her powers, and hiding her true strength all add up to a sign of and a prelude to how much of a monster she is. Or isn't, depending on individual reader interpretation.
We get many glimpses of who the real Nimona is on the inside as well as the outside. Is the cute young girl image even her true form, as Ballister speculates at one point? A nature-versus-nurture element plays a small part in 'Nimona' here. And it all comes together towards a heart-stopping, deadly climax.
One concept I would like to study and explore in regards to how Nimona plays her role is: the idea of the morally-ambiguous female, or the anti-heroine, and why there are so little of them to name in popular culture. It is likely that what I am about to interpret was unintentional on the part of the author Noelle Stevenson, but I believe it's worth discussing nevertheless:
I think it is self-evident that many people expect too much from a woman who takes charge and acts outside the norm of a patriarchal society. They put an unfair amount of pressure on her to be perfect all the time - for as part of a "minority" she must represent all women everywhere. Naturally a contradiction surfaces, since no expectations from anyone can be perfect and all women are not the same. The “strong, independent woman” must be good, must be forever right (which is nigh-impossible for any person to achieve), and must not lose her temper or let her feelings show no matter how much she may suffer externally or internally. She is not a person to the privileged higher-ups (mainly, the straight white males who have nothing to prove and don't have to apologise for anything), she's a paragon; and therefore her humanity is completely disregarded should she make even the smallest mistake or controversial choice. This line of thinking can affect women in both real life and in fiction. How many fictional females can you name that are "controversial" simply because they don't fit the traditional feminine form and norm? Because they are assertive? How many instances can you think of where a strong woman gets called out for being "mean", "bossy" or "bitchy" - both in-universe and out - when if a man were in her position and did the exact same things he won't receive as much hostility? Too many examples exist in the media/pop culture spectre where a strong woman is punished simply for being strong. For being human.
As a result of this misogynistic and patriarchal outlook, some - not all - creators may worry about their "strong, independent woman" not being well liked. So they don't make her too independent, too three-dimensional, too interesting. And so those who benefit from straight white male privilege remain comfortable in the knowledge that a woman - who to them is an object for their consumption and male gaze - hasn't threatened or affected the status quo.
Nimona breaks the status quo in every way.
She is no role model. Uncaring (mostly), impulsive and a remorseless killer, she should be unlikable. She seems created for the purpose of rejecting traditional gender behaviour, and in light of the revelation of her true backstory, it is plausible that Nimona is intentionally trying to break the very system that harmed her for not being a "perfect little girl". So she is dangerous both in-universe - because of her powers - and within the conventions of the fantasy and science-fiction genre. That Nimona makes her own choice to be a villain's sidekick is fitting for her, and makes sense for the reader wondering whether he/she/they should like this assertive breaker of comforting gender tropes. But Ballister Blackheart is not really a villain anymore than the Institution is a purely good government, and he expresses distaste at Nimona's actions.
But he doesn't kick her out. Like the reader, he is curious about this strange, unconventional girl. Unconventional also is her appearance: Nimona's main form, as a fantasy heroine, is a chubby, fully-clothed one with a shaved head (Nimona’s subversive takedown on her gender role is similar in style to the main female characters from another fantasy comic, ‘Rat Queens’). It is not only her attitude, but the energy with which she exerts that attitude that makes her a surprising break-out character, in my opinion.
Nimona is an enigma, so she doesn't appear in the comic as much as the protag Ballister. In this sense she is also a well-placed, individual entity, rather than a real threat. The reader - and again, Ballister - wants to solve the mystery of Nimona: the unconventional, scarily powerful and striking character. Gender be damned.
Plotwise, Nimona may exist for the other characters to react to. But that isn't her only purpose. One of her functions of breaking the patriarchy and the status quo is to inadvertently play matchmaker for two men who love each other romantically. There are no princesses in this fairy tale.
Slight spoiler: Nimona turns out to be sympathetic after all. Not that it would have mattered if she isn't. She'd still be an interesting and multilayered antiheroine, constantly changing shapes and keeping the reader guessing.
Whew!
On to simpler things now. Dr Meredith Blitzmeyer is another great addition to the cast - a woman who is a mad scientist? Also rather unconventional in any genre. The Director is perhaps the weakest character, for she is the most obviously evil person in 'Nimona', and seems to play straight the stereotype of the cold-hearted woman in power instead of subverting it. Though maybe she's an exact product of a society and system that demands that a woman in charge be unemotional and hyper-masculine?
What a long review this turned out to be! It goes to show how much power storytelling has, and how many layers and symbols can be interpreted to reflect the real world we live in. All from one graphic novel; a worthy medium as 'Nimona' proves.
To wrap things up, 'Nimona' is a charming yet surprisingly deep, ominous and touching sword and sorcery tale. Social, ethical and political themes of government corruption, the nature of what passes for good and evil, punishing and torturing those who are different (discrimination examples include shapeshifters, and the more realistic inclusion of people within the LBGTQ community), forgiveness, and seeing the best in the worst - these are all executed brilliantly. 'Nimona' isn't too preachy, however; if anything it seems like Noelle Stevenson was having a blast with her pet project.
Fun, action-packed, mysterious, smart, dark and poignant, 'Nimona' is fantastic. It will stay with the reader for a long time after the last delightful page. A comic for all walks of life.
Final Score: 5/5
I was wrong. The art fits ‘Nimona’ terrifically on a subversive level.
It reflects the main theme of the story of 'Nimona'. The theme, in a nutshell, is this: nothing is as simple as it first appears. It begins as a zany and funny comic strip set in an ambiguous world where magic and science coexist, and then it morphs into something more complex, dark and twisted. Parody shifts into deconstruction. Halfway through the graphic novel this becomes more apparent.
‘Nimona’ basically asks this question of its audience: if appearances don't matter, and there is always a complexity and reasoning behind everything, then are there really such things as good and evil? These are just concepts; terms made up to comfort people and simplify an ever-changing, ever-moving, grey-area world inhabited by the billions; with different points-of-view and experiences. They may all think that their individual worldview is the right one, therefore no one really thinks of themselves as evil (meaning, wrong). Unless they're in a silly children's story, perhaps.
The characters in ‘Nimona’ also perfectly demonstrate this. While she's the titular character, Nimona herself is not the protagonist. Her origin and motives are a mystery throughout most of the book. Like the book named after her, her true self gradually reveals itself the more you read on. 'Nimona' is not as simple or childish as appearances suggest; this theme is further illustrated by the fact that Nimona herself is a literal shapeshifter. I'll discuss more about her later, however.
First, let's talk about Ballister Blackheart, the true protagonist of 'Nimona'. The reader follows this supposed villain from beginning to end: we witness his struggles, his confusion over the enigma that is his new sidekick Nimona, his loves and losses, and we understand his frustrations as well as his moral code of no killing; something Nimona doesn't share. It is pretty clear from the start that Ballister is not as evil as everyone within the context of the story perceives - or wants to perceive - him to be, and I absolutely adore him. Despite everything that has happened to him, he cares deeply for others and will attempt to understand (grudgingly in Ambrosius's case) and fix people. The dark-haired, goatee-sporting, mechanical-armed, intelligent, science-loving "baddie" is as selfless as they come.
The Institution of Law Enforcement and Heroics, which acts as the government of the unnamed world of 'Nimona', had manipulated and practically forced Ballister into villainy because every swords and sorcery story needs a villain, a scapegoat (scape-goatee? ha ha). Ballister, whose goal is to expose government corruption and fear mongering, appears to be more sympathetic than the Institution’s - and by definition the story's - designated hero, Ballister's old Institution partner Ambrosius Goldenloin.
Blonde and dashing Ambrosius shows signs of complexity and internal struggles more gradually than Ballister does, including remorse over his actions which had caused his dear friend to become isolated and alone.
Nimona in a way fills that void for Ballister, hence one of the reasons why he grows to love her like an adopted daughter. Reflecting this period of character development, Ambrosius is revealed to be neither as dumb nor as much of a pawn as he first appears. Both men love, and can be loved in return...
The Institution - more specifically the sinister Director - is the puppet master of 'Nimona', controlling the fantasy/science land on a macro-scale and driving apart the relationship between Ballister and Ambrosius on a micro-scale. External struggles and internal, personal power ones combine.
I love that, while not explicit, it is made quite clear that the friendship the two main male characters share is something more. Whether the homosexual prince-type figures live happily ever after depends on each of their present actions, with no more dwelling on past mistakes. It would also be spoilery of me to reveal the outcome of their strong bond, so I'll just leave it at that for now.
Now onto the shapeshifting girl Nimona, who, among other things, turns out to be a catalyst for bringing Ballister and Ambrosius closer together than ever before. She is trigger-happy, funny as heck, and evil. But she is so darn cute while she does bad deeds (such as murder) that the reader - as well as Ballister, the audience's stand-in - can't help but like her, even in a confused way. Nimona's carelessness, evasiveness of Ballister's questions concerning the nature of her powers, and hiding her true strength all add up to a sign of and a prelude to how much of a monster she is. Or isn't, depending on individual reader interpretation.
We get many glimpses of who the real Nimona is on the inside as well as the outside. Is the cute young girl image even her true form, as Ballister speculates at one point? A nature-versus-nurture element plays a small part in 'Nimona' here. And it all comes together towards a heart-stopping, deadly climax.
One concept I would like to study and explore in regards to how Nimona plays her role is: the idea of the morally-ambiguous female, or the anti-heroine, and why there are so little of them to name in popular culture. It is likely that what I am about to interpret was unintentional on the part of the author Noelle Stevenson, but I believe it's worth discussing nevertheless:
I think it is self-evident that many people expect too much from a woman who takes charge and acts outside the norm of a patriarchal society. They put an unfair amount of pressure on her to be perfect all the time - for as part of a "minority" she must represent all women everywhere. Naturally a contradiction surfaces, since no expectations from anyone can be perfect and all women are not the same. The “strong, independent woman” must be good, must be forever right (which is nigh-impossible for any person to achieve), and must not lose her temper or let her feelings show no matter how much she may suffer externally or internally. She is not a person to the privileged higher-ups (mainly, the straight white males who have nothing to prove and don't have to apologise for anything), she's a paragon; and therefore her humanity is completely disregarded should she make even the smallest mistake or controversial choice. This line of thinking can affect women in both real life and in fiction. How many fictional females can you name that are "controversial" simply because they don't fit the traditional feminine form and norm? Because they are assertive? How many instances can you think of where a strong woman gets called out for being "mean", "bossy" or "bitchy" - both in-universe and out - when if a man were in her position and did the exact same things he won't receive as much hostility? Too many examples exist in the media/pop culture spectre where a strong woman is punished simply for being strong. For being human.
As a result of this misogynistic and patriarchal outlook, some - not all - creators may worry about their "strong, independent woman" not being well liked. So they don't make her too independent, too three-dimensional, too interesting. And so those who benefit from straight white male privilege remain comfortable in the knowledge that a woman - who to them is an object for their consumption and male gaze - hasn't threatened or affected the status quo.
Nimona breaks the status quo in every way.
She is no role model. Uncaring (mostly), impulsive and a remorseless killer, she should be unlikable. She seems created for the purpose of rejecting traditional gender behaviour, and in light of the revelation of her true backstory, it is plausible that Nimona is intentionally trying to break the very system that harmed her for not being a "perfect little girl". So she is dangerous both in-universe - because of her powers - and within the conventions of the fantasy and science-fiction genre. That Nimona makes her own choice to be a villain's sidekick is fitting for her, and makes sense for the reader wondering whether he/she/they should like this assertive breaker of comforting gender tropes. But Ballister Blackheart is not really a villain anymore than the Institution is a purely good government, and he expresses distaste at Nimona's actions.
But he doesn't kick her out. Like the reader, he is curious about this strange, unconventional girl. Unconventional also is her appearance: Nimona's main form, as a fantasy heroine, is a chubby, fully-clothed one with a shaved head (Nimona’s subversive takedown on her gender role is similar in style to the main female characters from another fantasy comic, ‘Rat Queens’). It is not only her attitude, but the energy with which she exerts that attitude that makes her a surprising break-out character, in my opinion.
Nimona is an enigma, so she doesn't appear in the comic as much as the protag Ballister. In this sense she is also a well-placed, individual entity, rather than a real threat. The reader - and again, Ballister - wants to solve the mystery of Nimona: the unconventional, scarily powerful and striking character. Gender be damned.
Plotwise, Nimona may exist for the other characters to react to. But that isn't her only purpose. One of her functions of breaking the patriarchy and the status quo is to inadvertently play matchmaker for two men who love each other romantically. There are no princesses in this fairy tale.
Slight spoiler: Nimona turns out to be sympathetic after all. Not that it would have mattered if she isn't. She'd still be an interesting and multilayered antiheroine, constantly changing shapes and keeping the reader guessing.
Whew!
On to simpler things now. Dr Meredith Blitzmeyer is another great addition to the cast - a woman who is a mad scientist? Also rather unconventional in any genre. The Director is perhaps the weakest character, for she is the most obviously evil person in 'Nimona', and seems to play straight the stereotype of the cold-hearted woman in power instead of subverting it. Though maybe she's an exact product of a society and system that demands that a woman in charge be unemotional and hyper-masculine?
What a long review this turned out to be! It goes to show how much power storytelling has, and how many layers and symbols can be interpreted to reflect the real world we live in. All from one graphic novel; a worthy medium as 'Nimona' proves.
To wrap things up, 'Nimona' is a charming yet surprisingly deep, ominous and touching sword and sorcery tale. Social, ethical and political themes of government corruption, the nature of what passes for good and evil, punishing and torturing those who are different (discrimination examples include shapeshifters, and the more realistic inclusion of people within the LBGTQ community), forgiveness, and seeing the best in the worst - these are all executed brilliantly. 'Nimona' isn't too preachy, however; if anything it seems like Noelle Stevenson was having a blast with her pet project.
Fun, action-packed, mysterious, smart, dark and poignant, 'Nimona' is fantastic. It will stay with the reader for a long time after the last delightful page. A comic for all walks of life.
Final Score: 5/5
Friday 14 August 2015
Wednesday 5 August 2015
Book Review - 'Rogue (Croak, #3)' by Gina Damico
2021 EDIT: Last book in the 'Croak' series I've skimmed after rereading the first.
'Rogue' is better than 'Scorch', but that's hardly praise, and by now it's too little too late.
All I have left to say is that I won't be missing these miserable, despicable characters (but Pandora is awesome). There is SO MUCH secrecy and manipulation suffocating these morose books, for the sake of adding mysteries and intrigue, I don't even.
I am NOT a fan of the main teen romance, at all.
I'll remember to mention here that there are A LOT - and I mean A LOT - of fridged women in this series, and A LOT of women who suffer gruesome, horrific deaths, while men are often met with a less cruel demise, or are inexplicably shown mercy and spared. No such forgiveness and pardon is given to female characters. In light of the abundant slut shaming, girl-hate over a boy, "crazy and deadly with power" females, and competent-females-actually-subordinates-to-male-masters in the previous books (do NOT get me started on Zara and Sofi), I'll let you draw your own conclusions there. I swear every girl and woman gets paired up with a male, even when they're dead. As if that weren't disturbing enough, 'Rogue' also employs the Bury Your Gays trope (poor Pip, he was another of my favourites).
I am very disappointed that Norwood and Ferbus don't die. Maybe there is an intentional point to be made there? That the worst people in the world who may indeed deserve death don't always die? But more nuanced and morally grey (read: human) people do? (What sense does that make?) And life (and death) isn't fair?
Whatever, I'm tired. I don't care anymore.
Also:
Why are all the dead US presidents idolised? And comic relief? WTF?
What the hell happened to Lex's parents? How the hell are they going to live through what happened at the end? They're merely brushed aside, never mentioned again in the epilogue, allowing the readers to make up their own minds about them. In my opinion, it's a gigantic cop-out.
I now hate the ending. I seriously don't like that suicide is presented as the ultimate and right decision at the end - and it's the suicide of a fucking teenager, at that. I can't even begin to articulate everything wrong with this; it's even worse in context. Suffice it to say, it's disconcerting to see in a YA series finale.
Positives: 'Croak' is a YA series with astronomically high stakes. The action is intense, dire, and the plot mostly moves forward at a fast pace, never boring. The characters are memorable, distinct and (darkly and variably) colourful, at least. Perhaps deep down I do have a nostalgic soft spot for these books, and that's why I'm not rating them any lower than I should?
No final, witty words, no lasting impression - this is it, I'm out of here, for good.
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
This will be a short review of the Last of a Book TrilogyTM, because it'll be difficult to get into detail without revealing spoilers.
But all one ought to know about 'Rogue' - the finale of the great, funny, deliciously demented and daring 'Croak' books - is that it is dark. As in Dark. VERY Dark.
Its ending, while a little rushed and controversial (but hey, what ending isn't?), is nightmarish. Yet it's heartfelt and hopeful at the same time. Horrific. Outrageous. Bittersweet. Loving. Brave. Bold. The mix of emotions and tones are what made me fall in love with the books to begin with, and 'Rogue' did not disappoint in delivery.
Our lovely protagonist, teen Grim Reaper Lex Bartleby, is a mass murderer. She Damns people before their time, when it is not her choice to take their lives, no matter how much they might deserve it. Because of her recklessness, she is partly to blame for everything going wrong in ‘Rogue’, including war within the Grimsphere. The author never lets the reader forget this.
But Lex is still funny, likable and sympathetic enough in her choices and actions, especially given her circumstances with death. She now has a mission to save/rewrite the whole Grimsphere society. And the Afterlife itself.
I love that Lex isn’t overtly angsty. She is ever the witty anti-heroine - something rarely seen in any form of media because a patriarchal society dictates that any woman who takes charge and leads is a bitch and so shouldn't be taken seriously. Lex tries not to be emotional or think too much about how hard her life has become so suddenly. She assertively keeps a level head throughout, to help fix the things she broke. The young delinquent will learn from her mistakes, and will take selflessness, bravery and self-sacrifice to a new level unseen and inconceivable in anything before...
As for the other characters: Lex's boyfriend Driggs has changed drastically since the previous book, 'Scorch', but only physically - he still connects brilliantly with Lex with their banter, and a shocking secret from his past is revealed. Indeed, like Lex, nobody's perfect. Uncle Mort is an evasive and manipulative mad genius, whose arc ends perfectly in my opinion. As in 'Scorch', I remain indignant in my hatred for Ferbus. He's a begrudging bastard; absolutely no friend of Lex’s, even though there's no indication that he wouldn't do what Lex had done if he had her Damning powers. He does very little in the story, aside from being a pain. And he treats Elysia, another girl, like shit (they're a couple, seriously?!). Speaking of Elysia, she is a saint; a loyal, unwavering and lovable female friend to Lex. Although as part of the main Grim Junior group in ‘Rogue’, Elysia is rather useless in action (I guess that's one thing she and Ferbus share in common). Little Pip is barely worth mentioning except for his =huge spoiler= near the end. I really like Bang for her important contribution to the plot, in spite of never saying a word of dialogue. And old, snappy Pandora is full of surprises...
Others - such as Broomie - get bit parts, unfortunately. Even the villains - such as Norwood - to an extent.
But this is worth saying: you will hate Grotton. He's the ghost of the first Grim, and the one who started the whole mess from the very beginning (this becomes more meaningful as the book progresses to one of its twisty revelations (only one of which is very predictable, I might add)). So Lex isn't entirely to blame for everything (got that, Ferbus? You useless, passive-aggressive arsehole).
All in all, the 'Croak' series by Gina Damico is a YA trilogy that's worth every penny. For anyone looking for anything original and/or "more" than your standard YA fare, I recommend it. Whether you'll like the conclusion or not depends on your own individual tastes and experiences, but the series is wickedly funny, heartbreaking, courageous, and ironically sweet and charming too. You care for the characters and their plights, and if not then they’re still interesting, endearing and memorable. Above all they feel human, with the colossal responsibility of guiding souls to the Afterlife, while not damaging it in the process.
The books are cool, hugely creative, and immensely readable.
Books about death that are addictive? You may well believe it in 'Croak'.
Final Score (for 'Rogue'): 4/5
'Rogue' is better than 'Scorch', but that's hardly praise, and by now it's too little too late.
All I have left to say is that I won't be missing these miserable, despicable characters (but Pandora is awesome). There is SO MUCH secrecy and manipulation suffocating these morose books, for the sake of adding mysteries and intrigue, I don't even.
I am NOT a fan of the main teen romance, at all.
I'll remember to mention here that there are A LOT - and I mean A LOT - of fridged women in this series, and A LOT of women who suffer gruesome, horrific deaths, while men are often met with a less cruel demise, or are inexplicably shown mercy and spared. No such forgiveness and pardon is given to female characters. In light of the abundant slut shaming, girl-hate over a boy, "crazy and deadly with power" females, and competent-females-actually-subordinates-to-male-masters in the previous books (do NOT get me started on Zara and Sofi), I'll let you draw your own conclusions there. I swear every girl and woman gets paired up with a male, even when they're dead. As if that weren't disturbing enough, 'Rogue' also employs the Bury Your Gays trope (poor Pip, he was another of my favourites).
I am very disappointed that Norwood and Ferbus don't die. Maybe there is an intentional point to be made there? That the worst people in the world who may indeed deserve death don't always die? But more nuanced and morally grey (read: human) people do? (What sense does that make?) And life (and death) isn't fair?
Whatever, I'm tired. I don't care anymore.
Also:
Why are all the dead US presidents idolised? And comic relief? WTF?
What the hell happened to Lex's parents? How the hell are they going to live through what happened at the end? They're merely brushed aside, never mentioned again in the epilogue, allowing the readers to make up their own minds about them. In my opinion, it's a gigantic cop-out.
I now hate the ending. I seriously don't like that suicide is presented as the ultimate and right decision at the end - and it's the suicide of a fucking teenager, at that. I can't even begin to articulate everything wrong with this; it's even worse in context. Suffice it to say, it's disconcerting to see in a YA series finale.
Positives: 'Croak' is a YA series with astronomically high stakes. The action is intense, dire, and the plot mostly moves forward at a fast pace, never boring. The characters are memorable, distinct and (darkly and variably) colourful, at least. Perhaps deep down I do have a nostalgic soft spot for these books, and that's why I'm not rating them any lower than I should?
No final, witty words, no lasting impression - this is it, I'm out of here, for good.
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
This will be a short review of the Last of a Book TrilogyTM, because it'll be difficult to get into detail without revealing spoilers.
But all one ought to know about 'Rogue' - the finale of the great, funny, deliciously demented and daring 'Croak' books - is that it is dark. As in Dark. VERY Dark.
Its ending, while a little rushed and controversial (but hey, what ending isn't?), is nightmarish. Yet it's heartfelt and hopeful at the same time. Horrific. Outrageous. Bittersweet. Loving. Brave. Bold. The mix of emotions and tones are what made me fall in love with the books to begin with, and 'Rogue' did not disappoint in delivery.
Our lovely protagonist, teen Grim Reaper Lex Bartleby, is a mass murderer. She Damns people before their time, when it is not her choice to take their lives, no matter how much they might deserve it. Because of her recklessness, she is partly to blame for everything going wrong in ‘Rogue’, including war within the Grimsphere. The author never lets the reader forget this.
But Lex is still funny, likable and sympathetic enough in her choices and actions, especially given her circumstances with death. She now has a mission to save/rewrite the whole Grimsphere society. And the Afterlife itself.
I love that Lex isn’t overtly angsty. She is ever the witty anti-heroine - something rarely seen in any form of media because a patriarchal society dictates that any woman who takes charge and leads is a bitch and so shouldn't be taken seriously. Lex tries not to be emotional or think too much about how hard her life has become so suddenly. She assertively keeps a level head throughout, to help fix the things she broke. The young delinquent will learn from her mistakes, and will take selflessness, bravery and self-sacrifice to a new level unseen and inconceivable in anything before...
As for the other characters: Lex's boyfriend Driggs has changed drastically since the previous book, 'Scorch', but only physically - he still connects brilliantly with Lex with their banter, and a shocking secret from his past is revealed. Indeed, like Lex, nobody's perfect. Uncle Mort is an evasive and manipulative mad genius, whose arc ends perfectly in my opinion. As in 'Scorch', I remain indignant in my hatred for Ferbus. He's a begrudging bastard; absolutely no friend of Lex’s, even though there's no indication that he wouldn't do what Lex had done if he had her Damning powers. He does very little in the story, aside from being a pain. And he treats Elysia, another girl, like shit (they're a couple, seriously?!). Speaking of Elysia, she is a saint; a loyal, unwavering and lovable female friend to Lex. Although as part of the main Grim Junior group in ‘Rogue’, Elysia is rather useless in action (I guess that's one thing she and Ferbus share in common). Little Pip is barely worth mentioning except for his =huge spoiler= near the end. I really like Bang for her important contribution to the plot, in spite of never saying a word of dialogue. And old, snappy Pandora is full of surprises...
Others - such as Broomie - get bit parts, unfortunately. Even the villains - such as Norwood - to an extent.
But this is worth saying: you will hate Grotton. He's the ghost of the first Grim, and the one who started the whole mess from the very beginning (this becomes more meaningful as the book progresses to one of its twisty revelations (only one of which is very predictable, I might add)). So Lex isn't entirely to blame for everything (got that, Ferbus? You useless, passive-aggressive arsehole).
All in all, the 'Croak' series by Gina Damico is a YA trilogy that's worth every penny. For anyone looking for anything original and/or "more" than your standard YA fare, I recommend it. Whether you'll like the conclusion or not depends on your own individual tastes and experiences, but the series is wickedly funny, heartbreaking, courageous, and ironically sweet and charming too. You care for the characters and their plights, and if not then they’re still interesting, endearing and memorable. Above all they feel human, with the colossal responsibility of guiding souls to the Afterlife, while not damaging it in the process.
The books are cool, hugely creative, and immensely readable.
Books about death that are addictive? You may well believe it in 'Croak'.
Final Score (for 'Rogue'): 4/5
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)