Thursday 31 August 2017
This month: I've made it to over 1000 books on GR! And I've read 195 books (all kinds, whatever) so far this year! Time is moving so fast, it's scary. Hopefully more great books will come next month :) A big thanks and appreciation to my GR friends and people who read my blog as well - you all are the absolute best :) :)
Sunday 27 August 2017
Saw 'Batman and Harley Quinn'. What did I think of it? Well, in the words of Harley herself at the end of the movie, "Well that was a big-ass bucket of nothing." Seriously, does every animated project from Bruce Timm have to have female characters existing sorely for sex appeal and fanservice? And have them be talked about in an objectifying manner by male characters, filled with unfunny innuendos? Or is it an unfortunate coincidence that virtually all of Timm's women are drawn and written like that? This film is nowhere near as bad as 'The Killing Joke', though that isn't a compliment. With 'Batman and Harley Quinn' I feel I want to sit it down and slap it around a few times demanding "what were you thinking?", whilst with 'The Killing Joke' I want to take it far, far away to the deepest, darkest part of the Antarctic so I can nuke it. Pointless scenes plus unnecessary swearing and sex plus adding nothing new or interesting for both old and new Harley Quinn fans equals a movie with no reason to exist. The end. But the animation is good. Whatever, I'm done with DC animated movies. For now.
In other news, I also happened to see 'Lego DC Super Hero Girls: Brain Drain'. Awful. Simply awful. Plot holes the size of the Phantom Zone, cringe-worthy dialogue out of something like the 'Barbie' movies, and is overall obnoxious and unfunny. 'Brain Drain' is an appropriate title. Could it really not be at least similar to the much higher quality of the other 'Lego' movies because it's a girls property? How did this happen in 2017?
I'm not having much luck here, am I? I guess I'm just so, so tired. The world is a terrible place where no one listens and no one learns from their mistakes; if aliens visited right now they would take this to be earth's ultimate message and motto: "If you're male and have enough money, you can get away with anything".
In other news, I also happened to see 'Lego DC Super Hero Girls: Brain Drain'. Awful. Simply awful. Plot holes the size of the Phantom Zone, cringe-worthy dialogue out of something like the 'Barbie' movies, and is overall obnoxious and unfunny. 'Brain Drain' is an appropriate title. Could it really not be at least similar to the much higher quality of the other 'Lego' movies because it's a girls property? How did this happen in 2017?
I'm not having much luck here, am I? I guess I'm just so, so tired. The world is a terrible place where no one listens and no one learns from their mistakes; if aliens visited right now they would take this to be earth's ultimate message and motto: "If you're male and have enough money, you can get away with anything".
Graphic Novel Review - 'Wonder Woman, Volume 2: Year One (Wonder Woman, Volume V #2)' by Greg Rucka (Writer), Nicola Scott (Artist), Romulo Fajardo, Jr. (Colourist), Jodi Wynn (Letterer), Bilquis Evely (Artist)
I find it fitting that for my 400th book review, I'd praise a 'Wonder Woman' graphic novel.
I've now read over 20 comics about the powerful, beloved Amazon princess - the good, the bad, and the epically diverse, in the many ways her story and character can be interpreted, nearly 80 years since her creation.
'Wonder Woman, Volume 2: Year One' is one of the newest and best editions to her run, and it's yet another origin story. It's somewhat of an homage to George Pérez's 'Gods and Mortals' origin way back in the eighties. But 'Year One', as part of the DC Rebirth line, feels fresh and relevant; an update for its time, in terms of modern sensibilities and issues, and feminism. It depicts Diana as how she should be: compassionate, free-loving, optimistic, intuitive, strong-willed, and vulnerable enough to appear human and sympathetic to those around her.
Wonder Woman is a goddess. An admired goddess finding her place in man's world after leaving her island of Themyscira and her Amazon mother and sisters, presumably forever. She is not an ambassador for her people yet, but a confused alien in the outside world torn apart by terrorism, where she speaks no one's language and doesn't fully understand what is going on. But with the help of Greek gods in the form of animals, her gifts will come to her gradually. Her strength grows as she learns more about the best (love) and worst (hate) of humanity, never letting herself lose her way in the path to truth.
I can't really add anything new here that I haven't already talked about in all the other reviews of 'Wonder Woman' comics that I've done. Those reviews, including this one, add up to the reasons explained in the past for why I adore Wonder Woman so much.
I'll just mention that Greg Rucka really does understand the character - he does seem to understand and respect women all; for a male writer to actually achieve this, to treat it like it isn't a difficulty or an issue at all, and rightly so, it is something worth noting nowadays, sadly. There's no fanservice in this comic, and whaddaya know, it's so much better without it. Diana's relationship with her mother Queen Hippolyta is touching and very well done. Steve Trevor is a good man as he is in the previous volume. There is a small attraction between Lieutenant Etta Candy and Doctor Barbara Ann Minerva, so the LBGT content isn't limited to Diana's own relationships with her fellow Amazons (which there could have been more of, other than a couple of wink-winks on the side. Oh well). Barbara Ann is given a great focus and development in the comic, as an archaeologist, linguist and explorer worthy of Indiana Jones' fame. The art is some of the best I've ever seen; Diana's facial expressions are gold, human. It is bright and beautiful. Her ability to talk to animals is charming, funny and even important to the plot (an owl uses a smartphone at one point. Nuff said). And Wondy's Lasso of Truth is literally named "Perfect" here. Okay, whatever.
Wonder Woman - what a human! For a princess, goddess and icon. She is a very well-rounded, smart, compassionate, excitable, homesick but assertive hero. No character overshadows another in 'Wonder Woman, Volume 2: Year One': it is cleverly written in that regard. Each character is great. And what a beautiful, charming, dramatic, action-packed story.
I will add one thing I want to say about Wonder Woman that I haven't before: To me she has always represented feminism in that there are no limitations placed on anyone just because of one's gender. Being a woman, being feminine, should not be considered a weakness. A woman is strength - in her own abilities and against adversity and oppression - but she can use that strength, plus her own certain privileges, to help others, to share, to spread love all around, and expose truths the patriarchy is not comfortable with. Wonder Woman embodies feminism as it is meant to be - equality for absolutely everybody, and that nothing good, healthy or productive comes out of hatred and ignorance. She is the light in a world full of and yet torn apart by its own divisiveness and diversity, caused by the cruel, the selfish, the lying, and the over-privileged. Wonder Woman may be fictional, but her staying power cannot be ignored and underestimated. People have loved her enough to want to keep seeing her again and again these 75 years. And when she is portrayed poorly, up to thousands of fans' voices will be heard. She is an inspiration. She is an icon. With her first ever feature-length blockbuster movie being one of the greatest successes of this year - a triumph for both female superhero films and female directors - her popularity and influential power has been greater than it has in decades, perhaps since Lynda Carter's famous spin on the character in the seventies.
So 'Year One', written in time for the movie but is its own separate, unique origin story, is special. It may well remain relevant in years to come. In the name of Wonder Woman, feminism and the world and its social and political climates and cultures.
Happy 400th review!!!
Final Score: 4.5/5
I've now read over 20 comics about the powerful, beloved Amazon princess - the good, the bad, and the epically diverse, in the many ways her story and character can be interpreted, nearly 80 years since her creation.
'Wonder Woman, Volume 2: Year One' is one of the newest and best editions to her run, and it's yet another origin story. It's somewhat of an homage to George Pérez's 'Gods and Mortals' origin way back in the eighties. But 'Year One', as part of the DC Rebirth line, feels fresh and relevant; an update for its time, in terms of modern sensibilities and issues, and feminism. It depicts Diana as how she should be: compassionate, free-loving, optimistic, intuitive, strong-willed, and vulnerable enough to appear human and sympathetic to those around her.
Wonder Woman is a goddess. An admired goddess finding her place in man's world after leaving her island of Themyscira and her Amazon mother and sisters, presumably forever. She is not an ambassador for her people yet, but a confused alien in the outside world torn apart by terrorism, where she speaks no one's language and doesn't fully understand what is going on. But with the help of Greek gods in the form of animals, her gifts will come to her gradually. Her strength grows as she learns more about the best (love) and worst (hate) of humanity, never letting herself lose her way in the path to truth.
I can't really add anything new here that I haven't already talked about in all the other reviews of 'Wonder Woman' comics that I've done. Those reviews, including this one, add up to the reasons explained in the past for why I adore Wonder Woman so much.
I'll just mention that Greg Rucka really does understand the character - he does seem to understand and respect women all; for a male writer to actually achieve this, to treat it like it isn't a difficulty or an issue at all, and rightly so, it is something worth noting nowadays, sadly. There's no fanservice in this comic, and whaddaya know, it's so much better without it. Diana's relationship with her mother Queen Hippolyta is touching and very well done. Steve Trevor is a good man as he is in the previous volume. There is a small attraction between Lieutenant Etta Candy and Doctor Barbara Ann Minerva, so the LBGT content isn't limited to Diana's own relationships with her fellow Amazons (which there could have been more of, other than a couple of wink-winks on the side. Oh well). Barbara Ann is given a great focus and development in the comic, as an archaeologist, linguist and explorer worthy of Indiana Jones' fame. The art is some of the best I've ever seen; Diana's facial expressions are gold, human. It is bright and beautiful. Her ability to talk to animals is charming, funny and even important to the plot (an owl uses a smartphone at one point. Nuff said). And Wondy's Lasso of Truth is literally named "Perfect" here. Okay, whatever.
Wonder Woman - what a human! For a princess, goddess and icon. She is a very well-rounded, smart, compassionate, excitable, homesick but assertive hero. No character overshadows another in 'Wonder Woman, Volume 2: Year One': it is cleverly written in that regard. Each character is great. And what a beautiful, charming, dramatic, action-packed story.
I will add one thing I want to say about Wonder Woman that I haven't before: To me she has always represented feminism in that there are no limitations placed on anyone just because of one's gender. Being a woman, being feminine, should not be considered a weakness. A woman is strength - in her own abilities and against adversity and oppression - but she can use that strength, plus her own certain privileges, to help others, to share, to spread love all around, and expose truths the patriarchy is not comfortable with. Wonder Woman embodies feminism as it is meant to be - equality for absolutely everybody, and that nothing good, healthy or productive comes out of hatred and ignorance. She is the light in a world full of and yet torn apart by its own divisiveness and diversity, caused by the cruel, the selfish, the lying, and the over-privileged. Wonder Woman may be fictional, but her staying power cannot be ignored and underestimated. People have loved her enough to want to keep seeing her again and again these 75 years. And when she is portrayed poorly, up to thousands of fans' voices will be heard. She is an inspiration. She is an icon. With her first ever feature-length blockbuster movie being one of the greatest successes of this year - a triumph for both female superhero films and female directors - her popularity and influential power has been greater than it has in decades, perhaps since Lynda Carter's famous spin on the character in the seventies.
So 'Year One', written in time for the movie but is its own separate, unique origin story, is special. It may well remain relevant in years to come. In the name of Wonder Woman, feminism and the world and its social and political climates and cultures.
Happy 400th review!!!
Final Score: 4.5/5
Book Review - 'Eliza and Her Monsters' by Francesca Zappia
2019 EDIT: Spoilers. Content warning: suicide.
I'm changing my rating, since I don't have a lot of fond memories of this book. Hindsight can be a downer, and a shadow.
Skimming it again, 'Eliza and Her Monsters' starts off beautifully, but it could have benefited from being shorter. Eliza can be really irritating and nonsensically self-absorbed, even for an introverted teen with anxiety issues. Why doesn't she give out trust as easily as she receives it again? Also her love interest, Wallace, who starts off very nice and subversive, becomes a selfish prick towards the end; which is sadly archetypal in YA male leads. He doesn't think about Eliza's feelings and her obvious mental breakdown at having her huge secret outed. He actually drives her to contemplating suicide, while she's in a daze, which he rescues her from in such a melodramatic plot contrivance (like, how and why did he get to her in time? I can't remember). Big strong macho guy rescuing poor wallflower damsel - yeah, I'm not a fan of that. Wallace is barely sorry for causing Eliza grief, as well. In fact his dialogue indicates he puts some of the blame on her. Yeah, he's no hero.
Overall, for a creative, celebratory well for artists, fandoms and introverts, 'Eliza and Her Monsters' is pretty miserable. The side characters I don't remember at all. Some things at the end are ridiculous, and everything seems to work out too perfectly. Aside from receiving therapy sessions, I don't feel like Eliza especially grows, or develops to be the least assertive and independent. It's all about a boy, as always. (Plus reading some books for that spark of creative inspiration, but it gets there a little too little, too late, in my opinion.) 'Monstrous Sea' certainly doesn't interest me anymore.
I don't regret reading 'Eliza and Her Monsters', and I'm sure it will inspire others - there is a lot of refreshing, helpful insight to be had - but I prefer a bit more self-awareness and less disappointing and dickish boys in my books.
Last note in hindsight: How did Eliza, a seventeen-year-old full-on introvert with anxiety and depression, get a driver's licence? Is this a thing in America, where every single teenager just HAS to drive and own a nice car, even if they're poor or otherwise of a lower middle class background?
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
''There are monsters in the sea"
"You found my name in a constellation"
- 'Monstrous Sea'
'Eliza and Her Monsters' is a book made for all creative types and introverts. It is lovely, sad, tragic, inspiring, and it successfully, heartrendingly gets into the mind of a hugely-imaginative, antisocial teenager in her last year of high school miserably going through the motions of outside living. When all she wants to do is stay in her room and create, and escape into, her own fantasy world. One that is famous in the online community.
It is Eliza Mirk's own special art, a webcomic called 'Monstrous Sea', uploaded under the avatar LadyConstellation. In its three year run, the fantasy world full of monsters, elfin heroes and Faustian themes has become a phenomenon, gaining a huge fanbase and following.
With all the success of 'Monstrous Sea', nobody, except a couple of online friends keeping maintenance on the web content and comment sections, knows who LadyConstellation is. And Eliza wants to keep it that way.
What about when she shares common interests with a new boy at school? Wallace, who looks like a football player but is so shy he tends to communicate in writing than in speech, is a big 'Monstrous Sea' fan - the only one Eliza has met in real life - and writes novel versions of the story (and popular fanfictions of it under his own mysterious avatar). He wishes to get published someday, to earn a living for his creativity and doing what he loves. Will this fellow complicated introvert be able to break Eliza out of her shell? Enough for her to finally find a way to tell him her secret, that she is the creator of his inspiration; his beloved fandom?
The real world is harder, less simple, and more painful than in a story, where there are rules to follow, lines to get right. Emotions, anxieties, decisions: they are unpredictable and scary. Life has no structure to it, or a clean happily ever after - you make it what you will; what you choose to do every single day, for yourself and others.
There are monsters in the sea. Some big, some small, some subtle. Some within as well as without.
'Eliza and Her Monsters' is a spiritual successor and soul sister to Rainbow Rowell's 'Fangirl'. It's a love letter that understands fandom and geek culture in an intimate way. Capturing the mental and emotional state of a teenage girl with social anxiety issues who prefers the worlds in her own imagination to real people, and who is in the cusp of adulthood and thinks she already has it all worked out, is not an easy feat in writing. But Francesca Zappia accomplishes it with sensitivity, understanding (especially of the internet age and how it affects depression and other mental illnesses), and humour as well as drama. I was surprised by how funny this book actually is, coming from both new and familiar people in Eliza's circle, making jokes and managing to get a response - laughter - out of her as well as the reader.
Eliza Mirk, while a sensitive girl prone to obsessing over worst case scenarios, isn't typically self-conscious or insecure for an introvert. She just doesn't care. She prefers to be unseen, to remain safe everywhere, so why bother with her appearance or being social? She is shy enough round people that she is viewed as invisible at best and a freak at worst at her school. She has a rocky relationship with her fitness-and-sports-junkie parents, who are well-meaning but frustratingly out-of-touch, and she has nothing in common with her two outgoing and cheeky younger brothers, Sully and Church, so she doesn't pay much mind to what they do. Though she'll come to realize how much she doesn't know about her own family, who are only human like her, and are capable of empathy and care. She didn't know these things beforehand due to her own closed-off existence.
'Monstrous Sea' is what Eliza lives for passionately, and she will work to create new pages for her fans who don't know who she is every week, never breaking routine in three years. I related to her so much in my own horrible school days filled with shyness, loneliness, bullying, secrecy, mood swings and an overactive imagination, that I had to love her, even when her actions don't make much sense. Every introvert is different and views things differently, after all, some more dramatically than others.
Eliza's relationship with Wallace is sweet and meaningful; gradually moving from communicating through notes to talking more and more about themselves. The way they become a romantic pair in the middle of the book feels natural between two incredibly socially-awkward teens. I love the way they are written together - closely, warmly; comforting, as they share what they love (books! I'm in heaven!) and have lost with each other. Funny, tragic Wallace, who has a poet's unpretentious soul, would be another book boyfriend of mine, if not for his own stupid, selfish actions towards the end. This feels minor, however, when reviewing his character and backstory, and how beautiful a boy he is in the beginning and middle.
I don't think it's a spoiler to say that eventually Eliza's secret is outed. Every blurb and book jacket available tells you that's what happens, and it is an obvious development. It just happens in a way that is unexpected. I only wish I understood better why Eliza never tells Wallace that she is LadyConstellation in the months they've been dating. He will likely be thrilled since he loves 'Monstrous Sea' - something they share and talk about constantly, as fans - and he had poured his heart and soul, and risked rejection - which he fears more than anything - in telling her his own dark secret early in their relationship. She still doesn't tell him. It doesn't come across as an issue of courage or anxiety so much as self-indulgence; in spite of Eliza's development throughout the novel, the secret she has kept for so long is nonetheless more important to her than her boyfriend's feelings. Change, no matter how minor, is still too scary for her. Even after everything, she doesn't understand shared trust, nor does she try to. Sometimes Eliza's selfishness can be irritating.
One of the things in this book that reflects reality in fandom all too well is Eliza observing how shocked and disappointed some online users are to find out that LadyConstellation is a girl. When her name is LadyConstellation, and her avatar drawing is of a female. It's telling of how trolls only love to complain, since if it turned out the creator of 'Monstrous Sea' is a boy, homophobic insults would fill up comment sections and Twitter feeds fast and loud, leaving room for nothing else. They are not only bored, lonely, fragile and insecure enough to hate things considered girly and therefore weak - they hate women, the easy targets of their problems, for creating and expressing themselves in any way, but especially positively.
There are many other elements, themes and subplots in 'Eliza and Her Monsters' I could talk about. For example, the very interesting one about Olivia Kane, an author of a popular children's fantasy book series, who quit writing before completing the final installment, and cut herself off from society, nobody knowing what has become of her. It foreshadows Eliza's own anxiety revolving around her responsibility as a popular creator; she and her favourite author are kindred spirits. But I think that readers would fare better in going into this book not knowing everything about it, and coming to their own conclusions. Maybe I've already ruined a lot of the surprises 'Eliza and Her Monsters' has to offer, but I try not to.
It's so good. 'Monstrous Sea' looks and sounds interesting as well. I hope Francesca Zappia goes somewhere else with it in future books, if not a full story centering on it, in comic book or prose form.
A beautiful, charming and serious novel about the connection between reality and art. It is full of real people with real problems, and relationships and friendships online and offline, and the benefits and downsides of both. Does it get overly dramatic and contrived? I don't care. It's a story worth sharing with the world.
Life and art are precious. So is passion. They are so important. Never forget that.
Final Score: 4/5
I'm changing my rating, since I don't have a lot of fond memories of this book. Hindsight can be a downer, and a shadow.
Skimming it again, 'Eliza and Her Monsters' starts off beautifully, but it could have benefited from being shorter. Eliza can be really irritating and nonsensically self-absorbed, even for an introverted teen with anxiety issues. Why doesn't she give out trust as easily as she receives it again? Also her love interest, Wallace, who starts off very nice and subversive, becomes a selfish prick towards the end; which is sadly archetypal in YA male leads. He doesn't think about Eliza's feelings and her obvious mental breakdown at having her huge secret outed. He actually drives her to contemplating suicide, while she's in a daze, which he rescues her from in such a melodramatic plot contrivance (like, how and why did he get to her in time? I can't remember). Big strong macho guy rescuing poor wallflower damsel - yeah, I'm not a fan of that. Wallace is barely sorry for causing Eliza grief, as well. In fact his dialogue indicates he puts some of the blame on her. Yeah, he's no hero.
Overall, for a creative, celebratory well for artists, fandoms and introverts, 'Eliza and Her Monsters' is pretty miserable. The side characters I don't remember at all. Some things at the end are ridiculous, and everything seems to work out too perfectly. Aside from receiving therapy sessions, I don't feel like Eliza especially grows, or develops to be the least assertive and independent. It's all about a boy, as always. (Plus reading some books for that spark of creative inspiration, but it gets there a little too little, too late, in my opinion.) 'Monstrous Sea' certainly doesn't interest me anymore.
I don't regret reading 'Eliza and Her Monsters', and I'm sure it will inspire others - there is a lot of refreshing, helpful insight to be had - but I prefer a bit more self-awareness and less disappointing and dickish boys in my books.
Last note in hindsight: How did Eliza, a seventeen-year-old full-on introvert with anxiety and depression, get a driver's licence? Is this a thing in America, where every single teenager just HAS to drive and own a nice car, even if they're poor or otherwise of a lower middle class background?
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
''There are monsters in the sea"
"You found my name in a constellation"
- 'Monstrous Sea'
'Eliza and Her Monsters' is a book made for all creative types and introverts. It is lovely, sad, tragic, inspiring, and it successfully, heartrendingly gets into the mind of a hugely-imaginative, antisocial teenager in her last year of high school miserably going through the motions of outside living. When all she wants to do is stay in her room and create, and escape into, her own fantasy world. One that is famous in the online community.
It is Eliza Mirk's own special art, a webcomic called 'Monstrous Sea', uploaded under the avatar LadyConstellation. In its three year run, the fantasy world full of monsters, elfin heroes and Faustian themes has become a phenomenon, gaining a huge fanbase and following.
With all the success of 'Monstrous Sea', nobody, except a couple of online friends keeping maintenance on the web content and comment sections, knows who LadyConstellation is. And Eliza wants to keep it that way.
What about when she shares common interests with a new boy at school? Wallace, who looks like a football player but is so shy he tends to communicate in writing than in speech, is a big 'Monstrous Sea' fan - the only one Eliza has met in real life - and writes novel versions of the story (and popular fanfictions of it under his own mysterious avatar). He wishes to get published someday, to earn a living for his creativity and doing what he loves. Will this fellow complicated introvert be able to break Eliza out of her shell? Enough for her to finally find a way to tell him her secret, that she is the creator of his inspiration; his beloved fandom?
The real world is harder, less simple, and more painful than in a story, where there are rules to follow, lines to get right. Emotions, anxieties, decisions: they are unpredictable and scary. Life has no structure to it, or a clean happily ever after - you make it what you will; what you choose to do every single day, for yourself and others.
There are monsters in the sea. Some big, some small, some subtle. Some within as well as without.
'Eliza and Her Monsters' is a spiritual successor and soul sister to Rainbow Rowell's 'Fangirl'. It's a love letter that understands fandom and geek culture in an intimate way. Capturing the mental and emotional state of a teenage girl with social anxiety issues who prefers the worlds in her own imagination to real people, and who is in the cusp of adulthood and thinks she already has it all worked out, is not an easy feat in writing. But Francesca Zappia accomplishes it with sensitivity, understanding (especially of the internet age and how it affects depression and other mental illnesses), and humour as well as drama. I was surprised by how funny this book actually is, coming from both new and familiar people in Eliza's circle, making jokes and managing to get a response - laughter - out of her as well as the reader.
Eliza Mirk, while a sensitive girl prone to obsessing over worst case scenarios, isn't typically self-conscious or insecure for an introvert. She just doesn't care. She prefers to be unseen, to remain safe everywhere, so why bother with her appearance or being social? She is shy enough round people that she is viewed as invisible at best and a freak at worst at her school. She has a rocky relationship with her fitness-and-sports-junkie parents, who are well-meaning but frustratingly out-of-touch, and she has nothing in common with her two outgoing and cheeky younger brothers, Sully and Church, so she doesn't pay much mind to what they do. Though she'll come to realize how much she doesn't know about her own family, who are only human like her, and are capable of empathy and care. She didn't know these things beforehand due to her own closed-off existence.
'Monstrous Sea' is what Eliza lives for passionately, and she will work to create new pages for her fans who don't know who she is every week, never breaking routine in three years. I related to her so much in my own horrible school days filled with shyness, loneliness, bullying, secrecy, mood swings and an overactive imagination, that I had to love her, even when her actions don't make much sense. Every introvert is different and views things differently, after all, some more dramatically than others.
Eliza's relationship with Wallace is sweet and meaningful; gradually moving from communicating through notes to talking more and more about themselves. The way they become a romantic pair in the middle of the book feels natural between two incredibly socially-awkward teens. I love the way they are written together - closely, warmly; comforting, as they share what they love (books! I'm in heaven!) and have lost with each other. Funny, tragic Wallace, who has a poet's unpretentious soul, would be another book boyfriend of mine, if not for his own stupid, selfish actions towards the end. This feels minor, however, when reviewing his character and backstory, and how beautiful a boy he is in the beginning and middle.
I don't think it's a spoiler to say that eventually Eliza's secret is outed. Every blurb and book jacket available tells you that's what happens, and it is an obvious development. It just happens in a way that is unexpected. I only wish I understood better why Eliza never tells Wallace that she is LadyConstellation in the months they've been dating. He will likely be thrilled since he loves 'Monstrous Sea' - something they share and talk about constantly, as fans - and he had poured his heart and soul, and risked rejection - which he fears more than anything - in telling her his own dark secret early in their relationship. She still doesn't tell him. It doesn't come across as an issue of courage or anxiety so much as self-indulgence; in spite of Eliza's development throughout the novel, the secret she has kept for so long is nonetheless more important to her than her boyfriend's feelings. Change, no matter how minor, is still too scary for her. Even after everything, she doesn't understand shared trust, nor does she try to. Sometimes Eliza's selfishness can be irritating.
One of the things in this book that reflects reality in fandom all too well is Eliza observing how shocked and disappointed some online users are to find out that LadyConstellation is a girl. When her name is LadyConstellation, and her avatar drawing is of a female. It's telling of how trolls only love to complain, since if it turned out the creator of 'Monstrous Sea' is a boy, homophobic insults would fill up comment sections and Twitter feeds fast and loud, leaving room for nothing else. They are not only bored, lonely, fragile and insecure enough to hate things considered girly and therefore weak - they hate women, the easy targets of their problems, for creating and expressing themselves in any way, but especially positively.
There are many other elements, themes and subplots in 'Eliza and Her Monsters' I could talk about. For example, the very interesting one about Olivia Kane, an author of a popular children's fantasy book series, who quit writing before completing the final installment, and cut herself off from society, nobody knowing what has become of her. It foreshadows Eliza's own anxiety revolving around her responsibility as a popular creator; she and her favourite author are kindred spirits. But I think that readers would fare better in going into this book not knowing everything about it, and coming to their own conclusions. Maybe I've already ruined a lot of the surprises 'Eliza and Her Monsters' has to offer, but I try not to.
It's so good. 'Monstrous Sea' looks and sounds interesting as well. I hope Francesca Zappia goes somewhere else with it in future books, if not a full story centering on it, in comic book or prose form.
A beautiful, charming and serious novel about the connection between reality and art. It is full of real people with real problems, and relationships and friendships online and offline, and the benefits and downsides of both. Does it get overly dramatic and contrived? I don't care. It's a story worth sharing with the world.
Life and art are precious. So is passion. They are so important. Never forget that.
Final Score: 4/5
Non-Fiction Book Review - 'Wicca Moon Magic: A Wiccan's Guide and Grimoire for Working Magic with Lunar Energies (Wicca Books)' by Lisa Chamberlain
A nice, brief introduction to Moon magic, the lunar cycles and the orbital rock's many phases, quarters, correspondences, and all-around energies. I've always been so fascinated by our moon - its influences everywhere, its gravity and magnetic energies happening in seasons all over the earth, its association with Goddesses and feminine power - and reading this is interesting to me.
I also finally understand the differences between a waxing and waning Moon!
Another quick, beginner-friendly, informative read on aspects of Wicca and Witchcraft (plus appropriate spell and ritual suggestions and guidelines) by Lisa Chamberlain.
Final Score: 4/5
I also finally understand the differences between a waxing and waning Moon!
Another quick, beginner-friendly, informative read on aspects of Wicca and Witchcraft (plus appropriate spell and ritual suggestions and guidelines) by Lisa Chamberlain.
Final Score: 4/5
Sunday 20 August 2017
Book Review - 'The Refrigerator Monologues' by Catherynne M. Valente (Writer), Annie Wu (Illustrator)
2021 EDIT: Bloody, boldly brilliant. Feminist as fuck. Hysterically funny, clever and sad, all at once. I could've read it in a day, an afternoon (curse you work post-lockdown!). I still maintain my deeply held belief that 'The Refrigerator Monologues' needs to be made into an adult animated film. It was made for it. At the very least a comic book adaptation. Superhero fiction needs more stories like this.
What else can I say, I love it.
Final Score: 5/5
Original Review:
OMFG.
This needs to be made into a film. I'm dead serious. An animated film for adults that will win countless awards, mixing different styles into its anthology storytelling. No censorship, no limits.
'The Refrigerator Monologues' is art itself. Grim, gruesome, disturbing, truthful, and a hell of a thrill ride art. It can be sensationally devoured in one day. It's magic for the mature and righteous justice seeker at heart.
Catherynne M. Valente, who I've come to admire more and more as a fantasy trickster genius and subversion monarch that Neil Gaiman wishes he was, examines the ever-constant "Women in Refrigerators" trope in superhero media, first coined by Gail Simone, and gives it the beating it deserves. By telling six anthology tales from the points of view of the fridged women, who in the afterlife, known as Deadtown, come together for coffee at the Lethe Cafe to tell their stories; something they never got the chance to do when they were alive as superheroes or the girlfriends of superheroes. Their stories, to their dismay, were actually the stories centering on male characters.
These women were the backstories; their deaths or write-offs were for moving forward the plots of the male heroes. They existed as prototypes; cautionary tales to be tossed aside - killed horrifically - and then forgotten, whilst "good girls" or good girlfriends get to live longer, because they know their place: stay at home in the background and let the men handle things, like saving the world. Strong women can't handle power and responsibility, according to uneasy, scared, and fragile masculinity, and so death and obscurity are their punishments.
Well, the members of the Hell Hath Club at Lethe Cafe say fuck that shit. They are themselves, they are together, sharing tragedies, and booze and cigarettes. Dead and don't give a fuck, that's their motto. They were interesting when alive, but were ignored and unappreciated, stuck in the shadows of uncaring men. Now their stories - their lives, their feelings - can be listened to.
Girl power, unapologetic.
The women of 'The Refrigerator Monologues', whose stories they share with each other, are based on famous fridged women in existing comics: such as Paige Embry is Gwen Stacey, Julia Ash is Jean Grey, Pauline "Pretty Polly" Ketch is Harley Quinn, Bayou is Aquaman's wife Mera, Samantha Dane is the original woman in the refrigerator, Alexandra DeWitt, etc. Valente deconstructs their stories - revolving around the men in their lives - to reveal the double standards and unfairness in them.
A lot of superhero comics do treat their female characters appallingly; a sad truth in a medium catered to male power fantasies - an image people are still trying to shake off to this day. But 'The Refrigerator Monologues' ain't about that shit: the women in this book, who are famous for being dead or "crazy", they swear, love punk, have lots and lots of sex, do drugs, have prestigious careers (or they used to), were royalty, are smart and resourceful, and are well aware of toxic masculinity, double standards and the misogynistic Madonna/Whore dichotomy. They are never ashamed, as they shouldn't be.
Too bad Fate, cosmic interference, or just plain bad writing never give them the chance they so deserve. Make no mistake: these females from superhero universes - from any universe - were being abused by men. Used as commodities and objects to be beaten around, verbally and physically assaulted, killed, and stuffed away, no fucks given; all for the rage wars between insecure, too-powerful men. Now the fridged ladies are fighting back, by, again, just being their own individual selves. No violence is necessary.
The Hell Hath Club have each other in Deadtown, an eternity that tries to catch up and entertain the dead daily in the eternal night, where gargoyles occupy their time as bartenders, baristas, and band members. It's even mentioned that women from ancient times, like Medea and Helen of Troy, used to form the Club. Linking to how superheroes are the modern day mythology; important in popular culture, never mind that they are fictional.
Paige, Julia, Pauline, Bayou, Daisy Green (aka porn star Delilah Daredevil), and Samantha: totally different women in different yet narratively-similar circumstances, come to support one another. To pull each other free from the refrigerator. To make their own happy endings, together.
Aside from a few confusing moments in a nonlinear structure, and nothing being said about other women in the Hell Hath Club, and therefore more stories are in desperate need to be heard (sequel, please?), 'The Refrigerator Monologues' is a modern masterpiece, deserving universal attention. Anyone who loves superheroes and superhero properties and feminism must check it out. It is fantastically entertaining and creative as well as thought-provoking.
I haven't read 'The Vagina Monologues', and maybe I will, if it is as good as this work that it inspired.
All in all, all I've got left to say is:
Thank you, Catherynne M. Valente.
Thank you, Gail Simone.
Thank you, Eve Ensler.
Thank you, all the pop culture feminists, writers and activists of the world.
Final Score: 5/5
(Fuck it feels good to give a book five stars. It's been too long!)
EDIT: I have now read 'The Vagina Monologues' - no surprise that such an important feminist cultural milestone inspired this masterpiece, which can easily be viewed as its own independent thing regardless.
What else can I say, I love it.
Final Score: 5/5
Original Review:
OMFG.
This needs to be made into a film. I'm dead serious. An animated film for adults that will win countless awards, mixing different styles into its anthology storytelling. No censorship, no limits.
'The Refrigerator Monologues' is art itself. Grim, gruesome, disturbing, truthful, and a hell of a thrill ride art. It can be sensationally devoured in one day. It's magic for the mature and righteous justice seeker at heart.
Catherynne M. Valente, who I've come to admire more and more as a fantasy trickster genius and subversion monarch that Neil Gaiman wishes he was, examines the ever-constant "Women in Refrigerators" trope in superhero media, first coined by Gail Simone, and gives it the beating it deserves. By telling six anthology tales from the points of view of the fridged women, who in the afterlife, known as Deadtown, come together for coffee at the Lethe Cafe to tell their stories; something they never got the chance to do when they were alive as superheroes or the girlfriends of superheroes. Their stories, to their dismay, were actually the stories centering on male characters.
These women were the backstories; their deaths or write-offs were for moving forward the plots of the male heroes. They existed as prototypes; cautionary tales to be tossed aside - killed horrifically - and then forgotten, whilst "good girls" or good girlfriends get to live longer, because they know their place: stay at home in the background and let the men handle things, like saving the world. Strong women can't handle power and responsibility, according to uneasy, scared, and fragile masculinity, and so death and obscurity are their punishments.
Well, the members of the Hell Hath Club at Lethe Cafe say fuck that shit. They are themselves, they are together, sharing tragedies, and booze and cigarettes. Dead and don't give a fuck, that's their motto. They were interesting when alive, but were ignored and unappreciated, stuck in the shadows of uncaring men. Now their stories - their lives, their feelings - can be listened to.
Girl power, unapologetic.
The women of 'The Refrigerator Monologues', whose stories they share with each other, are based on famous fridged women in existing comics: such as Paige Embry is Gwen Stacey, Julia Ash is Jean Grey, Pauline "Pretty Polly" Ketch is Harley Quinn, Bayou is Aquaman's wife Mera, Samantha Dane is the original woman in the refrigerator, Alexandra DeWitt, etc. Valente deconstructs their stories - revolving around the men in their lives - to reveal the double standards and unfairness in them.
A lot of superhero comics do treat their female characters appallingly; a sad truth in a medium catered to male power fantasies - an image people are still trying to shake off to this day. But 'The Refrigerator Monologues' ain't about that shit: the women in this book, who are famous for being dead or "crazy", they swear, love punk, have lots and lots of sex, do drugs, have prestigious careers (or they used to), were royalty, are smart and resourceful, and are well aware of toxic masculinity, double standards and the misogynistic Madonna/Whore dichotomy. They are never ashamed, as they shouldn't be.
Too bad Fate, cosmic interference, or just plain bad writing never give them the chance they so deserve. Make no mistake: these females from superhero universes - from any universe - were being abused by men. Used as commodities and objects to be beaten around, verbally and physically assaulted, killed, and stuffed away, no fucks given; all for the rage wars between insecure, too-powerful men. Now the fridged ladies are fighting back, by, again, just being their own individual selves. No violence is necessary.
The Hell Hath Club have each other in Deadtown, an eternity that tries to catch up and entertain the dead daily in the eternal night, where gargoyles occupy their time as bartenders, baristas, and band members. It's even mentioned that women from ancient times, like Medea and Helen of Troy, used to form the Club. Linking to how superheroes are the modern day mythology; important in popular culture, never mind that they are fictional.
Paige, Julia, Pauline, Bayou, Daisy Green (aka porn star Delilah Daredevil), and Samantha: totally different women in different yet narratively-similar circumstances, come to support one another. To pull each other free from the refrigerator. To make their own happy endings, together.
Aside from a few confusing moments in a nonlinear structure, and nothing being said about other women in the Hell Hath Club, and therefore more stories are in desperate need to be heard (sequel, please?), 'The Refrigerator Monologues' is a modern masterpiece, deserving universal attention. Anyone who loves superheroes and superhero properties and feminism must check it out. It is fantastically entertaining and creative as well as thought-provoking.
I haven't read 'The Vagina Monologues', and maybe I will, if it is as good as this work that it inspired.
All in all, all I've got left to say is:
Thank you, Catherynne M. Valente.
Thank you, Gail Simone.
Thank you, Eve Ensler.
Thank you, all the pop culture feminists, writers and activists of the world.
Final Score: 5/5
(Fuck it feels good to give a book five stars. It's been too long!)
EDIT: I have now read 'The Vagina Monologues' - no surprise that such an important feminist cultural milestone inspired this masterpiece, which can easily be viewed as its own independent thing regardless.
Graphic Novel Review - 'Spider-Girl: Legacy' by Tom DeFalco (Writer), Pat Olliffe (Artist)
"Spider-Girl! Spider-Girl!
Don't she make your little head twirl!
My little, brown-eyed Spider-Girl!
She does one heck of a spider twirl!
Hey there! There goes that Spider-Girl!"
- Page 25
Been going back and forth on purchasing this for years. Even when I finally decided to buy it, I wasn't expecting much. Read it, rate it, and move on, only occasionally remembering that it exists.
However, 'Spider-Girl: Legacy', for all its cliches, manages somehow to be a fun little comic regardless.
Set in Marvel Alternate Reality #1021, where Peter Parker and Mary-Jane Watson did live happily ever after (more or less), and have a daughter named May "Mayday" Parker. May is a high school teen who looks like a botox-overloaded Ruby Wax, thanks to the rather ugly artwork, but she's also a straight-A student, a basketball champion, and a quick-quipper and witter like her father. That's not the only thing she's inherited from him, either. She possesses the Spidey-sense and other powers, like super strength and agility, conveniently awakened once in high school (a lightning rod for superpower geneses and hero origin stories).
One night, to save her friends and parents from a Green Goblin descendant (there's a lot of them, apparently), May changes into the old famous costume and straps on the web cartridges of Spider-Man - whom she had just recently found out was her lawyer father, who quit the superhero life after a battle-to-the-death with one of the Green Goblins, losing his leg in the process. He chose to always be there for his new family after such a tragedy; both sides of his life are filled to the brim with great responsibilities on his shoulders.
Even after the Parker family burns any trace left of Spider-Man's legacy to keep May safely away from further superhero temptation, she fights crime secretly at night, taking up a lost mantel and earning the name Spider-Girl (she puts together a different, makeshift costume design at first). She grew up learning all about great power and great responsibility from her parents, and now that responsibility extends beyond her family and school life. This is through her choice alone, propelled by a sense of justice to protect innocents. And her loved ones.
Will the older and jaded Peter understand again what was once his in his youth, and willingly pass the torch? Will he come to accept his young daughter for who she wants to be, no matter how dangerous some choices are, the responsibility being hers? Well, this is May Parker as the Spider-hero here; this is her story, not his. Hypocritical parents are a given in these Generation X types of stories anyway, and at least Peter Parker is only a slightly better father than Harry Potter.
'Spider-Girl: Legacy' is kind of hackneyed and episodic in nature - hero juggling family and school drama with fighting bad guys who don't make much impact until the final issue - but that nature is a good one. The characters at play make it all seem fresh and exciting, even with some dated, cringe-worthy early-2000s dialogue. The comic is saturated, high-blood-sugar level, with fanservice by way of classic Spider-Man villains and Marvel heroes such as the Fantastic Four (the new generation Fantastic Five, here, where Reed Richards is a floating brain in a machine), and Daredevil (Darkdevil, here. Pretty lame, and, for all the potential he serves as Spider-Girl's nemesis and/or mentor, is ultimately inconsequential). It's a candy-coated style of fun, and given how pedestrian and mostly unappealing the artwork is, that's quite an accomplishment. There's a magic medallion that turns a man into a dragon in an issue, because of course they'd fit that in somewhere.
May Parker, once one gets used to her design that makes her look older than her parents, is a cool heroine to follow and want to see succeed. Despite some banter, witty lines, and awareness of her own limits and of the dangers of being a crime fighter, she's not too much like Peter that she's just a female version of her famous father. Personal, and relatable even if a young reader isn't so smart or a basketball player. She's athletic, and thinks on her feet: always a plus for a superheroine. Heck, she unashamedly crushes on more than one guy (or at least thinks they're cute, scrumptious even) like any teenager would.
Sadly, any challenge Spider-Girl faces in this run won't be the hardest thing that's ever happened to her: getting retconned out of existence years later will. Tragically typical for a superheroine; that this character and her story is destined to become pointless thanks to editorial mandates.
May's school friends are also surprisingly memorable, slowly but surely moving past their early-2000s nerd/jock dichotomy stereotypes. They aren't perfect, like May's hypocritical, occasional valley-girl-spoken best friend Davida, a person of colour, and that works in their favour for interest.
So yeah, 'Spider-Girl: Legacy' is dated and cheesy, but I enjoyed it. It can be touching and thoughtful throughout every issue, amidst the action-packed fun. Mary-Jane gets a few moments of her own to shine, too; a little relief from the stereotypical static, supportive mother/wife role.
I stayed up late to finish all of it, curled up in bed, never wanting to put it down after 1am. Another edition to my superheroine comic book collection.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Don't she make your little head twirl!
My little, brown-eyed Spider-Girl!
She does one heck of a spider twirl!
Hey there! There goes that Spider-Girl!"
- Page 25
Been going back and forth on purchasing this for years. Even when I finally decided to buy it, I wasn't expecting much. Read it, rate it, and move on, only occasionally remembering that it exists.
However, 'Spider-Girl: Legacy', for all its cliches, manages somehow to be a fun little comic regardless.
Set in Marvel Alternate Reality #1021, where Peter Parker and Mary-Jane Watson did live happily ever after (more or less), and have a daughter named May "Mayday" Parker. May is a high school teen who looks like a botox-overloaded Ruby Wax, thanks to the rather ugly artwork, but she's also a straight-A student, a basketball champion, and a quick-quipper and witter like her father. That's not the only thing she's inherited from him, either. She possesses the Spidey-sense and other powers, like super strength and agility, conveniently awakened once in high school (a lightning rod for superpower geneses and hero origin stories).
One night, to save her friends and parents from a Green Goblin descendant (there's a lot of them, apparently), May changes into the old famous costume and straps on the web cartridges of Spider-Man - whom she had just recently found out was her lawyer father, who quit the superhero life after a battle-to-the-death with one of the Green Goblins, losing his leg in the process. He chose to always be there for his new family after such a tragedy; both sides of his life are filled to the brim with great responsibilities on his shoulders.
Even after the Parker family burns any trace left of Spider-Man's legacy to keep May safely away from further superhero temptation, she fights crime secretly at night, taking up a lost mantel and earning the name Spider-Girl (she puts together a different, makeshift costume design at first). She grew up learning all about great power and great responsibility from her parents, and now that responsibility extends beyond her family and school life. This is through her choice alone, propelled by a sense of justice to protect innocents. And her loved ones.
Will the older and jaded Peter understand again what was once his in his youth, and willingly pass the torch? Will he come to accept his young daughter for who she wants to be, no matter how dangerous some choices are, the responsibility being hers? Well, this is May Parker as the Spider-hero here; this is her story, not his. Hypocritical parents are a given in these Generation X types of stories anyway, and at least Peter Parker is only a slightly better father than Harry Potter.
'Spider-Girl: Legacy' is kind of hackneyed and episodic in nature - hero juggling family and school drama with fighting bad guys who don't make much impact until the final issue - but that nature is a good one. The characters at play make it all seem fresh and exciting, even with some dated, cringe-worthy early-2000s dialogue. The comic is saturated, high-blood-sugar level, with fanservice by way of classic Spider-Man villains and Marvel heroes such as the Fantastic Four (the new generation Fantastic Five, here, where Reed Richards is a floating brain in a machine), and Daredevil (Darkdevil, here. Pretty lame, and, for all the potential he serves as Spider-Girl's nemesis and/or mentor, is ultimately inconsequential). It's a candy-coated style of fun, and given how pedestrian and mostly unappealing the artwork is, that's quite an accomplishment. There's a magic medallion that turns a man into a dragon in an issue, because of course they'd fit that in somewhere.
May Parker, once one gets used to her design that makes her look older than her parents, is a cool heroine to follow and want to see succeed. Despite some banter, witty lines, and awareness of her own limits and of the dangers of being a crime fighter, she's not too much like Peter that she's just a female version of her famous father. Personal, and relatable even if a young reader isn't so smart or a basketball player. She's athletic, and thinks on her feet: always a plus for a superheroine. Heck, she unashamedly crushes on more than one guy (or at least thinks they're cute, scrumptious even) like any teenager would.
Sadly, any challenge Spider-Girl faces in this run won't be the hardest thing that's ever happened to her: getting retconned out of existence years later will. Tragically typical for a superheroine; that this character and her story is destined to become pointless thanks to editorial mandates.
May's school friends are also surprisingly memorable, slowly but surely moving past their early-2000s nerd/jock dichotomy stereotypes. They aren't perfect, like May's hypocritical, occasional valley-girl-spoken best friend Davida, a person of colour, and that works in their favour for interest.
So yeah, 'Spider-Girl: Legacy' is dated and cheesy, but I enjoyed it. It can be touching and thoughtful throughout every issue, amidst the action-packed fun. Mary-Jane gets a few moments of her own to shine, too; a little relief from the stereotypical static, supportive mother/wife role.
I stayed up late to finish all of it, curled up in bed, never wanting to put it down after 1am. Another edition to my superheroine comic book collection.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Saturday 19 August 2017
Update August 2017
I hate to talk about trivial things in times of crisis (which anybody with a brain should have seen coming, and those who didn't should not be working in government positions), but sometimes a breather is healthy and necessary.
After happily reading books and graphic novels, such as the surprise of the new 'She-Hulk' and 'Legend of Korra: Turf Wars Part One', maybe the future doesn't look so bleak. Some people do care about others, and do know that empathy should go without saying, that no human is more or less human than others no matter their race, sex, class, background, and orientation. Some people do try to take action, and communicate for change; one effective form is through fiction, which reflects our current reality. I have many more books from 2017 to read, and I'll see if they are also worth it.
I have watched 'Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir', and it shall be one of those cartoons in which I have no interest in continuing past the first season or so. It's not as original or subversive as I'd hoped, but it is something I would have absolutely eaten up as a kid starving for girl power. A somewhat disappointment of a show I should have loved (Magical Girls, superheroines, bugs and cats, come on!), but in terms of progress in children's entertainment, it's okay. Mantra of life: Don't get your hopes up.
Communicating exactly what is going on in one's mind is surprisingly difficult, and this is clear through one's stumbling and awkward speech (the mouth can be a traitor), and writing (so can the hand). Confidence is key, and so is support.
After happily reading books and graphic novels, such as the surprise of the new 'She-Hulk' and 'Legend of Korra: Turf Wars Part One', maybe the future doesn't look so bleak. Some people do care about others, and do know that empathy should go without saying, that no human is more or less human than others no matter their race, sex, class, background, and orientation. Some people do try to take action, and communicate for change; one effective form is through fiction, which reflects our current reality. I have many more books from 2017 to read, and I'll see if they are also worth it.
I have watched 'Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir', and it shall be one of those cartoons in which I have no interest in continuing past the first season or so. It's not as original or subversive as I'd hoped, but it is something I would have absolutely eaten up as a kid starving for girl power. A somewhat disappointment of a show I should have loved (Magical Girls, superheroines, bugs and cats, come on!), but in terms of progress in children's entertainment, it's okay. Mantra of life: Don't get your hopes up.
Communicating exactly what is going on in one's mind is surprisingly difficult, and this is clear through one's stumbling and awkward speech (the mouth can be a traitor), and writing (so can the hand). Confidence is key, and so is support.
Sunday 13 August 2017
Non-Fiction Book Review - 'Pirate Women: The Princesses, Prostitutes, and Privateers Who Ruled the Seven Seas' by Laura Sook Duncombe
An intriguing, well-researched book chronologizing the pirate women of history. The heroines and anti-heroines of the Seven Seas: real, made-up, and somewhere in between.
Due to there existing, to this date, virtually no extensive records or documents of the eras of pirating and privateers pre-20th century - much less any concrete information concerning female pirates - the line between fact and fiction is extremely blurred on these swashbuckling, freedom-loving, leaves-no-prisoners outlaws of the perilous world of the sea. Laura Sook Duncombe does preface that any research on the pirate women she discusses in her book should be taken with a grain of salt, and that as a lover of pirates she tries to give as much information as she can find, taken from sources that by are all accounts credible, vague and dubious, all at once. With a frustrating lack of founded evidence for this particular area of historical interest, some bias and guesswork is expected. Myths and legends can hold truths to them, as well.
In 'Pirate Women: The Princesses, Prostitutes, and Privateers Who Ruled the Seven Seas', the reader learns about Queen Artemisia I of Halicarnassus, Queen Teuta, the Viking Ladgerda, Norse Princess Alfhild, Jeanne de Monfort, Jeanne de Clisson, Sayyida al-Hurra of the Barbary corsairs (ruler of the western Mediterranean for twenty years and consort to the sultan of Morocco), Lady Mary Killigrew, Grace O'Malley (Pirate Queen and enemy/rumoured friend of Queen Elizabeth I), Anne de Graaf, Anne Bonny, Mary Read, Charlotte de Berry, Margaret Jordan, the bloodthirsty Maria Cobham, Mary Ann Townsend (rumoured wife of Blackbeard, real name Edward Teach), Cheng I Sao (aka the most successful pirate of all time), Lai Choi San (possible originator of the dragon lady stereotype, though not by her choice), Cheng Chui Ping (aka Sister Ping, human smuggler and hero of China in the 20th century), and many more.
All these amazing women are barely known in the public consciousness and are almost never talked about in history books, lectures and programs, despite them having lived fascinating lives filled with worldly influences and both successes and failures; worthy of various film adaptations.
Women have always been complex people yearning for freedom as much as anyone else. But history is told by the victors and those in power (read: white men) who would want to keep women "in their place" and remain chaste, weak and subservient creatures existing only as pretty baby-makers, not interested or even capable of having exciting adventures. Nearly all the pirate women listed in this book were married, some more than once, and succeeded in piracy only after the death of a pirate husband. However, that doesn't lessen a doubloon of their awe-aspiring existence, as they sailed ships, commandeered fleets, organized crime waves, looted, pillaged treasure, deceived, and even murdered onshore and at sea.
Duncombe writes about the ages of piracy and how it came about. She details the different boats used, the regimes, the contrasting piratical and naval conditions (pirates' lives appear more equal and free in their democracies), and other products of the pirate women's times. Restrictions based on gender would only make them want the life of an outlaw even more. Though Duncombe does go off topic sometimes in describing various aspects of piracy before getting into the bones - the nitty gritty - of the women and their stories she is meant to be talking about, she is an engaging writer. I was actually immersed in the history lesson, rather than bored out of my skull. To know that women like Grace O'Malley, Cheng I Sao, Lai Choi San, and Cheng Chui Ping existed is exciting and liberating enough, and to learn further about their worlds and how they possibly lived in them is essential to my understanding of them as people, information skewed as it is on verification.
A woman's perspective - an obscured window - into history is a rare jewel, nay, a hidden horde of valuable treasure, in of itself.
It seems my attraction to pirates and pirate women - until a couple of years ago I hadn't known there was ever such a thing, that's how powerful a hold the patriarchy has on history - is not founded on pop culture superficiality alone. A lot of fictional stories about them I find to be surprisingly dull - what a crime, for if there is one thing pirates should absolutely not be, it is boring! - but this non-fiction collection of famous and forgotten pirates is fulfilling to my buccaneering, adventuress-wishing heart.
Duncombe also mentions pirate women that are most definitely fictional and more legendary than fact, such as Jacquotte Delahaye, Gunpowder Gertie and Fanny Campbell, and in her last chapter talks about the tragically few pirate women on the big screen.
There's 'Anne of the Indies' (1951), and one of the biggest box office bombs in cinematic history, 'Cutthroat Island' (1995), which was the reason why Hollywood studios avoided pirate movies - as well as adding another excuse for not making movies about women - until the colossal success of the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' movies from Disney, started in 2003, and is still spawning sequels to this day. Pirate properties aren't making much headway or lasting popularity, however. I also disagree with Duncombe's assessment of the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' first trilogy's only female pirate, Elizabeth Swann; which is positive despite practically every aspect of Elizabeth's pirate life being forced on her, with no choice made on her part, including the vote for her to be the king of the pirates in 'At World's End'. In the same film, Duncombe praises Elizabeth for her given status (again, she has no choice or agency of her own) as captain of a ship by its previous captain as he lays dying, neglecting to mention that that same man tried to rape her not ten seconds beforehand. Elizabeth Swann is mostly a bore, also a target for sexual innuendos, who leaves so much to be desired for the chance to see exciting portrayals of female pirates in pop culture. Plus she's played by Keira Knightley, but that's a negative bias of mine and not a valid criticism.
But oh yo ho ho, what a triumph 'Pirate Women: The Princesses, Prostitutes, and Privateers Who Ruled the Seven Seas' is for me! Not perfect, but it's the best thing a modern pirate and pirate women fan can hope for in receiving as much knowledge about them as is available.
Funny how I had thought that I would rate this feminist text the lowest out of the most recent ones read - it has a low score on Goodreads - but 'Pirate Women' ended up being the only text I like, satisfying me in terms of new, heart-pounding content and engaging writing, coming from a place of love and necessity. These females, for all the risks they took, the sacrifices they made, the storms they weathered, and the brutal, bloody life-and-death situations they went through, cannot be forgotten.
A feminist history book to be preserved for the ages; for the adventuress at heart in every generation. Inspiration from the heart of the sea.
Final Score: 4/5
Due to there existing, to this date, virtually no extensive records or documents of the eras of pirating and privateers pre-20th century - much less any concrete information concerning female pirates - the line between fact and fiction is extremely blurred on these swashbuckling, freedom-loving, leaves-no-prisoners outlaws of the perilous world of the sea. Laura Sook Duncombe does preface that any research on the pirate women she discusses in her book should be taken with a grain of salt, and that as a lover of pirates she tries to give as much information as she can find, taken from sources that by are all accounts credible, vague and dubious, all at once. With a frustrating lack of founded evidence for this particular area of historical interest, some bias and guesswork is expected. Myths and legends can hold truths to them, as well.
In 'Pirate Women: The Princesses, Prostitutes, and Privateers Who Ruled the Seven Seas', the reader learns about Queen Artemisia I of Halicarnassus, Queen Teuta, the Viking Ladgerda, Norse Princess Alfhild, Jeanne de Monfort, Jeanne de Clisson, Sayyida al-Hurra of the Barbary corsairs (ruler of the western Mediterranean for twenty years and consort to the sultan of Morocco), Lady Mary Killigrew, Grace O'Malley (Pirate Queen and enemy/rumoured friend of Queen Elizabeth I), Anne de Graaf, Anne Bonny, Mary Read, Charlotte de Berry, Margaret Jordan, the bloodthirsty Maria Cobham, Mary Ann Townsend (rumoured wife of Blackbeard, real name Edward Teach), Cheng I Sao (aka the most successful pirate of all time), Lai Choi San (possible originator of the dragon lady stereotype, though not by her choice), Cheng Chui Ping (aka Sister Ping, human smuggler and hero of China in the 20th century), and many more.
All these amazing women are barely known in the public consciousness and are almost never talked about in history books, lectures and programs, despite them having lived fascinating lives filled with worldly influences and both successes and failures; worthy of various film adaptations.
Women have always been complex people yearning for freedom as much as anyone else. But history is told by the victors and those in power (read: white men) who would want to keep women "in their place" and remain chaste, weak and subservient creatures existing only as pretty baby-makers, not interested or even capable of having exciting adventures. Nearly all the pirate women listed in this book were married, some more than once, and succeeded in piracy only after the death of a pirate husband. However, that doesn't lessen a doubloon of their awe-aspiring existence, as they sailed ships, commandeered fleets, organized crime waves, looted, pillaged treasure, deceived, and even murdered onshore and at sea.
Duncombe writes about the ages of piracy and how it came about. She details the different boats used, the regimes, the contrasting piratical and naval conditions (pirates' lives appear more equal and free in their democracies), and other products of the pirate women's times. Restrictions based on gender would only make them want the life of an outlaw even more. Though Duncombe does go off topic sometimes in describing various aspects of piracy before getting into the bones - the nitty gritty - of the women and their stories she is meant to be talking about, she is an engaging writer. I was actually immersed in the history lesson, rather than bored out of my skull. To know that women like Grace O'Malley, Cheng I Sao, Lai Choi San, and Cheng Chui Ping existed is exciting and liberating enough, and to learn further about their worlds and how they possibly lived in them is essential to my understanding of them as people, information skewed as it is on verification.
A woman's perspective - an obscured window - into history is a rare jewel, nay, a hidden horde of valuable treasure, in of itself.
It seems my attraction to pirates and pirate women - until a couple of years ago I hadn't known there was ever such a thing, that's how powerful a hold the patriarchy has on history - is not founded on pop culture superficiality alone. A lot of fictional stories about them I find to be surprisingly dull - what a crime, for if there is one thing pirates should absolutely not be, it is boring! - but this non-fiction collection of famous and forgotten pirates is fulfilling to my buccaneering, adventuress-wishing heart.
Duncombe also mentions pirate women that are most definitely fictional and more legendary than fact, such as Jacquotte Delahaye, Gunpowder Gertie and Fanny Campbell, and in her last chapter talks about the tragically few pirate women on the big screen.
There's 'Anne of the Indies' (1951), and one of the biggest box office bombs in cinematic history, 'Cutthroat Island' (1995), which was the reason why Hollywood studios avoided pirate movies - as well as adding another excuse for not making movies about women - until the colossal success of the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' movies from Disney, started in 2003, and is still spawning sequels to this day. Pirate properties aren't making much headway or lasting popularity, however. I also disagree with Duncombe's assessment of the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' first trilogy's only female pirate, Elizabeth Swann; which is positive despite practically every aspect of Elizabeth's pirate life being forced on her, with no choice made on her part, including the vote for her to be the king of the pirates in 'At World's End'. In the same film, Duncombe praises Elizabeth for her given status (again, she has no choice or agency of her own) as captain of a ship by its previous captain as he lays dying, neglecting to mention that that same man tried to rape her not ten seconds beforehand. Elizabeth Swann is mostly a bore, also a target for sexual innuendos, who leaves so much to be desired for the chance to see exciting portrayals of female pirates in pop culture. Plus she's played by Keira Knightley, but that's a negative bias of mine and not a valid criticism.
But oh yo ho ho, what a triumph 'Pirate Women: The Princesses, Prostitutes, and Privateers Who Ruled the Seven Seas' is for me! Not perfect, but it's the best thing a modern pirate and pirate women fan can hope for in receiving as much knowledge about them as is available.
Funny how I had thought that I would rate this feminist text the lowest out of the most recent ones read - it has a low score on Goodreads - but 'Pirate Women' ended up being the only text I like, satisfying me in terms of new, heart-pounding content and engaging writing, coming from a place of love and necessity. These females, for all the risks they took, the sacrifices they made, the storms they weathered, and the brutal, bloody life-and-death situations they went through, cannot be forgotten.
A feminist history book to be preserved for the ages; for the adventuress at heart in every generation. Inspiration from the heart of the sea.
Final Score: 4/5
Saturday 12 August 2017
Graphic Novel Review - 'The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars Part One' by Michael Dante DiMartino (Writer), Irene Koh (Artist)
Miraculous books like this make me want to add a sub-shelf to my Goodreads LBGTQ shelf, called "They actually kiss in this".
It is sad and really not at all surprising that, even today, a lot of the media we consume which boasts of content exploring various sexual orientations, in fact use nothing more than the dreadful and offensive queerbaiting technique, or otherwise resort to subtext: safe, risk-free options whilst still placing heterosexual pairings in the spotlight. And the need to bury the "Bury Your Gays" trope has never been more vital and cannot be ignored any longer. In an age of so-called "progress" and tolerance, the message, though likely unconscious on the writer's part, is nevertheless there in most media: "I and quite a majority of people still think you are wrong for existing. We might intentionally add in a little sexual tension between characters of the same sex, but that's for fanservice only, and we will never really have the secure balls to go anywhere with it, much less commit to a same-sex coupling. So it'll be death, or teasing played for laughs at your expense. No happy ending for you either way. I mean, you're only a very small minority, right? Ain't we progressive? Why aren't you people ever satisfied? Bye!"
Yet here comes a comic for children - a continuation of a Nickelodeon cartoon - that features two bisexual, biracial main female leads kissing each other. On the lips. More than once. It also doesn't ignore or gloss over issues such as coming out to family and friends, and how the couple will work together both internally and externally with all the dangers they face. There is a history of same-sex relationships and how they are viewed in the different nations of the 'Avatar' world, to add to the worldbuilding that couldn't be aired on TV.
'The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars Part One' portrays a more thoughtful, heartfelt and especially explicit LBGTQ relationship than any media for adults I have seen in a long, long time. Just thinking about how gratifying this little comic book could be for any young person reading and who is discovering their feelings regarding own their sexuality that is outside of conservative heteronormality, and working out any confusion, gives me hope for the future. It turns out that in the beloved, fantastical, Asian culture-influenced world of 'The Legend of Korra', most people are accepting of who you are, and who you love. So there shouldn't be any shame or fear of stigma or hate or ignorance anywhere in the real world.
So, yeah, Korrasami! Michael Dante Di Martino promised and delivered beautifully. What I didn't get from the original series, which I am not a gigantic fan of but loved aspects of the last two seasons, I got in 'Turf Wars'. No subtext, no poor, barely-there development to leave me cold: Korra and Asami are officially a couple.
In a plot about turf conflicts (obviously), and tensions between humans and spirits made to coexist, along with themes concerning homelessness, refugees and relocation, this comic's main focus is setting the introduction of the relationship between the headstrong and impulsive Avatar Korra, and the calm, levelheaded and no less determined industrialist and property developer Asami Sato. How they go about it and what it entails. They care for other people in their plights, as well as for each other. It is incredibly sweet.
To see what the graphic novel business has achieved in 2017 what animation aimed at families (and adults, for that matter, at least in a mature way) hasn't quite yet...again, am I too hopeful a sod? Not even in 2016's 'Princess Princess Ever After', which I love, do the main queer characters kiss. This and 'Zodiac Starforce' are huge steps forward.
'The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars Part One' is a very good book in other parts. The artwork is excellent and pretty to look at, capturing the feel of the show identically, if not better. There is action, politics ("I bet if spirits could vote, you'd change your tune!" Korra yells at the disgraced Republic City president), and the other women of 'The Legend of Korra' receive their due, even if they are cameos: the world's best organiser Zhu Li, my favourite little spirit guide Jinora, Chief Lin BeiFong, and the wonderful Kya. Not everybody gets to appear in the 80 pages of Part One, but we shall see in the sequels.
Another thing I find interesting is the revelation that Fire Lord Sozin had decreed a ban on same-sex relationships during his reign. Seeing as he clearly had feelings for Avatar Roku in the original 'Avatar: The Last Airbender' show, I interpret this as both an expression of denial (linked with self-hated and shame; aka internalised homophobia) and a further kind of punishment for Roku, for the unrequited love in this instance.
Spoiler:
Also, Mako's reaction to Korra and Asami coming out is...different, less enthusiastic than everyone else's. Given that he had dated both girls and screwed them over more than once, maybe, on an unconscious level, he views this resolution to the infamous love triangle as a threat to his manhood? A karmic middle finger to him? Again, perhaps this will be explored in the sequels. I hope the writers can still make him interesting without involving anything related to romance.
Spoiler End.
'Turf Wars Part One' misses a point for being too short and not enough characters getting a chance to shine. But it is early days.
Recommended to 'Korra' and non-'Korra' fans alike. To people who love fantasy - spirits, dragons, fantasy action, a diverse array of female characters; as well as race and queer representation this is a dream come true for me - and to people who desperately want to see a glimpse of a bright, hopeful future. For children are our future.
Final Score: 4/5
It is sad and really not at all surprising that, even today, a lot of the media we consume which boasts of content exploring various sexual orientations, in fact use nothing more than the dreadful and offensive queerbaiting technique, or otherwise resort to subtext: safe, risk-free options whilst still placing heterosexual pairings in the spotlight. And the need to bury the "Bury Your Gays" trope has never been more vital and cannot be ignored any longer. In an age of so-called "progress" and tolerance, the message, though likely unconscious on the writer's part, is nevertheless there in most media: "I and quite a majority of people still think you are wrong for existing. We might intentionally add in a little sexual tension between characters of the same sex, but that's for fanservice only, and we will never really have the secure balls to go anywhere with it, much less commit to a same-sex coupling. So it'll be death, or teasing played for laughs at your expense. No happy ending for you either way. I mean, you're only a very small minority, right? Ain't we progressive? Why aren't you people ever satisfied? Bye!"
Yet here comes a comic for children - a continuation of a Nickelodeon cartoon - that features two bisexual, biracial main female leads kissing each other. On the lips. More than once. It also doesn't ignore or gloss over issues such as coming out to family and friends, and how the couple will work together both internally and externally with all the dangers they face. There is a history of same-sex relationships and how they are viewed in the different nations of the 'Avatar' world, to add to the worldbuilding that couldn't be aired on TV.
'The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars Part One' portrays a more thoughtful, heartfelt and especially explicit LBGTQ relationship than any media for adults I have seen in a long, long time. Just thinking about how gratifying this little comic book could be for any young person reading and who is discovering their feelings regarding own their sexuality that is outside of conservative heteronormality, and working out any confusion, gives me hope for the future. It turns out that in the beloved, fantastical, Asian culture-influenced world of 'The Legend of Korra', most people are accepting of who you are, and who you love. So there shouldn't be any shame or fear of stigma or hate or ignorance anywhere in the real world.
So, yeah, Korrasami! Michael Dante Di Martino promised and delivered beautifully. What I didn't get from the original series, which I am not a gigantic fan of but loved aspects of the last two seasons, I got in 'Turf Wars'. No subtext, no poor, barely-there development to leave me cold: Korra and Asami are officially a couple.
In a plot about turf conflicts (obviously), and tensions between humans and spirits made to coexist, along with themes concerning homelessness, refugees and relocation, this comic's main focus is setting the introduction of the relationship between the headstrong and impulsive Avatar Korra, and the calm, levelheaded and no less determined industrialist and property developer Asami Sato. How they go about it and what it entails. They care for other people in their plights, as well as for each other. It is incredibly sweet.
To see what the graphic novel business has achieved in 2017 what animation aimed at families (and adults, for that matter, at least in a mature way) hasn't quite yet...again, am I too hopeful a sod? Not even in 2016's 'Princess Princess Ever After', which I love, do the main queer characters kiss. This and 'Zodiac Starforce' are huge steps forward.
'The Legend of Korra: Turf Wars Part One' is a very good book in other parts. The artwork is excellent and pretty to look at, capturing the feel of the show identically, if not better. There is action, politics ("I bet if spirits could vote, you'd change your tune!" Korra yells at the disgraced Republic City president), and the other women of 'The Legend of Korra' receive their due, even if they are cameos: the world's best organiser Zhu Li, my favourite little spirit guide Jinora, Chief Lin BeiFong, and the wonderful Kya. Not everybody gets to appear in the 80 pages of Part One, but we shall see in the sequels.
Another thing I find interesting is the revelation that Fire Lord Sozin had decreed a ban on same-sex relationships during his reign. Seeing as he clearly had feelings for Avatar Roku in the original 'Avatar: The Last Airbender' show, I interpret this as both an expression of denial (linked with self-hated and shame; aka internalised homophobia) and a further kind of punishment for Roku, for the unrequited love in this instance.
Spoiler:
Also, Mako's reaction to Korra and Asami coming out is...different, less enthusiastic than everyone else's. Given that he had dated both girls and screwed them over more than once, maybe, on an unconscious level, he views this resolution to the infamous love triangle as a threat to his manhood? A karmic middle finger to him? Again, perhaps this will be explored in the sequels. I hope the writers can still make him interesting without involving anything related to romance.
Spoiler End.
'Turf Wars Part One' misses a point for being too short and not enough characters getting a chance to shine. But it is early days.
Recommended to 'Korra' and non-'Korra' fans alike. To people who love fantasy - spirits, dragons, fantasy action, a diverse array of female characters; as well as race and queer representation this is a dream come true for me - and to people who desperately want to see a glimpse of a bright, hopeful future. For children are our future.
Final Score: 4/5
Monday 7 August 2017
Book Review - 'Fairytale Frankie and the Tricky Witch' by Greg Gormley (Writer), Steven Lenton (Illustrator)
A really quick picture book read gets a quick review.
A little girl who loves fairy tales suddenly encounters a princess, a king, a knight, a unicorn, a mermaid, and a talking frog, all in her home, hiding from a witch. This tiny contemporary fairy tale crams in the fantasy stuff it can, quite literally.
'Fairytale Frankie and the Tricky Witch' is simple, colourful, playful, cute, and makes no sense. But that's fairy tales, I guess.
Fun for little kids.
Final Score: 3/5
A little girl who loves fairy tales suddenly encounters a princess, a king, a knight, a unicorn, a mermaid, and a talking frog, all in her home, hiding from a witch. This tiny contemporary fairy tale crams in the fantasy stuff it can, quite literally.
'Fairytale Frankie and the Tricky Witch' is simple, colourful, playful, cute, and makes no sense. But that's fairy tales, I guess.
Fun for little kids.
Final Score: 3/5
Sunday 6 August 2017
Graphic Novel Review - 'She-Hulk, Volume 1: Deconstructed' by Mariko Tamaki (Writer), Nico Leon (Artist), Matt Milla (Colourist)
One of the best depictions of PTSD in a narrative I have seen. 'She-Hulk, Volume 1: Deconstructed' is a superhero comic book with a deep psychological edge packed with relevant social commentary. There isn't much "HULK SMASH!" here - the Hulk herself doesn't actually appear until the last issue - but the hard life lived through by Jennifer Walters is felt by the reader in every page.
Lawyer Jen Walters used to also be known as She-Hulk - aka Shulkie, the big green, smart, wise-cracking, confident, and relatively calm Distaff Counterpart to the Incredible Hulk. She has grown in popularity and respect over the decades, standing out as her own character. But after the events of Civil War II, where Bruce Banner died and Jen barely survived a critical condition and coma, she is not the same person anymore, nor the same Hulk. After nearly dying, she can no longer see the world the same way again. Just leaving her apartment is an effort for her, yet she forces herself back to work, taking in metahuman clients as she used to, trying desperately to pretend that nothing has changed, that she is herself again, with or without her Hulk form.
Jen's particular PTSD, culminating in anxiety and panic attacks, is dangerous to herself and others, for a trigger can set off her Hulk powers and lash out at the world. She listens to cooking programmes on TV and the radio as a coping mechanism, to keep these attacks under control as best she can.
Even though the comic volume's title is 'She-Hulk' (I'd heard it was originally 'Hulk' but was changed for the trade because... familiar brand name? The stupid, sexist comic book industry? Urgh!), Jennifer is referred to as just Hulk in it, which is progress in representation of female superheroes, and in context it makes sense seeing as (=ahem= currently =ahem=) she is the one Hulk left alive in the Marvel Universe. She is grey when she transforms, not green; also unlike before she doesn't completely retain her wits as a Hulk. A callback, or a symbol of what a certain mental illness could look like on the outside when it is not pushed down deeply into the psyche by a stigmatizing society, and has finally been let out?
Either way, 'She-Hulk, Volume 1: Deconstructed' is a damn interesting study. Quiet, with an underlining rage hidden within. Jen is never a rampaging monster; even when going through so much fear and rage, her moral code, her sense of right and wrong, remains unchanged about her.
I admit I've only read a few comics starring She-Hulk (it's here where I first found out she is Bruce Banner's cousin), and she's never been very interesting to me. Her lawyer job, as neat a twist as it is to see a hero like her approach a different way of seeking justice, takes up far too much of her stories and leaves her superheroing as an afterthought, in my opinion. Her supposed sassy persona - written in contrast to Bruce and his alter ego - doesn't really fit with her boring work, which is as mind-numbingly stressful for me to read about as it must be for her to live it.
'Deconstructed', as written by a woman, Mariko Tamaki, changed that, and I truly believed Jennifer Walters to be a real person - as real as a Hulk can be. Even though there is little action in the volume, and little of the gigantic Hulk in it, the slow pacing manages to work in this case because we focus on Jen as a character and how she copes with being "normal" on a day-to-day basis. Her job isn't tedious to read about, and we see more of her life outside of the office. Fresh air, plus a look into her spiraling, tumultuous thoughts and her false optimism projected by herself and others ("Everything will be alright", repeated ad nauseum), any person in her similar situation and position - coming back to life after a trauma - can relate. There are no courtroom scenes (thank Loki), and Jen's struggling to keep her anxiety and PTSD under control - which trigger her Hulk genetics- as her worst memories and fears steadily come back to haunt her, are fascinating to see.
It's a revolutionary testament to how great a portrayal of both a woman and a superhero can and should be in this day and age. A "PC-war" age where great steps are being taken for getting people to view tragically common types of mental illness as being just as serious as any other, more visible illnesses, without stigma or shame.
Hulk's condition, and the new way she sees the cruel, merciless world, reflects that of one of her clients, Maise Brewn, a once happy, healthy woman who became an anxious shut-in, stuck in her metahuman state, after she was attacked and left for dead by a man she had trusted as her aerobics partner. As well as the groundbreaking PTSD and anxiety rep, 'Deconstructed' subtly examines the patriarchy and the many, many ways it breaks and kills women, and takes away their humanity.
Another character who helps Jen along the path to an out-of-reach recovery is her new assistant Bradley, a gay man who is never really seen outside of his job, but he mentions having a boyfriend and he isn't a stereotype who exists sorely to help out the straight main character (I like to call that lazy archetype in stories the "manic pixie gay best friend"), so that's something. Jen's best friend Hellcat makes a cameo on a rooftop to talk to the lawyer, in one of the best drawn introductions of her I've ever seen. We get flashbacks of Bruce, and Captain Marvel visiting her friend in the hospital (thank goodness Carol seems apologetic and back to her old, thoughtful, friendly self after the second Civil War). Every interaction feels natural in 'Deconstructed'.
It is, indeed, one of the smartest, most sensitive, empathetic, tragic, delicate yet heart-pounding and grandly cathartic Marvel comics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Sadly, there is hardly any POC representation, and the one gay character, whilst barely escaping a token status, could have been fleshed out more. I also don't think anything can make me forgive Marvel for cancelling too many of their titles starring minority heroes, such as Mockingbird, and a Black Panther run (just as he is finally going to star in his own movie, too! Idiots), as well as other terrible decisions made for shock value alone ("Hail Hydra", anyone?).
Well, 'She-Hulk, Volume 1: Deconstructed' proves that something good can come out of a major Marvel crossover event. Something original, something better, if Marvel cared enough to try. It made me like Jennifer Walters very much, and I am interested in this new twist, this new direction, on the Hulk.
Psychology, emotion, and seemingly mindless action and destruction - what a big green/grey monster concept can explore in depth, in an adult storyline, as a metaphor for humanity. This comic mixes in these elements and themes together almost flawlessly, subtly, with respect to the readers' intelligence. Without a doubt, it is one of Marvel's best in years.
Final Score: 4/5
Lawyer Jen Walters used to also be known as She-Hulk - aka Shulkie, the big green, smart, wise-cracking, confident, and relatively calm Distaff Counterpart to the Incredible Hulk. She has grown in popularity and respect over the decades, standing out as her own character. But after the events of Civil War II, where Bruce Banner died and Jen barely survived a critical condition and coma, she is not the same person anymore, nor the same Hulk. After nearly dying, she can no longer see the world the same way again. Just leaving her apartment is an effort for her, yet she forces herself back to work, taking in metahuman clients as she used to, trying desperately to pretend that nothing has changed, that she is herself again, with or without her Hulk form.
Jen's particular PTSD, culminating in anxiety and panic attacks, is dangerous to herself and others, for a trigger can set off her Hulk powers and lash out at the world. She listens to cooking programmes on TV and the radio as a coping mechanism, to keep these attacks under control as best she can.
Even though the comic volume's title is 'She-Hulk' (I'd heard it was originally 'Hulk' but was changed for the trade because... familiar brand name? The stupid, sexist comic book industry? Urgh!), Jennifer is referred to as just Hulk in it, which is progress in representation of female superheroes, and in context it makes sense seeing as (=ahem= currently =ahem=) she is the one Hulk left alive in the Marvel Universe. She is grey when she transforms, not green; also unlike before she doesn't completely retain her wits as a Hulk. A callback, or a symbol of what a certain mental illness could look like on the outside when it is not pushed down deeply into the psyche by a stigmatizing society, and has finally been let out?
Either way, 'She-Hulk, Volume 1: Deconstructed' is a damn interesting study. Quiet, with an underlining rage hidden within. Jen is never a rampaging monster; even when going through so much fear and rage, her moral code, her sense of right and wrong, remains unchanged about her.
I admit I've only read a few comics starring She-Hulk (it's here where I first found out she is Bruce Banner's cousin), and she's never been very interesting to me. Her lawyer job, as neat a twist as it is to see a hero like her approach a different way of seeking justice, takes up far too much of her stories and leaves her superheroing as an afterthought, in my opinion. Her supposed sassy persona - written in contrast to Bruce and his alter ego - doesn't really fit with her boring work, which is as mind-numbingly stressful for me to read about as it must be for her to live it.
'Deconstructed', as written by a woman, Mariko Tamaki, changed that, and I truly believed Jennifer Walters to be a real person - as real as a Hulk can be. Even though there is little action in the volume, and little of the gigantic Hulk in it, the slow pacing manages to work in this case because we focus on Jen as a character and how she copes with being "normal" on a day-to-day basis. Her job isn't tedious to read about, and we see more of her life outside of the office. Fresh air, plus a look into her spiraling, tumultuous thoughts and her false optimism projected by herself and others ("Everything will be alright", repeated ad nauseum), any person in her similar situation and position - coming back to life after a trauma - can relate. There are no courtroom scenes (thank Loki), and Jen's struggling to keep her anxiety and PTSD under control - which trigger her Hulk genetics- as her worst memories and fears steadily come back to haunt her, are fascinating to see.
It's a revolutionary testament to how great a portrayal of both a woman and a superhero can and should be in this day and age. A "PC-war" age where great steps are being taken for getting people to view tragically common types of mental illness as being just as serious as any other, more visible illnesses, without stigma or shame.
Hulk's condition, and the new way she sees the cruel, merciless world, reflects that of one of her clients, Maise Brewn, a once happy, healthy woman who became an anxious shut-in, stuck in her metahuman state, after she was attacked and left for dead by a man she had trusted as her aerobics partner. As well as the groundbreaking PTSD and anxiety rep, 'Deconstructed' subtly examines the patriarchy and the many, many ways it breaks and kills women, and takes away their humanity.
Another character who helps Jen along the path to an out-of-reach recovery is her new assistant Bradley, a gay man who is never really seen outside of his job, but he mentions having a boyfriend and he isn't a stereotype who exists sorely to help out the straight main character (I like to call that lazy archetype in stories the "manic pixie gay best friend"), so that's something. Jen's best friend Hellcat makes a cameo on a rooftop to talk to the lawyer, in one of the best drawn introductions of her I've ever seen. We get flashbacks of Bruce, and Captain Marvel visiting her friend in the hospital (thank goodness Carol seems apologetic and back to her old, thoughtful, friendly self after the second Civil War). Every interaction feels natural in 'Deconstructed'.
It is, indeed, one of the smartest, most sensitive, empathetic, tragic, delicate yet heart-pounding and grandly cathartic Marvel comics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Sadly, there is hardly any POC representation, and the one gay character, whilst barely escaping a token status, could have been fleshed out more. I also don't think anything can make me forgive Marvel for cancelling too many of their titles starring minority heroes, such as Mockingbird, and a Black Panther run (just as he is finally going to star in his own movie, too! Idiots), as well as other terrible decisions made for shock value alone ("Hail Hydra", anyone?).
Well, 'She-Hulk, Volume 1: Deconstructed' proves that something good can come out of a major Marvel crossover event. Something original, something better, if Marvel cared enough to try. It made me like Jennifer Walters very much, and I am interested in this new twist, this new direction, on the Hulk.
Psychology, emotion, and seemingly mindless action and destruction - what a big green/grey monster concept can explore in depth, in an adult storyline, as a metaphor for humanity. This comic mixes in these elements and themes together almost flawlessly, subtly, with respect to the readers' intelligence. Without a doubt, it is one of Marvel's best in years.
Final Score: 4/5
Saturday 5 August 2017
Graphic Novel Review - 'Motor Crush, Vol. 1' by Brenden Fletcher (Writer), Cameron Stewart (Writer), Aditya Bidikar (Letterer), Babs Tarr (Artist)
In the (paraphrased) words of Bart Simpson: Why am I just hearing about this now?!
From the comic book writing and art team behind the hipster 'Batgirl' "revamp" and 'Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: Pink', comes a new fun and energized series, 'Motor Crush'. I'm starting this review like a trailer, because the comic needs to be made into a movie. Forget the neverending 'Fast and the Furious' snake-eats-tail beast, 'Motor Crush' is the "extreme sports" story that is legitimately worth talking about, and this is coming from someone who is not interested in sports or racing in the slightest.
'Motor Crush, Vol. 1' is a hell of a ride, fun like a wild, strobe light-filled night out at a rave. Don't let the authors' previous work deter you: This is not for the kiddies, and it is not light in tone. Welcome to a sci-fi World Grand Prix bike racing world consisting of: robot TV cameras and intels; drugs; gangs; illegal night races; imploding bodies; mysterious inhuman beings; a giant, ominous and deadly monolith; and time travel. Style and substance come together beautifully in a meaningful and heartfelt story with strong, three-dimensional and unforgettable characters.
Our main lead is motorbike racing champion Domino Swift, a 23-year-old woman of colour living in her dad's garage and mechanics business. She has a dark secret that is linked to a dark past - she's a mystery even to herself. She will do anything to help her father and her home, and her fame and fortune aren't enough to sustain her needs in this corrupt world; in spite of her shifty actions and deeds throughout the volume, she loves her family dearly.
Domino is a complex creation worth rooting for. She is like a female Will Smith: naturally cool no matter what. I love her relationship with her dad, and her complicated one with her ex-girlfriend, Lola de Carmen, a gorgeous genius mechanic who has financial troubles with big companies of her own. Domino is a lesbian, a Black woman, but that's not all: she uses an inhaler. How's that for inclusion? For a protagonist, at that!
And the comic gives us a cute little robot sidekick with heroic uses near the end, courtesy of Lola. How's that for a bonus?
When people talk about diversity in comics, heck, in anything: this is what they mean. 'Motor Crush, Vol. 1' has a fantastic kickass heroine who happens to be a diverse representation of multiple, real marginalized groups of people.
The story is interesting and intense - there is definitely more going on here than racing. Everything is always moving forward, however, getting more and more invigorating as it reaches the finishing line. The pacing is near perfect, swerving and manoeuvring with each edgy, gritty turn - 'Motor Crush' makes sure you are never bored for a single panel. Acceleration! Velocity!
Dark but with heart. There could have been a little more to it, but it is only the first volume. A solid recommendation from me. You won't regret picking it up.
Final Score: 4/5
From the comic book writing and art team behind the hipster 'Batgirl' "revamp" and 'Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: Pink', comes a new fun and energized series, 'Motor Crush'. I'm starting this review like a trailer, because the comic needs to be made into a movie. Forget the neverending 'Fast and the Furious' snake-eats-tail beast, 'Motor Crush' is the "extreme sports" story that is legitimately worth talking about, and this is coming from someone who is not interested in sports or racing in the slightest.
'Motor Crush, Vol. 1' is a hell of a ride, fun like a wild, strobe light-filled night out at a rave. Don't let the authors' previous work deter you: This is not for the kiddies, and it is not light in tone. Welcome to a sci-fi World Grand Prix bike racing world consisting of: robot TV cameras and intels; drugs; gangs; illegal night races; imploding bodies; mysterious inhuman beings; a giant, ominous and deadly monolith; and time travel. Style and substance come together beautifully in a meaningful and heartfelt story with strong, three-dimensional and unforgettable characters.
Our main lead is motorbike racing champion Domino Swift, a 23-year-old woman of colour living in her dad's garage and mechanics business. She has a dark secret that is linked to a dark past - she's a mystery even to herself. She will do anything to help her father and her home, and her fame and fortune aren't enough to sustain her needs in this corrupt world; in spite of her shifty actions and deeds throughout the volume, she loves her family dearly.
Domino is a complex creation worth rooting for. She is like a female Will Smith: naturally cool no matter what. I love her relationship with her dad, and her complicated one with her ex-girlfriend, Lola de Carmen, a gorgeous genius mechanic who has financial troubles with big companies of her own. Domino is a lesbian, a Black woman, but that's not all: she uses an inhaler. How's that for inclusion? For a protagonist, at that!
And the comic gives us a cute little robot sidekick with heroic uses near the end, courtesy of Lola. How's that for a bonus?
When people talk about diversity in comics, heck, in anything: this is what they mean. 'Motor Crush, Vol. 1' has a fantastic kickass heroine who happens to be a diverse representation of multiple, real marginalized groups of people.
The story is interesting and intense - there is definitely more going on here than racing. Everything is always moving forward, however, getting more and more invigorating as it reaches the finishing line. The pacing is near perfect, swerving and manoeuvring with each edgy, gritty turn - 'Motor Crush' makes sure you are never bored for a single panel. Acceleration! Velocity!
Dark but with heart. There could have been a little more to it, but it is only the first volume. A solid recommendation from me. You won't regret picking it up.
Final Score: 4/5
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