Make no mistake about it, Parker is not a good guy. He is a criminal who has been double crossed by his partner and by the woman he loves. "Parker: The Hunter," Darwyn Cooke's graphic adaptation of the first novel in Donald Weslake's series about Parker, is a smashing introduction to this character. The classic setup, a betrayed man seeking vengeance, does nothing to diminish the freshness of the character and of Cooke's approach to him.
Cooke, familiar to comics readers as the writer/ artist of "Catwoman: Selina's Big Score," "The Spirit" and, especially, "DC: The New Frontier," is perfectly suited to this tale. His drawings easily evoke the early 1960s, and the monochromatic palette is perfectly suited to the story.
"The Hunter" is dark, briskly-paced, and told with economy, as a good noir novel should be, and Cooke presents it with panache. As in the Mel Gibson movie "Payback," which was based on this book, we pull for the bad guy because, as bad as he is, he's better than those he fights.
I generally steer clear of graphic adaptations of prose works. It seems to me that they always lack a certain something that made the original work. I have not (yet) read the original novel, but I am left with the sense that, in Cooke's hands, the essence of the novel has been captured. It is telling that this is the first adaptation of a Westlake work that has been allowed to carry the Parker name.
Cooke says Parker will return in summer 2010. I'll be waiting.
16 August 2009
"Men and Cartoons" by Jonathan Lethem
Jonathan Lethem is one of the most distinctive and inventive writers of fiction today. From "Gun with Occasional Music" to "You Don't Love Me Yet," Lethem has shown an uncanny ability to transport readers into a world that, upon reflection, is incredibly strange but at the same time feels right.
"Men and Cartoons," Lethem's second collection of short stories, shows the (many) strengths of his writing, but also the danger in letting his fertile imagination run wild. The nine stories in the book are all beautifully written if uneven.
"The Vision" and "Vivian Relf" show the wistful evocation of earlier times that Lethem used to great effect in his latest, and best known works, "Motherless Brooklyn" and "Fortress of Solitude," as he evokes the follies and foibles of youth and how they hang on into adulthood. Along with "Super Goat Man," there is the powerful undercurrent of regret and nostalgia that haunts his best work.
"The Spray" and "Access Fantasy" tap the same veins, but show the powerful science fiction imagination that fueled Lethem's earlier work and were showed to great effect in his short story collection "The Wall of Sky, the Wall of Eye." The latter story also shows the potential weakness of being so inventive- wonderful ideas not fully realized. Perhaps we are meant to take the existence of the One-Way Permeable Barrier for granted, but a little more on it might have helped the story hang together better.
"The Dystopianist" is an interesting vignette of what might happen were a writer to be visited, even briefly, by his creations. The stark realism with which the story is written stands in relief to the absurdity and surrealism of the story. Other stories in the book, though well-written, failed to leave much impression.
Taken as a whole, "Men and Cartoons" is a wonderful collection of stories by a masterful writer. Readers who have never read Lethem can get a sample of the variety of styles he uses, while old readers can get a Lethem fix.
"Men and Cartoons," Lethem's second collection of short stories, shows the (many) strengths of his writing, but also the danger in letting his fertile imagination run wild. The nine stories in the book are all beautifully written if uneven.
"The Vision" and "Vivian Relf" show the wistful evocation of earlier times that Lethem used to great effect in his latest, and best known works, "Motherless Brooklyn" and "Fortress of Solitude," as he evokes the follies and foibles of youth and how they hang on into adulthood. Along with "Super Goat Man," there is the powerful undercurrent of regret and nostalgia that haunts his best work.
"The Spray" and "Access Fantasy" tap the same veins, but show the powerful science fiction imagination that fueled Lethem's earlier work and were showed to great effect in his short story collection "The Wall of Sky, the Wall of Eye." The latter story also shows the potential weakness of being so inventive- wonderful ideas not fully realized. Perhaps we are meant to take the existence of the One-Way Permeable Barrier for granted, but a little more on it might have helped the story hang together better.
"The Dystopianist" is an interesting vignette of what might happen were a writer to be visited, even briefly, by his creations. The stark realism with which the story is written stands in relief to the absurdity and surrealism of the story. Other stories in the book, though well-written, failed to leave much impression.
Taken as a whole, "Men and Cartoons" is a wonderful collection of stories by a masterful writer. Readers who have never read Lethem can get a sample of the variety of styles he uses, while old readers can get a Lethem fix.
15 August 2009
Philosophy and Death
"I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid."
-- T.S. Eliot
Death haunts me, as it does most of us. Being dead is not a worry. I expect no afterlife, no metempsychosis; death is the obliteration of self. Once I have died, there will be no "me" to register the fact of my demise. Still, there is the final moment, the terminal point where one ceases to be a subject and becomes an object. This is the aspect that frightens me. I cannot- none of us can- imagine non-existence.
Simon Critchley begins his work, "The Book of Dead Philosophers" from this point. Accepting Cicero's dictum that "to philosophize is to learn how to die," Critchley writes of how 190 philosophers spoke about and faced death. His aim is to counter the facile attempts in this modern age to deny the fact of death through "the transitory consolation of momentary oblivion or a miraculous redemption in the afterlife."
It is important to note, especially in the face of a potentially incendiary quote like the one above, that his is not a flat-out denial of an afterlife. His point is that all we can know is that we are living and that, by denying death through consumption or religion, we truncate our lives. Accepting death is the only way to truly live.
So we learn how philosophers faced death. Socrates' argument that death, be it eternal sleep or the reunion with the honored dead, is not to be feared is the logical starting point. Then, following a rough chronology, we encounter the early materialists who preceded Socrates, the Platonists, Epicureans and Stoics who came after him, Romans, Chinese. The common thread is that death is something that cannot be overcome, so it is not to be feared.
There are even entries for members of an obscure group of Jews following a teacher from Galilee. These are perhaps the most interesting in some ways. Those who know only the flavors of Christianity available today forget that, at its base, the faith is all about death. Chritchley accuses most modern Christians of "actually leading quietly desperate atheist lives bounded by a desire for longevity and the terror of annihilation." The central preoccupation of Paul, for instance, is death. It is Paul who tells us how Adam brought death and how Jesus, through his own death, conquered death. St. Anthony pursued his faith by becoming dead to the world, founding Christian monasticism in the process.
I did not intend to dwell on Christianity, but since its presence is so strongly felt, it creates a gravity of its own. The point is that, excepting beliefs in an afterlife, the way someone like Paul faced death was not so different from the way someone like Hume did. The cheerfulness Hume is reported to have shown as he died is akin to the joy expressed in martyrdom accounts. Both show, for different reasons, an acceptance of the fact of death and an understanding that it cannot be avoided.
This is a wonderful book. Chritchley's prose is lively and humorous; there is something of the smart-aleck about him. His argument that we should embrace death as part of life and not dwell morosely on it is bolstered by his presentation. Critchley has me thinking about death differently. Perhaps, instead of pursuing my true love of History, I should have dallied longer with my mistress Philosophy. The consolations (see Boethius) to be found there are more than religion could ever offer me.
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid."
-- T.S. Eliot
Death haunts me, as it does most of us. Being dead is not a worry. I expect no afterlife, no metempsychosis; death is the obliteration of self. Once I have died, there will be no "me" to register the fact of my demise. Still, there is the final moment, the terminal point where one ceases to be a subject and becomes an object. This is the aspect that frightens me. I cannot- none of us can- imagine non-existence.
Simon Critchley begins his work, "The Book of Dead Philosophers" from this point. Accepting Cicero's dictum that "to philosophize is to learn how to die," Critchley writes of how 190 philosophers spoke about and faced death. His aim is to counter the facile attempts in this modern age to deny the fact of death through "the transitory consolation of momentary oblivion or a miraculous redemption in the afterlife."
It is important to note, especially in the face of a potentially incendiary quote like the one above, that his is not a flat-out denial of an afterlife. His point is that all we can know is that we are living and that, by denying death through consumption or religion, we truncate our lives. Accepting death is the only way to truly live.
So we learn how philosophers faced death. Socrates' argument that death, be it eternal sleep or the reunion with the honored dead, is not to be feared is the logical starting point. Then, following a rough chronology, we encounter the early materialists who preceded Socrates, the Platonists, Epicureans and Stoics who came after him, Romans, Chinese. The common thread is that death is something that cannot be overcome, so it is not to be feared.
There are even entries for members of an obscure group of Jews following a teacher from Galilee. These are perhaps the most interesting in some ways. Those who know only the flavors of Christianity available today forget that, at its base, the faith is all about death. Chritchley accuses most modern Christians of "actually leading quietly desperate atheist lives bounded by a desire for longevity and the terror of annihilation." The central preoccupation of Paul, for instance, is death. It is Paul who tells us how Adam brought death and how Jesus, through his own death, conquered death. St. Anthony pursued his faith by becoming dead to the world, founding Christian monasticism in the process.
I did not intend to dwell on Christianity, but since its presence is so strongly felt, it creates a gravity of its own. The point is that, excepting beliefs in an afterlife, the way someone like Paul faced death was not so different from the way someone like Hume did. The cheerfulness Hume is reported to have shown as he died is akin to the joy expressed in martyrdom accounts. Both show, for different reasons, an acceptance of the fact of death and an understanding that it cannot be avoided.
This is a wonderful book. Chritchley's prose is lively and humorous; there is something of the smart-aleck about him. His argument that we should embrace death as part of life and not dwell morosely on it is bolstered by his presentation. Critchley has me thinking about death differently. Perhaps, instead of pursuing my true love of History, I should have dallied longer with my mistress Philosophy. The consolations (see Boethius) to be found there are more than religion could ever offer me.
"Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader" by Neil Gaiman
It seems so long ago that I really liked the work of Neil Gaiman. Like many, I was enthralled by "Sandman" and roundly entertained by "Good Omens." Then came "Neverwhere" and "American Gods," reusing many of the tricks and tropes from his earlier work and I began to doubt his powers. "Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader" has done little to dispel my doubts.
Gaiman writes the story of many deaths of Batman, described by those who knew him best: the villains and allies in his 70-year fight against crime. Two ghostly presences (one of whom is, no surprise, Bruce Wayne) watch and comment on the proceedings. Bruce protests at the beginning that these things didn't happen, but the other presence counsels him to listen.
This is the problem. The other presence might as well have been Death of the Endless, or Dream. One can almost hear Dream telling Queen Mab that a story need not have happened for it to be true. Get a new trick, Neil.
Since this story marks a transition to a new Batman (Bruce Wayne died, or not, in the pages of "Final Crisis") the logical comparison, one which Gaiman alludes to in his introduction, is Alan Moore's wonderful "Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow," which provided a breaking point between the god-like Superman of the 70s and early 80s and John Byrne's re-imagining of the Man of Steel's origins. I re-read the earlier work for this review, and it holds up well, though Moore is a better writer today than he was then.
Moore understands Superman better, I think, than Gaiman understands Batman (I also think Moore gets Batman, but that's not for now). Superman and Clark Kent are coterminous in a way that Bruce Wayne and Batman are not, a point borne out by the fact that Batman endures after the death of Bruce Wayne. Other writers, less talented than Gaiman, have understood this as well.
I have been dwelling so long on the failings of Gaiman that I have said not a word about Andy Kubert's art. The word is WOW! The art is amazing, evocative of the decades of legendary Batman artists like Bob Kane, Neal Adams and Brian Bolland. It makes the book worth reading.
This book has garnered a great deal of acclaim for both Gaiman and Kubert, not least from the New York Times, and one suspects it is a lock for Eisner awards next year. Gaiman will get the same free pass given to writers like Grant Morrison. Doubtless I am on the losing side of this argument, but someone has to speak up. "Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader" is a serviceable story, but one that is not up to his talents and one not suited to the task.12 August 2009
"Mouse Guard: Winter, 1152" by David Petersen
When we last saw the stalwarts of the Mouse Guard, they were facing a cold, hard winter in the aftermath of betrayal by one of their number. In volume one of the series, Fall 1152, David Petersen introduced us to Leiam, Kenzie, Saxon and Sadie of the Guard, their leader Gwendolyn, the mysterious guard known as the Black Axe, and the town of Lockhaven. The Guard is charged with protecting the routes between the mouse towns and with fighting threats against mousekind. The wonderful art (also by Petersen) combined with a rip-roaring action tale to produce one of the most purely fun graphic books I've read in ages.
Petersen does not miss a beat in volume two, Winter 1152. The Guard, charged with requesting supplies from other towns so Lockhaven can last the winter, is scattered across the icy landscape. There they face all manner of threats and through these, bits of mouse history are revealed. Petersen succeeds in immersing the reader in the world of the Guard, creating bizarre and beautiful worlds. This is the kind of thing graphic media does best.
Who lives? Who dies? What is the nature of the new threat facing Lockhaven? I don't wish to give anything away, suffice it to say that nothing is a throwaway, and the consequences of past actions seem likely to linger into the future. While there are some things that seem predictable about this series, there is much that is surprising as well. Petersen's imagination and improving (!) artwork make this worth a read. One can only hope that Spring, 1153 is on the way.
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