Saturday, March 12, 2016

From Under Mountains #1, by Sloane Leong, Claire Gibson, Marian Churchland, and Ariana Maher

From Under Mountains #1
Publisher: Image Comics
Art and colors: Sloane Leong
Story: Claire Gibson and Marian Churchland
Letters: Ariana Maher
Rating: 3/5 stars, with potential

So this is a new thing I'm trying: quick reviews of single-issue comics. I've picked up a bunch of first issues lately and I'm slogging through them, and I think doing a 100-200 word review for each one will 1) keep me motivated and 2) help me keep track of how I felt about all of these once I'm done, and see which ones I want to keep an eye on or add to my pull list.

I picked up From Under Mountains #1 because I like Image comics, the art looked vibrant, and I liked the setting. Once I opened it, I noticed the all-female creative team, which I like, a lot. It's hard to find a comic with even one woman involved so this is a grand slam.

Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot here to keep me interested. The art was bright and bold and I love the use of colors and layout in the first third of the book, but after the first spirit-summoning sequence, all of the backgrounds were flat and monochrome, which left me visually bored. The body and face proportions seemed off in some of the panels, too - little details not quite in the right place.

There is some potential in the story and characters, but there's an awful lot of info-dump-y dialogue paired with those flat-background panels. Looking at it now, the art and story are at their best when they rely mostly on visual action and less on dialogue. It's hard to tell what the main plot is going to be, but there's a pair of noble siblings (the brother gets to have adventures while his sister stays at home),  some women summoning lethal spirits, a drunk would-be assassin, and a scruffy hero. Some of the scene changes (and plot-line introductions) feel a little disjointed, and I had a hard time keeping track of what was happening and who was who. It feels like there's a rich mythology behind this, but that it didn't quite get conveyed in the telling.

Still, I'm intrigued enough that I might pick up the second issue to see if it improves. When the art is good, it's lovely and uses some great bright jewel tones (which are my favorite), and I suspect in the future the dialogue will flow a little better.

Friday, March 11, 2016

The Killing Jar, by Laurie Penny

"The Killing Jar," by Laurie Penny. Art by Koren Shadmi. From Motherboard, edited by Claire Evans and Brian Merchant.

Published: January 14, 2016
Word count: ~5300
Rating: 3/5 stars

So Motherboard does science fiction. That's news to me, but apparently they've been publishing short fiction for over a year. I've been poking around their website for a while now and I absolutely adore the artwork they use. It looks like a lot of it is done by Koren Shadmi, who did the above art for "The Killing Jar," and who is absolutely killing it. Go check out the link above for some great SF art!

"The Killing Jar" didn't knock my socks off, but it was a good read. The premise is cute: the main character is an intern for a professional serial killer. Oh yeah, and professional serial killers exist, and are encouraged by the government, because serial killing has been designated a Fine Art. It's a tough gig to get, though, so you have to intern and work your way up through the ranks.

Our main character has a knack for killing, and a is pretty darned good at the paperwork that goes along with it. She is repeatedly frustrated by her employer, Tony, who just doesn't get what makes a good serial killer good. He's never in the news, and he can't figure out why - but our main character does. She understands that you need to be creative, you need to go after the right kind of people, and you need to fill out all the paperwork so you can keep killing people.

She also has a roommate, Mona, who dissects frogs, and as a gift covers the main character's walls in dead butterflies.

Like I said, it didn't blow me away, but there are some great moments here. In the culmination of every millennial intern's dreams and the climax of the story, the main character kills her boss and takes his place. She's encouraged by her roommate (and now partner, both romantically and in business), who shows her that she is truly suited for this. You get the feeling that she's a psychopath, or sociopath, but maybe just a frustrated intern.

The prose is clean and functional, and while some short stories fall flat on their neat little premises, this carries it out to a conclusion that is both interesting and logical, and keeps it fun along the way. The professionalism of both the website and the writing is encouraging; I may not have a compelling desire to read more by Laurie Penny (though I would if I came across it), I will definitely be reading more of these Motherboard stories.

Review: The Winged Histories

The Winged Histories The Winged Histories by Sofia Samatar
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Disclosure: I received an e-galley copy of this book from Edelweiss and Small Beer Press.

I went into "The Winged Histories" without reading its companion novel, "A Stranger in Olondria." Sofia Samatar's first book came out three-ish years ago, and I'd heard of it in passing but never picked it up. I love Small Beer Press, though, so between that and the positive buzz I jumped at the chance to review this.

Now, "The Winged Histories" is explicitly not a sequel, but for a large chunk of this book I felt like I was missing something. Much of this review is going to detail what my expectations were based on the back-of-book blurb and my experience at points in the book, and how they didn't quite match up to what the book actually was. As the blurb states, it is the stories of four women - a soldier, a poet, a priestess, and a socialite - and their involvement in a war.

The soldier, Tav, gets the first story, and we're thrown into her life as a warrior right away. This was my first stumbling block: it's difficult to tell what the timeline is in this first story, at least in the beginning. Tav is disoriented and remembering events, and she alternates between short, sequential anecdotes and summary recollections with few cues for the reader. Part of my confusion might have been due to my disjointed reading, and I strongly feel a re-read would solve all of my problems (but not starting the book with this particular sequence might have prevented them, too). Once things settled down and became linear, I had an easier time with it.

The second revelation that helped me cope with the story came from another reviewer as I was skimming reviews, about halfway through. They suggested reading this as if it were four short stories, not one narrative, and that immediately made the story 100% better for me. I thought the book was going to be a slow burn that would encompass Tav's emotional trauma and recovery, paralleling the nation of Kestenya's trauma and recovery during and after the war, mostly focusing on Tav but with the other three women woven into her narrative. And even halfway through, toward the end of the priestess's chapter, I was still expecting the rest of Tav's story. That's not exactly what I got, but from this point on, I was able to adjust my expectations and thoroughly enjoy the book with no qualifications.

So, aside from the confusion, I loved this book. All the characters were beautifully written, compelling, tragic, human. The story is, generally, about a war for Kestenya's independence, led by Tav and her cousin, Dasya. The drama of the story is based largely in the elaborate culture that Samatar has created. Inheritance goes to nephews before sons and nieces before daughters. Dasya is the son of the Telkan, and heir to the throne because he has no male cousins - only Tav and her sister, Siski. Legends of Drevedi - winged vampires who supposedly share a lineage with humans - are the fantastical element lurking in the background, waiting to step forward. The Drevedi are maligned, supposedly extinct, but intertwined with the traditional religion - which has now been outlawed in favor of the Cult of the Stone. The Stone in question is covered in fragments of writings in many different languages, and supposedly fell from the sky to the middle of a desert. All in all, the worldbuilding here is fantastic, rich, and decadently layered - and remarkably fresh and original.

The characters Samatar chose to follow - Tav, Siski, Tav's lover, and the isolated daughter of the high priest of the Cult of the Stone - are all of varying importance in the war for Kestenya's independence and its fallout, ranging from Tav, who leads the charge, to her lover, who comforts her and who doesn't shy away from reminding her of the cost of such a war to the women like her who are left behind. Tav's story, appropriately, is more narrative, but troubled by the trauma of war. Her lover's story is absolute poetry. Siski, the socialite, tells a story of romance and loss of innocence. And the priestess reveals the secrets of the Priest of the Stone, who claims to know secrets of the gods but knows nothing about people. Together they form a portrait of a country that strives for unity and independence but is itself a messy, heterogeneous collection of peoples and beliefs. This is a story about history, and how what 'history' is depends on the perspectives that construct it.

This book also shines in its prose. This is the most elegantly, painfully written fantasy book I've read in years. Samatar's language is subtle but impactful and haunting. She writes poetry, outside of her novels, and it's clear and apparent on every page. She knows the power of a word in the right place and when to hold back, to wait or omit entirely. The result is a treasure where every page is steeped in beauty and emotion.

Overall, this was definitely a challenge, but one that was absolutely worth the effort and perhaps worth more because of it. The characters, the prose, the world-buidling are rich and beautiful and I am itching to pick up "A Stranger in Olondria" as soon as I possibly can. Read this book, even if you're not a fantasy fan, because this is a beautiful book first and a fantasy book second.

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Thursday, March 10, 2016

Review: ODY-C, Vol. 1: Off to Far Ithicaa

ODY-C, Vol. 1: Off to Far Ithicaa ODY-C, Vol. 1: Off to Far Ithicaa by Matt Fraction
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I've talked a lot recently in other reviews about the kinds of things I particularly enjoy in comics - weird narrative structure, experimental page layouts, abstract and non-representational art with bright colors - and "ODY-C" hits all those marks and more! I was hooked the moment I read the description: it's a re-telling of the Odyssey, in space, and all the characters are women. And it's such a blast!

I'm going to start with the artwork, because I've already mentioned it and because it's the most immediately striking thing about this story. The colors are incredibly vibrant and alive, and they melt into each other or clash forcefully against each other as the story demands it. Christian Ward has done an amazing job creating art that stands beautifully and powerfully on its own but also serves and uplifts the story. There is often little dialogue on a page, and the art alone tells large parts of the story. Character design (and world design) is fabulous. Most of the characters are women, but their physicality and gender presentation vary wildly (and gloriously). Hera has a beard. Zeus is large, insisting on taking up as much space as the head of the gods deserves. The characters (usually) are clear and distinct (with some exceptions, see below). Some of the character designs remind me of Moebius, which is high praise coming from me. There are almost no traditional comic panels in the story. Ward does some amazing things with concentric circle layouts that are simply stunning. The flexible and non-linear layouts add to how weird and trippy this whole story feels.

I'm enjoying the story quite a bit, too. I'll admit that it's sometimes difficult to get through, because while the overall story mirrors the Odyssey, that provides more of a general structure and many of the specifics are original (or very loose interpretations of the original story). So often, my rusty knowledge of the Odyssey is more of a hindrance than a help, because those expectations are subverted or diverted to a different direction. Other reviewers have mentioned difficulty with the language, as well, and there are times when it is hard to understand what's happening. Generally, I followed the story pretty well. There were some scenes I puzzled over, moved on, and understood in retrospect. There are others where I think I know what happened, but am genuinely not sure (though a re-read or going back to the scene would have helped). Most of the confusion stems from the combination of abstract, poetic Homeric language with sci-fi plotlines, but some also comes from the difficulty keeping track of some of the characters. Their names are often substantially changed from their original Greek, and in at least one instance I confused two of the non-Zeus gods and am still unsure who is who. The confusion and difficulty are what knocked this down from a home-run five-star story to four stars, but I suspect as the story continues (as I get used to the prose, as characters get more established, and I get myself the cliff notes for the Odyssey) this will get easier.

The characters themselves are, as in the Odyssey, not necessarily the kind of characters you warm up to, find compelling, and eagerly await their whole life story. The gods get some personality, and Fraction has given Odyssia more grounding, more personal and emotional depth than Homer ever bothered with Odysseus. Otherwise, it's a grand narrative with larger-than-life events, and with more narration than dialogue, so it's not particularly character-driven. But that's okay; that works here, because it's like the Odyssey in that regard and the story choices complement that decision.

And often, it's the small choices here that make the story great. Hera's beard - I love it. Odyssia captains her ship through literal willpower and mental synchrony with her subordinates; if anyone is not in general coordination with the rest of the crew, the ships can be thrown dangerously off course, and only Odyssia has the force of will to command the ship. Fraction mirrors the Odyssey by frequently using wolf metaphors to refer to Odyssia. Circe is a space pirate. The jealousy and pettiness of the gods (though certainly not unique to this telling) was delightful. There's a lot to love in the small moments, and it shows that Fraction and Ward know how to tell a good story.

The concept itself is pretty great, and Fraction has woven a neat little SF premise into the story beyond the whole 'set in space' conceit. Zeus has cursed humans and made it so no male creature can exist. Humans are trying to get around this in various ways - gender-neutral people, and one old man creepily tries to father sons on young woman after young woman - and it appears that Odyssia's child, as in the Odyssey, is a young man. I'm excited to see where that plotline will go, because it's such a clear departure from the original text. I'm excited to read more of this in general, and I definitely recommend it if you want an SF comic that's both a challenge and a delight.

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Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Review: Invisible Republic, Vol. 1

Invisible Republic, Vol. 1 Invisible Republic, Vol. 1 by Gabriel Hardman
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

"Invisible Republic" isn't my typical choice for SF graphic novels or comics. I like flashy, bright, colorful art and tend toward stories that play around with narrative structure. "Invisible Republic" is darker, grittier, and has a straightforward story - but both the art and the story have such a tight focus that it's a gripping read. The 'what if...' at the core of this SF story isn't particularly wild: what if the disenfranchised people of a colonized moon took power, and then potentially damning information about their leader threatens to leak after he is deposed? The story follows two threads, one in the 'present' and one, told through the journal of his young cousin, about the rise of a populist dictator.

I'm not sure what the stakes are in the present-day part of this story line, as the dictator - Arthur McBride - has already either died or been deposed, marking the end of the Malory Regime, and the economic/political scene is already in chaos. A journalist has discovered a journal written by McBride's cousin, Maia Reveron, that begins with McBride's murder of two soldiers, kicking off the story of his rise to power. I'm a little muddy on the exact politics in either of the story arcs. I think that at the beginning of the earlier story, they live on a moon that was settled prior to FTL travel and so was fairly rural and poor, but now that FTL exists and there are new, higher-tech powers settling the moon, there is conflict between the original and new settlers. I think. Either way, there's a dearth of clear sci-fi elements in the story which was kind of disappointing for me as an SF fan. I suspect we'll see more of those, though, as the story continues. Still, the story is the most compelling aspect of this volume, and I'm eager for more.

Although the characters are the vehicle for the story here, and in fact the story is essentially the story of two people and the journalist covering them, the characters really take a backseat to the politics, and aren't particularly memorable. Maia is a promising lead, and I enjoyed her sojourn into beekeeping, but I have no idea what makes her Maia - I don't know her desires, what she enjoys, any character ticks or traits. Same goes for pretty much all the rest of the characters (with the partial exception of McBride, because we know he wants power and we're also supposed to be unsure of his motivations).


I mentioned before that the art is not my typical style. I like abstract art, things that aren't super representational. In that respect, "Invisible Republic" strikes an okay balance for me, because the art style is pretty loose and sketchy. The rough edges and unfinished quality fit the feel of the story, which is nice. I liked the visual distinctions between the storylines - mostly in terms of color, with brighter colors for the past - but I'm not sure they were entirely intentional, since much of the earlier storyline takes place in rural places while the later one is entirely in the urban centers.

Overall, I enjoyed this and I will probably pick up another volume if I stumble across it, but I'm not sure how good a grip I'll have on the plot, politics, and characters at that point, because even now it's hazy and muddy for me.

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Sunday, March 6, 2016

Review: Star Wars: Darth Vader, Vol. 1: Vader

Star Wars: Darth Vader, Vol. 1: Vader Star Wars: Darth Vader, Vol. 1: Vader by Kieron Gillen
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I loved the Star Wars EU, so I was pretty sad when they de-canonized them (for months, I teared up every time I saw a bunch of them on a shelf at the library or bookstore). But I was also cautiously hopeful - maybe we'd get new stories that were more inclusive, or maybe as fun as the old ones with a more professional shine to them! Then we'd have two great universes to read in! But honestly, the tone of the EU that I loved, the craziness and campiness and never-ending space opera, was the result of individuals who loved Star Wars. There were some real out-there stories, some terribly bad stories, but they were usually bad because people took risks and they failed. It was fans who made the old EU happen, because they loved it, and the EU grew from the bottom up. And the new novels are entirely the result of top-down story direction, with Disney deciding what plots and character types to include so they can market the books to as wide an audience as possible, and "obsessive, life-long, passionate Star Wars fans who loved the EU" is a very niche audience. You can see it in the recurring bland character types they use for every truly new character. They won't have any Starcaves or MindHarps or Sun Crushers (oh wait...), but I think it will take a while for the books to get back to the beloved, well-worn feel of the old EU, if they ever do. I think it would require Star Wars falling out of the public consciousness for a long time, and there's no way Disney's going to let that happen if it can still make them money.

(Above taken from a comment I made on reddit.com/r/StarWars to provide some context for my feelings).

So, obviously, I've been disappointed by so much of the new EU. But this first volume of the Star Wars: Darth Vader comic has finally given me a new hope for the future of the new canon! For the first time, we get some crazy, strange ideas that aren't slick, consumer-tested plots and characters guaranteed to offend no one, or re-packaged ideas from the original trilogy. And, like in the old EU, I'm not sure these ideas do work - but I'm so excited to see how they work out! There's a woman who's draws heavily on Indiana Jones, an archaeologist-turned-thief who gets recruited to work for Vader himself. And on top of all of that, they're mucking about in the plotlines directly relevant to the original trilogy! Palpatine has a secret group of apprentices(? maybe?), beings trained and scientifically augmented to be weapons that don't necessarily draw on the force. There are psychopathic twins, a person who controls a swarm of flying robots - this is weird shit, folks, and it's all happening during the original trilogy. It's glorious. I want all Star Wars to be like this again.

The story also continues the new EU theme of Vader's ambivalence toward his role as Palpatine's apprentice, and his constant memories of the life he lived before. I don't know yet how I feel about this. In some ways, it makes his conversion in Return of the Jedi make a little more sense, and it provides some character continuity; Anakin doesn't immediately become the monster Vader and change personalities. In others, though, it kind of cheapens the work Luke does throughout the original trilogy. If Vader is doubtful, if Vader has always questioned his choice to embrace the dark side, then Luke's job wasn't actually difficult at all (or at least not as hard as it was made out to be). It definitely works better than in Lords of the Sith, because at this point, Vader's old life has been forcibly re-awakened by Luke's entrance into his life.

I'm not a huge fan of the artwork, though. It stays in incredibly safe, well-trodden territory. I like my art weird and symbolic and colorful and abstract, and Star Wars comic art has generally always been fairly iconic and strictly representative (though I like the strange color palettes for some of the pre-Republic tales in the old EU).

I will gladly keep reading this series, because it's kickass. I want to see more of Indiana Jones-lady. I want to see more of Palpatine's insane kill squad. I want more risky, strange, fun stories in the Star Wars universe.

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Review: The Last Witness

The Last Witness The Last Witness by K.J. Parker
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I've been reading as many of these Tor novellas as I can get my hands on. I love this entire publishing endeavor, and I think it's a great effort to get short fiction a wider audience. I'm actually surprised that my local library has so many of them. The only one I'd read previously, "Binti" by Nnedi Okorafor, was an exciting, imaginative, emotional galactic story. I also just finished "Patchwerk" by David Tallerman (review forthcoming), and that was a whirlwind adventure as well.

In comparison, "The Last Witness" doesn't hold its own. It has an interesting premise: there is a man who can steal memories from others' minds and keep them in his own. Over the years, he has accumulated many memories, so many that he has trouble remembering which were his to begin with. But as his memory is muddled, so is much of the story. Tallerman tries to work some creative work with the memory ambiguity, and there were times where it seemed to be working - I was intrigued, I could tell there was something to fish out and I tried to nose it out myself - but the twist introduced at the end of the story was both underwhelming and a little bewildering. For that kind of twist to work well, you need to have that feeling of 'oh! It all makes sense now!' but Tallerman made the clues too subtle (though they're definitely there, just not pointing in any direction) for that satisfying 'eureka' moment. (Though this might just be a poor reading on my part; I may have to do a re-read and re-evaluate.)

This secret plot was so well hidden that it was completely lost under the surface plot, and I have to say that this cover plot was not particularly compelling. The main character gambles, loses his money, earns more money, gambles again. He gets himself embroiled in politics. He tries to leave the politics, but gets sucked back in. Meh. I didn't care about him or his problems at all.

I will say that the final arc of the story and the last couple of scenes were full of some delicious vengeance, a vengeance I enjoyed reading and (had the rest of the novella built up to it) should have been immensely satisfying. There is a confrontation between two characters who have a history that one knows nothing about, and the sheer pain, hatred, and piteousness in that confrontation had me cackling in delight.

Overall, I'm not a huge fan, but there was definitely some substance to this novella that may require a re-read for me to appreciate fully.

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