Watched Inception over the weekend. Amazing!

Also watched the first couple episodes of “Louie.” Greatness. And thus Louis CK gets added to the pile of people to whom my wife compares me (a distinguished list that also includes Ricky Gervais and Larry David). I just have more hair.

I’m like Serpentor, if his DNA had been culled from and hilariously awkward comedians.

Reading-wise, I just finished up Michael Moorcock’s A Nomad of the Time Streams trilogy. It was a quick read, and a lot of fun. The stories get increasingly darker as you progress through the three books, which are essentially Moorcock’s deconstruction of Imperialism. I highly recommend them.

I’m chugging through China Miéville’s The Scar now, and it is as usual incredible. I picked up another fantasy book, a new book by a new writer (I think) at the same time, purely on impulse, but didn’t make it far. I will itemize the following rules for prospective fantasy writers:

• I should be able to tell the difference between the name of a person and the name of a city, artifact, or creature.
• There should not be a made-up word in every single paragraph.
• I no longer care about royalty (did I ever, I wonder?) or who/whatever else rules the kingdom.

I finished a story over the weekend, worked at it to get it to an easily sell-able flash length, then realized it is only the end of a story, and probably needs a good thousand words prior to where I start. Such is the life of a fiction writer.

I enjoyed the movie a great deal. It’s a solid, enjoyable story about this friendship that happens to be taking place during this grand naval adventure on beautiful sailing ships. There are manly men, doing manly things in a (gentle)manly fashion!

I’m only a couple of chapters into the book, but it’s shaping up to be very similar. What the book can do that the film couldn’t, however, is go into prodigious detail about the workings of the ship. Jack likes to work out complicated navigational equations in his head, and describe the workings of the rigging, and inspect the thing and the other thing which is tied (?) to some piece of wood (?).  I dunno.

I’m actually enjoying it more than the previous sentences would suggest. All the naval lingo is essentially the same as Star Trek technobabble as far as I’m concerned, though I’m working on the assumption that it is all real. It kind of even feels like a Star Trek story, too – Aubrey’s friend Maturin is a research scientist on board a military vessel, and Trek clearly always drew inspiration from naval tradition.

I enjoy technobabble, though, so it’s all cool. Initially I thought the writing style felt a little stiff, but it’s sucked me in. I’m looking forward to some action scenes.

(I don’t know what catharpings are, but I’m sure if you modify them properly you can travel through time.)

It’s hard to argue against the Fantastic Four’s boast of being “The World’s Greatest Comic Magazine.” It’s high concept science fiction that perfectly represents the attitudes of the ’60s, and the book revolutionized superhero books at the time. It’s likely the superhero would have faded out long before now if not for Reed Richards’s ill-conceived plan to take his girlfriend into space and get laid beat the Russians into space.

As I’m reading this first issue (November, 1961), a lot of things jump out at me, and I was having too much fun not to share. To the jump!

First off, if anyone ever doubts the power of The King, they just need to check out this book. The monster designs are incredible. I mean, just check out this guy on the cover.

I love the Mole Man’s design, too.

Also, the entire page where our heroes venture into space, just to be assaulted by the cosmic rays that give them their powers, is iconic. Every version of this scene drawn since has paid homage to Kirby’s version somehow. None of the silliness I’m about to point out can be blamed on Kirby’s mad penciling skills.

If you’re not familiar with The Marvel Method, this book is a good example of it in full force. Back in the 1960s, one man wrote most (if not all) of Marvel’s comics: Stan Lee. He had a number of artists, including Kirby here. So Stan would write a brief synopsis of the story for the artist, who would draw it up however they wanted. Then Stan would go back in and fill in the dialog. For a small group of guys just trying to pump out a bunch of magazines every month, it must have been an extremely efficient system. But it shows in places like the page above. Sometimes the writer wasn’t trusting the art enough, which is why you get lines like Ben’s “–Can’t move!–Got to lie down!” when clearly we can see that he’s just done a face plant on the floor. (We still see this problem today – it’s a common rookie writer mistake.)

I like Johnny’s “My body feels hot–like it’s on fire!” though. Foreshadowing!

Some of my favorite moments take place in the first half of the book. There’s danger, so Reed has sent out the signal for the Fantastic Four to assemble. Let’s watch comics’ first family make their way across town, shall we?

First up is Sue Storm, the Invisible Girl.

This is exactly how I get around Manhattan when I’m there. I hop in a cab, don’t say anything, and hope that they eventually get to where I need to go. At this point I can conclude only that Sue is either an idiot or really doesn’t want to be in the FF at all, and was secretly hoping the danger would be gone by the time she got there.

To her credit, though, she hasn’t destroyed half the city in her journey, which is more than I can say about these next two knuckleheads.

Thing crashes his way through too-small doorways (which, really, he can’t be blamed too much for), has a little run-in with understandably freaked cops, and then rips up the street so he can travel via sewer. Naturally. Unfortunately there’s no manhole cover handy when he needs to exit. Ben’s solution?

Yes, what an idiot this driver is! Crazy New York driver! What is this, the first time a giant rock dude has crawled out of the middle of the street? (Again, though, great art – you can really feel that impact and hear the crunch of the car.)

My favorite is Johnny, though, who ups the ante on inadvertent near-catastrophe. We meet Johnny Storm at a garage, where he’s just now finished repairs on someone’s vehicle. If this person just knew the noble hero who just changed out their spark plugs, surely they’d ask for his autogr-

Well, fuck. If cars are his second favorite thing in the world after being the Torch, I’d hate to see how he treats his third favorite thing. Actually, we’ll probably see exactly how that goes when he starts dating in a couple issues.

Understandably panicked by the Torch’s appearance in the airspace over New York City, the military responds.

Yes, I can’t imagine why the pilots in sealed jet fighters traveling just below the speed of sound can’t hear you. By the way, you now owe the National Guard about half a million dollars for those F-86s. That’s a lot of oil changes.

The best though?

Clearly terrified of this flaming man doing loops over Fifth Avenue, one of these pilots has launched no less than a nuclear fraking missile at poor Johnny. Keep in mind, this is in the airspace directly over New York. Cold War America really didn’t screw around! Luckily, Reed stretches to intercept the missile and toss it out into the harbor, where it explodes “harmlessly.” Does this explain Long Island?

Once the team if finally assembled, Reed explains that a number of power plants are being destroyed across the world, demolished by monsters rising out of the Earth. He works his genius mojo and determines the point of origin as the mysterious Monster Island. Nice work, egghead.

On Monster Island (or under it, rather), they encounter Mole Man, and also this:

Holy shit! Seriously, Mole Man, I know you got this whole vendetta against the surface world and all but think about what you’ve got here. For five minutes. The Valley of Diamonds, which could potentially alter the world’s economy and save the lives of countless future African citizens from De Beers slave mines is never mentioned again. Why would it? We’ve got monsters to fight!

So our adventurers escape from the Mole Man’s army of subterranean terrors, dragging the runt along so he doesn’t get away. Now time for Mr. Fantastic to drag his power-grid-wrecking ass to jail, am I right?

Goddammit. Who knew Ben was the brains behind this operation?

Overall, character development is paper thin. Of the main characters, all we learn is that Reed is a scientist (supposedly smart, but all he does is screw up despite Ben’s perfectly reasonable warnings), Johnny likes cars, his sister Sue likes Reed for some reason, and Ben is a curmudgeon. Actually, I’m not sure if Ben is really that grumpy or if he just hates Reed on general principle because he has a crush on Sue. I don’t think Johnny and Ben say two words to each other the entire issue, which if funny given how their relationship goes on to define so much of what is fun about the FF later.

The rest of the book is spent showing off their powers. I have to be fair, though; Stan was writing for a young audience, and keeping the characters simple would be a bonus. Especially if you’re also writing ten other books that week. Who can remember all those details? At any rate, Stan would go on to start developing them properly in the next issue, which is when the tension between the characters begins to ramp up and their individual personalities start to shine through the gloss of their super-powers.

It’s funny, but the Mole Man is the most well developed character in this first issue. He gets a whole story about how everyone mocks him for being ugly. He travels the world in an epic search for a place where he can belong, and finds it at the center of the earth with the monsters. He’s been nearly blinded in the process, and his other senses have been heightened to compensate. Clearly a man of considerable willpower and intelligence, he’s dominated the creatures that live beneath the Earth’s crust and directed them to a fairly ingenious plot. It’s an impressive story of a talented man driven mad by the petty cruelties of so-called humanity.

And what do our noble heroes have to say about it?

Nice one, Reed. Four Freedoms Plaza needs to schedule some sensitivity seminars.

Between the two halves of that I happened to notice Sharpe’s Tiger at the local HalfPrice Books and nabbed that. It’s the first of Bernard Cornwell’s Richard Sharpe books. I’ve always wanted to read them, but never actually came across the first book of the series before. Technically, it’s not the first, but it is the first chronologically, being Sharpe’s first big military adventure, and set earlier than the other books. I’m guessing it doesn’t really matter what order you read them it, but the comic book reader in me wants to read it this way. I love that period of history, with the rampant deluded colonialism and technology just advanced enough to be dangerous to user and victim alike. There is still plenty of opportunity for adventure in 18th-19th century Earth. It’s been a lot of fun so far.

I’ve been obsessed with Phonogram: The Singles Club lately, having finally obtained the couple issues I missed when they first came out. Written by Kieron Gillen with Jamie McKelvie on art.  It’s a series about music, the effect it can have on us, and how magical that is. These comics haven’t left my side for the past week.

The series is set in a London dance club and all takes place over a single night. Each issue presents the night from a different character’s point of view, and by the end of the (fantastic) last issue you get a pretty complete idea of everything that happened. Each of the tales has a bit of a supernatural twist (in the Phonogram universe, music is literally magical), but the stories are still grounded and human. It’s a beautiful, funny, heartbreaking series. At some point I need to pick up Rue Britannia, the original Phonogram series.

I don’t think it’s vital to be familiar with the music that’s referenced throughout to enjoy the stories, but I noticed my enjoyment of the series ramped up considerably once I started checking out the bands (praise be to Pandora).

What are you reading?

With the first volume I was most struck by just how amazing they made Superman. He was powerful and could perform phenomenal feats, and the reader feels great just watching him do these things. All of Superman’s greatest traits are showcased, from his selfless compassion to his intelligence (which is often overlooked).

Some people complain that Superman is too powerful, and they can’t identify with him as a result. That’s all bullshit. It’s not like more the modest powers possessed by the likes of Spider-Man or  Captain America are attainable by us lowly humans, either. Even non-powered heroes like Batman are far better than any real person ever will be. Powers are little more than plot devices, anyway. They aren’t important. The personality behind them is what matters, just like any other genre. Kal-el of Krypton has plenty of personality to identify with.

The second volume is focused on another theme: the world is a better place with Superman. To me, this is vital. In my years of studying stories of heroes, from the epics of Gilgamesh and Beowulf to The Odyssey and Star Wars and Seven Samurai, one of the most important questions asked of any good hero story is whether the hero and their deeds makes their world a better place. Gilgamesh returns from his quests for immortality to discover that his people haven’t just gotten along just fine without him, they’ve actually thrived in his absence. Beowulf’s heroic deeds brought nothing but trouble on his people. The motley band of surviving ronin at the end of Seven Samurai muse on what it means that the people they’ve historically oppressed are capable of turning on them or abandoning them when the warriors are no longer needed. What does it mean to be a hero? And who gets more out of the experience? Is it worth the collateral damage?

By the end of All Star Superman volume 2, I’m convinced that this is a book that has found a hero who makes the world a better place. His legacy is inspiring. His actions improve lives. He has stopped evil that wasn’t somehow his own fault. Even when he’s just a character on a page, Supes changes things.

I’ll need to reread volume 1 and then this one again to really catch everything (it’s that kind of book), but my initial impression is that this book has effectively made the case for Superman. Not that he really needed any help, but it’s nice anyway.

In the meantime, you can head here and listen to a couple of fellow Writer’s Inkers tales that have already been read.

Also, Stephanie had a fun zombie story go up over the weekend. Enjoy!

In writing news, I have been working on a new superhero story. I’m digging the beginning and may post an excerpt this week. It’s high time I wrote a story about a superhero who’s a bit of a jackass. I’m also drawing on some stories of friends’ experiences in Hollywood. Should be fun! It’s been way too long since I’ve actually finished something, so I really want this story to happen.

I didn’t get a chance to see The Road, but I’m reading the book now and it is bogglingly good, one of those “why does anyone bother to continue writing in this subgenre after this” sort of books. (Though the fact that it’s listed as “literature” instead of “science fiction” is an example of arrogant genre-dismissive bullshit that I can’t stand.) For a fun exercise in seeing people entirely missing the point, take a gander at some of the negative reviews over at Amazon. I particularly enjoy the one that thinks the lack of punctuation was perhaps an accident.

I did get to see The Book of Eli on Monday. There were a few things that could have been improved, but overall I thought it was quite good. I’m kind of surprised at the overall negative reviews it’s gotten. Many immediately complain that they’re tired of apocalyptic movies, at which point I pretty much stop reading. Isn’t that your own fault for becoming a movie reviewer? Stop whinging about your comfy, trivial job.

Anyway, I am interested in the place of religion in these settings. Would people turn their backs on the old religions, since they appear to have failed? Would they cling to them, desperate for salvation? Would they invent new ones to try and explain the horrible events that took place?

The third option is a sticky wicket to me. We tend to think of religion as something that humans naturally develop per a basic need to explain the unknown, but I have to wonder if new religions would arise at all. In these scenarios, humans are barely surviving, primarily off the remnants of the dead, and a landscape so inhospitable makes long-term survival for the species unlikely. When would these people have the luxury of inventing new gods?

Also her name looks like a court case! There’s got to be some sort of metaphor there ripe for fictionalizing.

I’ve nabbed a gargantuan tome of short stories by T.C. Boyle, on Gay’s recommendation.

(Speaking of Gay, she’s got a pair of new stories up that you should check out, here and here.)

I do occasionally venture into that world of non-genre, contemporary fiction. A quick perusal of my bookshelves will find Rick Bass’s The Watch, Mark Richard’s The Ice at the Bottom of the World, and Eudora Welty’s A Curtain of Green. As I recall, each had at least a couple of stories I found excellent, though it’s been some time since I read any of them.

There’s also Colson Whitehead’s The Intuitionist, which I loved. It’s sort of an absurdest espionage story involving elevator inspectors that delivers some sharp social commentary. Great stuff. I really need to look into getting some of his other books.

A month or so ago TwoMorrows had a sale on their Modern Masters books, and I nabbed a couple (actually, looks like they have a sale going now, too, though not quite as good as the one I got). Volume 9 featuring Mike Wieringo, and Volume 10 featuring Kevin Maguire.

Mike was artist on an excellent run of Fantastic Four (along with writer Mark Waid) and an great visual storyteller. These Modern Masters books present a lot of the raw pages he drew, and even without the dialogue I have no trouble at all following the story. His art is full of fun, contagious energy. I identify a lot with Mike, the kinds of stories he likes, the moods he enjoys evoking, his unwarranted insecurities concerning his art. His sudden death a couple years ago pretty well crushed me. One of these days I’ll get a copy of his creator-owned Tellos. I don’t know why I keep putting it off. Maybe because I’ll feel awful, knowing that he won’t be able to produce more?

Maguire was artist for the (in)famous Justice League International era of DCs premier superhero team back in the late ’80s, early ’90s. For those unfamiliar with the period, this was shortly after DCs big Crisis reboot of the Universe. Their big heroes (namely Superman and Wonder Woman) were all sort of tied up being modernized, so the company put together a new Justice League of lesser-known characters. There are few heroes I love more than the 2nd stringers, they guys who should never win but manage to anyway, and Maguire’s expressive art really made you love them. He’s one of those artists who doesn’t work as often as I’d like, and it’s a treat every time he pops up. His recent Batgirl arc of Batman Confidential was a hoot.

I finally read V for Vendetta, by Alan Moore and David Lloyd. I particularly liked the film version and the book didn’t change my opinion. They both work in their own ways. The film solved a few problems the book had and updates it for modern audiences, but it delivers a different philosophy, so I see how people might be a little irritated by it. People like to say the movie is an attack on the Bush administration, but I think that says more about Bush than the film. Plus I don’t get people saying Evey was a prostitute; she tries to be, for like one panel on page 2. What would people say about my entire summer of 2001?

Watching

I recently obtained a Playstation 3 and holy crap does Blu-Ray look good. We nabbed Superman and Goodfellas for cheap and they look amazing.

(FYI, if you ever want to see my cry like a baby, you’ll put on Superman and queue the scene where Superman saves Lois from the helicopter crash. Goddammit it gets me every time.)

Hope everyone is (or will be) having a good Thanksgiving weekend. Ours should be fun – the wife and I will be hosting her family this year, and visiting my family (including a cousin who’s on leave from Afghanistan) on Saturday, then probably hanging out with some friends on Sunday. These friends have recently produced offspring which I’m told is “cute” and “life altering and/or affirming.” I shall put the new heir to the test! If she doesn’t bring me my food fast enough or change the television channel properly it won’t speak well of the reproductive process. And I don’t want to hear some “she’s only a few months old” nonsense!

Anyway, since you are just laying around in a turkey coma, you should go read this story by KC. It is excellent!

And also this one, by JR Hume, because it’s probably the best piece of flash I’ve read in a while.

I also found this article to be interesting. I have my own thoughts on sexism in genre fiction (which I think is often unfairly singled out for being sexist despite it simply being a reflection of our society as a whole). I may gather them up over this long weekend and post about it next week.