The Long Halloween: Part 2 September 27, 2008

This week I was a little more dedicated to reading my comic book of choice. This is, probably, because I was reading The Long Halloween.

Actually, there is no probability involved. The reason I became the disciple of dedication this week is a direct result of reading this comic. It was like, once I realized exactly what it was I was reading, I couldn’t stop.

It met with my expectations and then walked right past them (you know, in a good way).

And, I have to admit, I was a wee bit excited that I actually guessed correctly about garish Gilda being the Holiday killer. Well, one of the Holiday killers (emphasis on the plural) because Harvey surprisingly or shall I say Two-Face, as well as Falcone’s son, were also in on the action.

Their unexpected involvement explains a few things. Like, why Harvey’s hair was wet that one night. (Which, at the time, I thought this fact was just too obvious an indicator of his guiltiness to actually be true). And, also, why someone was murdered even though Gilda was in the hospital. I mean, I don’t think she would have had the stamina to put a bullet in a member of the mafia when she was wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy.

I loved (and I don’t know why I loved this) the fact that no one ever knows it was Gilda.

Perhaps the reason I like this is because I really don’t think of her as a brilliant psychopathic killer, although she was pretty smart and she definitely had some problems.

But, the fact that someone who appears to be this stereotypical stay-at-home wife is, for the most part, getting away with all these murders is both unusual and unthinkable. And these murders are not just any murders, they are public murders. They are ritualistic, patterned, and their target is extremely dangerous.

You would think that after a year they would have caught the murderer, since she/he/they are so predictable. But they don’t.

Actually, the more I think about this, the more I think that in the real world Gilda would have been caught, because of the similarities and patterns she exhibits when she kills.

Ah well, I guess it is more effective dramatically if she’s never found out.

All that said I still really enjoyed the comic.

I especially liked what Tim Sale, or maybe it was the colorist, did with the murder scenes. It was very cinematographic how everything was black and white except for the holiday items.

Perhaps this was inspired by The Killing Joke, in which a similar color effect occurred whenever the writer flashed back to the Joker’s past.

It also reminded me of Spielberg’s Shindler’s List, which came out a few years before The Long Halloween (I don’t know if this was intentional or not, I’m just drawing comparisons). In the movie there is a scene which takes place in the Ghetto. During this scene all the Jews are either being rounded up or killed. Only one little girl, who’s probably three or four years old, wanders untouched in the midst of this havoc. Her little jacket blazes red amongst the colorless backdrop, and Schindler watches her in fascination because no one else seems to notice her at all.

This same fascination occurred when I saw the colorful leprechaun, tie, pumpkin, etc. in The Long Halloween.

These are things, in our culture, which are symbolic of different holidays and the tradition behind them. They are constantly seen on store shelves and television commercials and recur so often in our society that they have become almost purely ideological. Usually, when we see them, we don’t give them any extra thought apart from our already preconceived notions.

But, in the comic, these objects lose their original meaning. They become arbitrary. When placed next to a dead body, within the vicinity of death and revenge, they just seem ridiculous.

Maybe I’m getting a bit too heavy with my analysis of this comic (It happens quite often)…but then again, maybe not.

I mean, aren’t there a million or so papers written on what are considered the “classics” of literature (Classics are basically those books which some wealthy, educated man and his peers deemed important, and then passed down to other “educated” persons), why not write some papers on what is deemed non-classical, or neo-classical, or popular like, for instance, comic books? (I’ll have to note that there has been more of this in recent years, but not enough).

What is popular now is considered unworthy of academic attention because it speaks to the masses, not those with multiple degrees.

But, one day it will be old, and some person in the future will think it’s amazing. They’ll think it’s an example of some kind of -ism or -ist way of thinking. (Isn’t this what happened with Modernism, Romanticism, Naturalism, etc.?)

Doesn’t antiquity in our society, in a way, imply quality?

This is a tangent that I should probably leave be for now.

I’ll just end with the fact that the comic was good, great, awesome, amazing. Basically, I liked it a lot. It was one comic absolutely worth analyzing.

The Long Halloween: Part 1 September 21, 2008

This week I feel like I’ve hit the jackpot comic book wise.

All I have to say is, “Three cheers for the first three chapters of Batman: The Long Halloween!”

Okay, it sounds kind of silly to say “the first three chapters.” Why not just say the entire thing was amazing?

Well, I can’t say the entire thing is amazing, although I’m sure it is, because I haven’t actually read the whole graphic novel yet.

You would think, since I have not yet been apprised of it all, that my hip hip hurray would be a few hips short. But, that’s not true. All my hips are exactly where they are supposed to be because I know, somehow, that this book will not let me down.

I know, because the place deep inside me whispered as I turned those colored pages, “Oh yes, you are really going to enjoy this.”

And I know, because, well, many people have elaborated on its wonderfulness.

But why haven’t I read all of it you ask? The answer is simple enough: time management.

Unfortunately this week in between memorizing lines of Shakespeare and working on my Lit Theory paper, I just haven’t had time to read it.

I know, I know, who doesn’t have time to read a comic book?

Well, if I had known how fabulous it would be I would have started reading it earlier this week to serve as a form of relief from “the pressure” of school, and said to hell with Shakespeare and responsibility.

Ah well. Let’s talk some more about how lovely it is.

It’s a murder mystery, for one. And why wouldn’t a person like that about a comic? Not only do you get to read about your favorite bat dressed characters, you get to see them try to figure out who is causing all the mayhem.

Who is the Holiday killer? (This is the name of the mysterious criminal who is secretly and persistently killing off members of Falcone’s mob)

I have a theory. I suppose I will admit it to you and then later this week I can confirm whether it is right or not.

Drum roll please…

I think Harvey Dent’s wife is the Holiday killer.

Shocked? I was, and then I wasn’t because:

When Batman goes and visits that calendar criminal guy in prison, the guy implies the killer is a woman. And whoever the killer is, they use a baby bottle lip as a silencer, and Dent’s wife had a miscarriage and references wanting to start a new family.

It could also be her because the killer always wear’s gloves. These gloves obscure what the killer’s hands look like and make it hard to tell whether the hand belongs to a woman or man.

She would also be a good candidate because she’s married to Harvey and would have gained some knowledge about how to cover up a murder. She would know, for example, that she needs to file the serial number off of the gun so that it is untraceable.

And, she is always drawn in the shadows, which is just creepy.

Anyway, I’m going to get back to reading. Perhaps I will find that I am way off in my assumptions. But then again, maybe not.

Never Reading Neverwhere Again (Okay it wasn’t that bad, but the meaner the title the better) September 13, 2008

 

So, this week, instead of traveling down the road of the familiar (mainly, that road down which men dressed like bats, birds, and clowns duke it out), I decided to try something different, something new. This something, had not been recommended to me, but rather I had heard of it from some unknown someone or had seen it in some unknown someplace. In keeping with the some, somehow I had come upon this comic book and had gotten it into my head that this was the book I was going to read this week. The name, of which, is Neverwhere.

Now, when I first picked up this comic, the first thing I saw on the cover was “Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere.” And I thought to myself, oh, Neil Gaiman was in on this. Isn’t he the famous science fiction/fantasy writer who won the Hugo for American Gods, and who is also notably noted in comics for his Sandman series (which I haven’t read yet, but plan to read)? Why, yes he is… this comic must be good.

So, I left the comic book store feeling like I had made a good decision, that I had made my own comic find, without the help of those more experienced, more knowledgeable then me. And I thought to myself, with a slight grin on my face, perhaps it is time for me to become more independent in my choices of comic books? Maybe, I can actually do this on my own? Perhaps I no longer need to be a codependent comic connoisseur?

These lovely thoughts of independence, and their associated feelings of elation about being able to stand on one’s own feet, lasted for a few days. That is, they lasted the duration of time before I actually began reading Neverwhere, before I realized I was happier when I only thought it was a good idea to read this comic.

If, I had been more observant when choosing my comic, I would have never thought these thoughts or felt these feelings. If, I had just taken the time to closely peruse the cover, I would have recognized that the comic book wasn’t actually written by Neil Gaiman, but was just adapted from his novel, Neverwhere. I would have seen that the comic was actually written by Mike Carrey, a fact I only discovered after reading the introduction.

But, I’ll have to admit, even if I had known this before buying it, it might not have deterred me from reading, because, even after reading the intro, which was also written by Mr. Carrey, I still felt decently optimistic about the comic. I actually liked the writing style I encountered in the intro.

But, sadly, the introduction was the best written part of the entire comic book.

The rest just seemed so choppy.

Now, I’ll have you know, that I have a deep seated love for science fiction/fantasy. And, that for a long portion of my life it is all I would read (basically my entire adolescence) until I realized that there are a lot of other great genres out there. So, when I say that the sci fi/fantasy elements featured in this comic were just weird, you’ll think that my saying that (the person who likes weird in their fiction) is odd.

It wasn’t weird in an I-couldn’t-handle-the-bending-of-dimensions-or-strange-creatures-way, but, the reason it was weird was because of how the story was portrayed to the reader.

Now, I sympathize with those who are left to adapt novels for other mediums, and I understand it would be difficult to take somebody else’s work and make it work for what you are trying to make. But, that said, if you don’t feel that you can tell a story wholly and fully, then cut it down some. Don’t just skip from one element to another without a descent explanation or even a building up to it.

Science fiction/fantasy needs to be explained to the reader. You are expecting us, who live in this world of coffee shops, tree tops, and flip flops (among other things), to believe in a world where rats rule, monks duel, and angel’s are cruel. It’s not that we can’t believe. We just need a little help getting there.

There was no help anywhere in Neverwhere. There was no explanation for the weird, they just put it on the page and said, “Here, believe this… and this.”

I can’t tell you how many times the story would transition and I would have to go back and make sure I hadn’t skipped a page, because I couldn’t believe the transition would be so unsmooth. I mean, why don’t we just skip, and not flow with purpose or understanding, from one part of the story to another? Why, if it’s too much story to fit into one comic book and you have a page limit, wouldn’t you just cut down on the plot some, if the alternative is butchering it like a child with sharp scissors?

Like I said, it’s choppy.

Maybe, I’ve just been spoiled thus far with the comics I’ve read, or maybe I’m just an English snob who has standards when it comes to the writing I read, but I just wasn’t impressed with this one.

I could go on and on about the lack of motivation for certain events. (Like, for example, at the end of the story the main character wants so badly to return to the strange world he had been thrust in to. Where was the evidence of his developing love for the unordinary that he all of the sudden cannot live without it? People don’t just make decisions for no reason. They may think they do, but there is always some environmental factor at work.) But I won’t… anymore then I just did

Ah well, no worries. I won’t harp on this topic anymore. Besides, I’m sure next week will be better. I think I’ll call a friend of mine. They will, most likely, have some suggestions for me. You know how codependents are (I’m referring to myself); they always go back. And, in my case, I’m going back to the person with better taste. Then next week, hopefully, I’ll have a better experience.

Hush September 6, 2008

I had every intention of reading one particular comic book this week.

It is a book that has been described to me as one of the best Batman comic books out there. I was told specifically, by a friend, that it exists “out there” in the world. I was told that it floats, not only on bookshelves in tiny comic corner stores, but also in big retail stores which sell big retail books. This is how important, wonderful, etc. it is, that it can exist in all these places. But, no matter where I searched in the there that it supposedly exists, whether I scoured wooden shelves next to latte sippers or whether I perused wire contraptions amongst card board boxes and nervous RPG loving employees, I could not find it there.

Apparently, even though it’s not even October yet, people can’t wait for Halloween, The Long Halloween, that is. They just keep snatching it off the shelves without any regards to what season it actually is.

But, this is no big matter. I will read it, someday. The guy at the place said it was coming in next week so maybe someday will be Monday, but I won’t be too upset if it isn’t (Okay, maybe just a little). After all, there are a lot of great comic books out there.

Shhhhhh. Do you hear that? Hush now and listen. Why, I think it’s another comic book (another one besides The Long Halloween) by Jeff Loeb. What? What did you say? It’s not just a comic book by Jeff Loeb, but it is a Batman comic book by Jeff Loeb? Why, that’s even better.

Hush, it’s not just Batman, its Batman done by Jeff Loeb, Jim Lee, and Scott Williams. And, not surprisingly, it is not as quiet as its name suggests.

So how did I come upon this comic book? Basically, I was walking and I saw its cover.

People, or writers, who don’t think that the cover art sells their books, are crazy. And the cover art is especially pertinent in comics, since it implies what type of art will be found inside.

So I saw the cover, liked it (It didn’t hurt that Jeff Loeb was in on it), and bought it. Well, I bought them. There are two volumes of Hush. Then I read them, all of them, in one fine day.

It was, I must admit, a very, very nice day. I went to a café for coffee and Hush accompanied me. I then went to the duck pond to watch the funny things in action, and Hush came with me. After that I went to eat Thai food with a friend. No, I didn’t read Hush then, but it stayed quietly in my bag the entire time I ate and didn’t utter one complaint.

I then went home, dusted off an old record of Cat Stevens, and delved back into Hush in order to see how Batman was dealing with his own cat, Catwoman, and finished off the day as I finished reading.

Now, I don’t want to sound too complimentary, but I probably will anyway. It was just a good comic book. The penciling, the inking, the coloring was all fantastic. It was bright, detailed, and colorful. Usually, when you read a Batman comic, you prepare yourself for shadows and darkness, which works well nine times out of ten. But in this one, there wasn’t too much darkness, and you were still okay with it. And, that’s not discounting the “darkness” which creeps up in other areas that are not colored black, blue or gray. I’m speaking, metaphorically, in reference to the ideas and struggles usually present in a Batman comic that can be just as dark as the colors which fill it.

It was this “darkness” (but also lightness as well) which made the story great. It reminded you how many people are actually on Batman’s side, backing him up, but at the same time, you were also reminded that no matter how many people are in his life, Batman, in the end, is still a loner.

Practiced loner that he is, however, Batman must have had a hard time in this story sticking to that role (Wow, I’m talking about him like he’s a real person. . . I don’t know if that’s bad or not). The story brought in several villains and superheroes to keep the dark knight company. Now, you might think that would be overwhelming, but it wasn’t. Jeff Loeb did it in a manner that in no way resembled a nasty hurricane, flinging characters here and there with abandon, but rather like a tide, depositing the characters a few at a time ashore and into Batman’s life.

The story was also, in staying true to the Batman tradition, a detective story, and a mystery. Who is the caped, or no caped villain who is causing all this mayhem? Don’t worry Batman figures it out. But, while he does you not only get to reminisce with some of the characters you know and love (Catwoman, Poison Ivy, Killer Croc, Superman, Two Face, the Joker, Harley Quinn, Nightwing, Robin, the Huntress, Ra’s Al Ghul, the Riddler, and some others who don’t wear costumes but are still loved just as dearly) you get to watch them fight together, love together, think together, and then fight together some more.

So, you know, read it, don’t read it. But, read it, because it’s fun. It’s not a masterpiece, but it is pretty great, and it’s fun.

But don’t read it too loudly. Some things should be hushed up, kept quiet. It is, after all, a mystery.