Category Archives: Words

Ultimate Spider-Man: Death of a Goblin

DIG008685_1Blah blah blah goodcakes. I know, I know. But since it continues to rate, I can hardly not continue to say it, right? As is by now usually the case this far into the series, it’s time for another familiar old villain to rear his head:  as the title indicates, Norman Osborn’s Green Goblin has broken out of S.H.I.E.L.D. custody to once more torment Peter Parker and friends. What continues to impress is how there’s always a new take; this time, it’s the mysterious absence of Nick Fury, Osborn’s devious scheme to discredit the missing Fury, and a dire hint about S.H.I.E.L.D.’s [in]ability to control the Oz formula that transforms Osborn into the Green Goblin and has also affected others of Peter’s friends over the past year. I definitely like how most new Ultimate titles I read these days tie that universe closer and closer together. Not unlike a spider’s web, you can hardly touch one strand without consequences being sensed in each of the others.

But enough about all this, I can hardly convince you of the goodness of the story by now if I haven’t already done so long since. Rather, I feel it necessary to comment on the change of artist for the first time in over 100 issues. Newcomer Stuart Immomen[1] definitely has a different style, and it will take me a little time to get used to it. I mean, I’ve seen his art in Ultimate Fantastic Four as well, and it’s not at all bad. It’s just that Bagley’s weight on the series is a lot stronger than any other artist/series combo in the Ultimate universe, and probably in most of Marvel’s history. That said, Immomen has a few quirks. For one thing (and I cannot get over the fact that I hold this opinion at all; apparently I’ve been reading a lot of comics over the past 2-3 years?), his lines are really heavy. Generally if I notice them as distinct from the figure they contain, that is too heavy for me. For another thing, he seems to work from a limited pool of facial expressions. At least, annoyed Peter Parker is the same as annoyed Reed Richards. Also, the eye on the Spider-Man mask has gotten vast. I mean, seriously frakking huge, like a full third of the mask’s surface area per side. However, none of the art is stylized or overly focused on experimentation; all of the people look like people. So I will get used to it, no worries. It’s just a lot of change to take in at once.

[1] I cannot help but think of him as a girl unless I’m really trying not to, because his name reminds me of Imoen from Baldur’s Gate and Baldur’s Gate II. This is not something you actually needed to know.

Ultimate Vision

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After the earth was saved at the end of the Ultimate Galactus trilogy[1], things pretty much went back to normal I guess. Except, some editor and Golden Age and/or Silver Age android fan decided that there ought to be a few more consequences. As a result, we have Ultimate Vision, in which the robot that came to earth to warn of Gah Lak Tus’ approach and document our doomed civilization rebuilds itself a female body with implausibly proportioned hips and tangles with the scientists of a criminal organization called A.I.M.[2] (whose presence I have not previously detected in the Ultimate continuity) over the disposal of a spare Gah Lak Tus drone that was damaged and left behind as the swarm retreated in defeat. And yeah, that’s pretty much the whole thing. It’s not that it was a bad story; it was actually pretty okay. It’s that it was tragically irrelevant to anything else going on.

[1] Spoiler alert
[2] Advanced Idea Mechanics, if you were curious

Iorich

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What I think I like best about the Vlad Taltos novels is the voice, just as it has been what I liked best about the Paarfi novels that comprise most of the rest of Steven Brust’s Dragaeren world. Although, mind you, I’ve read other books by him where the voice was not the primary feature, so it’s not like voice is his only skill. (In these, it is pretty clearly a stronger skill than plotting just lately, but even then, I wonder how much of that is really the author, and how much of that is Vlad’s voice coming through more strongly than ever, with his own interest in the plot (read: events occurring in his life) taking a backseat to his interest in how those events are affecting his physical/mental/emotional wellbeing. Our Vlad is definitely… but I get at least a little ahead of myself.)

Iorich documents the furthest step forward in his life to date. Still on the run from Jhereg assassins[1], Vlad’s life seems to consist of, well, not very much, though as usual he implies there are chapters to it we have not yet been told about. This latest interlude of not very much is rudely interrupted when his friend Aliera is accused of practicing Elder sorcery, which she does all the time as a matter of common knowledge even though there is a good reason for it to be so heavily illegal. As most of his friends that would otherwise take care of such a problem are constrained by matters of honor, Vlad immediately sets himself to the task of untangling the odd political situation that has resulted in this common event suddenly being taken seriously for the first time. Which would be basically fine, except for those Jhereg assassins that in case I didn’t mention it intend to not so much kill him as destroy his soul. No question, it’s a bit of a sticky situation.

Here’s what I liked about the book, though. I was down on the plot a few moments ago, but reading over that muddled mess in the previous paragraph that I am pretty sure I have nevertheless described succinctly, it’s a plot that interests me. In practice, it’s a little slower than it should be, but the central questions are really compelling, and Brust dumps all manner of politics[2] into the mix along the way, even including an eventual explanation of what’s been going on. But what really grabbed me was Vlad’s ongoing metamorphosis as a character. He has long been my definitive example of an unreliable narrator, and that’s still true. But I have the sense that he has a much clearer picture of who he is than he has had in previous of his stories. (For one thing, there are at least a couple of mocking references to his own unreliability as a narrator, which I’m confident he was not aware of in, for example, Jhereg or Teckla.[3]) Like I said before, his lack of reliability comes more from what he chooses to care about, these days. And that metamorphosis of character is… well, it’s not what Vlad cares about, that’s not true. But it’s what Brust cares about, and Vlad’s voice is showing it more and more with each book since Phoenix, whether Vlad intends for it to or not. There will come a time, before this series is over, when the man will be an actual human being. He’s not there yet, but I and my psychology degree look forward to it with almost childlike glee.

[1] Look, this is like the 12th or so book in a series. You should ought to read that series, if you haven’t, but if you haven’t, nothing much of this brief summary will make sense. Just trust me that Vlad’s voice is worth your time.
[2] Not just politicking, which is a usual ingredient of a Vlad novel, whether at the personal, professional, national, or even ontological level. But in this case, actual politics. It has been observed that Brust was reading Adam Smith’s The Wealth of Nations during the period in which this book and the next one were/are being written. There’s not a direct line to that fact, at least in this book, but it’s reasonable to assume his political self could have been pushed to the front as a result of it.
[3] If you think it is odd to so frankly discuss a literary character’s self-awareness, well, you’re not wrong about that. But it exists all the same, and without breaking any fourth wall. That’s a pretty neat trick in itself.

Lucifer: Exodus

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I wonder if I should ought to break out of my rhythm and read the Lucifer books more concurrently with each other than I have done. After this most recent four month gap, I’m starting to feel more and more like the narrative has grown too complex for me to not keep the series more firmly in mind as I read each new story. Exodus, just for example, took me fully two-thirds of the book to get much of a handle on. The exodus in question is ordered by Lucifer himself, who, having seen the way that the various immortal/ancient beings in Yahweh’s universe of his birth have variously conspired against their God and now seek to replace Him in His absence, decides to rid his own universe of such backstabbing treachery. I suppose there’s no small amount of irony in that goal. And so the main part of the book is a series of stories about various immortals in each universe and how they have responded to both the originating event and the subsequent edict.

What struck me as interesting is how this is the first book in the series that has shared a structural hook with the Sandman series that gave it birth. Although many Sandman books followed a main plotline in which the Lord of Dreams reached certain conclusions about the nature of his existence, many were only stage-dressing in which Gaiman got a chance to tell various unrelated short stories through the lens of bit players that briefly or tangentially touched upon the lives of one or more of the Endless. And Exodus, you see, was like that, mostly told through the prism of Lucifer’s trusted[1] lieutenants (Mazikeen the Lilim, Michael’s daughter Elaine Belloc, the cherub Gaudium, and others) on their quest to enforce the, you know, exodus of the immortals. Of course, there’s only one place to send them, and in His absence, it appears that Yahweh’s universe may be experiencing a shelf-life.

[1] Well. Reasonably well trusted, for all of the unlikelihood of that claim.

Ultimate X-Men: Sentinels

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I have observed with some degree of interest how I have changed the way I interact with shorter types of external stimuli, such as movies and graphic novels. By no means is it that they have fewer themes, nor ones that are necessarily smaller in scope; just that with the limited amount of time and space for presentation, the themes are usually more compact and immediate, which means that I not only have to be prepared to pay closer attention finding them, but that they also can require more ability to read between the lines. Like, with a 20-50 hour game or a 300-1000 page book, I can just let my mind wander and see what bubbles to the surface as I go, but in the couple of hours I spend on these shorter media, sometimes not treating it like a treasure hunt for nougaty thematic goodness means I won’t have anything to say when I get here.

And then there are stories like Sentinels, which are simultaneously so muddled and so scattered that I have no idea what just happened, try though I might. There are two and a half plots in progress, at least two timelines to keep track of, an inexplicably large number of drive-by characters who show up for one scene or issue only to vanish forever, and far more needless overt sexualization than I’ve seen anywhere in the Ultimate line before now.[1] In what I’m going to assume is the plot that matters, a new group of X-Men has formed in the wake of the original group’s disbandment to focus on the “school” aspect of Charles Xavier’s school for mutants in upstate New York, that disbandment coming in the wake of the events of the previous book. And said new group fights off the return of the mutant-hunting robot Sentinels, while the people at the school go off in search of underground mole mutants and deal with the ever-present portentous foreshadowing about Jean Grey’s fated transformation into the Phoenix. I think if they’d used the same amount of space to tell either story individually, it wouldn’t have felt rushed and full of annoyingly fast cuts between scenes that weren’t related by plot, theme, irony, or even art. I can’t help but feel like, in response to my recent thoughts that a series-level climax is drawing near, they suddenly found themselves out of time to tell the stories they had left and were forced to rush.[2]

Still, I shouldn’t complain too much. The use of a new artist for each of the 2.5 storylines means that at least I wasn’t stuck with the horrible first guy during any of the needless sexualization scenes.

[1] I mean, I’m kind of a fan of needless sexualization, but not when it takes me out of what ought by rights to be a good story.
[2] If so, I have no sympathy, because they could have used the space taken up by the worthless Magician storyline to tell these ones right.

Ultimate Spider-Man: Ultimate Knights

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I maybe already mentioned this, but in case you’re wondering: after I noticed that I was getting spoiled for my Spider-Man stories in Ultimate X-Men, I’ve started reading the Ultimate series in graphic novel release order, and I had a bit of catching up to do on Spidey. So, that’s why so many of these in a row. So that’s that. Luckily, the Ultimates and Fantastic Four cross over with the rest of the continuity less often, or this would have been a problem much sooner, and probably when I could have done less about it. As it is, though, hooray, all’s well now.

The upshot being, I just read Ultimate Knights. And… okay, even though I knew it would be another 5-star story, I also knew there was no possible way it could live up to the jaw-dropping splendor of the Clone Saga. I’m not going to sit here and tell you it did, either, because I meant that about no possible way. Yet, at the same time… Bendis took a book that should have been breathing space from one major revelation after another, things that will likely have repercussions for years down the line if the series continues (as I very much hope it will), and he made it about a collective effort, organized by Daredevil, to take down the Kingpin. And what I’m saying is, it worked as breathing space, an arc that under any other circumstance I would have considered a major turning point in its own right! But as fantastic as I have found these various rounds with the Kingpin to be, what I think I liked best about the book[1] is that it really was breathing space. It’s nice to see Peter Parker have a good day every so often, and this was one of those.

[1] Please don’t take this to be a spoiler about the outcome of that Kingpin confrontation; I wouldn’t do that. Separate thing here.

Outcast

Outcast_coverThere’s a new Star Wars series again, set 40 years after the events of the movies, decades past the final fall of the Empire, well past the invasion of an extra-galactic alien armada not affected by the Force, just a few years past a second galactic civil war caused by another Sith lord from the Skywalker line. And this most recent event shows that people are basically the same all over; public sentiment has turned sharply against the Jedi Order in the wake of Jacen Solo’s fall, mostly because political figures are of the opinion that Luke Skywalker should have seen it coming and prevented it.

The truth of that statement, despite its simultaneous unfairness, points Luke and his son Ben on a quest through the galaxy in search of the various Force-sensitive but non-Jedi societies Jacen visited in the years before his fall, to see if they can find any clues. After establishing this premise and hinting at mental illnesses that may be starting to afflict some of the Jedi, Outcast proceeds to… well, to stall out. The first leg of Luke’s investigation is entertaining, as are Han and Leia’s adventures trying to keep a planet from being blown up. (By earthquakes, not Death Stars.) But the pacing back and forth between these stories and the Jedi illness plotline is awkward, and by the end of the book, I felt like it maybe should have been compressed into just a hundred pages with plenty of room for more. Worse, the Han and Leia plotline actually had no apparent bearing on anything else, even though I’m well aware that a seemingly minor event involving their granddaughter will be relevant later on. The knowing and the entertainment just weren’t quite enough to make up for the structural weirdness and the slowness of the pace.

Possibly as part of a straight through read of the nine book series, the pacing would not have struck me oddly, but in the book standing alone: no good. Luckily, I did enjoy the discrete events, so I have no worries about liking the next book, whenever I get around to reading it. (Probably not terribly long from now, as it would be nice to be caught up again.) I guess the majority of my disappointment comes from the fact that Aaron Allston is a known good quantity in the Star Wars Expanded Universe, and to see plotting or pacing problems from him, much less both, confuses me more than just any randomly off-kilter Star Wars book would. It’s not like they don’t exist in the wild.

Death: The High Cost of Living

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Between the length of the week with various holiday trips and all and the amount of time I’ve spent staring at my own writing while scouring the internet for repairs on this until recently dead site, it’s kind of hard to remember just how I felt about The High Cost of Living. There is a legend that Death must spend a day in every century as a mortal, I guess to better understand her job. And the book is entirely about that day, spent with a Manhattan kid whose ennui would do a French philosopher proud, Mad Hettie from the Sandman series, and a couple of bad guys who hope to capture all of Death’s power while she is mortal and vulnerable. It is fair to say, I think, that there’s not a single character in the story who actually understands what is happening, nor what his or her individual role is to play. Possibly Hettie, but as she’s quite mad, it’s difficult to tell. Certainly nobody else. It is left to the reader to unravel the various skeins of consequence. It’s a good little story, for all that it’s short and confusing. There are aspects I did not understand one bit, but I felt pretty comforted by what I did latch onto.

The last pages of the book are a brief sexual health pamphlet distributed by Death to keep us all from getting AIDS (among other STDs), as, after all, we’ve only got the one life and wouldn’t it be best to keep on living it, and to do so in reasonable comfort and health? You can certainly tell it’s twenty years old, but I like to imagine that it both helped some people and turned some people onto Gaiman’s world that might otherwise have never known to look for it.

Ultimate Spider-Man: Clone Saga

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If I thought I could get away with it, the entirety of my review would be “Holy shit.” Because, in contravention of every reasonable expectation I could have had, Clone Saga did not merely maintain the high standards that I have, despite myself, come to expect from the Ultimate Spider-Man series; it surpassed them in every way. Everything else that it crosses my mind to say is, although probably accurate for me as a reader, actually too hyperbolic to put on a page. Suffice it to say, I wish I could do a targeted mindwipe of the book, so I could read it again for the first time, Right Now.

It is my understanding (in fact, there’s an entire introduction discussing it) that this revisits yet another long-celebrated moment in the original Spider-Man continuity. As such, I look forward to it, but I’m glad there will be so many differences, because if it was very similar beyond the essential clone concept, I would be doomed to disappointment. But, okay: in thumbnail, Spider-Man fights the Scorpion at the mall, only to discover that the man inside the suit is Peter Parker! In the aftermath of that stunning moment in the real Peter’s life, Mary Jane gets kidnapped by… but that would be telling; and Nick Fury declares war on Spider-Man, a move that could well be his biggest mistake. And honestly, I’m barely scratching the surface.

And, I know I’ve said this before, but, my God, Aunt May. Simply amazing.

Ultimate X-Men: Cable

I have made mention several times over the past few months that the Marvel Ultimate series has an expiration date that, according to my bookshelf, I seem to be approaching. But it hasn’t felt like that in the depths of the storylines, right? Which is one of the reasons that Cable caught me by so much surprise that it has caused me to rethink the Ultimate X-Men series as a whole. More on that in a sec, but what made me start thinking about the Ultimatum again is how much finality and apocalypticism Kirkman brought to the table this time. There’s this guy Cable, see, and he has come from the future to kill Charles Xavier and thereby prevent said future from ever occurring, probably because it sucks? This is information I have not yet been specifically given, so. All the same, the situation felt like the first pebble of an avalanche, in a way that nothing previously has.

Which I guess ties into what I meant about rethinking the UXM series. Obviously I’ve been fine with the development of Spider-Man. The Ultimates are busy with one nation-threatening event after another, and the Fantastic Four skip jauntily from one sci-fi menace to the next, but neither group has built up much in the way of continuity. (The Ultimates would I think have built more, if only more had been written about them.) The X-Men, though… some I’ve liked, many I haven’t liked very much, but I never really looked at the series as a cohesive unit before, and I have to admit, for all the individual episodes I haven’t cared much about, the whole of it stands together really well. Somewhere along the way, no question, I started caring about these characters. If I’m right about this being the first signpost of things to come, I’m glad it happened here. Spider-Man’s story is too personal for world-shaking events, and the others are too scattered.