Girls Volume 3: Survival

Still off the grid, and I have a solid concern that I’ll end up repeating myself. I suppose it’s always possible I’ll end up re-writing the whole thing, and nobody will ever know of these thoughts flitting through my head as I prepare my review of the penultimate graphic novel in the Girls series, Survival. As I type this, I’m sitting in a small town about 40 miles northwest of the point where I-35 crosses into Oklahoma, a town not much larger than Pennystown in our story. And it’s pretty easy to feel cut off from the rest of the world here, even though I’m clearly not. Far more easy to feel that way if I was trapped behind an impenetrable sphere with a disturbingly familiar death monster in the middle and dozens of naked girls running around trying to kill any women they see and reproduce with any men. Probably even the arrival of military forces wouldn’t ease my concern overmuch.

But if I have to be trapped like that, I think I’d rather face all that stuff alone. Because as bad as bizarre sci-fi monsters and as horrible as all that sex would be (and, okay, once they started being daughters and granddaughters, it would be kind of horrible), my trapped fellows would be far worse. Refusing to work together, insisting on assigning blame and punishment in the midst of the crisis, putting together dangerous half-baked schemes without any real discussion or foresight… by this point in the series, there are only a handful of people that I want to see walk away alive. That is, I care whether the rest of the people live or die, it’s just that I’d prefer them dead.

On the bright side, there’s still a pretty good chance of that outcome.

Phantom

41zwvtAmaMLNormally, this is the point in the review where I’d be digging up my previous reviews and getting an idea of what I thought of the last few books in the Sword of Truth series[1] and what the tone of the pieces were. However, as I’ve been telling anyone who will listen, I’m currently off the grid. And since I didn’t make the entire contents of delirium.org available to myself offline before I left, well, you can see that I have no choice but to wing it.

Okay, then. Plot summary first, I guess. Phantom continues Richard Rahl’s search for his wife Kahlan, erased from everyone’s memories and perception via the Chainfire spell. As if that weren’t enough to deal with, the seemingly infinite army of the Imperial Order is nearing Richard’s army, which has no realistic chance to do more than momentarily slow their inexorable advance on the last free capital on the continent. He’s already lost his sword, and now someone is in the shadows, poised to steal the last advantage he has left. And I maintain that all of this could be pretty cool, tension-driven fantasy drama, if only it weren’t interspersed with the repetitive objectivist lesson plans disguised as storyline.

The Phantom in question is still supposed to be Kahlan, as you’d expect, though Goodkind shoehorns in a few other phantom references in other parts of the plot. (A bit clumsily, to be honest; if he’d used synonyms every now and then, it would have felt a lot less hammery, at least.) But the real phantoms of the book are the various strawmen against whom he’s arguing. It’s all fine and good to think that religion dulls people, that a focus on an unproven next world beyond death can be actively harmful to providing the best possible life for oneself, one’s neighbors, and one’s progeny. There’s an interesting debate there, and it can work even if you’re an author providing both sides of that argument. But it can’t work if your authorial position is that the logical conclusion of a religious focus is a communistic dystopia in which all beauty and knowledge is despised for taking peoples’ attention away from the afterlife and in which people can be easily brainwashed into believing that the wanton rape and murder of friends and enemies alike can be an expression of solidarity in collectively marching toward that goal beyond the veil. It’s not just that painting the opposite side as ravening beasts incapable of all rationality is insulting and ultimately detrimental to any persuasion, although it is those things too. It’s that it renders the entire counter-argument suspect, if the opposition needs to be placed in such an unattractive box for the authorial mouthpieces to be able to effectively debate their cause.

[1] Yes. Still. There’s a bright side, though, in that the next book is the final one, and I will at last be free!

The Bourne Ultimatum

Popular wisdom states that the Bourne series has redefined the spy thriller genre. And when you consider that the latest James Bond movie turned away from the action-adventure tropes that have been the series’ bread and butter for decades (power-hungry megalomaniacs bent on world domination, big explosions, fancy gadgets, and so forth) to focus on gritty reality and mental chess games with equally skilled opponents, well, it’s hard to argue. After all, except for a digression to fall in love, get his girlfriend killed, and bring down bloody revenge upon the heads of those responsible, Jason Bourne has hardly done anything except make move after inexorable move toward the answers to his missing identity, countered by and countering the monolithic CIA that has yet unrevealed reasons to prevent him from reaching his goal. Gritty reality, mental chess? Check and check.

And now it’s time for the checkmate. The Bourne Ultimatum picks up our hero back on the trail of himself, that goal once more his sole reason for being. Non-stop action accompanies his quest to track down a CIA leaker who seems to know far more about him than he has known about himself in years. His few friends are no better than grudgingly helpful, while his numerous and almost limitlessly funded enemies want only to see him dead and his mess once and for all under rug swept. Luckily for him, he was created for these kinds of odds.

The camera work was all handheld, which at first seemed like an odd choice. I know people say it’s more intimate, but that was only rarely appropriate to the subject matter. My theory is that if you’re used to the slightly shaky camera, then by the time the frenetic action scenes start up, your eye will have a much easier time following what’s happening, from all the practice it’s gotten. On balance, the movie itself transcended the fairly redundant plot. Sure, questions that have never yet been answered reach resolution, but it feels like we’ve spent all three movies to reach this point. And the movies have previously felt too distinct to suddenly be shoehorned into a trilogy now. But, as I said, despite the sense of retread, the constant adrenaline and the understated passionate intensity of the acting make up for all that.

Discussion topic for after the movie: Why do we have a primarily patriarchal religion, when men are always portrayed as ultimately seeking their forgiveness and redemption from the hands of women?

Sunshine (2007)

Sunshine is the kind of movie you see in Austin, or the San Francisco Bay Area, or maybe Vancouver. It’s got the art film look, but with the science fiction sensibilities to ground the plot from wandering as randomly as one expects from art films. Or, if you prefer, it’s a science fiction movie but without being constantly dank, dripping, and gloomy, nor impossibly pristine and modern, due to its latent art film sensibilities. In any case, it just feels more right to watch it in one of those places that is obsessed with both how movies look and whether they make a good story instead of just one (L.A.) or the other (Pittsburgh or New Jersey). Now that I’ve gotten my cinematic biases on the record, there’s also this movie to talk about.

In the future: the sun is getting dim, and humanity is unlikely to survive the worsening problem. Six years ago (let’s say), the Icarus was launched with a devastatingly vast nuclear payload and a mission to launch that payload into the sun in order to restart it. (This may or may not be based in science, and failures of adequate explanation may or may not be mine; but I don’t remember the movie going into details. They were not necessary to my enjoyment, in any case.) Except, the sun stayed relatively dark and nobody ever heard anything from them ever again. Now, it is the future-present, and the Icarus II is en route with a second vast nuclear payload that comprises the end of the earth’s capacity for creating sun-restarting bombs. Eight astronauts have the future of the species in their hands, and they are just entering the 16 months of interference-enforced radio silence as the tale opens.

I could ask you plot-leading questions that would reveal a little more of the story, but why bother? Either you’re into science-fictiony isolation stories or you’re not, and spoilers will not help to answer that question. The high points were how pretty it was and how tense it was. The low points were that the climactic scenes were just a touch clichéd (or possibly overdramatic instead; but not both) and also dove a little too far into metaphor for my personal taste. But nothing like how things went in Solaris. If anything, Sunshine redeemed the isolated spaceship drama for me, so don’t worry on that count. (And if you liked Solaris-the-film… really? Really?)

The Walking Dead: Safety Behind Bars

81oYvI9tEcLBack-to-back zombies! Pretty gross, right? Luckily, I mean books, not literal zombies. Although I suppose face-to-face or side-by-side would not be less icky, all things considered. Though probably less dangerous; who wants 360 degrees of brain-eating action coming at them? Since zombiism has not been romanticized the way that vampirism has: nobody, that’s who!

All of which is a roundabout way of mentioning I read another Walking Dead graphic novel. I’m seriously starting to appreciate the choice to present these in black and white. Images that would be over the top in color are appropriately horrible without; if pressed into guesswork, I’d say because the lack of red everywhere draws my attention back to the line-work. And there was a lot of horrible to behold. As the title indicates, Rick Grimes and company have finally found their shot at safety: a prison. Sure, it’s full of zombies now, but careful application of force can see it emptied out, leaving multiple security measures in place to prevent more of the undead from entering the grounds, ample space to spread out and form a community instead of a cluster of over-crowded and increasingly disaffected-with-each-other survivors, and more than enough open land to begin farming and herding while the weather holds. In short, it’s a latter-day paradise. Except… well, any details beyond that there’s a catch would be telling.

In short, I feel like it’s possible to view volume 2 as the transition novel I claimed it would be. Appropriate themes are back in full force in this story, and to shocking degree. (No lie: at one point, my jaw dropped open in surprise at a turn of events.) The tagline for the series claims, “in a world ruled by the dead, we are forced to finally begin living.” This is true, and it’s the one thing that I like the most in the entire disasturbation genre. But the additional theme that shows most strongly in zombie stories is that other people are far more dangerous those who survive the initial outbreak than zombies will ever be. I dig that one almost as much, which possibly is a reflection of my cynical nature. Be that as it may, my point here is that the author is not holding back anything in this particular regard.

Finally, a dislike. Rick’s pregnant wife is beginning to have real problems with both his assumption of the leadership position as well as with his choices as leader. It’s a little hard to watch, since I’m starting to actively like both characters. (Not Teckla hard, but hard.) But it’s really good character conflict, and I want to see where it leads, right? Except, they’ve spontaneously defused the tension via her admission that the pregnancy hormones are making her say things she really doesn’t mean, and she can see herself stepping over the line but is unable to prevent it. And I’m suddenly disappointed, both from the cessation of storyline possibilities and from the somewhat insulting explanation. I grant that hormones can run wild in fact, but having them do so in fiction with no consequences is both a cop-out and a little bit… well, not misogynistic per se, but at least anti-feminist, without even the excuse of it changing the plot in an important way. My only hope right now is that something will still come of these arguments, and she’s been exaggerating the hormonal excuse in a misguided attempt to be conciliatory and stop the hostilities instead of actually hashing things out.

The Simpsons Movie

The Simpsons Movie is proving pretty difficult to review without either running far too long or far too short. I could take forever talking about why the show is funny and why the movie is, or I could promise that if there was a time when you liked the show, you’ll like the movie, and only spend about a sentence. Neither of these is very palatable, and yet I’m mostly left without recourse. Because, even if I felt up to trying, who can explain humor? But to be clear, it was quite funny, and the humor was more apolitical than the show has been lately.

Plotwise, it was a little boilerplate. Homer makes a mistake with far-reaching consequences, and must make amends with his family. It worked well here, but I’m a little tired of it nonetheless, since it’s been happening more than once per season on the actual show. Lisa has her eye on a boy and the environment, Bart is reconsidering his paternal-figure options, and Springfield is trapped under a giant, impenetrable dome. So, except for the dome, yeah, we’ve been here. But it was funny enough that I’m revisiting events in my head now as I type these words and giggling all over again, days later.

Also: Spider-Pig! (The superhero, not a spider/pig hybrid. Good God!)

Day by Day Armageddon

One day, my Amazon Gold Box, tired of me consistently never buying Marvel Zombies even though it had been placed there daily for something that feels like a month, provided for my consideration a different zombie book entirely, Day by Day Armageddon. And I shrugged and went for it, since I don’t read all that many zombie books. Two previously? Well, plus the Walking Dead stuff. And a little bit of digging into my archives has revealed other instances too numerous to name, though in fairness most of them do not have zombies as the primary focus. (A Song of Ice and Fire, for example.) Anyway, I guess I read a lot of them after all, and this is an example of that. Whatever. The point is, I bought it.

Then it arrived, and it was obvious that it was self-published via a small press just by flipping it open and looking at the formatting. And I sighed at myself and grumped at Amazon for tricking me, and set it on the shelf. But, as eventually was bound to happen, I picked it up again when I wanted a quick read. It fulfilled that quotient easily. Written in journal-style, it tells the story of a nameless Navy pilot chronicling his growing awareness of and then struggle to survive the zombie apocalypse of 2004. After a rocky start in which there’s less narrative and more checklist of how to prepare your home and yourself for the end of the world, he finds and his voice and starts telling a reasonably good survival yarn. There are moral quandaries, derring is done, and as always seems to be the case in the good zombie stuff out there, people are revealed to be worse enemies than the zombies.

On the downside, editing is missing, especially close to the end. I convinced myself that the misspelled words and misused homonyms could be taken as authorial color, since it’s in a first-person journal and all. But it is still a little distracting to want to be shaking some guy and teaching him what words he really means when I should be sympathizing with his plight. The lesson I’m walking away with is that I should choose not to be one of the historians who is trying to piece together the key events of the zombiepocalypse in the decades and centuries after the fact, while humanity is rebuilding, because most such records will be far less legible than his.

Here’s the weird part, though. The book is currently out of print at Amazon, and there are five sellers that are trying to get about a hundred bucks for it. It’s decent, and I want to read the sequel and all. But it’s not brilliant on a vast global scale, like these people are trying to indicate. That’s about six times retail, there. This says to me that there are definitely people out there who have the zombie obsession going on (well, and also those Zombie Walk things say that), and that they are almost certainly less discriminating about quality than I am. If this book really is as much better than the other stuff out there (as the multiple high sellers hint that it is), then I’m in for some bleak days ahead, when I eventually pick up another random one based on nothing but the word ‘zombie’ being involved.

John Dies at the End

For the last few days, I’ve been reading a book online. As it happens, it’s available offline[3], almost.[1] But not quite. Which is somewhat of a pity, because I would have bought it already if I could have, instead of reading the whole thing online. However, I still figure I’m going to do the pre-order thing, early next month. Because I’d kind of like to have a copy available for loans as needed, and because I want to see more out of the guy.

John Dies at the End is the story of David Wong and his friend John, who accidentally discover the terrible secret that underlies reality and then spend their lives fighting against it and trying to stay sane and generally having a hell of a time.[2] It’s equal parts Lovecraft done as well as I’ve seen anybody do it and dry humor, with a ton of blood thrown in for good measure. And with characters whose well-being I cared about a good bit more than average. So, y’know, that sounds like a book, basically. And on top of that, I’m forced to admit that the plotting is a little loose towards the beginning and that some of the schtick is more dumb than funny. Still, though, that caring about the characters thing really did stick out more than I’m used to. There are several moments in a row, near the end, when my heart fell at the tragedy and then the sheer horror of the situation they were in. I guess what I’m saying is, the guy has real talent (albeit slightly unpolished), and I want to see him succeed and write more books and get better at it, because I’m pretty much going to love them. I mean, unless this was a fluke.

That would suck.

[1] You know. As a book. With pages and things.
[2] I should point out that the title of the book could be considered a spoiler by some people. Those people are pretty dumb, though. I should point that out, too.
[3] As of early 2022, the linked publisher no longer exists. The book is still able to be purchased, however, though physically is once again difficult.

Preacher: Dixie Fried

51nMX6pyRVLAfter getting side-tracked a couple of times by family matters and kidnapped friends, Jesse Custer has forcibly put himself back on his quest to find God and ask some pointed questions. Trouble is, he doesn’t really know how to go about the finding, and anyway, he still doesn’t really understand the thing in his head that started all of this. So he heads off to New Orleans to dig up a few answers. Which would probably work out fine, except one of Jesse’s and a few of Cassidy’s past (and present) mistakes are coming back to haunt them all.

Oh, I didn’t say what the hell I’m talking about there, did I? Just finished the fairly inexplicably-titled fifth Preacher volume, Dixie Fried. It was refreshing to get back to the driving force of the story, after the last book’s digression. And I did enjoy the plot twists. However, it felt a little thematically empty. If Tulip had had anything come along with the express purpose of biting her on the ass, I might have been able to cobble something together about mistakes and consequences. Plus, I’m not sure if I approve of the apparent change in Cassidy’s personality. (In case it’s not clear, Cassidy and Tulip are Jesse’s quest companions, not to mention vampire best friend and girlfriend, respectively.) So, there’s a slight dip in enjoyment happening. But the story itself I’m still on board for, so far.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

I honestly couldn’t tell you the last time I read a book this long this fast, although at a hunch I’d call it the sixth book of the same series. There’s something about being caught up in the flood of a cultural phenomenon that I really enjoy. For a few days (which basically predate this review), everyone has only this one thing on their minds. Well, maybe not literally everyone, but enough of everyone to annoy the holdouts. But at the end of all that, it’s still got to be talked about out of context as its own work, not merely as the reaction to the phenomenon. It has to be if you’re me, at least, since I do this thing.

I suppose the question is, does Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows live up to the hype of being the conclusion of a series worth billions of dollars that will eventually spawn seven movies worth additional billions of dollars and not incidentally the hype of being the fastest-selling book in history? Well. It probably doesn’t. I mean, come on, that’s an unreasonable amount of pressure, right? But does it live up to the expectations of a series that has purposefully set out to reflect the process of growing up, and maybe teach children a little bit about that, through the lens of a magical world under assault by an evil thought destroyed twenty years earlier but which had instead merely bided its time while its power slowly grew back under everyone’s noses, most people unwilling to believe it could happen again? And does it work as an England approaching World War II allegory at the same time? I’m gonna go with a resounding yes on that one.

I’m just saying, good stuff. It stopped being a children’s story books ago, but this one is probably a bit much even for some of the early teen set. It’s every bit as dark and as dire as it should be, to match with the stakes that Rowling has been implying for most of the series. And impressively, I found the conclusion satisfactory. That sounds like faint praise, but it shouldn’t be taken as such. I just wasn’t sure there would be any way that could happen, due to the unreasonable expectations I’ve mentioned previously. It’s not the great series of the age or anything, but, taken as a whole, it’s a really good fantasy series, and that’s not nothing.

Spoilers below the cut, not because I need them to finish the review: it’s pretty well done, I guess. But there are definitely things worth a mention. And when I say spoilers, I mean that I’m letting fly with plot-destruction of complete magnitude, here. Seriously. Continue reading