GRAPHIC NOVEL and TRADE PAPERBACK (TPB) REVIEWS

Soul Stealer 2008 (SC GN) 148 pages

Written by Michael Easton. Illustrated by Christopher Shy.
Editor: Jason Park.

Rating: * * (out of 5)

Number of readings: 2

Additional notes: intro by novelist Peter Straub

Suggested for mature readers

Published by DMF Comics

There have been a lot of people in comics in the last few years claiming that the old monthly comic is on the way out and the graphic novel is the future of the medium. That even though series are still published as monthly periodicals, their true destination is a collected edition down the line. It's also been pointed out that in Europe and Japan the graphic novel has long since replaced the thinner comic -- even when these "novels" are simply instalments in an on going series. .

And a book like Soul Stealer seems to be part of that movement. Because this is 148 page original graphic novel -- the contents not having first seen life as a serialized comic -- yet it is not a stand alone effort, but inside even bills itself as simply "Book One" of a proposed series.

Fully painted -- or photoshopped -- it's about Kalan, a man born thousands of years before but who currently wanders the streets of a near future New York pining for his lost true love who, like him, is timelost and somewhere out in the world. In it you can probably detects echoes of everything from The Highlander films to the Crow comics to the legend of Orpheus.

I mentioned that this is a whopping 140-some pages and sees itself as the beginning of something. That's important. Because, frankly, very little actually happens in these pages. Between writer (and actor and sometime poet) Michael Easton's vague, sometimes inarticulate story and artist Christopher Shy's out-of-focused images where the same faces are recycled panel after panel, reminiscent of Dave McKean (and not in a good way), even when something does occur -- it's often hard to know what, exactly. But even after a second reading, once I had a better grasp on what was supposed to be going on, one can't escape the feeling that the same material could've been squeezed into a regular comic -- or maybe two.

There are some sort of interesting, but only vaguely articulated ideas in Soul Stealer -- but ideas that in and of themselves aren't exactly that fresh or original. We get a flashback to Kalan's Iron Age origins, as he falls in battle to the demonic Apis Bull who kills both him and his lover, Oxania. And they are both resurrected, but separated -- apparently for millennia, partly due to the capricious whim of the Gods (borrowing names from the Egyptian pantheon, with a few nods to Judeo-Islamic-Christianity). But it's all kind of fuzzy why -- Kalan is both a favourite of the Gods, but also ticks them off. There's a lot in the book that is like that, either as if Easton hadn't really thought it through himself, or knew it so well he forget to explain it to us. At one point, toward the end, a woman confronts Kalan and says that a priest has warned her about him. But it's not clear how this priest would know anything about him. Heck -- even the reader still isn't really sure what his supernatural abilities are at that point or what he does with them. Midway through the book, he is summoned to a meeting by someone who wants his assistance...but that person never shows up so it doesn't really add to the story, or our understanding (you can learn more about the story reading the back cover blurb than reading the story itself!). So Kalan just mopes about, has a few flashbacks to his origin, and pines for the lost Oxania -- but doesn't really seem to have any plan on how to look for her. Eventually Apis Bull shows up again for a "climactic" battle...but again, with little logic for how or why (again, I suppose, it's put down to the unknowable whims of the Gods). .

There are even a few technical inconsistencies, like the whole book being narrated by Kalan in the first person -- except for one scene where Kalan leaves a room and the caption describes things he can't see. Easton is deliberately writing in a pretentious way -- the poet in him, I guess. So people say things like: "You're drunk with memory and there's darkness in your soul." Dialogue like that isn't very realistic...without being lyrical enough to work on a more heightened level.

And all this is compounded by Shy's art, which is supposed to be haunting and moody. And it is...sort of. It's also just kind of murky and repetitious and not really very good at storytelling. And let's face it, a comic book artist is first and foremost a storyteller. Instead, settings are often dark and blurred, while Shy just recycles the same faces over and over, so there are few changes of expression in the entire story, and he colours over the figures with lines and scratches so people often look like they're sporting Maori tattoos. A lot of the images look like he's playing with photographs, while occasionally borrowing poses from old Conan paperback novel covers by Frank Frazetta and Ken Kelley.

And perhaps writer and artist cancel each other out. Maybe Easton's airy script paired with rich and detailed images would've worked, or a textured and nuanced script coupled with Shy's vague, dream-like images could've been effective. But all it is is a vague script coupled with vague art.

There isn't a lot of action, per se -- despite my referring to fight scenes, there are only about two or three in the whole book (and are hard to make out). And other than Kalan, there isn't too much in the way of personalities, and even Kalan isn't really defined that much beyond his melancholy. It would be easier to get caught up in the tragedy of his starcrossed romance...if we cared about him more.

This bills itself as "Book One", and does indeed have the feel of a "pilot" -- just establishing the premise. But so little happens here, and there's so little indication where it would go or what it would do when it got there, that it's hard to get excited about a "Book Two".

Now, after that thoroughly negative review, let me point out an obvious point. I likened it to both The Highlander film and the visuals to Dave McKean of Arkham Asylum fame. Well, guess what? I didn't like Highlander and I didn't like Arkham Asylum. Soooo...if you did like those, you just might find something in this that I didn't.

And good luck to you.

Cover price: $19.99 USA

Starslammers 1983 (SC GN), 64 pgs

Written and drawn by Walter Simonson.
Colours: Louise Simonson, Deborah Pedler. Letters: John Workman. Editors: Al Milgrom, Mary Jo Duffy.

Rating: * * (out of 5)

Number of readings: 2

Published by Marvel Comics in over-sized tabloid format.

Space opera about a planet of elite inter-galactic mercenaries who had been an oppressed people, and now use their new calling (and the money and weapons they collect as payment) as preparation for going to war with the planet that had oppressed them.

If you ever thought "Star Wars" was too jingoistic and warlike, then you'll definitely hate The Starslammers. Walt Simonson, whether reflecting his own philosophy or just escapist entertainment, indulges in a kind of macho diatribe that, frankly, seems weird and even uncomfortable in the latter part of the 20th Century. The story's peopled by Macho-He-Men (and He-Women), talking about "true men", where human worth seems literally to be measured by an individual's fighting prowess. The "heroes" are mercenaries whose greatest dream is to commit genocide against their (admittedly sleazy) enemies.

The plot seems more of a build up to a story than the story itself. The characters aren't well defined, or even memorable, and the overall results cold. The story takes itself too seriously, lacking any kind of swashbuckling jauntiness that would, at least, make the Starslammers fun on a non-think level.

Still, if all that sounds like fun, Walt Simonson is certainly a fine artist and a competent, if unexceptional, dialogist. Simonson later returned to the premise a decade later with an (ultimately unfinished) mini-series set, apparently hundreds of years later (meaning it's not really a direct sequel).

The Starslammers was published in oversized, tabloid format as a Marvel Graphic Novel.

Original cover price: $6.96 CDN./$5.95 USA  

Stickleback
   For my review at www.ugo.com, go here.

Pocket Book Reprint Swamp Thing Published in 1982 by Tor Books - Black & White Reprinting: Swamp Thing (1st series) #1-3 (1973) Written by Len Wein. Illustrated by Berni Wrightson. Letters: unknown. Editor: Joe Orlando. This book reprints the first three issues of the original Swamp Thing comic (and for a better review, just scroll down to the next entry). These early tales mixed adventure with gothic horror as the misunderstood protagonist battled agents of a sinister criminal cartel, genetic horrors, and a Balkan mad scientist. They tell of how Holland became the swamp creature, and introduce such pivotal figures as Abigail, Matt Cable, and villain Arcane. There's a lot of mood at work here, and it's easy to see why the early Swamp Thing was regarded as something like a near classic. Wein's deft dialogue mixed with his literary, imagery-heavy style and Wrightson's eerie, shadow-drenched art, at once beautiful and grotesque, weave together well. Most of these type of pocket books are printed in black and white, and usually the hope is the lack of colour won't hurt the stories too much. But here, I'd argue, the stark black on white imaging actually adds to the ambience. These stories are more atmospheric than other, colour, Swamp Thing stories I've read. Strangely, the third story, "The Patchwork Man", strikes me as the weakest. Strange, because in many ways, it's the most emotionally rich, the most poignant -- not just compared to the first stories, but later ones too. It just seems to drag a bit, perhaps because, unlike many of Wein's other stories, there are no twists or surprises lying in wait. The story, following a character even more tragic than the Swamp Thing, unfolds rather predictably. It also takes place in sunny climes, which may bleed away some of the mood. Still, being the lesser of the three is no crime -- they're all good. Of course, the sub-plott, involving the sinister Conclave organization, doesn't resolve in these three stories, but they're well worth reading, nonetheless. With these pocket book reprints, often panels are trimmed to fit into the new format, but here, in addition, some panels are actually expanded. There are a few panels here and there that, when originally drawn by Wrightson, cut off at the waist, but legs have been added -- cruder legs, clearly not drawn by Wrightson.

Swamp Thing: Dark Genesis 1991 (SC TPB) 250 pgs.

Written by Len Wein. Illustrated by Berni Wrightson. Inks by Wrightson and others.
Colours/letters: various. Editor: Joe Orlando.

Reprinting: Swamp Thing (1st series) #1-10 (1973), and a story from House of Secrets #92

Rating: * * * * (out of 5)

Number of readings: 2 (some stories more)

Published by DC Comics

Long before the current Swamp Thing (who I gather is supposed to be the daughter of the first), long before the '80s revival that turned our photosynthesicatical hero into an Elemental swamp-entity, there were these original, more tragic-tinged tales of Dr. Alec Holland, bio-chemist, who is turned into a muck-encrusted mockery of a man...a...a...Swamp Thing!

These were written at a time when mainstream comics were first experimenting with looser Comics Code guidelines. A slew of cross-genre characters were introduced, mixing horror with super-hero conventions from Ghost Rider to Werewolf by Night to Man-Thing (the strikingly similar Marvel character that pre-dated Swamp Thing by a few months...and a character I was actually more fond of).

The first story has Holland and his wife, Linda, working on a radical formula for accelerating plant growth in the Louisiana Bayou. When Holland refuses an offer made by a sinister cartel known as the Conclave, he is blown up in his lab, resulting in his body mixing with his chemicals and the neighbouring swamp, and being reborn as a monstrous plant creature, largely incapable of speech, but with his mind intact. Linda is killed by the Conclave agents and F.B.I. agent Matt Cable starts hunting the Swamp Thing, blaming it for the Hollands' deaths. Thus begins the saga.

The subsequent stories continue the threads of Cable's pursuit of the Swamp Thing, literally across the world (and hooking up with the lovely Abigail Arcane), unaware the Conclave is keeping an eye on him. Those threads seem a little contrived at times, or as if Wein was making it up as he went along (which he probably was).

Cable and the Hollands are on a formal, last-name basis in issue one, but by the third issue, Cable is referring to them as having been his best friends (though that could be seen as a telling comment on Cable's lack of close relationships). Even then, it's not clear how or why he attributes the deaths of the Hollands to the Swamp Thing. Still, one can't help but assume the makers of the 1970s "Incredible Hulk" TV series were thinking of Cable when they invented reporter McGee.

Swampys' decision to elude Cable fluctuates from story to story, from a general moroseness, to a determination that, with his limited vocal prowess, he'd be unable to convince anyone, to a belief that his bio-restorative formula must never be rediscovered.

The Conclave stuff is kind of thin as well, a sub-plot largely missing a...plot.

But those are only minor points. The strengths of the Swamp Thing were the issue-by-issue stories. Adventures mixing gothic horror and dark fantasy with evocative titles like "The Last of the Ravenwind Witches", "The Patchwork Man" and others. Wein's use of mood-setting description ("Dawn rolls in with a whimper, spreading shimmering fingers of scarlet across the snow-capped Balkan landscape like a blind man feeling his way.") would probably be unheard of in the modern, cinematic way of writing comics -- but a lot of the series' mood derives froom those purple passages. The frequently surreal stories remain oddly memorable for the most part, tales of Swampy stumbling upon isolated communities where, for the sake of the narrative, he is accepted unquestioningly as often as he is repelled as a monster -- communities with weird secrets, some terrible, some more uplifting. Usually wrapping up with one of Wein's clever twists.

Berni Wrightson's eerie, shadow-drenched art, at once beautiful and grotesque, full of rain-soaked swamps, bizarre architecture and equally bizarre people, was well-suited to the material, giving it a Gothic, period flavour even though the series was set in modern times. At its best his art combined with Wein's prose to draw you in to Swampy's haunting reality. Even the lettering is used to add to the ambience, often drawn in ragged boxes.

Together they could, surprisingly, make even cliches fresh. One of the best stories, "Monster on the Moors", is a simple, old fashioned werewolf tale.

The weakest tale is "Night of the Bat" (#7), which served as the climax to the Conclave sub-plot and brings super hero Batman into the saga. Unfortunately, it's an awkward fit. Leaving behind the dark fantasy genre, the story has Swamp Thing prowling the streets of Gotham, playing detective, hanging out in bars, supposedly interrogating thugs for clues (how a creature who is largely mute can interrogate someone, Wein never answers). I've often thought of Wein as one of my favourite Batman writers, but I never really felt Batman worked here (though I realize this may've been before Wein had tackled the character in his own mags) and Wrightson's art is less-well suited to the superhero milieu. And the basic plot lacks the climactic feel one would expect for a confrontation that had been building for seven issues.

The final issue is also one of my least favourites. Swamp Thing, as presented here, was more Gothic horror, genteel in its way, grotesque but not gory, while later writers like Alan Moore would infuse the series with more modern sensibilities, an ugliness evoking Clive Barker more than Mary Shelley, Stephen King more than H.P. Lovecraft. However, "The Man Who Would Not Die" is a somewhat more unpleasant tale evoking old EC horror comics, in concepts and visuals. Perhaps significantly, though written by Wein, the story is credited to Wrightson.

Of course, there are interesting side points to ponder. Swamp Thing came out around the same time as Man-Thing (and both owe origins to a '40s character called the Heap), and Wein's descriptions of Swampy, of his misshapen limbs, and his penchant to leave trails of slime, all evoke the Man-Thing...but not the way Wrightson drew Swamp Thing who, other than a pot belly, looks reasonably well-formed, and not particularly slimy at all!

As an added bonus, included is a short story by Wein and Wrightson that first introduced the concept of the Swamp Thing (from House of Secrets). It's not supposed to be considered part of the same reality, but it's interesting to see the beginnings of the idea.

Overall, though uneven in spots, there's no denying the atmosphere of these curious little tales. Though, admittedly, by the end of this collection -- which reprints the entire run of stories drawn by Wrightson -- there's a sense the series was running out of steam.

Though the series gained greater acclaim when Alan Moore turned the premise on its head in the '80s and had Swamp Thing revealed as being an elemental -- not Alec Holland at all -- I think these early tales are a reminder of something that was lost in the change. A layer of poignancy, and a universal resonance as Holland sought what we all seek (if less literally)...acceptance, and to assert his humanity.

All of these issues have been reprinted before, including in a 1985 5 issue, deluxe mini-series, Roots of the Swamp Thing.

Cover price: $__ CDN./$19.95 USA

Swords of the Swashbucklers  1984 (SC GN) 64 pages

Written by Bill Mantlo. Illustrated by Jackson Guice.
Colours: Alfred Ramirez. Letters: Ken Bruzenak. Editor: Archie Goodwin, Mary Jo Duffy.

Rating: * * (out of 5)

Number of readings: 1

Published by Marvel Comics (graphic novel #14) in over-sized tabloid format.

On modern earth, a spunky young girl uncovers an ancient alien device on the beach which sends out a signal...CUT TO: a distant galaxy where a race called Colonizers goes around, well, colonizing unsuspecting planets. The only force that stands up to them are pirates who are only marginally better, ethically speaking. Chief among these pirates is Raader, a half-human/half-alien lady pirate, and her multi-species crew who pick up the mysterious signal from beyond the "space cloud" where no ships have ever gone before. Or so they thought.

The intent here was to unapologetically transpose a pirate saga into space, married with the usual (and usually problematic) wish-fulfillment element of a human teen-ager thrown in -- a teen who, because it's a comicbook, and comics are ruled by superheroes, develops a superpower. I don't object to the idea of space pirates, but by plopping the idea so literally into the science fiction milieu (right down to the space ships looking like sailing vessels and the pirates brandishing swords while uttering lines about "me hearties") there's a feeling of: why bother? Why not just do a pirate comic -- something which has rarely, if ever, been tried before?

Swords of the Swashbucklers led into a 12 issue mini-series and, frankly, that intention shows...rather to the detriment of this graphic novel. As a stand alone work, it's not much. Most of the questions that are introduced over the course of this book are left unanswered by the end, and writer Bill Mantlo and artist Jackson Guice seem sufficiently preoccupied with just introducing the relevant elements (the premise, the main characters), that they don't put much effort into crafting an interesting story in and of itself. There're a couple of battles, a visit to the pirate world, etc. But everything's workmanlike at best. There're no scenes that, after the fact, make you go, "Gee, wasn't it cool when...?" When Raader's ship, the Starshadow, breaches the ominous and mysterious space cloud...well, nothing actually happens.

This is less a story than the bare bones of an idea. It's the sort of thing you pitch to your editor, but should embellish upon long before publication.

This was created by Mantlo and Guice, who, I believe, collaborated in the later days of the old Micronauts comic. In an afterward we're given the impression they were keen to do it. Which is a sad reminder that just because something is close to one's creative heart, doesn't mean it'll be one's best work. The writing is a tad bland, the tempo weighed down with kind of pointless captions that often reiterate what we can easily glean from the pictures and the dialogue, and are written in a flat manner, to boot.

Guice's art is O.K., but likewise a bit flat and it never really enlivens the characters...not that there's much characterization to illustrate. It doesn't help that, though the colours are beautiful, there seems to have been a problem with the printing process, often causing the colours to be a millimetre over from where they should be. Though Guice does throw in a cute visual in-joke, with one of the pirates in the background looking like Cerebus the Aardvark.

Ultimately this is a story in which we continually observe the action, but the writing and art never quite draw us into it. There's not much plot or characteriation in what amounts to a teaser for a subsequent mini-series.

Cover price: $6.95 CDN. / $5.95 USA.

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