Marvel Infinite Comics: First Impression

I am a longtime comics fan, and over the years I've amassed a relatively large collection of singles that I am still putting off organizing and cataloguing. It used to be that there wasn't a week that you wouldn't find me in my local comics shop with a literal arm-full of comics ready to go.

Sadly, those days are passed. Days when I lived with my parents and didn't need money for anything other than my own entertainment. Now I apparently need to pay rent and other somewhat more grown-up things, and can't support the Habit any longer. Happily though, I wasn't forced to go completely cold turkey, thanks to my iPad. With it, I was able to download the occasional Annual Event and read it without having to buy another pallet to haul the things on. Even so, reading on the tablet was sometimes a pain. Yes, the colors were always gorgeous, but there was always the annoyance of having to switch between horizontal and vertical orientations, and whenever there was a gorgeous two-page spread you could only see half of it at a time.

But now Marvel is trying to change that. Infinite Comics is Marvel's latest attempt at doing something new and innovative in the publishing world. The concept is that they are enabling their own writers and artists to create comics specifically with the tablet reader in mind, allowing them to do things that would be impossible in a traditional paper comic.

The potential for this is astounding, and incredibly exciting in my mind. Not only will the art be drawn with the tablet size in mind, eliminating the constant flipping and panning and zooming that is necessitated by so many comics now (especially anything written by Brian Michael Bendis), but they can actually unveil word balloons, panels, character expressions, and much more at the pacing that the story requires. No longer will you be going back and forth between word balloons trying to figure out the order of the dialogue, or trying to look past the dialogue clutter to the art beneath it, this will all be done for you.

Now, it remains to be seen how necessary or even whether this is actually a good thing, but as a concept I love it. So far, they have only released one pilot issue for the line, Avengers v X-Men #1 Infinite, a story that runs concurrently with the non-Infinite issue. I read it last night, and I must say I enjoyed it thoroughly. The art was absolutely gorgeous, with colors that popped and space used in such a way that it was just a pleasure to look at. Stuart Immonen really did a fantastic job with the art, while Marte Garcia outdid himself with the coloring.

The story itself is very good, andthey really did a great job using the tools available to them. While I'm writing this I've been flipping through the issue again, not really reading anything but just looking at the transitions and the art itself, and I've noticed something. More than once, they actually unveil the panels in a non-sequential reading order. What I mean by that is that instead of simply reading from left to right as we traditionally do, they actually unveil panel 1 in the left, panel 2 on the right, and panel 3 in the center, overlapping panels 1 and 2.

Later, as Nova loses consciousness the screen goes to black, and as you page forward things slowly come into focus as he begins to awaken. This is a great example of something that, while technically possible in a more traditional format, is not nearly as effective if you are simply looking at different pictures one page after another that slowly gain focus.

Is this actually some "revolutionary" new step in the medium? That's harder to say, and while this first foray doesn't quite peg it as such, it does point the way towards something that could indeed be the future of the industry. I eagerly look forward to the next issue in the line, and I actually can't believe I'm saying this, but...

Good job Quesada. Oh man, I think I ripped something when I said that.

Bitter Seeds (Milkweed Triptych #1): Review

Gasp! What is this, another blog entry? Could it be?

Yes, I know, it's been a long time since the last post, which had been an even longer time since the one before that. Apologies, gentle readers (imaginary though you may be), but I have been busy preparing for April's Scriptfrenzy challenge (a widget for which can be found on the far right sidebar), which began yesterday. I'll post more of that, with possible excerpts from my work in progress later. For now though, let's review Bitter Seeds. Join me, won't you?

Bitter Seeds, by Ian Tregillis, is an alternate-history story set in World War II, in a world that the supernatural really does exist in. The Nazis have put together a team of super-soldiers, each with a different ability. Think of it as a dieselpunk Nazi X-Men. One man has the power of flight, another pyrokinesis, and a third the ability to walk through walls. Then there is the girl who can become invisible, and most important of all, the young woman that can see the future. These abilities are not free to use though, instead they have wires implanted into their skulls which pump electricity straight into their brains from a battery they must wear on their belts.

Thanks to this, the course of the war is changed. I won't go into how it is, suffice to say that in this altered timeline, the Nazis are taking Europe by storm, and the only nation willing to fight them is Great Britain, itself battered and almost crippled. So they seek out their own weapon of unnatural means: a secret order of Warlocks who commune with the very forces of Reality.

They don't perform magic, per se. Instead they communicate and make deals with a race of "aliens" (or extradimensional beings, whatever) who are able to shape the fabric of reality at their will. For a price. And this price is always, always in blood.

Bitter Seeds is not a lighthearted read. The reader is treated to sections from both sides point of view, a tactic which humanizes both, treating both the British protagonists and the Nazi antagonists as humans, characters that are introduced as children who are moulded to fit a life by the men who raised them. None of the main characters are good, nor are they evil really. They walk a fine line in a world shaded by grays, and must deal with the consequences of their actions.

I really enjoyed Bitter Seeds, and while it was not perfect, Ian Tregillis crafted an excellent first novel, the first in a trilogy. Do I want to see what happens next? Absolutely. But I think I might need a break from the bleakness of this new world, and seek entertainment elsewhere before continuing on in the sequel, the Coldest War.

If you are interested in alternate-histories of World War II (and beyond), enjoy a supernaturally charged book that feels almost too real to actually be dubbed as true "dieselpunk" or urban fantasy of any sort, then I would highly recommend this debut novel.

Rating: 7/10

Note on Edition: I listened to the edition produced by Audible Frontiers, narrated by Kevin Pariseau. A quick word on this edition; when I first began to listen to Mr. Pariseau's narration, I really did not enjoy it. But as soon as we got into the real dialogue, and the meat of the story, that turned around. His accents, while a little colorful for the German characters, were nonetheless interesting and well done. He impressed me with his range, and if you are a big audio book person (like I am), then you will enjoy his rendition.

Narration: 8/10

The Valley of Fear: A Review

We reach the end of the cycle of Sherlock Holmes novels with the Valley of Fear, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. In it, we are treated to two separate, but related, stories. The first follows Holmes and Watson as they investigate a gruesome murder that is somehow related to the dreadful Professor Moriarty (despite the fact that his involvement creates a pretty big continuity error and/or retcon on Doyle's part), which is followed by a story of organized crime in the good old US of A.

the Valley of Fear is an interesting read, and I'll be honest, I didn't like it at first. The mystery with Holmes and Watson was all well and good; the American sawed-off shotgun as the murder weapon and the possible involvement of Moriarty made for an interesting case. I liked where it was going, though I was not surprised in the least by the conclusion.

Then the story shifts gears, and we are treated to the recollections of a man who spent time in a place nicknamed the "Valley of Fear" by many of the locals, a place that is run by a secret society that has no problems killing people that refuse to pay protection money. I won't go too much further into the details for fear of spoiling the twist that made the story worthwhile, suffice to say that the end of this diversion was both interesting and a nice turn that made for a good story, overall.

While this is certainly better than the Sign of the Four, I rate it at about even with A Study in Scarlet, which it shares the same structure with. Despite this, it is nowhere near the level of the Hound of the Baskervilles, which remains the best of the Holmes canon that I have read so far.

An entertaining read, if you like reading of the adventures of Holmes and Watson, and if you enjoyed A Study in Scarlet at all, then you will certainly enjoy this. That said, this is probably not a great starting place for a newcomer.

Rating: 7/10

the Lies of Locke Lamora: Review

Enter a world built upon the ruins of an ancient, grand race of beings that have disappeared a millennia before. Men and women live upon the bones of another civilization, toiling away at making enough money to eat while praying to the Twelve that a plague doesn't strike their district, wiping out every adult within, leaving the children orphans and ripe for the pickings of slavers and the roving gangs.

The Thiefmaker takes these orphans, and, as the name may suggest, makes thieves of them. As they grow and become proper thieves, they are sold to the disparate gangs of Camorr where they make a living as pickpockets and robbers. Thus enters Locke Lamora, seven, who the Thiefmaker immediately sells to the enigmatic priest Chains, the leader of the Gentleman Bastards, and the criminal landscape of Camorr changes forever.

Before I get into my actual feelings of this book, I would just like to say that I grew up reading fantasy. In elementary school my father gave me a copy of J.R.R. Tolkien's the Hobbit, and fell in love. A year or two later, I inherited a beaten but well-loved leather copy of the Lord of the Rings. I fell in love all over. For well over a decade I devoted myself to reading whatever fantasy novels I could get my hands on, while reading everything that Tolkien had ever written over and over again.

I then happened upon David Gemmell's Drenai Saga, and fell in love with heroic fantasy fiction. I consumed the host of books containing scores of violent anti-heroes, brooding men who were good only thanks to the soft touch of a woman.

Unfortunately, I grew tired of the genre after highschool, and became enamored with the works of Heinlein and his peers in the science fiction community. I know that this sounds like it has little to do with the story I have set forth to review, but I present my background in order to more clearly state my case.

the Lies of Locke Lamora is a breath of fresh air in a genre that falls again and again to a score of tropes set forth by Tolkien decades ago, and little improved upon. There is no hero here battling a grand evil, no brooding reluctant champion. Just a man that can't really fight very well, but was born with a silver tongue and a mind for mischief.

The city of Camorr, and the world that it inhabits, is pretty obviously based off of a late renaissance era Venice, and regularly makes reference to the Therin Throne, a fantasy-Rome. The city is built upon the ruins of an alien race that disappeared a thousand years before, leaving behind grand structures of unbreakable glass that humans have claimed as their own. Magic exists, but is rare and monopolized by a sect of mercenary-wizards. Alchemy is common-place, and allows for a great deal of interesting plant hybrids and chemical curiosities.

The world is richly detailed and a wonder to explore, but the concept is what really thrilled me. Locke Lamora and his group of Gentleman Bastards are confidence men in a world that is just discovering the concept. Trained from childhood to rob from the most rich, they go from one noble to the next spinning one lie upon another until they sit atop a mountain of gold. The plot is fascinating, and continually keeps you guessing.

If you like a story revolving around a smartass, immoral, overconfident jerk that still somehow sets out to do what is right for him and his own, this book is your ticket. It has a good sense of humor, a welcome detailed world to sink into, and a new twist on an old genre that kept me smiling throughout. Scott Lynch has spun a tale worthy of a seasoned veteran, and has well impressed me with this first attempt. I look forward to reading the next book, and eagerly await the next releases which have (unfortunately) been too long in coming. Though I do part with words of caution: if you are put off by foul language, foul action, and the thought of people being drowned in barrels of horse urine, then maybe this book isn't for you. But for the rest of us, in the words of the Gentlemen Bastards themselves:

To us, richer and cleverer than everyone else!

Rating: 9/10