The millenial end-of-the-world soap opera continues in "The Nice House By The Sea", James Tynion IV's follow-up to his series "The Nice House on the LThe millenial end-of-the-world soap opera continues in "The Nice House By The Sea", James Tynion IV's follow-up to his series "The Nice House on the Lake".
It turns out the survivors of the apocalypse at the lake house aren't the only survivors. The alien overlords who spared them have several other "cells" of humans scattered throughout the world, and it's survival of the fittest to see which cell saves humanity.
It's angsty, emo, and downright annoying at times, but it's intriguing as fuck and I can't stop reading anything by Tynion......more
Virtually identical in theme to "Memetic", James Tynion IV's 2016 graphic novel series "Cognetic" is another entertaining apocalyptic human hive-mind Virtually identical in theme to "Memetic", James Tynion IV's 2016 graphic novel series "Cognetic" is another entertaining apocalyptic human hive-mind story involving aliens. And when I say virtually identical, it seems like the same story only with different characters. It even ends with nearly-identical imagery and the same lack of hope for humanity.
These were, of course, early Tynion stories. He has since honed and better-articulated some of his views on hive-mind, the singularity, and the apocalypse in series like "Worldtr33" and "The Nice House on the Lake"....more
If you've ever thought that things aren't right with the world, that something is off, that half the people in this country are fucking nuts, then ClaIf you've ever thought that things aren't right with the world, that something is off, that half the people in this country are fucking nuts, then Clay McLeod Chapman's horror novel "Wake Up and Open Your Eyes" may help to confirm those thoughts. But, be forewarned: falling down this rabbithole may be fun, but it will leave one emotionally scarred if not traumatized for life.
"WUAOYE" is a not-so-thinly-veiled criticism of Q-Anoners, Trumpers, FOX News viewers, and anybody who spends way too much time on electronic devices to the point that they view the world solely through their myopic echo-chamber of lies and distorted reality that the Internet provides. It is a clever novel, one that some readers will chuckle or guffaw over, but it is by no means meant to simply be a satirically funny work of fiction. Chapman is certainly making fun of ultra-Right conservatives, but he also doesn't let the liberals off easily.
The novel follows Noah Fairchild, a New York liberal husband and father who has gradually become estranged from his parents and his brother's family who live in the country. Over the years, their FOX news-fuelled anti-liberal, anti-gay, anti-immigrant, anti-intellectual worldviews have taken their toll on Noah. Then, one day, he receives a weird phone call from his mom about "The Great Reawakening". He travels to their home to check on them, only to step into a global nightmare of violence and debauchery.
If, when reading this novel, it seems reminiscent of Stephen King's novel "Cell" or Garth Ennis's graphic novel series "Crossed", it's probably intentional, as Chapman cites an entire bibliography in his "Acknowledgements" of fiction and nonfiction books, TV shows, and movies that he references---via fun little Easter eggs that horror afficionadoes will definitely catch---throughout the novel.
Chapman's brilliance in this novel is that while he hints at explanations (extraterrestrial, demonic, AI run amok) he also makes it quite clear that it doesn't matter. The train went off the rails decades ago, and this is just the end result that we all secretly saw coming but were too blinded by denial or stupidity to do anything about it....more
Lydia Gregovic's debut novel "The Monstrous Kind" is, essentially, Bridgerton with zombies, although that description is a bit reductive and fails to Lydia Gregovic's debut novel "The Monstrous Kind" is, essentially, Bridgerton with zombies, although that description is a bit reductive and fails to take into account the strange beauty of the novel.
Gregovic clearly loves, and is heavily inspired by, the works of Jane Austen. As an unabashed Austen fan myself, I have a great respect for what Gregovic is doing. To be fair, other authors have done this before; most notably, Seth Grahame-Smith's 2009 parody novel "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies", which was exactly what it sounds like.
I loved Graham-Smith's novel for what it was, but it must be noted that Gregovic is doing something very different in "The Monstrous Kind".
Through fascinating and well-constructed world-building, Gregovic has created a completely unique genre piece that is a mash-up of two genres (Victorian romance and zombie apocalypse) that is done so seamlessly as to almost create its own genre.
The plot---like most Austen-esque plots---is a bit complicated to explain in depth. Like most Austen novels, it involves the relationship between sisters, a love story, and a not-so-subtle castigation of Victorian high society.
The horror backdrop: the novel is set over a hundred years after what can only be assumed is a global event (any contact with the outside world no longer exists, so it's unknown what is happening elsewhere) called the Turning, in which an oppressive fog surrounded the British Isles. Inhabitants managed to push back the fog with giant bonfires and continuously-burning lanterns that surround what is left of the country. That was just the beginning.
For some unfortunate inhabitants, the fog "infected" them by turning them into violent zombies that survivors call "Phantoms". A small percentage of the population appear to be immune to the effects of the fog. These select few immune families created the 12 houses which rule the country. Together, they have created a new government called the Council, housed in New London, built from the literal ashes of old London. They are responsible for the well-being and protection of the surviving inhabitants of the country.
Gregovic took a big risk in creating this genre mash-up, but it ultimately yields rewards. This is a fun, fascinating young adult novel that has the potential to be a series....more
The world’s gone to Hell in a hand basket, and the only think that can save it is Swamp Thing. Like, Duh…
Jeff Lemire’s “Swamp Thing: Green Hell” is a The world’s gone to Hell in a hand basket, and the only think that can save it is Swamp Thing. Like, Duh…
Jeff Lemire’s “Swamp Thing: Green Hell” is a pretty depressing look at a very believable future for the human race: devastation from massive natural disasters brought on by global warming, global drought and starvation, a majority of the population wiped out by warfare.
The Parliaments have all pretty much given up on humanity because humanity gave up on them decades ago. What’s left of the Parliaments have decided to just eradicate the small pockets of humanity left on Earth.
A grizzled, ancient John Constantine (who still wears a trench coat and tie and manages to always have a pack of cigarettes) summons Swampy from his protective secret garden where he and his wife, Abby, and their daughter, Tefe, live sequestered from the rest of the world. Swampy’s pissed, but he’s more surprised at the shape the world is in.
Swampy’s like “What the—-?” And Constantine’s like “Right?” And then all literal Hell breaks loose.
Fun cameos from Deadman, Animal Woman (Animal Man’s daughter, all growed up), and the Legions of Hell led by Lucifer himself, who struck a deal with Constantine.
Lots and lots of blood and guts and carnage in this. Definitely not for the squeamish....more
In this, the fourth volume of James Tynion's The Department of Truth: the former head of the Soviet equivalent of the Department of Truth, the MinistrIn this, the fourth volume of James Tynion's The Department of Truth: the former head of the Soviet equivalent of the Department of Truth, the Ministry of Lies, meets with Lee Harvey Oswald and warns him that the Cold War may be over but the fallout may be more dangerous; Cole's husband is approached by the bad guys and Cole convinces Oswald to maybe use this to their advantage...
Things are coming to a head in this very timely and frightening political horror series from Tynion, who has about four or five titles currently in the works, and all of them are riveting. ...more
Nothing says Christmas like kids dying of leukemia, Mexican drug cartel assassins, unbelievably graphic torture scenes, racism, demon-possessed MexicaNothing says Christmas like kids dying of leukemia, Mexican drug cartel assassins, unbelievably graphic torture scenes, racism, demon-possessed Mexican witches, and a six-way shootout in the New Mexico desert. Oh, and: trigger warnings!
Gabino Iglesias’s novel “The Devil Takes You Home” is chicken soup for the sado-masochistic soul. It’s the perfect story for anyone who hates Christmas. It’s torture porn for Grinches.
If Cormac McCarthy and Laird Barron teamed up to write a road novel, it would be this novel.
I haven’t read a horror noir this bleak since, well… ever. Actually, the closest in tone that I can recall was a graphic novel series by Garth Ennis called “A Walk Through Hell”, which honestly still gives me the chills.
It’s actually a decent comparison because, like Ennis’s graphic novel, “The Devil Takes You Home” is a surprisingly spiritual novel, and one that is asking some seriously tough questions about faith.
The novel’s protagonist, Mario, was once a happy husband and father. Then, his daughter was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and before he even had time to process the diagnosis, she is dead. Soon after, he leaves his wife (or she leaves him, it’s unclear but also irrelevant), and unable to deal with the staggering grief, he goes to work for a local cartel as an assassin. He rationalizes his actions by telling himself that the people he kills are pedophiles and rapists and drug dealers and murderers, but it brings an iota of solace. One day, a friend offers him a job being a mule, running illegal guns across the border. Mario knows there is more to the job, way more than he wants to even acknowledge, but he accepts. Soon, he finds himself on the road to perdition where the final destination may, literally, be Hell.
I could tell you more, but I don’t want to spoil the unending terror. Or the unexpected beauty. Be forewarned: this book is by turns a graphic depiction of the evil that men do and a total tearjerker. Mario is both an unlikable anti-hero and a poor sap that you can’t help but root for and shed tears for because, depending on how God or the Devil lay their cards down, this guy could be any one of us....more
Halloween is right around the corner. To celebrate and get in the spirit, I have been reading a plethora of spooky novels that have been on my list foHalloween is right around the corner. To celebrate and get in the spirit, I have been reading a plethora of spooky novels that have been on my list for years. One of those is Roger Zelazny’s “A Night in Lonesome October”. Published in 1993, the book was, sadly, the last book Zelazny published before he died two years later.
I had heard about this book (on Goodreads, of course), but it was just one of those “to read” books that sat on my virtual shelf for years. It is often rated up there with Ray Bradbury’s “The October Country” and on lists with books by Neil Gaiman and Clive Barker.
But wait: isn’t Zelazny best known for his science fiction? Why is he listed with authors better known for horror or dark fantasy?
Who cares? “A Night in Lonesome October” is a great book, regardless of how one classifies it. Straddling a fine line between cosmic horror, Victorian-era gothic romance, and dark comedy, Zelazny’s novel is a love letter to old monster movies and classic horror authors like Mary Shelley, Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stoker, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, H.P. Lovecraft, and Ray Bradbury (a contemporary of Zelazny’s but clearly one he respected enough to emulate).
It probably won’t be spoiling anything by saying that the novel is narrated by an intrepid hound-dog named Snuff. His job is to keep Things from escaping into our world. His master, Jack, is a sorcerer of some kind. They are involved in a particular Game, one that has been played for eons. Its players are playing for high stakes: on the one side are those that want to open the inter-dimensional gates to let in the Elder Gods, which would mean the end of humanity as we know it. On the other side, of course, are those that want to close the gates and let humanity live.
The players are: the Good Doctor and his hulking Experiment, a man apparently built from body parts of other men; Larry Talbot, who is cursed to turn into a werewolf every full moon; the Vicar, who appears to be grooming his own stepdaughter to be a sacrifice to the Elder Gods; the Count, a very old vampire from the Old Country; and a sorceress named Jill. Oh, and don’t forget the Great Detective, with his limping partner, who is trying to solve a series of murders that are linked to this so-called Game. There are, of course, the familiars. Snuff is Jack’s familiar. There is also a cat, a snake, and an owl, all of which also play an important part in the story.
If you don’t like talking dogs, cosmic horror, dark comedy, or books that make you second-guess character’s motives until the very last page, then this book isn’t for you. If, however, you love books like Bradbury’s “Something Wicked This Way Comes” and Gaiman’s “The Sandman” graphic novel series, then this will be a natural win....more
Brian Keene’s “City of the Dead” is as perfect a zombie novel as one can get. Published in 2005, the novel was a sequel to the 2003 novel “The Rising”Brian Keene’s “City of the Dead” is as perfect a zombie novel as one can get. Published in 2005, the novel was a sequel to the 2003 novel “The Rising”, an equally excellent novel. You don’t have to read “The Rising” to necessarily appreciate or understand “City of the Dead”. You can glean enough of the story from context and expository backstory throughout.
All you need to know: during a scientific experiment, scientists accidentally ripped a hole in the fabric of time-space, allowing ancient demons (called the Siqquisim) to escape from their eons-long prison put there by God, long before the Wars in Heaven and the Creation. Now these demonic spirits have possessed the bodies of the newly-dead. Globally, the zombie apocalypse has begun. But these “zombies” (more accurately, demonically-possessed corpses) can speak, think, drive, use guns, and do pretty much anything humans can do. Yeah, “holy shit” is right…
This novel probably has more in common with Sam Raimi’s “Evil Dead” movies than Robert Kirkman’s “The Walking Dead”. Keene adds a lot more ridiculous humor and a hella lot more over-the-top gore. Seriously, this book is not for the weak-stomached.
The plot bears a weirdly striking resemblance to the plot of George Romero’s 2005 film “The Land of the Dead”, in which survivors hole up in a huge skyscraper lorded over by a Donald Trump-esque dictator. Certain plot points are eerily similar, although it’s unclear who plagiarized who, as both the novel and the film came out the same year. Overall, it doesn’t matter, as both are, in my opinion, excellent.
If you’ve never read a Keene novel, shame on you! Just kidding. Seriously, though, “The Rising” and this book, “City of the Dead”, would be an excellent place to start....more
It starts with a question. The kind of question one would ask at a party, during a lull, to stir things up, to get people thinking and talking. A simpIt starts with a question. The kind of question one would ask at a party, during a lull, to stir things up, to get people thinking and talking. A simple question that, when one thinks about it, isn’t all that simple.
How do you think the world will end?
End-of-the-world stories have fascinated humans for centuries, as long as there have been storytellers telling stories. It plays upon those primal fears: of the unknown, of death, of eternal darkness.
James Tynion IV, who has gradually been making a name for himself in the comic book world (notably, his current ongoing series Something is Killing the Children and The Department of Truth), has written a terrifying tale of the apocalypse in the innocuously-titled The Nice House on the Lake, a title that could just as easily evoke a romantic comedy or a pleasant coming-of-age drama. Nope. This is balls-out horror.
A group of young millennials as disparate as they are talented in their given field have been invited to an unbelievably lavish lake house in upstate Wisconsin. Some of them know each other, but most are meeting each other for the first time. They are all friends with a man named Walter, who has set this soiree up.
They are not there long, however, before newsfeeds start blowing up about confusing and horrific world events. Wildfires in major cities. A pandemic of some type of flesh-melting virus. Radio silence from all over the world. Soon, the TV and radios are broadcasting nothing but an emergency warning to stay in your homes, do not travel.
Then, Walter drops a bomb that he knew this was going to happen, that he brought them here to save them from the apocalypse. And then he shows them his true self, which is so very not human.
What follows is a horrifying look at what survival in the end times might look like. There are, of course, plenty of plot twists, but to say more would be unfair.
Tynion’s graphic novel evokes the confusion and terror of such apocalyptic novels as Rumaan Alam’s “Leave the World Behind” and Paul Tremblay’s “The Cabin at the End of the World”. But it also has a subtle fun side that evokes films like “The Cabin in the Woods” and “This is the End”.
It will definitely be fun, and nerve-wracking, to see where Tynion takes this series, but I’m definitely hooked....more
Everyone loves a good apocalypse story. Whether it’s zombies, robot uprisings, Covid-19, or just boiling to death over several decades due to global cEveryone loves a good apocalypse story. Whether it’s zombies, robot uprisings, Covid-19, or just boiling to death over several decades due to global climate change, people seem to really be infatuated with (or, more to the point, terrified of) the end of the world.
Professor Adam Roberts, in his book “It’s The End Of The World: But What Are We Really Afraid Of?” examines the many ways the world could end and why we all seem so convinced that it will.
Believe it or not, the book is not only entertaining but actually quite humorous at times, as Roberts illustrates his many points with jokes, personal anecdotes, and pop-cultural references. Any professor that incorporates as many references to “Thor: Ragnarok”, the “Matrix” movies, and “Snowpiercer” in a lecture, is a professor worth his salt.
Starting with an eye-opening chapter on the Book of Revelations (so, apparently, St. John was secretly making digs at the Romans throughout) and other religious end-of-the-world predictions (many, if not all, weren’t so much world-ending as they were world-rebooting narratives masking our fears of death and hopes for an afterlife), Roberts looks at our fear of zombies (which is really a fear of mob mentality and death), robots and evil A.I. (a fear of technology and death), global pandemics (a fear of illness and death), and climate change (a very real fear of destroying the Earth and our inevitable death).
Basically, we’re all afraid of death. Which probably doesn’t sound so eye-opening now that I think about it. It’s kind of like, “duh.”
Still, Roberts’s book is, despite its subject matter, fun to read, if you are a fan of books and movies in which catastrophes are global and body counts are in the millions....more
There’s certainly nothing technically wrong with Seth M. Peck and Jeremy Haun’s graphic novel series The Realm. It boasts an interesting premise and gThere’s certainly nothing technically wrong with Seth M. Peck and Jeremy Haun’s graphic novel series The Realm. It boasts an interesting premise and great artwork. The story has plenty of action and monster mayhem. The mash-up of Tolkien-esque fantasy with Walking Dead post-apocalyptic horror should be a home run, and, I’m sure for many readers, it will be.
Unfortunately, this one was a strike-out for me.
Perhaps it’s because I’m kind of burned out on post-apocalyptic horror-dramas in which a small group of disparate (and desperate) people from all walks of life must survive an overwhelming obstacle (zombie hordes, alien invaders, inter-dimensional creatures, dinosaurs, global climate change, anti-vaxxers, Trump supporters, etc.) while trying to hold on to their humanity.
The Realm isn’t that different—-in tone, structure, narrative—-from Robert Kirkman’s The Walking Dead, Garth Ennis’s Crossed or, for that matter, Keith Giffen’s Scooby Apocalypse. The only real difference is that instead of zombies, homicidal maniacs, or humans mutated into monsters by a nanobot plague, Peck/Haun went with all of the nasty creatures from Middle Earth: orcs, trolls, goblins, giants, and dragons.
I just didn’t feel the emotional investment with the characters, most of whom I felt were pretty flat and one-dimensional. The least interesting character is the main character, Will Nolan, who is one of those “bad-ass-for-hire” end-of-the-world rogues, like Mad Max. Unfortunately for Will, Max had a helluva lot more charisma....more
“Nocterra” is a graphic novel series that suffers from the same Walking Dead syndrome that a lot of post-apocalyptic graphic novel series suffer from.“Nocterra” is a graphic novel series that suffers from the same Walking Dead syndrome that a lot of post-apocalyptic graphic novel series suffer from. The one saving grace is that this series is written by Scott Snyder, a comic book writer that I have come to like and respect.
The world has ended, and the survivors must fight to stay alive not just from an otherworldly enemy but the enemies within, all while trying to keep their humanity intact. (See what I mean by Walking Dead syndrome?) Instead of zombies, the world has been shrouded in an eternal night, but the kicker is that humans that are exposed to the darkness for too long become infected with something that transforms them into nightmarish monsters. Now, survivors live in pockets of the most brightly-lit cities, trying to avoid the darkness out past the city’s borders and praying that they will never have a power outage.
Val Riggs is a ferryman. She drives a truck on the darkest of roads, because someone still needs to haul goods, services, and people from city to city. Her latest cargo is two people: an old man and his granddaughter. Nothing too risky, or so she thinks. It turns out the old man is a brilliant scientist. Not only that, though: he’s the scientist who accidentally turned the lights out on the world.
Like much of his previous work (Swamp Thing, American Vampire, The Undiscovered Country), Snyder tells a riveting story with likable characters. One also has the sense that he knows where he’s going with this story, that there is an eventual endgame.
I’m definitely intrigued with this series enough to want to read more....more
“Every Cloak Rolled in Blood” is not my first James Lee Burke novel, but it may as well be. I feel like Burke has opened up an entirely new realm of p“Every Cloak Rolled in Blood” is not my first James Lee Burke novel, but it may as well be. I feel like Burke has opened up an entirely new realm of possibility within his writing, and it is incredible.
It almost feels like a new genre, or something that feels new created from several familiar genres. It’s a contemporary western but so much more. It’s a post-modern horror novel but so much more. It’s a heart-felt examination of grief and loss and finding solace in an unforgiving universe but, again, it’s so much more. It’s so much damned more than any category or label.
Aaron Broussard, the author of several best-selling novels, is still grieving the loss of his daughter, Fannie Mae, and he’s not doing a good job of it. He’s trying to do right in the community by helping two boys stay out of trouble by paying them for work on his property, but these boys have links to serious criminal elements that could come back to hurt Holland.
Holland has become smitten with a law enforcement officer named Ruby Spotted Horse. They have a strange electric attraction, but there is a huge age difference, and she also may have a gateway to Hell in her cellar. Literally.
When the ghost of Fannie Mae arrives one day with dire warnings of an impending apocalypse, Holland isn’t sure if he is going insane or if he may be one of the only sane people left in an insane world.
This is truly one of the best books I have read in a long, long time. It’s also one of Burke’s best novels in a career of many great novels. His prose has never been more beautiful, and his heart-ache has never been more real. Indeed, the novel feels autobiographical because it is: he and his wife suffered one of the worst things any parent can suffer in July 2020—-the loss of their 55-year-old daughter Pamala.
The sadness, anger, and confusion surrounding the aftermath—-coupled with the horribleness of Covid-19 and the stupidity of Trump’s final year in office—-all comes to a boil in this novel. It is Burke’s primal scream to the heavens. If only all primal screams could be so eloquent.
A note on the book medium: This is the first audiobook I have ever “read” (and, to clarify, by "audiobook" I mean book on CD, six of them to be exact, because I am old school and don't own anything that starts with an "i" or has to be downloaded). (And, yes, they still make CDs.) I listened to a bit every day for the 15-20 minutes to and from work. Narrated by the actor Will Patton (you’ve seen him in stuff, trust me), this book was wonderful to listen to as an audiobook, if only because of Patton’s soft Southern drawl that pairs perfectly with Burke’s writing. If Patton has narrated more of Burke’s novels, I may have to listen to all of them. ...more
If you’re ever dying of cancer and undergoing an experimental radiation therapy, the best thing that could ever happen to you is for a thermonuclear wIf you’re ever dying of cancer and undergoing an experimental radiation therapy, the best thing that could ever happen to you is for a thermonuclear war to occur. This is the uplifting takeaway from Geoff Johns and Gary Frank’s graphic novel “Geiger”.
In 2030, Tariq Geiger survived the global Unknown War, in which nuclear mushroom clouds dotted the world, killing billions and turning what was left of the Earth into a radioactive wasteland. He didn’t just survive, though. He became the Glowing Man.
This is a weird comic.
So, apparently Las Vegas survived the war, too, and a guy that dresses like Prince Valiant has become the King. He wants the Glowing Man dead because the Glowing Man burned his face. Also, some kids discover the missing “nuclear football” that everyone has been looking for forever since Air Force One crashed in the desert. All the King’s men are after these kids to get the football.
I’m having a hard time understanding how I came to write that last sentence.
Anyway, the artwork in this is really cool, and the story—-setting aside its utter weirdness—-is compelling enough to make me want to read more....more
It is by auspicious coincidence that I just recently read a book about how, collectively, our cognitive and ratiocinative proficiency has been steadilIt is by auspicious coincidence that I just recently read a book about how, collectively, our cognitive and ratiocinative proficiency has been steadily devolving for many years, especially since the advent of the Internet. In dumb-people speak: We don’t think so good anymore.
Johann Hari’s “Stolen Focus” is the perfect nonfiction companion piece to Blake Crouch’s latest science fiction novel “Upgrade”. Both books examine, in very different ways, how our dwindling attention skills and our declining ability for deep, reflective thinking are negatively effecting the world around us.
Our inability to listen to each other effectively has created a political atmosphere of, at times, violent divisiveness. Our inability for creative and critical thinking has prevented us from fomenting scientific, mathematical, and practical efforts to combat truly life-threatening problems such as global climate change or pandemic preparedness. Our inability to think like intellectual grown-ups is literally destroying us as a species.
So, how do we correct it? Hari’s solution is, in a nutshell: turn off your damn phone/tablet/computer for a large period of time, actually talk to real human beings, occasionally read a book, stop eating garbage you buy in gas station heat-trays, and go outside for a walk or a jog around the neighborhood. Okay, so there’s more to it than that, of course, but that’s the Cliffsnotes take-away version.
Crouch’s solution is a bit more drastic. Horrifying, really.
Set in the near future, “Upgrade” is about a man named Logan Ramsay, an agent for a governmental law enforcement agency tasked with monitoring, regulating, and preventing rogue genetic engineering. It helps to know that years ago, a group of scientists (all with the best of intentions) altered the genetic structure of certain insects and crops to create blight-resistant food source. Instead, they accidentally set off a global famine that killed millions of people.
One of those scientists was Logan’s mother, who, shortly after the incident, committed suicide. Many years later, Logan has been trying to right the wrongs of his mother. One night, on a raid, Logan is caught in the blast-radius of a gene-bomb, created to rewrite a person’s DNA. Logan survives, but he has no idea what is going to happen to him.
It turns out that the bomb has rearranged his DNA to the point that he is stronger, faster, and smarter. He now has an eidetic memory. He can read a 300-page book in two hours and remember it, word for word. He can recall conversations, verbatim, that he had when he was 15 years old. He can comprehend higher math and scientific concepts he never could before.
What does a person do with this gift? Well, as it turns out, Logan has two choices. One of those choices could result in the unintentional death of billions of people. The other choice is worse.
As fans have come to expect from Crouch, “Upgrade” is a suspenseful thriller that also happens to be thought-provoking and rather apropos to current events.
Personally, I thought “Upgrade” was good but not his best work. His last novel, “Recursion”, I felt, dealt with the ethics of technological advancement in a much subtler and nuanced way. At times, I felt that he was bludgeoning the reader over the head with the message in “Upgrade”. I don’t like being lectured to or screamed at, which is what I felt this book was doing.
Not that I didn’t like or agree with the message. I did. I just felt that, towards the end, especially, Crouch resorts to proselytizing rather than simply telling an exciting story....more
I will give Garth Ennis credit where credit is due. His latest graphic novel, A Walk Through Hell is something that some of his previous graphic novelI will give Garth Ennis credit where credit is due. His latest graphic novel, A Walk Through Hell is something that some of his previous graphic novels could never be accused of: subtle.
Let’s be honest: Ennis—-the brainchild behind such series as Crossed, Preacher, and The Boys—-is as subtle as a fistfuck with brass knuckles. I’ve always kind of liked this about him, but it can get tiring. And most of the time, Ennis’s idea of horror was less horrifying than it was just plain disgusting.
A Walk Through Hell is genuinely scary at times, and Ennis’s decision to tone down on the gore and amp up the dread succeeds wonderfully in this.
Not that there isn’t gore in this, but it’s definitely extremely subdued, especially when compared to, say, Crossed. Ennis isn’t trying to gross the reader out in this, like he was in Crossed. He’s actually making a pretty strong social commentary about our times. It is, actually, a running theme with Ennis, but one that often gets subsumed by the blood and guts in his previous novels: humanity is a good and fragile thing, and we can all lose it if we’re not careful.
That this is a blatant anti-Trump story is obvious. Ennis doesn’t shy away from or hide his politics. And yet, it never feels very political, mainly because the political aspects take a backseat to the story’s spiritual aspects. Yes, A Walk Through Hell tackles some heavy religious and theological issues, as only Ennis can tackle them.
Preacher was religious, too, although Ennis’s religious (more aptly anti-religious) commentary in that series always came across as more of a mean-spirited attack on Christianity. Not that Christianity, in my opinion, doesn’t deserve it.
In this series, however, Ennis comes across as more fair-minded, which is weird to say in a graphic novel series in which it is more than implied that God not only doesn’t exist but that God, as a concept, is merely a cruel joke played on humanity by the Devil, who created the idea of Heaven and God for mere shits and giggles.
Yet between the lines, Ennis, I think, is saying something a little more hopeful: If God doesn’t exist and all that we have waiting for us at the end of life is either fire and brimstone or bleak nothingness, then how can we explain the good and the beautiful in the world? If Evil is the way things should be, and Good is the aberration, the fact that humanity has successfully survived this long and has, indeed, done some good and created some beauty, at the very least seems to suggest an iota of a possibility in the existence of God.
Who knew Ennis could be so fucking spiritual?...more
The one thing I can say about Simon Spurrier’s graphic novel series Crossed + One Hundred that I couldn’t say about the two attempts at reading the orThe one thing I can say about Simon Spurrier’s graphic novel series Crossed + One Hundred that I couldn’t say about the two attempts at reading the original series, Crossed, that it is based on, is that the third volume—-which ends the series—-provides some semblance of hope for humanity. Not much, mind you, but far more than the ending of Garth Ennis’s initial run of the series.
Where Ennis’s series was simply degradation for degradation’s sake, Spurrier has attempted, at the very least, to make some point about the importance of empathy as a key to the survival of humanity.
In this volume, Future Taylor and her lover have secretly taken in and raised an infected child. While still feral, the child is slowly learning how to control its homicidal and psycho-sexual volatility. The two lovers are showing, by example, how to teach love and compassion to a creature that heretofore was thought to be completely incapable of both.
Meanwhile, the world outside is closing in. The hordes of the crossed, or infected, continue to attack, and the uninfected humans are of two camps: hide away forever or go completely full-bore genocidal on the infected. Future believes that there has to be a third option, but she’s not sure what it is.
Future discovers more about the crossed’s leader, Beauregard Salt, a 20th-century serial killer who somehow learned to not only live with the crossed but managed to teach them how to be somewhat human again. Granted, he was a sociopathic serial killer, so what he taught them wasn’t all that wonderful. Still, the fact that he was able to organize them and create a semblance of civilization among them is, to Future, hopeful.
Considering how disgusting I found the original series to be, I have thoroughly enjoyed Spurrier’s series. Much of it probably has to do with Alan Moore’s influence. Moore wrote the first volume and then left an outline that Spurrier used to complete the next two volumes. It has all the intelligence and compassion that makes Moore an incredible writer. Granted, there’s still an inordinate amount of blood and guts, so this series won’t be for everybody....more
Spoiler alert: I have no excuses. I'm just a dick. Sorry.
Chuck Wendig’s novel “The Book of Accidents” is an homage to the epic-length horror novels poSpoiler alert: I have no excuses. I'm just a dick. Sorry.
Chuck Wendig’s novel “The Book of Accidents” is an homage to the epic-length horror novels popularized by authors like Stephen King and Peter Straub in the 1980s. It is, for the most part, an excellent horror/sci-fi/fantasy novel. It is fast-paced, suspenseful, and fun. It is also, unfortunately, a variation on a theme whose market is being currently oversaturated.
This may not be a bad thing for some readers. Like the zombie subgenre or books about haunted houses, some folks can’t seem to get enough of a certain horror subgenre.
“The Book of Accidents” utilizes a specific horror/sci-fi trope that, in my opinion, has been fairly over-used—-everything from Blake Crouch’s novel “Dark Matter” to Jeff Lemire’s graphic novel series “Gideon Falls” to the recent Disney + TV show “Loki” has used this concept. Wendig also populates the novel with humorous Easter eggs and sci-fi nerd in-jokes, a wink and a nod to not-so-subtle influences such as Stephen King’s Dark Tower series to the TV shows “Fringe” and “Stranger Things”.
If you haven’t figured out what I’m talking about (being "spoiler-free", at this point, is kind of impossible), I’m referring to the theory of the Multiverse: alternate dimensions in which exists infinite variations of our world. It’s a fascinating scientific theory, and one that offers wondrously endless opportunities for science fiction, fantasy, and horror writers.
It is a concept that is showing up everywhere lately, and my fear is that when it starts showing up in places that it shouldn’t—-sitcoms or soap operas—-then it will lose its power to intrigue. It will simply become the new alien abduction cliche.
We haven’t reached that stage yet.
Despite my personal misgivings, Wendig’s novel is nonetheless entertaining. It starts as a potential haunted house story and then veers off into cosmic weirdness, in a good way.
I won’t bore you with a plot synopsis. I feel like I’ve dropped a shit-ton of spoilers already. If so, I’m sorry, but don’t let it stop you from reading this book. Seriously, it’s good. I’ll shut up now....more
It’s a very popular literary motif: grizzled old warrior is forced to be a protector of an innocent child, one that seems to be some portent. Kazuo KoIt’s a very popular literary motif: grizzled old warrior is forced to be a protector of an innocent child, one that seems to be some portent. Kazuo Koike’s beloved manga Lone Wolf and Cub is, perhaps, the best known works to utilize it, although it is a motif that shows up in many genres, from Cormac McCarthy’s novel “The Road” to the Disney+TV show “The Mandalorian”.
Jeff Lemire’s popular graphic novel series “Sweet Tooth” continues the motif in a depressing post-apocalyptic story about a hybrid child (part-human, part-animal) growing up in a world in which humanity is dying from a global pandemic. Hybrid children—-all born after the pandemic hit—-are being hunted down to be experimented on by scientists, as hybrids are believed to be a potential source for a cure.
Gus looks like a normal human child, except for the antlers and doe-like ears. He has been living with his father in a cabin in the woods, but months ago, his father died. A man named Jeppard saves Gus’s life from two hunters. Reluctantly, Jeppard takes the kid with him, and neither of their lives will, of course, ever be the same.
While I’m not a fan of the artwork (Lemire illustrated as well as wrote this), the story hooked me from the beginning. How could it not? Clearly, this kid has an important purpose in life. Just like all the other kids in those other stories. You need to know what happens to him, right? That’s why stories like this are so popular, and that’s why this motif can be found in so many of the beloved stories we grew up reading: “Great Expectations”, “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn”, “The Lord of the Rings”. Movies like “Star Wars”, “Logan”, “News of the World”.
Joseph Campbell called this an “archetype”. It is part of what he called “the hero’s journey”. It is something that we are all attuned to in our DNA, and it is why we love stories like “Sweet Tooth”....more