X-Men: Mutant Massacre

This is a classic story from the X-Men's long and convoluted history that I had never read before, so I wanted to see if it was all that it's been hyped up to be.

Synopsis

A team of assassins known as the Marauders track a group of mutants called the Morlocks down to their underground Manhattan lair, the "Alley," a complex series of tunnels. The Marauders then proceed to exterminate the virtually helpless Morlocks, until members of the X-Men, led by Storm, and X-Factor/X-Terminators, led by Cyclops come to their rescue. Several prominent Morlocks are saved, but many more are killed, and members of both the X-Men and X-Factor are critically wounded.


Mutant Massacre was a huge X-men crossover in the Fall of 1986. Parts of the story could be found in Uncanny X-Men, X-Factor, New Mutants, and even Thor, Daredevil, and Power Pack. The overall story was mainly conceived by legendary X-writer Chris Claremont—also notable for the stories "Days of Future Past" and the "Dark Phoenix Saga"—but several writers and pencilers had a hand in the crossover. Aside from the near-decimation of the Morlocks, Mutant Massacre is also an important story in X-Men history because of several events that spun out from its pages. Angel suffers severe damage to his wings, which later have to be amputated to save his life. This leads directly to events that turn him into Archangel, one of the Four Horseman of Apocalypse. Kitty Pryde's mutant ability to become intangible is disrupted, leaving her unable to revert back to her solid form. Colossus sustains incredible damage, leaving him quadriplegic for a time. Wolverine discovers that Jean Grey, thought to be dead, is actually alive and well. All of this is very important, and has a lasting influence on the X-Men universe for years to come, but is the story any good?

The 1980's were an interesting time for comic books, and books written back then definitely don't read the same way as books written now. Claremont and the other Mutant Massacre writers tell a great story, with tons of conflict and drama, but at times it seems a little corny. Almost half the page is dedicated to speech, narration, or thought bubbles. The events of each individual issue are much more exciting than the issues themselves. The Marauders track down the Morlocks, then begin hunting them, killing them off one by one, until finally the X-Men intervene. That's exciting! I can absolutely see Jim Shooter, the Editor-in-Chief of Marvel at the time, getting really amped up and excited for this huge crossover. But then you get horrible narration like this the entire time:

A mile beneath Manhattan...

...are the tunnels where the Morlocks lived...

...until the Marauders killed them.

Wolverine moves silently through the carnage, alert for the slightest sound, the smallest movement, the faintest scent of life.

Violence is in his nature. Murder is not. He means to find those responsible and pay them back--in full measure.

Like, come on now. I know this was written a long time ago, but haven't you ever heard of "show, don't tell"? This is a COMIC BOOK! If there was ever a medium where you could beautifully "show" this is it! Yeah, this was written in 1986, but when you think about it, it was only written in 1986. Think of all the classical works of literature that are hundreds of years old that still read just as well today. You could argue that, because the medium has only been around for about 75 years, the quality mark has yet to stabilize. Back then, maybe tons of speech and narration was the way to go. But is the problem comics from that time period in general? or this book in particular? Either way, I don't highly recommend reading this. The story is important. The events that take place and their consequences are important. If you really need to know first hand everything that has happened in the X-Men universe for any reason, this book is definitely important. It's just not all that fun to read.

Rating

X-Men: Mutant Massacre
by Chris Claremont with Louise Simonson, Walter Simonson, John Romita Jr., and Sal Buscema

Story—6.67
Chris Claremont is somewhat known for his poor execution of extremely high-concept ideas. This is a major event in X-Men history, and sounds like it would be a great read. In theory. Give me a solid, well-written story over this any day.

Style—5.83
It's not unreadable, and you definitely have to allow for the fact that this was written during a time when comic books generally tended to have a lot more speech, narration, and thought bubbles. That being said, it doesn't make it any easier to read.

General—6
If you just kinda skim through most of the dialogue and narration, it's actually a very dramatic story. There's a lot going on, tons of suspense and conflict, and many characters are forced to make difficult decisions. It's got the framework to be something incredibly intriguing.

Overall—6.17



Keep reading, Genoshans!

TIMEQUAKE: A Guest Post

*With our head Genoshan off wandering the streets of San Diego (probably dressed like Rocket Raccoon), he's handed the reins of the kingdom over to me for the week, so here goes...something, anyway.

You're sick, now you're better, there's work to be done — Kilgore Trout

The final novel published by acclaimed Absurdist/Sci-Fi author Kurt Vonnegut (followed only by a collection of essays and short stories), Timequake is inherently a failure. Don't get the wrong idea here; Timequake was actually the first Vonnegut I ever read (when I was about 12 — boy, did that go over my head! Why did you buy this for me as an Easter present, Dad?), and I enjoyed it even more the second time around (when I could actually comprehend and appreciate it), but the book Timequake is constructed entirely around Vonnegut's inability to complete the novel Timequake to a satisfactory degree.

Confused? Don't worry about it. Vonnegut's metafictional conceits have metafictional conceits, which in turn have more metafictional conceits, but not in that hurts-your-head kind of way; no, Vonnegut is clearly having fun with this, in that quirky, self-conscious way he does so well. And fortunately, he lays it all out on the line for the reader right up front, to avoid any unnecessary confusion: Timequake was (originally) a novel in which the universe suffers from a crisis in self-confidence—should it go on expanding? What's the point?—and forces everyone within it to re-live the last 10 years of their lives. Everyone would retain their memories of the first 10 year go-round, but would still be forced to go through them again on autopilot, reliving every moment precisely as it happened the first time, unable to change a thing.

Eventually, Vonnegut mostly gave up on this idea, and the Timequake that was ultimately published transformed into a different creature. The book consists of part salvaged sections from the original novel—presented as such, and usually concerning Vonnegut's fictional literary alter ego, Kilgore Trout—and part personal memoir. Taking the notion of a Timequake and applying it to his own personal experiences, as well as to the personal experiences of those close to him, Vonnegut explores ideas of fatalism, determinism, and human nature in the modern world through this fascinating (and often quite comic) lens. These anecdotes range from tragic (a woman who accidentally paralyzes her husband, and must relive it through the quake) to triumphant (a man wrongly imprisoned but eventually released and exonerated who must relive his entire redemption arc to become a hero again) and everything in between, narrated with that delightfully sardonic wit for which Vonnegut has become so renowned.

That being said, Timequake tends to eschew most of the traditional conventions regarding plot and linear cohesion, and this might turn some people off from it. Vonnegut does eventually return to many of his (and Trout's) briefly touched upon anecdotes and stories, often giving us small, almost stream-of-consciousness bursts of information before moving on to something only tangentially related and eventually working his way back several chapters later, but one gets the feeling that it never really goes anywhere. Each anecdote or story has a beginning, middle, and end, and the thematic connections are typically clear, but the story as a whole lacks an arc. As a reader, you are drawn in not by the ongoing meta-adventures of Kilgore Trout, but by the sheer enjoyment of each story as conveyed by Vonnegut (or Trout); there is very little beyond that, however, to compel you to turn the page and continue.

But this isn't necessarily a bad thing. The end of the novel is surprisingly uplifting, and Vonnegut does flirt a bit with the massive destructive forces of Ennui and Apathy (the true antagonists of the story) that overcome the human race once they are free from the grasps of the Timequake (this would have been the action-packed, heroic climax of the original Timequake, in which Kilgore Trout must wake the people up and urge them to continue living, etc., etc.), which all kind of resembles a plot. Surprisingly enough, the apparent lack of cohesion almost makes it easier to read, as most of the anecdotes are both brief and enjoyable. As a reader, you never quite know where it's going to take you next, and a large part of the enjoyment is seeing where all of these seemingly non-sequitur characters and concepts lead and intersect. For those of you entirely unfamiliar with the works of Kurt Vonnegut, a large part of his appeal lies in his ability to speak simply about the most profound things, and this book is certainly no exception. There are times when his language and sentence structure feel almost childlike, but the concepts and ideas contained within are enough to blow your mind all the way to Tralfamadore, to Dresden, or to somewhere else entirely.

I give Timequake 3 and a half out of 5 Vonnegut self portraits:



So it goes.

Bone (Jeff Smith)

Wow, where do I even start with this one?

Synopsis

I guess the best way to go with this is to just let you know: Bone is incredible. It may not be the best comic series of all time, it probably isn't even my favorite, but I have to admit that Jeff Smith must have done something to make God very happy, because the dude has a ton of talent. Bone is the story of three cousins—Fone Bone, Phoney Bone, and Smiley Bone— who get run out of Boneville by a lynch mob after Phoney manages to anger the entire town. Lost and wandering around the desert, the three are separated when they get caught in a swarm of locusts. Desperately searching for food, water, and each other, all of the Bones manage to find themselves in an enchanting valley filled with talking animals, mysterious dragons, and cow races. They quickly get back together, but only just before they find themselves involved in an ancient war between the Lord of Locusts and the dragons and humans determined to protect their world from being completely destroyed.


But all that is just plot. Bone is a terrific, terrific story, especially when you read Bone: The Complete Cartoon Epic in One Volume (1,332 pages for only $39.95!!!). But the true beauty of this comic is in the art and the characters. Jeff Smith really shows off his range in this book. He'll sometimes transition from a cartoony, almost comic-stripesque scene into a sprawling two-page splash that stops the reader right in their tracks. And he does it smoothly. This seamlessness carries over into characters, too. The three Bone cousins complement each other so well that it's often difficult to figure out which one is your favorite. Fone Bone is generous and brave; Phoney Bone is greedy but cunning; Smiley Bone is a huge goofball who just wants everyone to have a good time. Throw in a pair of blundering rat creatures, a cow-racing grandma and her beautiful granddaughter, and a grumpy innkeeper who used to be a great warrior, and you've got a mix that produces some of the best written scenes I've ever come across. Not only that, but it's extremely accessible. Smith never writes down to the reader. There are plenty of goofy moments that I would've loved when I was a kid (and, admittedly, still do), but it's so long and epic that I can't help but be impressed by its complexity. There were a few times past the 1,000-page mark that I thought it dragged on a little longer than it needed to, but considering that it was originally 55 separate comic book issues, I'm honestly surprised I never thought so sooner. Seriously, folks, at $39.95 you really can't go wrong. It's almost definitely the best bargain in comics, and it's worth the time and money. I would highly recommend checking this one out.

Rating

Bone: The Complete Cartoon Epic in One Volume
by Jeff Smith


Story—8
This isn't a groundbreaking literary masterpiece, but when something is written so well, so consistently, over the course of such a long story, it's hard not to admire it.

Style—7.83
It's clear he was influenced by a unique group of writers ranging from Charles Schulz to J.R.R. Tolkien (clear because that's what his Wikipedia page says). He uses these influences well, combining a masterful epic scope with a decent amount of absurdity.

General—9
This book is fun, accessible, and compelling. I'm not sure what else you need.

Overall—8.28



Keep reading, Genoshans!

The Dead Guy Interviews (Michael A. Stusser)

Sorry for the recent drop off. I was away, followed by a series of mishaps that led to not having reviews ready. Not to worry, though! I've got at least the next three weeks' worth of reviews all prepped and ready to go. There's some decent stuff coming up, it's gonna be fun.

Synopsis

So, the inside cover says this guy spends most of his time inventing board games and writing for parenting magazines. I guess one day he came up with an idea he just had to write, and churned out this little gem. Alright, I'm gonna cut to the chase on this one and say right now that I wasn't impressed. The concept was really intriguing: interview famous dead people. Okay, I can go with that, show me what you can do. Well, what Stusser can do is be racist and repetitive. The end. He interviews 45 deceased personalities, including Lincoln, Beethoven, Houdini and Caesar, but the book gets old after the first ten. Instead of giving each subject their own distinct personality, he gives them all their own distinct accent, but somehow they still wind up sounding the same: flat. Not only that, but each celebrity was presented as a ridiculous characterization of themselves: Cleopatra is a sex fiend trying to get Stusser into bed; Mozart is a petulent child too rambunctious to even sit still; Poe is so drugged out that he asks if he can drink turpentine in the middle of his interview. And most of the interviews are five pages, which is probably two pages too long.

There were definitely some humorous moments, don't get me wrong. Stusser often makes fun of himself by having his subjects get annoyed with him, some even threatening him with death repeatedly (and then another threatens him with death, repeatedly, and then another, repeatedly, repeatedly, again, and again, repeatedly). There were also plenty of useful little factoids about each person strewn throughout the interviews, which I assume was one of the main purposes of the book, so maybe it would be helpful for kids? At this point I really don't know. I'm thinking this might've been better as some kind of website, though, where people can come in and read up on people in a new and fairly interesting way, but without having to read all the rest. Right now the book is too long, very repetitive, and living in this bizarre place between informative and absurd.

Rating

The Dead Guy Interviews: Conversations with 45 of the Most Accomplished, Notorious, and Deceased Personalities in History
by Michael A. Stusser.

Story—6.5
It really was a great idea. I'll at least give him credit for that.

Style—6
Reading the same thing over and over gets boring after a while, which is unfortunate because some of the better interviews aren't until later on in the book.

General—6.17
It's informative, and had a decent premise, but it isn't executed very well. The only reason it's rated this high is because it's a fairly quick and simple read, so it's not necessarily painful to get through. Maybe if it had a different framing device or something? Who knows.

Overall—6.22



Sorry this one was a dud. Now at least you know not to pick it up when you see it on the "Buy 1, Get 1 Free" table at B&N or Borders. Until next week, keep reading, Genoshans!

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith)

I have never been this excited to write a book review in my life. Actually, strike that. I have never been this excited to write ANYTHING in my life. I don't even know what else to say, I have to just get right into it.

Synopsis

The synopsis is as straightforward as it gets. The book is Pride and Prejudice... and Zombies. It follows the story of the Bennet family of Hertfordshire, England, and their five unmarried daughters, Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty and Lydia, and what happens to them when a rich, eligible bachelor moves into a nearby estate. And there are zombies. Jane falls in love with Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy falls in love with Elizabeth, Lydia falls in love with everybody. And there are zombies. For once, the blurb on the back cover of the book got it absolutely right:

Complete with romance, heartbreak, swordfights, cannibalism, and thousands of rotting corpses, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies transforms a masterpiece of world literature into something you'd actually want to read.

It's Pride and Prejudice! And Zombies! Okay, I admit, I was a little skeptical going into this reading. There's no way this book can be as good as it sounds, right? WRONG! Seth Grahame-Smith is apparently some kind of genius. He left 90% of the original Jane Austen story, language and drama intact, and just added a plague of undeath that has been the bane of all England for a few decades. He even flavors it up by making the Bennet sisters trained in the "deadly arts," having spent years studying hand-to-hand combat under a Master Liu in China (the rich people send their kids to Kyoto, of course). You would think the random Asian influences and the hordes of walking dead interrupting trips to town and glamorous balls would throw the story out of whack, but somehow it really doesn't at all. It's scary how seamless the entire notion of a zombie-ridden countryside is actually worked into the narrative. Grahame-Smith maintains the voice and mannerisms of the pre-Victorian era even when discussing the proper way to decapitate "unmentionables." There are honestly times when I wasn't altogether sure whether a certain line was written in as a smooth transition into a zombie moment, or if it had actually been a preexisting line that Grahame-Smith utilized as a perfect jumping off point.

One of the very best pats of the book comes at the very end, however, after the actual story is finished. Grahame-Smith includes a "Reader's Discussion Guide," similar to one you might find in a summer reading book, except hilarious. Examples include:

1. Many critics have addressed the dual nature of Elizabeth's personality. On one hand, she can be a savage, remorseless killer, as we see in her vanquishing of Lady Catherine's ninjas. On the other hand, she can be tender and merciful, as in her relationships with Jane, Charlotte, and the young bucks that roam her family's estate. In your opinion, which of these "halves" best represents the real Elizabeth at the beginning—and end of the novel?

3. The strange plague has been the scourge of Englad for "five-and-fifty years." Why do the English stay and fight, rather than retreat to the safety of eastern Europe or Africa?

7. Does Mrs. Bennet have a single redeeming quality?

10. Some scholars believe that the zombies were a last-minute addition to the novel, requested by the publisher in a shameless attempt to boost sale. Others argue that the hordes of living dead are integral to Jane Austen's plot and social commentary. What do you think? Can you imagine what this novel might be like without the violent zombie mayhem?

Genius. The rest of the book is just as hilarious, if not more so. I don't think I have ever recommended a book to anyone as strongly as I recommend Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. It's absolutely fantastic, everyone needs to read this book.

Rating

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith

Story—9
I can't think of any other time I've had this much fun with a novel. I hope there are more like this to come.

Style—9.17
It's hilarious, and the zombie parts and original parts are seamless interwoven. I can't think of any book that more successfully lived up to its premise.

General—9.5
READ THIS BOOK! It's absolutely incredible. There's something for everyone.

Overall—9.22

It's going to be very difficult for anything to get a higher Daily Genoshan rating than 9.22. This may not be my absolute favorite book of all time, but I would definitely argue that it's the most well executed (or beheaded, or devoured, or slowly zombified via a bite to the leg). Go read this book, Genoshans.

Mouse Guard: Fall 1152 (David Petersen)

I'm reviewing a comic this week, but only because I'm reading the GREATEST book right now and won't be done with it for a few more days. That and I'm starting to enjoy reviewing comic books, so deal with it.

Synopsis

Remember that movie from when you were little, The Secret of NIMH? It came from a book, actually, Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH. Weren't those mice great? And An American Tail, and its sequel,—in my opinion one of the greatest sequels of all time—An American Tail: Fievel Goes West? Remember those? Didn't they make you respect rodents so much more, thinking that it was possible that they led these interesting lives with their own little cultures and battles? And Ralph from The Mouse and the Motorcycle. Weren't they so cool? Yeah, the mice of Mouse Guard would kick the crap out of all of them.

Life in 1152 was hard enough for people, just think about all the stuff mice would've had to deal with back then. There were no massive concrete cities for them to hide in, these mice were out in the wild with nowhere to go. Cats, snakes, weasels, the Mouse Guard was formed to protect the lives of ordinary mouse citizens from these terrors, as well as keep the peace among the different mouse communities themselves. In the first chapter three guardsmice gut a rattlesnake and discover a traitorous plot. In the second two other guardsmice fight off an attacking group of crabs from their shoreline outpost. These mice don't screw around. The main story revolves around those first three mice, Lieam, Kenzie and Saxon, trying to figure out who has turned their back on the Mouse Guard and how they're going to be able to stop them in time. It's a simple concept, but it's written and drawn incredibly well. Petersen gives us just enough backstory to know that this is an entire universe waiting to be explored, without bogging it down with superfluous detail. It isn't the most groundbreaking idea that's ever existed by any means, but it's a solid piece of writing, with beautifully detailed art to match. I'm definitely looking forward to picking up the sequel, Mouse Guard: Winter 1152, when it comes out this summer.

Rating

Mouse Guard: Fall 1152
by David Petersen

Story—7.5
Again, it isn't the most original idea ever, but Petersen executes well, and that's what really counts with this one.

Style—7
It's a medieval action comic about mice, and it's drawn well. That's basically all you need to know, you'll either like it or you won't.

General—8
The whole thing comes together nicely. It's not overly complex, but it's also not just a book for little kids. I say check it out.

Overall—7.5



Make sure you tune in next week, Genoshans, because I can tell you that the book I'll be reviewing kicks ass. You're gonna want to know about this one.

The Martian Tales Trilogy (Edgar Rice Burroughs)

Ok, for real this time. Let's get back to some good old fashioned criticism.

Synopsis

In 1912, Edgar Rice Burroughs was basically a loser. He was over 40 years old and had done next to nothing with his life. Without really anything to lose, he decided to become a writer. Somehow that idea actually worked. The three books collected in The Martian Tales Trilogy are A Princess of Mars, The Gods of Mars and The Warlord of Mars, which came out in 1912, 1913 and 1914, respectively. 1912 was also the year Burroughs published the first Tarzan novel, Tarzan of the Apes, so this guy just came out of nowhere and basically became a huge international hit.

These first three books in what would eventually be an 11-book series, all center around the adventures of one character, John Carter. Even though it's technically three novels, the first two both end in cliffhangers that pick up directly in the next book, so it makes sense to read all three as one big book. In that way—and only that way—it might be considered a precursor to The Lord of the Rings trilogy (although to be fair, LOTR is actually broken up into six books, but that's a conversation for another time). Anyway, John Carter is actually a Virginian, and fought in the Civil War, but for some reason seems to have special powers that never get explained. The first chapter of the first book starts out:

I am a very old man; how old I do not know. Possible I am a hundred, possibly more; but I cannot tell because I have never aged as other men, nor do I remember any childhood. So far as I can recollect I have always been a man, a man of about thirty.

So it's weird right off the bat. Fairly early on in that first book, John Carter apparently dies, but somehow leaves his body and travels to Mars (although this is never truly explained either, at least not in these three installments). Upon reaching Mars, he discovers that his Earthling physiology gives him much greater proportionate strength than he did at home, so he is able to jump extremely far and hit people really hard. He is found by a group of monstrous Green Martians—not to be confused with the more human-looking Red Martians, Black Martians, or White Martians that are introduced later—and meets Tars Tarkas, who ultimately becomes his best friend on Mars, and Dejah Thoris, a Red Martian princess of the Martian city-state Helium, whom he immediately falls in love with. From then on it's pretty much 700 pages of swashbuckling sword fights, strange Martian technology, narrow escapes and damsels in distress. No, seriously. That's all it is. And you know what? It's actually pretty awesome.

Burroughs was one of the great early writers of pulp and science fiction novels, so there isn't a whole lot of great literary discourse going on in these books, but they are so entertaining. Every chapter ends in the midst of some kind of conflict, it's riveting. And each time you think things are going to calm down for a second, or that John and Dejah Thoris are finally going to be together, something screws it up. A lot of the writing can get repetitive, and sometimes I was sitting there going "Really? Really John Carter? You haven't slept or eaten in three days, have been stabbed eighteen times, just went on for three pages about how there is no possible physical way to get out of this situation, and are now successfully fighting off three hundred trained swordsman (swordsmartians?), who at the beginning of the book were noted as being the best in existence? Really?" So maybe it's a tad unrealistic at time. Oh yeah, and it's incredibly sexist. Every woman John Carter meets immediately falls in love with him, subsequently gets kidnapped and must be rescued (they're all naked, by the way, Martians don't wear clothes for some reason). But I think I'm ok with all of that. Sometimes it's fun not to have to think too much, and to enjoy the three hundred thousand Martians bearing down on you with only six minutes left to save your beloved princess from being locked away in a revolving tower with no food for a full year while the palace you're in burns down around you. It's so extreme, all the time, it never lets up. And I mean, come on, it takes place on Mars in the early 1900s, and the guy is writing about technology and scientific principles that hadn't even been conceived of yet. He goes into depth about an oxygenation system for the entire planet, cheap and reliable air transport, all kinds of stuff. And then later in the year goes the complete opposite direction and writes Tarzan. It's not something I would put up for the Nobel Prize or anything, but I'm gonna give the guy some credit.

Rating

The Martian Tales Trilogy
by Edgar Rice Burroughs

Story—7.5
It may not seem as original now, but for the time it was written this was groundbreaking stuff. Ray Bradbury and Arthur C. Clarke both cite Burroughs as heavy influences in their work.

Style—8.17
If you don't like cheesy pulp/sci-fi stories, these may not be for you. For what it is, though, it's some of the best that's ever been written.

General—8
These books are a lot of fun, and sometimes that's all that really matters. They keep you on the edge of your seat as John Carter pulls solutions out of nowhere and saves the woman he loves time and time again.

Overall—7.89



Keep reading, Genoshans!