Category: Fiction Page 329 of 351

Superman: The Unauthorized Biography by Glen Weldon

A briefer (and less self-indulgent) version of this appears on Goodreads.

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Superman: The Unauthorized Biography
Superman: The Unauthorized Biography by Glen Weldon
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I was five years old when Superman: The Movie was released, and while I can’t remember much of the experience — by gum, when I left the theater with my parents, I believed a man could fly. I don’t know if that was my introduction to the character, it’s certainly the one that I remember. He was certainly around for the rest of my childhood — action figures, in SuperFriends, coloring books, the sequels, clothing, and, of course, in comics. He was never a favorite the way that Robin (later Nightwing), Cyborg, Changeling, or Spider-Man were, but he was a constant, an ideal. The cover of Crisis on Infinite Earths #7 is burned into my brain. I can’t tell you how many times I read John Byrne’s Man of Steel. Even after I stopped collecting comics, he was around — I watched most of Lois & Clark‘s episodes, and every one of Smallville‘s. My older sons and I spent who knows how many hours with the Justice League cartoons. I even own Superman Returns on DVD (as I recall, I purchased it the same day as I got the Donner Cut of Superman II, a far better use of my money).

In other words, this was a book written for people just like me.

Glen Weldon, NPR’s Comics Critic, has given us a great cultural history of Superman — from his prototypes and then genesis in the early work of Shuster and Siegel up to The New 52 and looking forward to the release of Snyder’s Man of Steel — and all points between. At once entertaining and pedantic, Weldon examines The Last Son of Krypton, the state of comics as a medium, and what both say about American culture through the decades.

He begins, as he ought, with Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster growing up, reading and (even as kids) writing comics, their struggles along the path to publication and eventual establishment in the field. Shortly after this, they came up with their most famous creation, which was essentially the inception of the dominant genre in comics. Weldon focuses on this period in painstaking detail — giving detailed descriptions of the early stories (panel by panel sometimes), their reception and sales.

Following this, he moves into decade by decade summaries — in these chapters Weldon looks at the predominant themes in the stories, power changes and development, new characters, and so on. Special attention is given to Lois Lane (both as an individual and in her relationship(s) to Clark/Superman), tweaks to his origin, and depiction of Krypton. I thought there were too many reboots, resets, etc. today — glad to see it’s not a novel development. Superman’s appearance in other media is also discussed — comic strips, radio, television, cartoons, movies, and even merchandising — how that affects Superman, Clark and the rest. As interesting as that was, I was most interested in seeing how cultural movements, politics and wars impacted the character.

Weldon spends a lot of time discussing Superman: The Movie, the ups and downs along the path to its production. I laughed out loud at the lengthy list of actors considered for the role — so, so few of them should’ve been in the running. Everyone so up-in-arms about the recent Affleck-as-Batman casting should read this list, it might help them see how good he might be in comparison. The list for Lois was shorter, but no less interesting. In light of how far-reaching movie cross-promotion goes today, it’s amazing to see how little DC Comics did to capitalize on this movie (or the sequels).

I think he went lighter on Superman in the comics from this point on, focusing on the Reeve films, the Superboy TV series, Lois & Clark, Smallville, and Singer’s movie. Well, except a really good and thorough look at The Death of Superman saga from the 90’s. Still, fascinating on the whole — sometimes the level of detail can get overwhelming and hard to wade through, but it was worth it. It’s not encyclopedic — however close it feels — there were stories and creators that I thought got short shrift from the last couple of decades. For example, I was disappointed in the lack of any discussion of It’s Superman by Tom De Haven — 2005’s best depiction of the character, although as it wasn’t sanctioned by DC, I understand it.

I would’ve liked to see a more consistent tone — he never steps over the line in to fanboy territory, but generally he’s positive about the characters and universe — but from time to time, he seems snide and like he’s looking down on the franchise and its fans. That said, his take on the character as a whole, and why he’s still a force in popular culture today expressed in the Introduction was great — almost perfect. I wish that Nolan and Snyder had more in common with that take than they seem to have. My major complaint was the utter lack of any images whatsoever — as thorough as some of his descriptions of the art may be, it’s no replacement for the Real (reprinted) McCoy. Licensing those images would be a nightmare (and likely an expensive one), so again, I understand it — I just would’ve liked to see it.

For fans, for those who like the character but wouldn’t go so far as to call themselves that, those interested in the medium — this is a recommended read on this slice of American history.

Dusted Off: Emperor Mollusk versus The Sinister Brain by A. Lee Martinez

Emperor Mollusk versus The Sinister BrainEmperor Mollusk versus The Sinister Brain by A. Lee Martinez
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

What a fun read (not hilarious, as the cover implies–and I believe, Martinez tweeted he didn’t like the word)!

This tale of our solar system’s biggest supervillian, conqueror (and would-be conqueror) of planets, destroyer of armies, and uber-mad scientist reads like a semi-serious Douglas Adams book. All of the wit, all the imagination, all the “where did he get that loopy (and great) idea from?”, none of the compulsion to go for the laugh every x number of paragraphs. It’s a great look at what makes a supervillian of the evil-scientist variety tick.

I’ve read about half of Martinez’ works, and he seems to go out of his way to make each significantly different than the last–but there are certain hallmarks–they’re clever, very enjoyable, and they display an essential humanity in characters you wouldn’t normally sympathize with/think of in this way. Such a treat.

Dusted Off: Chasing the Moon by A. Lee Martinez

Chasing the MoonChasing the Moon by A. Lee Martinez
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

It’s so hard to write anything about Martinez’ work, because it’s just so weird. And I mean that in a good way. Comic, but rarely laugh-out-loud; SF/Fantasy/Supernatural-ish, but approachable for those who prefer to stay away from that; books that feel like they’re the start (or middle of) a series, but are all stand-alones. One thing that connects them all is the humanity of the characters–particularly the protagonists, but not entirely reserved for them. Whether we’re dealing with supernatural creatures (vampires, werewolves, etc.), witches, aliens, robots, extra-dimensional creatures, monsters, cult leaders, or just Average Joes/Janes caught up in all of the madness–his characters have heart and humanity that shine through like nobody’s business.

In this particular tome, Diana finds the perfect apartment for her needs and budget, almost too good to be true, and jumps at it. Then she finds out that the catch to this deal is that she’s just signed on to be the one thing that stands between the world at large and a monster named Vom the Hungering, who will (one day) devour everything in sight. Hilarity ensues.

To say more would ruin this light (but not too light), engaging and very fun read. Do yourself a favor and give it a shot.

The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway

because what else are you going to post on the same day as a review of an installment electronic serialized novel about Fairy Tales invading the Real World?

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The Old Man and the Sea
The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

With the possible exception of The Torrents of Spring (I’ve pretty much repressed most of my memories of this one), there’s been at least one scene in every Hemingway novel I’ve read this year where someone recounts (or has) a man against nature or man against animal experience. Frequently, this is the best part of the book. So it’s not surprising that the time he threw out all the rest — war, love, dissipated living, etc. — and just focused on that element, man vs. the natural world, that he wins The Pulitzer. Here he’s really at his strongest.

I’ve read a lot of theories/takes on what Hemingway was really trying to say here, what/who the Old Man symbolized, who/what the giant marlin symbolized, who/what the Sea symbolized, and so on. Or that this is a minimalistic Moby Dick (if so, great, it’s needed!). And some of these might be right, a lot of them are full of more hokum than the typical literary criticism. I think it ‘s equally valid to go more surface-y on this one. Looking at how Hemingway lived his life, I tend to want to go for this being a straight-forward story of a regular guy, down on his luck that runs into the challenge of his life and comes out on top — momentarily, at least — and then has to fight for survival and the chance to do it again.

And as such, it succeeds. I really was gripped throughout (something I can’t say I’ve experienced with Papa before), after a slow (but necessary) introductory few pages, this story takes off and you just can’t help but feel for this Old Man and his last-ditch effort to eke out a living. I know it annoys some readers, but I enjoyed his talk of “the great DiMaggio,” his fisherman father, and the rest of MLB. I’m guessing these readers haven’t worked long hours alone — you have to do something to keep your wits about you, and you tend to get a little more eccentric than you otherwise would’ve. That part rang utterly true, and was amusing anyway.

A strong, deceptively-quick, compelling read. If nothing else, you get a feisty, elderly Cuban laying a beat-down on some sharks. That’s enough, right?

Indexing, Episode 8: Empty Nest by Seanan McGuire

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IndexingIndexing by Seanan McGuire
Series: Indexing, #1.8

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Episode 8: Empty Nest
Hey, diddle diddle! That was something! I spent most of this episode leaning forward on the edge of my seat (surely, I’m not the only one who subconsciously believes that helps them read tense/exciting parts of books faster, am I?). Sure, I was way ahead of Henry on picking up that Very Significant Clue, but the important thing is that she grabbed hold of it eventually and ran with it. Killer episode.

From the shell-shocked reaction of the team to the events in the last episode (unlike the rest, this one picks up right from the end of the previous installment), through the bureaucratic kerfuffle that kicks up from it to Henry’s clue pickup straight through to . . . well, the end — this was Indexing firing on all cylinders.

It struck me that at this point McGuire’s developed her world enough that she can say something like this:

Birdie Hubbard lived in exactly the sort of house that you would expect a woman named “Birdie Hubbard” to live in, especially if that woman existed in a world where fairy tales were real and had teeth.

and the reader doesn’t need the 3 sentences that follow to know what kind of place the characters are at (not that McGuire was guilty of over-kill in providing them). We also are at the point where we can understand Sloane’s reaction (“somewhere midway between horrified and impressed”) to the presence of garden gnomes in Hubbard’s lawn.

Such a fun read, don’t know how she’s going to top it next week, but I’m sure she will.

Blood Bond by Jeanne C. Stein

Blood Bond
Blood Bond by Jeanne C. Stein
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This is not at all what I expected from the last installment in the Anna Strong series. For that matter, it’s not what I expected from any Anna Strong book. Although, in retrospect, it makes sense that this would focus on the human side of Anna’s life — her love life, her family, her friends.

Yes, there’s a supernatural storyline — almost perfunctory, and even when it takes center stage in the novel, it does so under the shadow of the personal storylines. If this wasn’t the last in the series, it would seem that Stein was introducing a large, shadowy group that Anna and her allies would wrangle with for awhile. But, that doesn’t appear to be the case. There’s a new vampire character introduced that Anna becomes awfully chummy with far too quickly for someone in her position (vague, yeah, but trying to stay spoiler-free) Again, if there were more books to come — I’d fully expect this new pal to reveal himself to be just cozying up to her to find her Achilles’ Heel. Regardless, it was a quick and painless story that really only served to keep this book in the Urban Fantasy camp.

Stein’s focus was on the human/emotional stories, giving each major character some sort of resolution as the curtain comes down (although Culebra was given pretty short-shrift) — and in each scene apart from the Vampire story, it feels like Stein is trying to channel the spirit of the mid-80s long distance telephone company commercials and make you reach for the kleenex box every chapter. Big emotional moments and conversations, a lotta lovey-dovey faces, and tears being jerked.

Which sounds like a complaint, but it’s not — somehow Stein pulls it off. It’d be easy for this to be overly-sentimental and sappy — and she gets right up to that line, but she doesn’t cross it. Granted, it’s not the kind of book that I’d want to read all the time, but it worked this time. It let her leave Anna in a good place — or at least a place she could find a measure of peace and happiness for a time. But we all know Anna well-enough at this point to know that can’t last, she’ll find trouble/it will find her soon enough. We just won’t get to see it.

The Good Cop: A Mystery by Brad Parks

The Good Cop: A MysteryThe Good Cop: A Mystery by Brad Parks
Series: Carter Ross, #4

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

From the opening pages of Faces of the Gone, I could tell that Parks could tell a good story, and a compelling mystery while making you laugh. He’s only gotten better each novel since — which hardly seems fair.

Not that I’m complaining.

There were times when I thought the mystery this time was a tad predictable, but there were enough twists to keep my interest — and the way Parks writes, plus the subplots and characters made it more than enough. Parks makes me laugh out loud frequently — without turning these books into a sit-com like Janet Evanovich would. It’s real humor in the midst of suspense — like early Robert B. Parker or Robert Crais (remember when Elvis Cole was funny?)

My biggest gripe is that Parks only puts out one of these a year.

Dusted Off (and updated): Faces of the Gone by Brad Parks

Faces of the Gone (Carter Ross Mystery #1)Faces of the Gone by Brad Parks
Series: Carter Ross, #1

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This was a solid mystery novel from a first-time novelist who doesn’t write like a first timer (a career as a newspaper reporter helped a lot there, natch). Some of the characters bordered on stock, but Parks used them well enough that you just don’t care. Same with the mystery itself–on the whole, it was pretty obvious, but it was the telling of the story that sold it. Thoroughly entertaining — I even laughed out loud a couple of times.

Looking forward to the next one.

P. S. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve read this one (I have read it twice, however). I think given the world he created, and the way things have played out in the following books. And just my overall appreciation for Parks, I’d probably give this at least 4-4.5 stars now. But I’ll stick to my original grade, just to be honest. Just know that these three stars are very shiny.

The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith (wink, wink)

A briefer version of this appears on Goodreads.

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The Cuckoo's Calling
The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith
Series: Cormoran Strike, #1

My rating: 4.5 of 5 stars

I have to admit, if I didn’t know the name that’s on Robert Galbraith’s birth certificate, I don’t know that I’d have picked this book up. It’s possible– I pick up odd mysteries sometimes(the U.K. cover would’ve been more likely to get me to do it than the U.S. cover). But by the time I was halfway through with this one, I was ready to buy the next 2 or 3 in the series, regardless how this one turned out.

This is not the J. K. Rowling of Harry Potter — that’s obvious, and as it should be. Nor is this the J. K. Rowling of The Causal Vacancy — and that’s just merciful and wise. Let me quote (in it’s entirety) my Goodreads review of that one:

I don’t know, man…I just don’t know.

. It’s ten months later, and I still don’t know. But here, she taps into the same vein that brought her success — a different voice, a different world, different characters — but the same ability to tell a story. Not necessarily all that new, perhaps not written in the most “literary” way, but in a way that grabs the reader, draws them in and keeps them turning pages. At the end of the day, isn’t that what we want? (unless we’re professional critics or professors)

Our entry into this world comes via Robin Ellacott, newly moved to London with her fiancé who comes to the office of a P.I. as a temp secretary. She’s smart (and we eventually get an idea just how smart), spunky, and has long had an interest in detecting, it turns out (which must be nice — I’ve never had a temp job that was in a field I’d been interested for years and years). It’s through her eyes that we get confirmation that yes, the protagonist is a decent guy, despite problems he might be having — and a good detective. While we are introduced to this world through Robin’s eyes, we eventually get to the point where we envy her as she gets to take part in the investigative work.

Her temporary boss, on the other hand isn’t someone we envy — nor is he noticeably spunky, there’s reason to doubt his intelligence from time to time — although he’s clearly an experienced and well-equipped detective. Injured in Afghanistan, he now (almost) ekes out a living doing private investigations. He has an interesting — and novel — past, one that opens doors for him (although he hates having to cash in on it). With the unlikely (but inherently cool) name of Cormoran Strike, he’s a member of a long-line of down-on-their luck, idealistic, hard-boiled, hard-drinking, lone-wolf detectives that goes back to Chandler (if not further). The friendship that Strike develops with Robin gives him the motivation–at least temporarily — to be a better version of himself than he’s apt to be, if only to pay her back for the extraordinary amount of help she’s been to him. It seems inevitable from almost the beginning that thus will develop into at least an unrequited love on his part, as long as Galbraith moves the relationship along in future books as deftly as she does here, I don’t see it becoming the cliche it so really could.

Given the subject of Strike’s investigation — a well-known model from a prominent family, who socializes almost exclusively with A-listers — Galbraith is given plenty of opportunity to comment on celebrity culture –a subject Galbraith has had a certain degree of experience with, and obviously an informed opinion or two about. Hard-boiled detectives tend to comment on society as they go about their detecting, and Cuckoo’s Calling does its fair share, particularly regarding the paparazzi and tabloid journalism, as well as the ridiculous aspects of the lives of celebrities.

The case that Strike is hired to investigate has plenty of twists and turns, more than enough to keep those who don’t care for the rest of the book entertained. I was pretty sure who the Big Bad was early on, and I was right. But I wasn’t in the same time zone as the motive. I was about 50/50 on some of the more minor mysteries, which is nice — for a first time mystery author, I’d have expected to be right about 70% of the time or so. But when I was wrong — I was very wrong. I should add that Galbraith didn’t cheat — everything we needed to know in order to identify the villains of the piece is right out there for us to see, just wish I’d done a better job of it.

A solid set-up for a series, decently interesting characters, and a mystery solid enough to prove that this newbie author (at least in this genre) has some chops. A distinct pleasure. I’ll be waiting for more Cormoran Strike — no matter what author’s name is attached.

Lexicon by Max Barry

Lexicon
Lexicon by Max Barry
My rating: 4.5 of 5 stars

My guess is that no one reading a book review needs to be convinced of the power of words, you probably know the power of words in your own life, not to mention the pen is mightier yada yada. Beyond the power of the written word, comes the power of the spoken word — a good speaker can bring along a group or an individual to a conclusion they’d never agree to were they reading the material — there’s plenty of anecdotal as well as experimental evidence to support the power of the spoken word.

Max Barry takes things a step further, what if the power of the spoken word was actual Power — like magic. With enough of a veneer of science/pseudo-science to make Walter Bishop happy and make the whole thing seem grounded. It’s one of the best “magic” systems I’ve come across lately (and there’s been a lot of them)

After a brief — and pretty unconventional — enhanced interrogation scene that made me wonder what I was getting myself into, I came across one of those sentences (or four, in this case) that are enough to convince me that I’m in for the rest of the book. In this case, it was on page 8:

He [our protagonist, drugged and in the midst of being kidnapped] shook his head to clear it, but the world grew dark and angry and would not stay upright. The world did not like to be shaken. He understood that now. He wouldn’t shake it again.

Can’t tell you exactly why — something about the voice would be my guess, but this is one of those things that I don’t want to dissect/scrutinize — but there’s a je ne sais quoi about that quotation that sold me on the novel. And it didn’t let go.

Within the group of practitioners of this magic-y system, there’s some sort of split, with the factions vying over control of an artifact that wields immense power — something along the lines of the prize in Raiders of the Lost Ark, and the bodies are piling up.

Told in a series of flashbacks accompanying the present day stuggles, we get the stories of Wil — the only survivor of an event that killed the citizens of an entire Australian town — and Emily — a homeless American teen — as they first encounter, and learn to understand the power of words. These are very human stories — love and loss, betrayal, revenge, opportunities seized and missed. In the midst of the battles, subterfuge and death, it’s these things that stand out in the book.

A real pleasure to read from the opening pages through gripping conclusion, and on to the the entertaining acknowledgments (particularly that last paragraph of the acknowledgments). Max Barry’s an author I’m going to have to come back to.

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