Book Review - The Monstrumologist, by Rick Yancey

Man-eating monsters! Grave robbers! Senseless violence! Worm infestations! Victorian manners! This Printz honor book is purported to have it all, and indeed it does. In fact, I’d argue that it has almost a little too much. Despite the occasional slouching towards gratuitousness, though, this is an extraordinarily fun book if you like monsters and don’t mind some gore.

The book is presented as a three-volume diary of one Will Henry, who served as the young apprentice to a New England “Monstrumologist,” Dr. Pellinore Warthrop, in the late 19th century. The folios recount a particular instance when a new “project” landed on Warthrop’s doorstep: a marauding pack of anthropophagi, a huge, cunning, and merciless variety of predator that normally resides in Africa. Ever the dutiful assistant, Will Henry follows Dr. Warthrop (along with a mysterious English colleague of the doctor’s) from their macabre laboratory to a lonely cemetery, a stinking asylum, and even into the bowels of the earth hunting the monsters, even as innocent bystanders are ruthlessly torn apart and eaten during the search. The mystery of the anthropophagi, however, may lead a lot closer than the distant savannas of Benin.

The ambiance of the story is perfect, and there is a wonderful interplay between the affected gentlemanliness of Warthrop, the distinctly Dickensian Will Henry, and the truly nightmarish scenarios they inhabit. The resulting mood of the book is slow-burning and genuinely tense, without ever (in my opinion) getting boring. The prose does get a little flowery when Will Henry ruminates on the nature of his mentor, or tries to make sense of the horrific things he has to experience. Then again, that makes sense, given the idea that this story is supposedly a journal transcription. Besides, I’m a vocabulary nerd, and Yancey’s writing is evocative and beautifully constructed, so I can forgive the frequent journeys into exposition.

This is not a book for young or squeamish readers, though. Even forewarned as I was, the level of gore in the book surprised me. I don’t necessarily have a problem with the depictions of the anthropophagus attacks, as their ferocity lent a sense of bloody urgency to the gothic atmosphere of the story. But some of the other scenes- the fate of Hezekiah Varner, the lingering over the deaths of young children, and the weird fixation on literal and metaphorical virgin sacrifices, for instance - seem to veer into the territory of shock for shock’s sake, which always strikes me as a little lazy (and has me mourning the current state of horror cinema).

That being said, though, Yancey treads the line between fun and over-the-top very well. While things occasionally get ridiculous, the entire story is deadly earnest, and there are plot reasons (or, at least, solid thematic writing) behind every bit of violence. I had a great time reading it, and while I’m not lying awake at night, I’m still thinking about some of the climactic moments. This is a great read for horror fans, teen or adult, that aren’t afraid of being revolted.

Verdict: 4 / 5

Graphic Novel Review - The Walking Dead, Vol. 6: This Sorrowful Life, by Robert Kirkman and Charlie Adlard

I’m starting to realize that Walking Dead is one of those series that boasts a large number of fans that are oblivious to or are willing to look past its flaws. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but it is what it is. The universal acclaim that these books get seems to be at odds with some of the problems it has, especially by this point in the series. This volume, simply put, isn’t put together very well, and isn’t much fun to read. Spoilers ahead.

The issues in this collection continue to chronicle the ordeals of Rick, Michonne, and Glenn at Woodbury, including their harrowing escape and return to the prison. The centerpiece of the volume is a long, graphic section of torture porn, as Michonne enacts her foreshadowed revenge on the Governor for raping and brutalizing her in the preceding days. They make it out of the city with the help of a few defectors, but find the prison overrun by zombies when they return. Fortunately, most of the people at the prison are safely holed up (waiting for Rick to get back before doing anything about it, I guess?), and they get their sanctuary secured and cleaned up again in short order. However, an incident with one of the Woodbury defectors stands as a stark reminder that they now have living, breathing potential enemies right on their doorstep.

I read this volume faster than I usually do, but not because I was glued to the action. I was waiting for something profound or even interesting to happen, and it never really did. The extended torture vignette couldn’t end fast enough; it added exactly nothing to the story, since it didn’t seem to affect Michonne’s character in any way other than Rick noticing the crazy mannerisms she’s had since she was introduced. Also, I guess it’s perfectly fine to illustrate rape and torture in graphic detail, rather than simply implying it like before, if the victim is a man who deserves it. It’s a little weird to complain about violence in a zombie comic, I admit, but the whole thing seemed gratuitous. Anyway, we’re introduced to a few new characters, and in the space of a few pages, one dies, one is immediately slotted into an archetypical role (the person with vague medical knowledge that must find the courage to become The Group's Doctor), and one is inexplicably revealed as a traitor and even more inexplicably murdered by Rick. Hmm.

What story there was made very little sense, and really only served as connecting the plot point from the last volume (the existence of another, grittier group of survivors) with whatever the heroes are going to do next. It’s not a bad collection, really, but I wouldn’t really classify it as good, either. It doesn’t really add anything, and could have done without a lot of the supporting details (like, for instance, the ridiculous gladiator fight scenario). The AMC series seems to be getting a lot of flack lately for aimless writing and confusing character decisions, but that’s seems to be the hallmark of this volume.

Honestly, I think I would have liked it better if I had read it as individual issues, with a cooldown period between each. There are a lot of powerful, visceral moments in the volume that leave a lasting impression if taken on their own, but they come off as weak and even silly when lumped together as a story arc. Now that we’re past the long introduction of the Woodbury group, though, I’m interested to see what happens next.

In short, this isn’t a terrible book, but it’s easily the weakest of the series thus far.

Verdict: 2 / 5

Graphic Novel Review - Dear Creature, by Jonathan Case

Dear Creature was placed enthusiastically in my hands by a librarian colleague, who knew about my rekindled relationship with graphic novels and insisted that I would love it. I was already intrigued by the pulp cover, but the description of an atomic sea creature that speaks in iambic pentameter and is looking for salvation through love was more than enough to sell me. Let this be a lesson to trust your local librarian when s/he suggests a book to you: other than a few minor quibbles, I did indeed love this little gem.

Written, illustrated, and designed all by triple-threat Case, the setup for this standalone graphic novel seems complicated at first glance. Grue is your typical sea monster, lurking in the depths of the ocean and emerging only to devour horny teenagers. Beneath his scaly exterior, however, beats the heart of a poet; he has learned to speak English through the castoff pages of Shakespearean classics, found in a series of mysterious notes-in-bottles. Inspired by the works of the Bard and moved by whoever left them for him to find, Grue seeks to transcend his predatory existence by discovering true love. He begins exploring dry land, egged on and occasionally mocked by a crass Greek chorus of amoral crabs that would much rather go back to snacking on cheerleaders. Meanwhile, however, a sheriff in a nearby seaside town has taken notice of all the missing kids, and his suspicions are leading him directly to Grue.

The artwork in this graphic novel is understatedly fantastic, using stark black-and-white illustrations that lend an appropriately retro feel to the book. The story itself lives up to all of the delightful quirks that are apparent on the surface. The creature himself is a lovable fiend, and his Shakespearean dialogue is charming. The secondary characters have surprising depth for so short a graphic novel, and defy every stereotype that one might expect for the roles that they play. And honestly, the book is worth reading just for Grue’s wisecracking crab companions.

The book hiccups a bit near the end, with a bizarre encounter with a giant squid that didn’t really add much, other than to reinforce the story’s undercurrent of silliness. It’s enough of a detour to make the end feel somewhat rushed. But other than that, this book was really an unexpected treasure. It blends themes and genres so effectively, and with such a sense of fun, that it is a solid read for anybody who is in the mood for a quirky love story.

Verdict: 4 / 5

Graphic Novel Review - The Walking Dead Vol. 5: The Best Defense, by Robert Kirkman and Charlie Adlard

Be warned: minor spoilers ahead.

All right. Before reading this volume, I went back and reread all of the trades up to this point, in order to recapture the narrative and get back into the spirit of the story for Halloween. A few things I noticed during the read-through:

1. I appreciate the switch to Adlard’s art after the first story arc. While Moore made the characters much more distinguishable from one another, he also lent an exaggerated aspect to their features and expressions that was almost cartoonish. The more realistic drawing from Adlard gives the artwork a gritty feel that’s more in line with the story.

2. Kirkman actually does a very good job in setting things up for future revelations. Much of what goes on in plot and character development is subtly constructed and foreshadowed in previous story arcs. And on that note:

3. I’ve said it before, but it’s definitely not my imagination. The world of the Walking Dead is profoundly misogynistic, populated with complicated male characters that are propped up by submissive, shallow female supporters. However, the jury is still out on whether this is a product of the story Kirkman is telling, or the heteronormative assumptions he makes while telling it.

In this volume, the story moves from a simmering internecine struggle to a more dangerous external conflict, as the sudden appearance of a helicopter leads Rick, Glenn, and Michonne to the doorstep of another survivor camp. This group is led by a man named Philip, who has styled himself The Governor. This new player in the story is quickly established as certifiably insane, as well as the extreme example of securing authority through the “might makes right,” do-anything approach to keeping people safe that Rick has been struggling with up until now. As the three protagonists begin their ordeal in the Governor's hands, the rest of the group back at the prison wait anxiously for their return, with no idea that a new, non-zombie threat is now bearing down on them.

As usual, I’m conflicted. The introduction of an honest-to-goodness, crazy-ass human villain that doesn’t immediately flame out and get shot in the next issue is exactly what the story needed. I appreciated the claustrophobic tension that suffused the last volume, especially considering that finding and keeping a sanctuary broke the formula that had previously been established. That sort of conflict can only keep up for so long before getting tiresome, though, and a clash with another survivor ideologue is the next logical step. As over-the-top as the Governor is, I needed a shock to the system. We’ve spent a lot of time in the past few arcs on what the end of the world has done to our heroes, so I appreciate the reminder that yes, by the way, it really is the end of the world. Dead people are trying to eat everyone that’s left, and that can make people justify doing some really screwed up things in the name of survival. I consequently ate this volume up. The story is exciting, the pace is perfect, and I’m primed for the fallout that’s sure to come in the following volumes.

Here’s the thing, though: did we really need another refresher course on how women are not welcome in this version of the zombie apocalypse? Maybe it’s because I reread everything, but the no-girls-allowed mood was already firmly entrenched. At this point it’s really starting to grate, and I wish Kirkman would stop harping on it and just fucking move on, already. I like that the theme of deconstructing nuclear families and monogamous relationships has appeared, but as foreshadowed, it comes from the female character that apparently can’t function without a man. More problematic, though, is that the reasoning for this development actually makes sense and is dramatically interesting, but is immediately met with “we don’t do that in Kentucky,” etc. I’m not sure if that was a reference to polyamory or homosexuality, but considering how Andrew and Dexter turned out and what happened to them, I wouldn't be surprised if homosexuality is unwelcome in this zombie apocalypse, too. We can forget about Andrea being a solid female protagonist, too, now that she's voiced her committment to doing whatever Dale tells her to do.

And, of course, Michonne. Oh, Michonne. To be fair, our sole remaining strong female character was effectively subjugated right as she was introduced in the last volume, when she immediately glommed onto a male protagonist for no other apparent reason than that they are both black. But yes, the brutal, prolonged rape and torture of Michonne for daring to physically attack the man that had, without provocation, maimed one of her companions was particularly hard to read. Not just because it’s hard to stomach on its own, but because Kirkman has decided to frame it in the perspective of what it does to the men around her. The Governor’s so crazy, he rapes people for fun! What a scary and interesting character! And oh, poor Glenn! Look how traumatized he is by having to hear Michonne being raped! Meanwhile, we get one line of dialogue from the victim herself concerning what she plans to do to her tormentor (which I’m convinced will happen, and will be as bad as she implies), but otherwise, no actual focus on what such horrific treatment is actually doing to her or what she is thinking. Other than some artistically drawn panels of her tied spread-eagle, of course, and renderings of her beaten face and cries of pain for dramatic effect. That says all we need to know, right? Sigh.

I usually don’t have patience for people that go searching for reasons to get offended, but Jesus, WE GET IT, ROBERT KIRKMAN. MEN ARE IN CHARGE. I think my problem with all of this is that Kirkman is taking pains to write what he feels might actually happen in a zombie apocalypse, which implies that somewhere deep down, he imagines violent patriarchy to be the natural order of things that would immediately be reestablished without social norms to hold it back. Admittedly, that’s an argument that can’t be dismissed offhand, considering that institutionalized rape and the relegation of women to submissive wards meant to be owned, guarded, shepherded, and/or used can be found this very moment in various parts of the real world (and even in our own “civilized” country). It’s still unpleasant, though, and I have yet to see the purpose for constantly reasserting it in every single story arc, especially since it’s largely done through and abetted by the female characters that I’m supposed to like and sympathize with.

But I’m still giving this one a four. Yeah, I know. Insensitive, privileged white male. The story is still fantastic, though, and I liked this volume much better than the previous few. It’s a really good zombie melodrama, and at this point in the series it’s still a great read for fans of the genre. Just, you know... trigger warning. Don't read this series with any illusions of it being more socially enlightened than any other comic book aimed at young men. Also, I’m realizing that most of the protagonists are pretty hard to like at this point, and I’m torn between finding that odd and recognizing it as interesting, as the reality of the world they are in continues to take its emotional toll on them.

Verdict: 4 / 5