Holy crap it's about a child fighting zombies?! Well, no, but that's not far from the truth.

A roommate of mine introduced me to The Walking Dead a few years back. This was around the time that I was ravenously mowing through any comic book or graphic novel I could get my hands on via my local library. After gaining a foothold in everything but zombies, I spied my roommate deeply entrenched in this new series. He told me that while it was about zombies, it wasn’t just hopping on the zombie craze popularized by The Zombie Survival Guide. Rather, this was a wholly unique story with its own set of rules and its own set of troubles. It took me a while but when I decided to jump in headfirst I was more than pleased with the results, even though it resulted in some nasty head-bites.

The Walking Dead comes to us from writer Robert Kirkman and artists Tony Morse (up until issue #7 and then covers through #24), and Charlie Adlard. Kirkman’s concept is extremely simple but it works perfectly. In one of the forewords in a deluxe volume of the series, Kirkman mentions how he loves zombie movies but hates that they end when, for instance, a group of survivors escape an overrun mall. To Kirkman, this didn’t feel like an end to the story, so he set about making a comic series that has no end in sight, which certainly becomes apparent having read through the first 11 volumes.

The story itself primarily follows officer Rick Grimes as a zombie outbreak occurs and persists for far longer than anyone would prefer. Everything starts with Rick getting shot in the line of duty and then waking up months later from a coma, only to find zombies littering the hospital. The story doesn’t let up since that initial “oh crap, zombies!” moment, sending him in search of his family and some sort of long-term shelter.

Long story short, there can be no happiness. Ever.

What’s probably most startling to learn is that the zombies themselves are rarely the cause of all the greater strife in the characters’ lives. Sure, zombies are the reason why everyone has been thrown into situations where bad things will inevitably happen, but instead of having zombies pop out of closets every single panel to create tension, it’s the individual characters, the humans, who are to blame for every single really stressful moment that occurs within the plot, more or less.

And stress is really what you’re going to have to become used to with The Walking Dead as moments to breathe are few and far between, if even existent at all. This is both the material’s greatest strength and worst quality. On the one hand, the feeling of suspense is palpable in every volume. You’re always, ALWAYS on the edge of your chair as you read what’s coming next. Even better, no character is safe from tragedy, an aspect that my roommate used most to convince me to read the damned books (cursing used properly in this case).

However, as I mentioned, this is also the downside, too. Sometimes it helps to be able to catch your breath every now and then, but The Walking Dead isn’t about making you feel warm and comfortable. As you read through each volume, you’ll constantly have a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach that just refuses to go away. Why? Because on the very next page you could find a character you love getting shot, stabbed, or eaten, and sometimes a combination of all of those. Simply, this isn’t a comic series for the faint of heart.

Three guesses as to whether good things will be foud on the very next page.

Don’t let me dissuade you to give it a try, though. You’ll be hard pressed to find a better example of a zombie story done right and more realistically in execution. Despite being a severe downer, you’ll actually care about the problems each character faces and want to see them succeed. And when they don’t, the impact is even stronger. Everything is done brilliantly here, so give it a look.

And that’s all I have to say about The Walking Dead. Anyone out there already a fan of the series? Or is anyone out there considering giving the series a try? Leave a comment and let me know, and while you’re at it, suggest something for Comic Book Club. C’mon, let’s all just try and get along, shall we?

Want more comic and book suggestions? Check these out:

-Novels of a New Age: A Review of Mogworld

-Comic Book Club: Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld

-Comic Book Club: Jack of Fables

That’s pretty much how he says ‘hi.’

Guess who we’re talking about today? Benjamin “Yahtzee” Croshaw, that’s who. Video Game’s very own Simon Cowell/Gordon Ramsay/Piers Morgan. I guess in today’s society, nearly every single art medium is required to have at least one grumpy, British, fast talking, smart mouthy critic, whom despite how much they universally despise humanity, humanity seems to love the crap out of watching them use words to rain destruction on everything that sucks about this world, and the few people who do hate them are usually bitter “victims” who either a.) can’t take a joke, or b.) won’t accept when brutally honest criticism is, in fact, not that far from the truth.

I myself have watched his lightning fast review segment, Zero Punctuation, every Wednesday for almost three years now, and despite having to listen through several instances where he would pulverize a personal favorite of mine (a few big ones being Uncharted 2 Among Thieves and Super Mario Galaxy 2) I can attest that his sharp wit and dark sense of humor has managed to be consistently entertaining every week. I have also come to the conclusion that given his style of nit picking every negative element he can find and not bothering to bring up the elements that are just okay, in addition to his history working as an actual game designer and dialogue writer, it would make sense that his reviews are more focused toward game developers rather than the people playing them.

Now that’s just my personal opinion on watching him as a critic, but that is not the nature of our main attraction today. Last year, Yahtzee published his very first novel with Dark Horse Books, and I have finally found some time to give it my undivided attention. A novel about magic, mayhem, villains, and would-be heroes. A novel that puts us in the mind of those undead henchmen we have slaughtered time and time again without ever giving a second thought. Gamers, bookworms, living and dead alike, welcome to Mogworld.

All right you limy smartarse. Now it’s your turn.

Mogworld (easily found at Dark Horse’s website)tells the story of Jim, an unassuming below-average mage attending classes at St. Gordon’s Magical College. Or at least he would be had his school not been invaded, resulting in his death caused by a feudal attempt to play the hero. No, turns out he’s actually been dead for nearly sixty years now, and just as he was getting perfectly comfortable with that, he was forcibly yanked back into his body, now a shambling corpse, by renegade necromancer Lord Dreadgrave. His troubles only begin there, as an inept thief known as Slippery John informs him of a global infusion that has prevented not just him, but anyone from dying. Random adventurers begin behaving in a strangely static fashion, not to mention that a ballistic priest named Barry with a personal vendetta against Jim is impractically growing in power and influence across the realms. So what is the solution our hero-to-be comes to? To seek out these angelic deleters and get them to erase him from existence so that he may die properly, once and for all.

No matter how fancy his words may be, it is still just his opinion. Adopt at your own risk.

It’s also hard not to enjoy yourself when the writing itself is just that darn funny. For those of you who expect this story to be full to the brim with poop jokes, penis jokes, and several other lowest common denominators we’ve commonly seen on Zero Punctuation, prepare to be surprised as Yahtzee manages to show just how creative he can be with wordplay in this genre. Sure, there are a few lowbrow jokes, as to be expected, but they are in no way overbearing in the way that would turn people off. Heck, I even managed to get through the entire 410 pages without finding a single Bramston Pickle reference.

So without further ado (and before I spoil anything else), I hereby give Mogworld a strong recommendation. The story is just about as original as you are going to get, and the characters, despite whether you come to love or hate Jim, have a great sense of variety and deliver some surprisingly unique dialogue. It has been revealed on Mr. Croshaw’s website that he is currently working on a second novel. Do to his highly public bitterness towards sequels, prequels, reboots, remakes, or anything of the sort, I am almost certain that it will have nothing to do with this story and be a whole new idea all on it’s own. I for one greatly look forward to see what else he has in store, but until then, you can order Mogworld on Amazon or Amazon.co.uk.

Want more reading recommendations? How about these:

-Comic Book Club: Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld

-Comic Book Club: Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour

-Comic Book Club: Fables

Somehow it out-weirds Fables, and that's saying something.

The premise of Jack of Fables differs from the main Fables story by way of Jack, the one from every fairytale that features a Jack of some sort. Instead of focusing on the ensemble aspect of the cast, Jack of Fables focuses almost exclusively on the titular character, even going so far as to let him narrate the story much of the time.

That’s the real change between the two series. Whereas Fables plays it the standard way and has the story told in the traditional comic book style, Jack of Fables goes out of its way to break the fourth wall in every episode. Jack frequently looks at the reader to make comments, mentions the artist of the month by name, and plays upon the structure of narrative in the literal sense.

In fact, most of the important characters of Jack of Fables are Literals, individuals with special powers who aren’t Fables but rather elements of a story. Mr. Revise, for example, has the ability to brainwash other characters and rewrite their being. One of my favorite characters is a Literal named Dex who pops in when the plot can’t be resolved by anyone else and then leaves as soon as he’s fixed everything.

Basically, Jack of Fables is the comic book for writers as the book plays heavily with nods that writers and the writing-savvy will appreciate. This is also where the series begins to bog itself down. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated every reference to Elements of Style that Willingham and Sturges can possibly cram into a plot arc, but after a while it starts to unravel the believability of the world and show frays at the seams, especially since this is supposed to take place in the same world as the main Fables storyline.

Also, girls tend to hate Jack, then love him, then kick him in the balls.

Initially, Jack finds himself trapped in a forced retirement home of sorts for Fables and magical creatures, which yields a ton of new characters from fairytales we had yet to see in the main Fables storyline such as Alice from Alice in Wonderland and the whole cast of The Wizard of Oz, but after Jack escapes a few times and takes along his sidekick Gary, well…the problems start to compound.

A few trade paperbacks in and you’ll agree that Jack of Fables is worth reading due to the excellent humor and writing-based commentary. But go a little further and you’ll see that Jack as a character isn’t very likeable, his sidekick is pretty annoying, and the distance the writing has to get stretched to incorporate all the literary references becomes painful at times. Eventually, as I said, so many super-powered characters are walking around, each with an ability that can create or alter the Fables world, that you start to just sort of wonder, “Why does this work?” Once I learned that every Fable was originally created by the same guy and that he can recreate them whenever he wants and has, suddenly each character starts to feel less powerful.

The specific plot I’m bringing up is where Jack of Fables (and possibly Fables itself) jumps the shark is referred to as The Great Fables Crossover. It becomes mostly a plot about how the Fables must somehow outsmart the Fables God in some convoluted way, ultimately resulting in an appearance of Dex that makes me go, “Okay, I suppose that’s the only way it would have made sense.”

There is, however, a lot to take in on most pages.

Don’t misunderstand me, everything before Crossover is perfectly grand. Jack’s character is hysterical in his crapulence and the side characters add a much-needed charm to the story, but after Crossover the series took a turn that I’m not sure I really like, a turn I’ll leave for you to judge for yourself.

And now I’m done with Fables again. Any loyal fans out there? Who’s your favorite Fables character? Leave a comment and let me know. I might change it to a comment I like better, but that’s just because I’m a Literal, or something like that.

Want more on comic books? Check out these articles:

-Comic Book Club: Ex Machina

-Comic Book Club: Superman: Secret Identity

-Comic Book Club: Chickenhare

Side note: The covers for Fables are consistently gorgeous.

Currently, Fables has 15 trade paperbacks (one is a side collection), not including seven from the spin-off Jack of Fables (that’s for another time). In the grand scheme, Fables just hit its 100th issue, placing it at quite the milestone for longevity.

The first collection starts things fairly simple, introducing the main Fables you’ll be following: Snow White is the deputy mayor of Fabletown to King Cole; her sister, Rose Red, is a troublesome no-good alongside Jack (the one from every story mentioning a Jack); Boy Blue is an assistant in the Fabletown offices while Flycatcher (the Frog Prince) is a janitor; Blue Beard is one of the wealthiest Fables left whereas Prince Charming has squandered his wealth and continues to mooch off his ex-wives.

My favorite character for the longest time turned out to be Fabletown’s sheriff, Bigby Wolf, AKA The Big Bad Wolf. He’s like if Wolverine were a little more of a badass and had less of a mysterious past. Bigby continually steals the show in a phenomenal ensemble cast, and that’s saying something.

Each of these covers show off some of the awesome characters in the most haunting way possible.

Initially things start slow. Well, maybe “slow” is the wrong term. We’ll go with “simmer.” A murder involving Rose Red comes to light and Bigby goes about tracking down her killer, eventually leading to an enjoyable final reveal in the last issue of the first trade paperback. Mainly we start to learn why Fables live in New York and it all has to do with a war in the Homelands as caused by someone named the Adversary, the identity of which isn’t revealed for many, many more issues.

As the series progresses, the problem moves from the immediate conflicts within Fabletown itself and how the residents have a tough time dealing with life in a foreign and non-magical land to the overarching conflict in the Homelands and the war abroad, eventually coming to an amazing and satisfying conclusion. And then of course Willingham sets up the next plot arc that, to my knowledge, has yet to be finished.

The strangest part of Fables, for me anyway, is how rapidly Willingham is capable of shift around your favorite character from one Fable to the next. For the longest time I thought no one could be cooler than Bigby, then Boy Blue way upstaged him, then Flycatcher way upstaged HIM, and the cycle just continued with side characters getting the spotlight here and there and most every Fable achieving a believable backstory within a reasonable amount of time, but not so reasonable that you don’t have to wait for it. Fables is a page-turner at its core, no matter how many volumes you have sitting next to you.

"Holy crap is that a djinni?!" I said to myself.

The reason for this is Willingham’s ease with story progression and character dialogue. Fables is not a comic book for children. Language, sex, and violence are everywhere. Granted, the original fairytales are much the same way, but that’s not the point. The point is how Willingham uses the source material to its fullest. Bigby gets a lot of playtime as an example of a well-established character you know and evolves into an entirely new one that feels faithful to what you’d expect. This happens with pretty much everyone that appears on the page.

That’s the best part of Fables (and possibly the easiest aspect for Willingham to write): Just about every character already has a basic backstory imbedded in your head. You’re already aware that Snow White lived with seven dwarves, that Beauty and the Beast are married, that Mogli is an adventuring outdoorsy type, and that King Cole is indeed a merry old soul. There’s only room to move forward, assisting in the momentum of the story. You won’t have to get bogged down whenever a new character is mentioned because when Cinderella shows up you already know roughly where she came from and how she’ll act.

Willingham leaves no corner of the world unturned, either. I thought I’d get to the point where I’d just start checking off the remaining Fables he could possibly use, but that never turned out to be the case, probably because the amount of Fables in the public domain are nearly endless. Without making some sweeping conclusion like saying Fables is the only reason anyone should be writing stories about fairytales grown up…well I don’t know how to finish that sentence.

So here's one final cover instead.

No one quite succeeds like Willingham succeeded with his comic, so go out there and read up on the greatest story ever told regarding every story ever told. You won’t be disappointed, even if you’re a cold-hearted hater of fairytales. This is Disney on crack in the best way, so kudos Willingham, and good luck on the next 100 issues!

Want more Comic Book Club? Check these out:

-Comic book Club: Omega the Unknown

-Comic Book Club: Stitches: A Memoir

-Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour: A Comic Book Club Review

That's a snazzy cover right there. Familiar yet strange.

A few weeks ago I was at the library searching through whatever graphic novels happened to be out at the time. I picked up the first volume of Hellboy and the newest volume of Fables, but off to the side in what I assume are “Staff Recommendations” were Stitches and Omega the Unknown. I’d heard of neither of those, but as it turns out, Stitches was awesome. So would Omega the Unknown be awesome, too? Absolutely, otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here telling you to read that as well.

Omega the Unknown is a strange book. Told in ten chapters, it covers a whole lot of ground and introduces a bunch of fascinating characters, such as Alex, a kid raised by robots, as well as a strange hero from space, a girl from his high school, The Mink, and even a random talking head…thing. It’s all very tough to explain, but the simple summary is that there are robots and a kid that shoots energy from his palms. Go with that.

Within the first chapter or two, I had a lot of questions. Answers would come, but sparingly and only when it really made sense. I can’t think of a moment where the plot has to come to a complete halt just to explain something. Everything flows naturally from start to finish. I was always surprised when a plot point was explained because I’d almost missed it. This is actually a very good thing. A lot of times, plot points hit way too hard and overly dramatically, sometimes seeming out of place or completely lame compared to what I’d pieced together in my head. Omega the Unknown’s plot gives details that you agree with and move on from. I had to stop a few times and go, “Wait, how did I know this happened here? Oh, that’s right, they answered that a chapter ago while I wasn’t looking.” So major kudos to authors Jonathan Lethem and Karl Rusnak.

This is the first page. Let it soak into you for a moment and hook you right in.

Let’s not forget the art here, though. Farel Dalrymple illustrates and Paul Hornschemeier does the colors, and in case you don’t believe me that they made an excellent team, go look at one of the pages I posted. The colors scream “super hero comic,” but the illustrations are somewhat sloppy in a good way, the sort of style that lets individuality breath here. Omega the Unknown doesn’t remind me of anything else I’ve read despite feeling so familiar.

I wasn’t aware until finishing the book and reading the back section that Omega the Unknown was originally a Marvel Comics character from the 70’s that lasted for ten issues. Reading through I discovered that the team at work here made sure to parallel their story very closely to a lot of the major themes of the original run since it had such an impact on them as kids. The result just left me fulfilled as a reader. I loved every bit of this book.

So you’ve got your new recommendation for a graphic novel. Go read Omega the Unknown and make the title ironic. Or don’t go read it and let it stay a quiet masterpiece. Whatever, I’m just trying to help you out. That’s all for now, so go read!

Want more from the Comic Book Club? Check these out:

-Comic Book Club: Marvels

-Comic Book Club: Superman: Secret Identity

-Comic Book Club: Scott Pilgrim Books 1-5

Even the front cover hooks me in.

Stitches: A Memoir is a style of comics I don’t usually go for. I’m just not big on the self-biopic seen most notably in Persepolis or Fun Home, both decent but hindered greatly by truth, or whatever “truth” they choose to tell. Stitches is a little different here since the story at work plays out as a real story rather than a collections of events. Persepolis was good, but it didn’t feel like it had a real build or a satisfying conclusion. With Stitches, there seems like just enough here to get engaged with, build to reveals and an ultimate conclusion, but it doesn’t feel like it’s slamming you over the head with a message or something overly ambitious, as biopics tend to do.

This isn’t to say Stitches is without value. I don’t want to accidentally undersell it because it’s definitely something that got under my skin and stuck there. I was able to read it in probably an hour, though the imagery is still with me. I was given the advantage of going in 100% fresh, allowing myself to experience Stitches exactly as a story I don’t know anything about. I recommend doing the same, so I’m not going to tell any of the plot.

Here's just a sample of the artwork. See? It's awesome.

In essence, Stitches is a book that writer and artist David Small wrote as a means of dealing with his own past. He’s done art for other books over his career, such as So You Want To Be President, but this was his project and his alone, showing great care to create a profoundly spooky atmosphere with simple textless images. There are points that you’ll be unsettled just from watching the characters walk around hallways or stare at each other. I’m going with the trite description and say that Stitches is truly “haunting” in its presentation, leaving you shocked at appropriate times and smirking at others. The art is incredibly familiar but unknown at the same time. It’s really just cool to look at.

I’m at a loss here because if I say too much, the impact won’t be the same, but if I say too little it might discourage you from picking up an honestly fantastic read. So I’m going to go ahead and let Small’s work speak for itself. Go read Stitches either at your local library or pick it up cheap on Amazon. I can’t overstate my recommendation here. This is a graphic novel that shows just how much the medium has evolved in such a short time, so high praise. Now go read it daggumit!

Want more Comic Book Club? Check these out:

-Comic Book Club: Ex Machina

-Comic Book Club: Superman: Secret Identity

-Comic Book Club: Chickenhare

I came to love these guys. I'm really gonna miss them.

The first thing to keep in mind with Book 6 (or Volume 6, I don’t really know what best to call it) is that it’ll mean pretty much nothing if you haven’t been reading the series. There are five books to read first (obviously, but you’re all smart people), so jumping in at the conclusion is going to leave you confused and, above all, completely unable to enjoy the ending, whatever it may be.

The whole positive to the series is that while it is six books long, the books aren’t very expensive. I got my copy of Book 6 for $12, and that was only because I was impatient and needed it right this very second. Amazon has copies of each book for much cheaper, meaning you can probably get all six books for under $60, a reasonable price.

I’ve already talked about the series before, so you know what I think there, but what about now? Thankfully, Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour is packed with the same sort of random, almost unexplainable panels that will make you smile and possibly laugh out loud. Seriously, I don’t know what the term is to describe them. Meta? Maybe? I’m going with that. It’s as if Scott’s narrating his life upon rewatching it and throwing in the best descriptions possible.

And each page, as usual, is excellent in its own little way.

I will say this about the ending though: I’m still a little confused. A lot of strange tying of loose ends takes place, and it can be somewhat jarring to read through. Things happen that seem to just happen because they happen, and a few times I regretted not already owning the previous five volumes so I could look back and understand what the heck was going on. Regardless, the ending is satisfying enough and everything is wrapped up nicely. There’s not a very large chance we’ll be seeing a seventh volume any time soon.

Overall, if you’ve been reading Scott Pilgrim’s Epic Little Story, yeah, you need the final book right now. If you haven’t read the series yet, now is the best time due to having it completed and with a promise of a very cool-looking movie out next month (which Kyle and I will definitely review). And that’s pretty much all there is to say on the matter. Bryan O’Malley created a hell of a series here, and I only hope he continues making stuff like this.

Anyone else read the final chapter? What did you think? Let me know and leave a comment. In the meantime, I need to figure out how to pull swords from my chest.

Certainly one of the best comics you can be reading right now.

It’s been a good long while since I’ve mentioned comic books, hasn’t it? I keep making this mistake and I apologize. The biggest problem is, the best comic books and graphic novels I read tend to be, well, less than child friendly. But, in the interest of giving honest recommendations, I have one of my favorite comic series for the Comic Book Club. Hang on ‘cause I’m gonna recommend Ex Machina today.

Not All Heroes Need Be Great

A little bit of trivia about me will reveal that Brian K. Vaughan is one of my favorite comic writers at the moment. Of the things he’s written, Ex Machina tends to be my favorite, beating out what may be his more popular series, Y: The Last Man. My reasoning behind the love is Vaughan’s dialogue. I’m huge on dialogue, so when a writer does it well, by which I mean characters exchange what seems like natural and interesting conversations without feeling too wordy, then I’m happy. And Tony Harris’ artwork only helps translate Vaughan’s script to the page, making him a great artist to check out.

That may look wordy, but somehow it's a fast read anyway.

The central story of Ex Machina follows Mitchell Hundred as mayor of New York City. The story is told in constant flashbacks to before he was mayor and while he is currently mayor. What makes him special is that he was briefly a super hero called the Great Machine and can talk to machines of all sorts after getting caught in some freak explosion. Hundred’s origins are interesting without seeming stupid, and as a character he’s vastly deeper than the usual hero you encounter. Hundred tries to be a hero and fails miserably since, well, super heroes don’t really exist. Instead he runs for mayor and wins because in this history, the Great Machine stops the second plane from hitting the towers. I wish I could find that panel and post the image, but just trust me, it’s pretty sweet. Definitely one of the most powerful images I’ve seen in a comic book.

So because of this huge popularity boost, Hundred becomes the new mayor and so most of the plot arcs contain both something supernatural as well as him just dealing with mayoral business. Surprisingly, the political situations are vastly more interesting to me and I have no idea why. Probably because Mayor Hundred acts like we’d all hope we would as a mayor: Snarky, intelligent, and rational. Totally unbelievable, but fun to read.

Probably one of the most interesting super heroes to be created.

I will say that the real downside to this, as with most of Vaughan’s writing, is the characters tend to be written a bit too clever. What do I mean by that? I mean that one character will make some extremely obscure reference to something that few other people would really appreciate, yet whoever he’s talking to will perfectly understand the reference. That’s like me assuming that everyone would get the joke if I told them to go to HFIL. The only problem is that in Vaughan’s world, all his characters are as clever as he is, and it’s just not believable.

Despite the idealized nature of the dialogue, all the characters are interesting. You’ll find yourself caring what happens to these people and the situations they find themselves in, and even more you’ll find yourself enjoying the plots and the resolutions. But Ex Machina is currently in 10 parts with the final volume not yet released (November is when it’s expected out). Because of this I go crazy since I need a story to have utter closure before I can move on. When you read Ex Machina, you’ll certainly need to trek through the volumes in order and immediately following on another. Reading something in between may cause you to forget critical plot elements that you’ll need when continuing on.

Then again, when things are this good, you won't have a problem wanting to read on.

And that’s really the only thing I worry about when recommending Ex Machina. It’s a fantastic series, but if you read the first volume and like it, as I suspect will be the case, you better be ready to read the next nine to resolve everything. That’s why I strongly recommend making a trip to our local library, otherwise check out the first volume and never look back. You’ll most likely thank me.

I must be on a serious Kurt Busiek kick, because two of the five Comic Book Clubs have him as the writer.

It’s been a while since the last Comic Book Club, hasn’t it? Don’t think I haven’t been neglecting my comic and graphic novel side. Oh no, I’ve been quite busy reading some excellent material (seriously, check out Wolverine: Old Man Logan if you can tolerate a lot of gore), but the tricky thing is finding something worth really sharing. I started with a Marvel-based book, so I realized it was time to balance the scale with a DC-based book. And what better comic to talk about than Superman? Except I’m not talking about a normal Superman comic, I’m talking about Super: Secret Identity by Kurt Busiek and Stuart Immonen, and it’s not like the other Superman stories.

A Superman We Can Relate To

I must confess that when it comes to superheroes, I was never a fan of Superman. But no matter how much I wanted to hate the Man of Steel, I couldn’t, mostly because I realized that the character isn’t the problem so much as the writers. In the wrong hands, Superman plays like he always does, with the usual clichés and the final solution to the plot resolving with Superman punching harder. Even when faced with an impossible solution, Superman or a variation of Superman can find closure by punching something hard enough, even if there’s nothing around to punch, forcing him to just punch time.

It's tough being a kid named Clark Kent.

This isn’t the case with Superman: Secret Identity, partly because the Superman in question isn’t actually Superman. The concept is sheer brilliance as the story revolves around a kid in the “real” world named Clark Kent. His parents were fans of Superman and thought it’d be funny to name their son Clark, so he grows up hating Superman since everyone assumes he absolutely loves and knows everything about Superman, having the same name.

It starts on a very relatable level with the coming-of-age story, but where things get great is when one day Clark actually manifests Superman’s powers, just not to the godly amount you see in the usual comics. He can still fly, has super strength, and is mostly indestructible, among other things. Suddenly the story shifts to him dealing with these powers in a world grounded in slightly more reality than the Superman we’re used to, and throughout the 4-issue arc I couldn’t be happier.

Of course he still wears the iconic outfit. It just wasn't made on Krypton.

As I said, Superman is good when written correctly, and Busiek nails it here, probably because it isn’t really Superman he’s writing for. I could actually feel for this character rather than just wonder when he’ll remember to punch harderest in the correct direction (any). Immonen’s artwork just adds to the mood by being colorful without going over the top. It’s just enough to work perfectly.

If I had to pick any Superman story to recommend, this is the one, even if you don’t consider it “Superman.” There’s just enough here to get into without feeling let down and there’s not so much that it’s overwhelming. It’s perfect. Superman couldn’t write a better story if he tried. Maybe if he punched harder.

I bet you haven't heard of this one, have you?

My hope is that by now you have enough confidence in me and my choices to trust just about anything I say. I’m going to need you to continue doing just that because there is a pretty cool book in today’s Comic Book Club that needs to be read. I’ll just give the name first and let you ponder it for a second: Chickenhare. Really yet? Let’s get started.

Highly Recommended, Yet Under-read

Chickenhare is a graphic novel series written and drawn by Chris Grine, currently in technically its third volume. Ooh, I’m already getting technical on you, and I haven’t even explained what a “Chickenhare” is. Slow down, I’ll get to these things. Consider first that the books are recommended by not only Jeff Smith (the author of Bone), but also Stan Sakai, the creator of the series Usagi Yojimbo. Those are two hefty endorsers there, but can the book really be that good? Well I’m endorsing it too, so yes.

As you can see, it's got a very cartoony look to the art. Good stuff there.

Alright, the story follows Chickenhare, a half chicken, half hare character, and Abe, a bearded turtle, as they get themselves into a few rough situations, the first involving being sold to a taxidermist where they meet Banjo and Meg, two mysterious characters. That makes up the primary group for the first book. The second book involves them going to the Underworld to…okay, go read it because I don’t want to spoil things.

I’m a big fan of the art style here since it’s very clean and crisp. The books also don’t get overly wordy, though they don’t skimp on the action. I’ve been consistently impressed that the books push right at the door of being in the realm of older audiences, yet can be read by any age group and enjoyed. All-age friendly without seeming all-ages friendly? That’s good work there Mr. Grine.

Your Call To Action

Dark Horse published the first two books called House of Klaus and Fire in the Hole, respectively, but poor sales forced them to decide to nix the option of a third volume. So what happened as a result? Chris Grine opted to write and release it for free as a web comic at his site www.chickenhare.com. Go take a look after you read the first two volumes. There isn’t a whole ton of the new story up yet, but what’s there has got me hooked on yet another story arc.

We want you to live, too, Scabby. If only more people were reading your book.

Overall, Chickenhare has all the elements of a seriously great yet seriously underrated comic. These are the series you really want to get into for the following reason: No one else knows about them yet. This is how you become a real comic snob without having to read tons of things. I’m giving you the tools to find something worthy of cult status before it hits, making you part of the original fans and not just bandwagon jumpers. Opportunities like this are rare.

That’s all for today. Go read Chickenhare and tell your friends to do the same. I want this series to keep going, so let’s rally support for Chris Grine and Chickenhare!

Is Dante's Inferno offensive? Let's Think Deep. Also yes.

Usually I tend to be very silly and less serious than the typical individual when I write my articles. That’s just my style and also because I have the mental capacity of a seven-year-old. However, I’m about to go into a Let’s Think Deep that is going to tread on some extremely serious, touchy, and possibly inflammatory grounds. I’m going to be talking about Christianity, or more specifically, how Christianity appears in Dante’s Inferno. Not the classic Italian poem. No, the new video game based on said epic, and I use the phrase “based on” extremely loosely. So if you’re ready to Think Deep, let’s begin.

A Book You Should Have Read

If you don’t already know the background for the things I’ll be discussing, don’t worry, I’ll fill you in as best I can. Firstly, you need to know that Dante’s Inferno is the first part of three of The Divine Comedy, an epic poem written by a one Dante Alighieri, in which the author goes on a journey through Hell guided by the Roman poet Virgil, a real historical figure Dante looked up to. This is all very serious business here. Most people don’t realize that Dante’s Inferno is only part one of three since the other two parts, taking place in Purgatory and Heaven, respectively, aren’t as interesting since it is really hard to top the imagery that Hell can conjure up.

Dante’s journey takes him through nine circles of Hell, each having specific punishments and tortures for the various individuals trapped there for all eternity, usually involving ironic punishments for their sins, such as corrupt politicians being boiled in a lake of pitch, representing their sticky fingers and dark secrets. There are a ton of things like that (I chose a less-violent punishment for demonstration, but rest assured, it can get gruesome), and as Dante traverses these circles he speaks with various residents, learning what they did to end up here. What makes this even better is the inclusion of people Dante actually knew in the circles as a way of him gaining poetic justice (yes, pun totally intended). If he hated you and thought you made his life miserable in some way, you better believe he placed you in Hell somewhere along his trip.

Dante is a voyeur throughout the poem as all he does is just watch. He doesn’t get to save anyone or change anything, nor is he ever in any real danger since the whole point of this journey is to help him understand how NOT to wind up there. In the third part of The Divine Comedy a woman named Beatrice, also based on a real person whom Dante had never met in real life but always loved, escorts him through Heaven. And that’s the story of Dante’s Inferno and beyond as it was actually written.

So how the heck did EA take that and come up with this:

Oops, I don't think Visceral Games really "got" Dante's poem.

Because “God of War” Was already Taken

I played through the demo last night to fully understand what was happening in the game, and so far I have learned that, mainly, EA wanted to get in on some of God of War’s popularity but couldn’t use Greek and Roman mythology since it would look too much like God of War. So their likely conclusion was to absolutely bastardize a brilliant piece of literature and in doing so totally tick me off.

Dante’s Inferno, the EA version developed by Visceral Games, stars Dante, a knight of some sort from the Third Crusade that apparently has a sordid past. He is killed by some random, worthless enemy in the very beginning of the game but refuses to die and fights Death, somehow beating him and stealing his scythe (made from bones of course). Dante travels home to find his loving fiancé Beatrice dead, just because, and Lucifer is stealing her soul, prompting Dante to chase after him into Hell to find her, getting advice from Virgil as he goes. Do you see the connection to the original poem? Yes, I do too, and it doesn’t really hold up. If I made a soup and said it was based on a ham sandwich you’d probably look at me like I was stupid, even after I told you I put some ham in the soup just so I could call my soup a ham sandwich.

A Thesis Statement At Last

But now comes the tricky part: Why would EA and Visceral Games choose Dante’s Inferno as a suitable background for a video game? I can come up with multiple reasons. First, they want to get street-cred as the developer/producer that used a piece of classical literature for source material in a game, a point I’ll refute in time. Secondly, they want to be able to gather shock value for being able to say, “Yeah, we went there,” since Dante’s Hell, the one from the actual poem, is incredibly graphic and for mature audiences only. More on that later. And lastly, and probably most importantly, they saw how popular God of War was, as I already said, and needed a way to recreate that “epic storyline” without resorting to Greek and Roman mythology. That is where I’ll draw a lot of my arguments here. So let’s get ready to Think Deeper.

You remember in The Divine Comedy where Dante fought with Death? Apparently I wasn't reading closely enough.

Credibility Only Goes So Far

As my first main point states, transforming Dante’s Inferno from an epic poem to an epic video game does garner some semblance of credibility since it’s something you rarely see in video games. It’s supposed to be a big step towards making video games more respectable, but they entirely fumble the concept when they attempt to think past, “Okay, so let’s ride on the respected poem’s popularity.” I’m an English major and a writer, so yeah, there are a few things I actually respect beyond Ninja Turtles and Super Mario Bros. I have a high love of Shakespeare for one because I’m big into writing dialogue and Shakespeare was the master of dialogue. I’m also big on Milton’s Paradise Lost as it deals with The Fall From Grace, a subject I constantly deal with in my own stories. You could probably see the connection to The Divine Comedy since it deals so well with Heaven, Hell, and what sends you to either according to one man’s opinion. So messing with this is going to immediately prick up my warning signals that something is amiss.

The thing is, they won’t be pulling in the people they want to pull in by saying the game is connected to classic literature. People that have already read Dante’s Inferno and loved it will absolutely hate the video game version, partly because it takes something they loved and took out all the parts they enjoyed. It will, however, strengthen the crowd of gamers that believe whatever they’re told about their games, so when they find out this game with breasts and decapitation and everything is “based” on a classic poem, they’ll get the impression that shallowness all around is not only awesome, but it’s defended by classical literature.

Also, basing something off of anything doesn’t instantly make it good. When was the last time a movie-game turned out to be even half as respected as the critically acclaimed movie it was based on? Were The Godfather games something stellar? Not exactly. Sure, they weren’t bad, but they definitely didn’t share the credibility that the movies do. But in this case, Dante’s Inferno isn’t just taking a basic concept and running with it, it’s completely forgetting the parts that the original was based on. Dante’s Inferno the poem was an allegory about the human soul’s journey to redemption and repentance. Dante’s Inferno the video game is about shock value through and through. Not getting the outrage here? Try taking The Chronicles of Narnia and deciding to make a video game where Aslan goes around killing everything in order to save some kids that accidentally stumbled into Narnia. See how the original fanbase reacts to the changes you make. I’m still undecided as to whether the new book-deal is a good thing or a bad thing since Dante’s Inferno the poem is now being reprinted with the same cover as Dante’s Inferno the video game, bone-scythe-wielding crusader and all. Sure, it’ll tick off a lot of people expecting the book to be anything like the video game, but at least it gets people to read the source material.

It's surprisingly hard to find "Family Friendly" images of this game. No kids, don't go looking.

A Shocking Truth

Now about my second point, the whole “shock value” thing, you lose any credibility you may have had using a classic poem when you decide to use as much shock value as possible afterward. You can’t rightfully say you were inspired by the poem when you then go on to sexualize violence to the basest degree. The God of War series romanticizes, sexualizes, and fetishizes violence in every way possible, but so does the source material of Greek and Roman mythology. Dante’s Inferno was, and I know I’m repeating myself, a poem about NOT romanticizing ANYTHING sinful. It was meant to be an extremely heavy-handed warning about any and all sins, even going so far as creating a “Boogieman” effect where the reader is so terrified to experience these horrors themselves that they are prompted to remember these details whenever they sin or come close to sinning. Dante in the story has no chance to fix anything he sees and neither does the reader. The shock value sticks. I’ll always remember the scene where Dante witnesses a line of souls eternally being sliced in half by a demon with a massive sword, only to be healed as they walk around and wait their turn to be hacked in half once more. That’s poetically shocking.

Dante’s Inferno the video game doesn’t have shock value that means anything since you play as Dante yourself. You see something shocking in Hell, no problem, you get to kill it. The actual shock and horror of the events don’t stick in your mind, but rather how cool you look when you kill the demon in some spectacular display of “Hoorah!” and Quicktime Events. Just because it has an entire level devoted to the sin of “Lust” where everything is a phallic symbol or a breast or a piece of anatomy and then makes sure none of that looks sexy doesn’t make it poetic or clever or any of that. You want shocking with a point? Play Silent Hill 2. The enemies are all representations of sexual depravity in one way or another but you’re never told this straight-out. When you figure it out, it takes you to a new level of “Whoa,” but in Dante’s Inferno, no, it just isn’t happening. It just gets too difficult to make much of a statement when the main character is going around goring everything he sees with a scythe made from a human spine. Nuh-uh, not gonna fly.

Why is that? There has to be a point to all the shocking things you throw at someone and then beyond that there needs to be a real grounding point for people to relate to. In Silent Hill 2, the main character has lost his wife but harbors guilt since he was the one that killed her, though he has a subconscious discomfort with sexual images due possibly to the extended period his wife was sick before her death. There is character depth from seeing enemies inspired by subconscious fears or phobias. Dante’s Inferno just throws shock after shock at you but none that relate specifically to Dante since all he has to do is slash his way to rescue his lost love. Yes, there is a sub-plot about him repenting for his own sins, but those sins all relate to murdering people since he was a crusader and that’s all they did (no offense to practicing crusaders of course).

With using Hell as the jumping ground for the game, Visceral Games get to throw in everything they possibly want in terms of shocking. All I’ve done is play the demo and see the trailer for the game and I can already tell the sort of things they think are shocking and I can safely say, oops, God of War sort of did it first. There’s just a problem of having Dante being capable of fighting off any threat since he’s already killed Death. Why should these shocking things actually be shocking to him? Or to us for that matter? I’m at a loss there, so I’ll just move on to my most inflammatory point.

Turning a Religion into a Joke For Profit

So why Dante’s Inferno? As I said, the God of War franchise already had Greek and Roman mythology secured as its domain. No other big titles were allowed to touch it, especially when emulating the style of God of War, i.e. a hack n’ slash with Quicktime Events, a fascination with over-the-top fatalities, and above all an otherworldly atmosphere. Greek and Roman mythology is off limits, so where does Visceral Games turn? Christian mythology. And there is my main problem: They’ve reduced fundamental Christian beliefs and concepts to a level that matches Greek and Roman mythology. You. Just. Can’t. Do. That.

This is pushing it right here for tasteful.

Why is that? Because they’re also doing it wrong insomuch as the subject matter needs to be handled with far more care than they’re allotting it. This is all speculation off of the demo, mind you, but I’d assume I have a fairly good grasp of where things are going. If EA would like to send me a copy to review, sure, I’d be all for being a bit more fair in my assessment. As of now I have to go off of the demo and everything I’ve heard about the game, such as the marketing campaign of “Looking like jackasses.” So far EA has tried to do a marketing campaign that hits as many of the seven deadly sins at it can, with it’s E3 promotion going hilariously bad when it went for Lust, telling gamers to go snap a picture with the most attractive Booth Babe to win glittering prizes. Later, they sent game journalists a $200 check and said that if they cash it they’re guilty of Greed but if they don’t cash it they’re guilty of Waste. Finally, a box was once more sent to game journalists that when opened Rickrolled them and wouldn’t stop until they smashed the box, demonstrating Wrath. These sins cannot and should not be used as marketing campaigns since the executives at EA are attempting to be oh-so clever with things that aren’t exactly black and white according to individuals that believe and study the Bible. Even worse, EA hired people to protest their own game as a means of inciting some sort of promotion or news coverage. This means they effectively protested their own game in such a way that they made Christian protesters look bad, so now everyone will think you’re ridiculous if you ACTUALLY protest the game. That’s just shameful EA.

But why am I bothered by the game itself? Because of one simple function the game allows Dante to do: either condemn or absolve souls. Let me stop for a moment of poetic silence and let you think about the meanings behind this before I continue. So once more, Dante, the main character of the game, is able to choose between condemning souls by gutting them, or absolving their sins by forcing a glowing Crucifix into their face.

Contemplate this now.

I'm serious.

If you haven’t seen a problem, and I’m seriously not trying to be silly, you need to think REALLY hard about what’s happening here. Yes, it falls under MY deadly sin of a video game giving me a stupid morality choice based on two extremely polar opposites. Beyond that the real question is two-fold: Who is Dante to be given this power over people’s souls and why does he have this power? The Crucifix Dante uses is one that Beatrice gave him to symbolize their eternal love. He then blesses it himself and it gains what appears to be magical powers, such as being able to shoot white Crucifixes as a ranged attack and, as aforementioned, to absolve souls.

The Crucifix seems to be everywhere in the demo by the way. Dante begins the game by stitching a red cross to his chest, to his CHEST, so that he remembers all the sins he’s done in his past. He has the Crucifix weapon as well which glows white whenever it’s used. Late in the demo a large wooden cross falls across your path and naturally, said cross is on fire. Fire demons spawn from the burning cross and once killed, parts of the cross break away until you can continue past. You have got to be EXTREMELY careful when using cross-imagery in things you do, but all I’m seeing is the cross thrown around haphazardly because it can be and in some cases as shock value once more.

And Then God Takes a Nap

So I still have to ask: What makes Dante so special? It’s one thing to say that someone is “The Chosen One” and that’s why he’s able to do all the things he does. Sure, fine, I’m all for “The Chosen One.” I have nothing wrong with that. No, it’s what Dante as this particular Chosen One can do that has some problems: absolve sins. I can’t phrase that any more accurately since the choice pops up saying “Punish” or “Absolve” when you have enemies at the end of your scythe. I don’t want to get down and dirty about this, but if my memory serves me correct, and I’m pretty sure it does, the only guy according to Christianity, the source material the game is so heinously taking from, that is able to truly absolve souls is Jesus. Please, someone correct me if I’m way off here.

Remember this guy? You can't use Christianity as a background without also putting Jesus above everything else. It's just how it works, otherwise the fundamentals of the material breaks down.

So if Dante can absolve souls, mostly just used as a finishing attack, what makes it favored over condemning souls? One way gives you experience points used for upgrading attacks while the other fills up a Redemption meter used for larger, more devastating attacks. So while you can choose to save certain souls, what choice does it come down to? Is your Redemption meter depleted? Well, looks like it’s time to save souls and all that. Is it already full? Awesome, time for more experience points. They’ve reduced something that’s already charged with controversy into little more than a means to fill your attack meter, otherwise known as: made it completely inconsequential whether this guy is saving souls because he wants to or because he needs to. Beyond being insensitive on a stupid level, that’s just bad character motivation.

Let’s say God has given Dante the power to choose the fate of any and every soul he encounters. What would that mean for the game? Dante is encouraged to destroy everything that gets between him and Beatrice and only really stops to save souls when he needs to charge his ultimate attacks. Why would a just God allow this to happen? We’re playing with SOULS here. The game is somehow going out of its way to point out to you that souls are entirely meaningless beyond your own selfish gratification, both to you and to whatever God allowed Dante to be in the position of power he’s currently in.

So this is how EA sees the Christian mythology? Yes, Dante wrote about Hell in a very extreme way, and he placed real people wherever he saw fit, but it was him doing it, not the reader. In the video game we get to make these moral choices as the actual gamer and suddenly that starts to feel a little weird to me. I’d be totally okay with the game if it just had some guy running through Hell wasting everything in his path as long as he wasn’t also granted powers over any and all souls he meets.

Wrapping Things Up

You know what? Given the facts of everything, given the obvious resemblance to God of War and the religiously charged imagery and the shock value, I’d still probably play the game if it wasn’t called “Dante’s Inferno.” Why? Because currently it gets to hide behind the title. Everyone that gets in a stink about the game can’t focus blame on EA or Visceral Games because it can all get deflected to the original Dante’s Inferno since, “Dude, that poem was eff’d up!” I’d have far more respect for the game if it were called “Land of Dis” or “The Nine Circles” or some other “epic” title like that because then at least the developers would have to stand tall and say, “Yes, we made these decisions because we felt they were important to the game.” But instead we get the epic Italian poem turned hack and slash shock-fest and I, for one, couldn’t be more frustrated.

To sum everything up, I’m worried that EA’s Dante’s Inferno is offensive without needing to be since it clearly uses Christian mythology to replace Greek and Roman mythology in a game, allowing it to rip off God of War without being sued. In the process, they’ve granted the title character the power to judge the fate of souls but not made said character Jesus, the only one in actual Christian mythology capable of doing such a task and thus making it potentially offensive. In the end we either have a means to get people to read the original poem The Divine Comedy or we have a lot of people that actually read The Divine Comedy feeling completely cheated since something they love is being reduced to the lowest-common denominator. Does that about sum things up? I think so.

And now we come to the end of this beast of an article and the final important detail: What do YOU think? Does all of this sound like something that’s gone too far? Have you played the demo and feel that I’m way off on my conclusions? Do I just seem combative for no reason? Or am I right on one or more of my points? I both want and need to know what you think and the only way short of writing me a letter is posting a comment here. Let’s really get some discussion going this time. This is one of those debates that could really mean something.