This site is updated Thursday afternoon with a new article about an artistic pursuit generally considered to be beneath consideration. James Schellenberg probes science-fiction, Carol Borden draws out the best in comics, Chris Szego dallies with romance and Ian Driscoll stares deeply into the screen. Click here for their bios and individual takes on the gutter.
While the writers have considerable enthusiasm for their subjects, they don't let it numb their critical faculties. Tossing away the shield of journalistic objectivity and refusing the shovel of fannish boosterism, they write in the hopes of starting honest and intelligent discussions about these oft-enjoyed but rarely examined artforms.
Recent Features
ROUND THE DECAY OF THAT COLOSSAL WRECK
In the run-up to, and wake of, the release of Watchmen, it has become common currency to say that adapting Zach Snyder, et al undertook a massive challenge in adapting Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ complex, sprawling medium- and genre-defining work for the screen.
But I’m going to suggest that they actually undertook an even more massive challenge: adapting Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ complex, sprawling medium- and genre-defining work for the screen - and completely missing its point.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By gillmen wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
--sorta T.S. Eliot
Do you hear that? Off in the distance? A song too beautiful to be real but somehow... familiar? The song twines over the water, through the cattails and the woods, into the window, eighth notes swirling all around. The creature in the lagoon is singing. He's not dead after all and who are we to resist him and the “centuries of passion pent up in his savage heart?"
Zahn's Star Wars; Or, Will This Death be Permanent?
A scrappy rebellion, a victory against an evil overlord, leftover spaceships in the dark outer reaches of the galaxy, warriors with extraordinary powers (nearly wiped out), now on the verge of a comeback. Laughs, thrills, moments of sadness, moments of sheer action. Exciting stuff! And oh yeah, it's a Star Wars tie-in novel.
We have saying in our bookstore: Frontlist may bring customers through the door, but it's the backlist that brings them back. Book lovers are completists. Bookstores that can fill the gaps in their ever-increasing collections quickly become favourite stops. There’s nothing quite like the satisfaction of putting it all together, of finally finally owning all the books by a much-loved author. Of course, neither is there any pleasure to equal the joy in the discovery of a new favourite. Like, say, one of the recent additions to my pantheon of must-haves: Tamara Lejeune.
Lejeune is not, strictly speaking, precisely ‘new’: her first Regency novel came out in late 2005. But since I didn’t discover her until this past March, she counts as new to me. I picked up her first book, Simply Scandalous, on a whim, and went back the next day for the second, Surrender To Sin. Her third book, Rules For Being A Mistress, arrived in May. And that, so far, is it.
And I really mean it: to date I have found no information at all about Tamara Lejeune. No author website; nothing on Google but listings; even Wikipedia failed me. This frustrates my inquisitive impulse, but it also intrigues me. No website? In this day and age? That could be due to a dearth of time, or know-how, or even money (especially since her books are sold at $5.99 and $6.99 - not exactly great for royalties). But all of that is conjecture. What remains is only the work, the books themselves.
I did find a few reviews on personal websites, but not many, and most of them contradicted each other. If nothing else, it was a valuable exercise: while we may read the same text, we’re not always reading the same book. Reviews for Simply Scandalous, ranged from “Wonderful!” to “Disappointing!”, and what one reviewer found hysterically funny another found dull. The story is about Juliet Wayborn, a wealthy gentlewoman, whose older brother Cary is beaten the night before a curricle race. His attackers claim to have been sent by his opponent Lord Swale. Infuriated, Juliet humiliates Swale in public. Swale is enraged in turn, and determines to best Juliet at her own game. Of course it is only to be expected that impassioned defiance turns into passionate attachment.
Lejeune does a number of things very well. For all that there were a few first novel stumbles, she has a good grasp of the historical aspects of the Regency period, particularly those that pertain to social dynamics. The book’s sense of humour was lively, occasionally obvious but usually subtle. But what really struck me was how she truly excelled at something I rarely see done well: the trope of the hero and heroine who dislike each other.
As a trope, it’s more of a cliche, and sadly abused. Sometimes it’s dropped in for plot purposes and feels noticeably fake. Foot stomping, hair tossing and barked orders do not equal dislike. In other cases the emnity seems all too real, which makes a successful conversion into love unbelievable, not to mention unwise. Geoffrey Swale and Juliet Wayborn avoid both these traps.
For one, neither character is entirely likeable to start. Swale, the son of duke, is utterly unused to correction in any form. His dress, deportment and erudition are all lacking. Juliet herself isn’t without fault: she can be thoughtless when it comes to others, including her own family. But despite - or possibly because of - their flaws, they appealed to me. And before long, they appeal to one another as well.
What Lejeune captures so well is people behaving badly. Sometimes for good reason, though often not, and usually in the presence of someone the perpetrators would prefer to impress. We’ve all been there. We’ve all had people in our lives who make us act like fools, or children. Or worse, like teenagers: sullen, rude and disobliging. And sometimes the knowlege that we’ve acted badly is enought to make us act worse. Then hopefully, eventually, better.
Because change is the point, and Juliet and Geoffrey illustrate it perfectly. Aggravation becomes attraction. Attraction gains depth as it surmounts and changes behavior, and becomes love. It’s hard to do properly, but Tamara Lejeune manages the task with ease. Next up, a website!
That's one of the best recommendations I've seen in a while. I love imperfect characters, and decent characters who behave badly, and best of all decent characters who behave badly without an outlandish excuse like simultaneous plague, maiming, bankruptcy, and torture. Too many novels feature characters whose flaws are really assets (e.g. she's so beautiful he can't trust her), or characters who are perfect except for occasional, inexplicable foot-stomping and pouting.
That's one of the best recommendations I've seen in a while. I love imperfect characters, and decent characters who behave badly, and best of all decent characters who behave badly without an outlandish excuse like simultaneous plague, maiming, bankruptcy, and torture. Too many novels feature characters whose flaws are really assets (e.g. she's so beautiful he can't trust her), or characters who are perfect except for occasional, inexplicable foot-stomping and pouting.
A wrestler-fairy? A nerd-werewolf? A caveman-pirate? All these and more in Creebobby's second Archetype Times Table.
~
Wong Fei-Hung's been on my mind lately. Luckily, Kung Fu Cinema has a nice video (scroll down) of Wong Fei-Hung in the movies from Kwan Tak-Hing to Gordon Liu, Jet Li as well as Jackie Chan and actress Angie Tsang Tze-Man's portrayals of young Wong Fei-Hung. There's also a detailed companion article tracing the historical and fictional Wong Fei-Hung through newspaper pulps, radio, tv and film.
~
"It's common practice for one of those guys, in a single day, to
chainsaw his way out of the belly of a giant worm, take a detour
through a zombie shantytown, euthanise his long-lost wife, and spend
hours in a sewer trawling through blood and waste, with monsters
leaping up at his face and depositing their brain matter on his boots."
Hit Self-Destruct again, on what life's like for videogame heroes.
In the run-up to, and wake of, the release of Watchmen, it has become common currency to say that adapting Zach Snyder, et al undertook a massive challenge in adapting Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ complex, sprawling medium- and genre-defining work for the screen.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
A scrappy rebellion, a victory against an evil overlord, leftover spaceships in the dark outer reaches of the galaxy, warriors with extraordinary powers (nearly wiped out), now on the verge of a comeback. Laughs, thrills, moments of sadness, moments of sheer action. Exciting stuff! And oh yeah, it's a Star Wars tie-in novel.
We have saying in our bookstore: Frontlist may bring customers through the door, but it's the backlist that brings them back. Book lovers are completists. Bookstores that can fill the gaps in their ever-increasing collections quickly become favourite stops. There’s nothing quite like the satisfaction of putting it all together, of finally finally owning all the books by a much-loved author. Of course, neither is there any pleasure to equal the joy in the discovery of a new favourite. Like, say, one of the recent additions to my pantheon of must-haves: Tamara Lejeune.
I did find a few reviews on personal websites, but not many, and most of them contradicted each other. If nothing else, it was a valuable exercise: while we may read the same text, we’re not always reading the same book. Reviews for Simply Scandalous, ranged from “Wonderful!” to “Disappointing!”, and what one reviewer found hysterically funny another found dull. The story is about Juliet Wayborn, a wealthy gentlewoman, whose older brother Cary is beaten the night before a curricle race. His attackers claim to have been sent by his opponent Lord Swale. Infuriated, Juliet humiliates Swale in public. Swale is enraged in turn, and determines to best Juliet at her own game. Of course it is only to be expected that impassioned defiance turns into passionate attachment.