Lest anyone think I read this just to latch on to the hipsterish aspects of the "Rust Belt Chic" trend, know that I was born in Cleveland a mere fourLest anyone think I read this just to latch on to the hipsterish aspects of the "Rust Belt Chic" trend, know that I was born in Cleveland a mere four years after the Cuyahoga River burned, and I grew up through most of the events in the "Burn On, Big River" chapter of the book. Take McClelland's writing on Dennis Kucinich's various rises and falls, for instance. No matter how much prominence he gained after reinventing himself as a national politician, and regardless of how many of his views I might share, I'll always know him as "Dennis the Menace" because in the late 70s/early 80s, even a six year old like me could read a political cartoon in THE PLAIN DEALER and glean from how the grown-ups talked that that's what everyone thought of him. We were reading USA TODAY in grade school when the whole the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame thing came up. And I had one of my first underage drinks just as the Flats was transitioning from a hotspot to a hive of scum and villainy. (I'd left before it finally turned into a "Scooby Doo ghost town".)
All that to say that if McClelland, a native of Lansing, MI, did enough of his homework to get those sorts of Cleveland details right then it seemed likely to me that his notes about life in post auto industry Youngstown, Detroit, Flint, Lansing, etc. also has a genuine ring of truth. In fact, reading about the stories of these other places and some of the people in them felt like a rediscovery of sorts. I can imagine this is what it feels like for someone who has some weird personality quirk that never made sense to anyone until some previously hidden fact of biological or social history was discovered and gave you the context. I'd never heard the terms "bathtub Madonna" or "Mary on the half shell" before reading this book, and never knew how prevelant they were in other places similar to Cleveland, and yet I'd grown up seeing these little homemade grotto shrines to the Virgin Mary in every neighborhood I ever rode through inside Cleveland.
The book succeeds in giving me what feels like a thorough background about subjects I already knew, or at least in filling in the gaps about things I witnessed from a short distance. I was familiar with the socioeconomic patterns and movements of White Flight and gentrification, but this book clarifies the mechanics of it, particularly with respect to the decrepit housing and infrastructure it left behind (neither of which was really all that great to begin with). McClelland also lists a few examples of what happens when movements born of social justice to serve people crash and burn when they start becoming unsustainable, which many times has to do with internal personalities and politics, as much as whatever the latest company outsourcing or international trade plan is.
I was startled to learn exactly how much politicians in other regions of the country are looking over the carcass of the Rust Belt and still see a couple of things worth stripping even now, like Great Lakes water. A part of me cheered when I read about the political pushback these efforts get; Michigan representatives basically saying, "You wanted to go live in that sand box [i.e places like Georgia, Nevada, Arizona, etc. which have lured people and jobs from Michigan]. Don't come crying to us when you can't find anything to drink."
The one nit I have is that McClelland does a little too good of a job integrating various regional idioms of, to put it mildly, an insensitive stripe. It's one thing to quote, or report a quote from, various sources and stories, like one in which a Daley political operative tells Chicago Latino voters, "We want you guys to be our minority, because we're already sick of that other minority [emphasis mine]." But it's another to uncritically mix them into your own narrative. The author writes, "[Latinos in South Chicago] had their own church -- Our Lady of Guadalupe -- and they were tolerated by Stosh and Chester [i.e. code for "men of eastern European descent"] at the ironworkers' tavern, who figured it was them or the colored [i.e. the other minority]." And while I'm fairly certain McClelland himself doesn't espouse these beliefs, that contention might be a tougher sell for people to whom I might recommend this book. I theorize (but could be wrong) that I'll have to deal with this in the next book in my Rust Belt reading queue, Ben Hamper's Rivethead: Tales from the Assembly Line.
But then, personally, I'm a little (too?) used to it. After all, I grew up around that; hell I'm a Filipino-American who grew up in it. And if nothing else, this book goes a long way to telling me why....more
I first sought out Barry's comics years ago because Filipina! Okay, part-Filipina but enough to hook me with a panel of an elderly woman, sitting on aI first sought out Barry's comics years ago because Filipina! Okay, part-Filipina but enough to hook me with a panel of an elderly woman, sitting on a couch with one elbow resting on her raised knee, declaring "Ay, nako!" But Syllabus was my first encounter with one of Barry's artistic how-to books. It's a compilation of syllabi, courses, and exercises she's used in the various classes she teaches at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
Other artistic how-to books emphasize the importance of play, but this is the first one I've read that has shown me exactly how to leverage that idea. Barry's thesis is that when we were drawing or writing as children, the last thing on our minds was whether or not we were creating works of art; at least in my case, she's right. And thus, I get something extremely valuable from this book: a method for RE-training myself to suspend any judgement at all about writing as I'm writing. (That stuff is for editing and polishing later.)
Syllabus gets 5 stars because after a mere two weeks, the exercises within--more or less in practice; definitely in principle--have already yielded dividends as far as filling some of the gaps in my writing practice that I've been struggling with since the day I started. I can feel the techniques reshaping my artistic process the way I used to feel muscles being shaped while working out (another experience I haven't had in awhile), and it feels great!...more
The book almost defies your expectations of a prequel for The Incal. Still, you get the origins of pathetic Class "R" detective John DiFool, you see tThe book almost defies your expectations of a prequel for The Incal. Still, you get the origins of pathetic Class "R" detective John DiFool, you see the byzantine and surreal chain of events that push him directly to his role in that story, and you see in the last chapter--which I personally could've done without--wherein Jodo feels the need to show every other character in The Incal and how they're positioned to take up their roles in that book. But that doesn't take away from how brilliantly the Jodoverse was fleshed out by Zoran Janjetov in true Moebius-like fashion. And while this story is a significantly lighter on spiritual concepts than The Incal, Jodo does a great job highlighting the existential and practical suffering of a world which lacks the spiritual....more
The writing in this collection of flash pieces captured me. I got so caught up in the moment by the oft-times brutal economy of language, of the imageThe writing in this collection of flash pieces captured me. I got so caught up in the moment by the oft-times brutal economy of language, of the images of despair, ferocity, hope, and survival that I was pretty breathless by the time I was done with it. So much so that when I try to sit down and wrote about the collection in aggregate, I feel like I somehow missed the forest for the trees and so I'd reopen the book, go back over a few pieces, only to find myself breathless again. I've done this three or four times now, so here--5 out of 5 already!...more
Pure impulse buy at my local comics shop. I've been on a Jodorowsky kick lately (I'm working my way through his films and have already read The IncalPure impulse buy at my local comics shop. I've been on a Jodorowsky kick lately (I'm working my way through his films and have already read The Incal and some of The Metabarons) so this shouldn't surprise anyone.
The first graphic novel collaboration between Jodo and Mœbius gives us twenty-four full page illustrations with minimal dialogue, as part of Jodo's attempt to do something unconventional while trying to subvert commercial constraints. (He says as much in his introduction to this 2013 edition.) While the story is short enough to warrant grumblings about the book being overpriced, it has everything you'd expect from any Jodorowsky/Mœbius tale in Métal Hurlant magazine: surrealistic sci-fi illustrated by a master. On top of that... again, we're talking about full page Mœbius here, so while the book could've (should've?) been cheaper, I was happy to pay what I paid....more
There's no way a reader and writer like me was going to pass up a story collection from someone whose work appears in The New Yorker, The Antioch ReviThere's no way a reader and writer like me was going to pass up a story collection from someone whose work appears in The New Yorker, The Antioch Review, decomP, Monkeybicycle, PANK, et al., and whose book is blurbed by Ray Bradbury and Gary K. Wolfe!
I get the accusations about the book being "gimmicky". I get that some readers require characters to have things like names other than The Man, The Woman, or The Octopus. I get that the structure of these stories can seem repetitive. While the language, characterization, and descriptions of setting are stripped-down, it's done so strategically. There's still enough sense of character and place for relatively whole stories. Stories that are as instructive as any fable, complete with a moral--but which are as subject to interpretation as any myth.
When a story ends, so endeth the lesson. And while the lessons might not be profound necessarily, I think that's the point. The lessons are truths we (should) all know. What's profound is how Loory illustrates these truths with a mix of the real and unreal. Loory deftly places his character and the reader in all sorts of fantastic worlds. And what they find there is what we find here: the Kabat-Zinn truism of, "Wherever you go, there you are."
I know some writers and critics in speculative fiction for whom this would absolutely stick in their craw. And some of those folks intersect with those I know who don't much enjoy short stories, let alone short-short fiction. They tend not to be people I drink with, anyway....more
I'll be honest, I finally got around to reading this classic only after having seen Frank Pavich's documentary Jodorowsky's Dune. I'd heard of Jodo anI'll be honest, I finally got around to reading this classic only after having seen Frank Pavich's documentary Jodorowsky's Dune. I'd heard of Jodo and his El Topo, and you can't be any kind of comics fan without having at least heard the name Mœbius. Still, I came late to this particular party.
It's absolutely true what people have said--you can literally pick out the bits that have been used in any number of sci-fi films over the past 30 years. I'd never read The Incal, but every one of Mœbius's meticulously drawn panels seemed familiar. Jodo's writing didn't disappoint either--it's a good example of a writer weaving his beliefs into a story while avoiding, IMO, turning the work into a tract....more