Elijah David's Blog, page 5
March 26, 2018
Monday Musings: The Phantom of the Opera and Love Never Dies
As I mentioned in last week's post on The Hunchback of Notre Dame, I've been listening through some of my favorite musicals again lately, along with favorite musicals suggested to me by others. Two of those musicals are inspired in whole or in part by Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera: Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera and his maybe-sequel (he can't seem to make up his mind about that) Love Never Dies. I want to look at what's good (and not so good) in these musicals.
The Phantom of the Opera
Phantom is one of those musicals that everybody seems to know about. At the very least, they've probably heard one of the show's more popular songs like "Music of the Night" or the title number. If you're unfamiliar with the story, it's the tale of an up-and-coming opera singer named Christine Daaé and her lover, a young nobleman named Raoul, as they are swept into the machinations of the mysterious Phantom of the Opera. The Phantom has long been a figure of legend at the Paris Opera, and has his own private box from which he may view all the shows. He also holds highly opinionated views on the way the opera house should be run, including which parts should be offered to which singers.
After a long time apart, Christine and Raoul are reunited and find their once companionable friendship blossoming into something more. Unfortunately, Christine's musical tutor (her "angel of music" as her father once termed it) does not appreciate Raoul's intrusion into Christine's life. The angel reveals himself to be the Phantom, and Christine is torn between her devotion to her music (and thus, to the Phantom who has secured her a place as the rising star of the opera) and her love for Raoul. As the Phantom's true personality makes itself known, Christine grows ever more fearful of the Phantom and what he might do to keep her as his own.
One thing that has puzzled me is the romanticizing of the Phantom in popular culture. Though the novel presents the Phantom as a pitiable but deranged genius, the popular impression of the musical's version seems to be more sympathetic. Yet as I've listened through the soundtrack again, I find that the musical has actually preserved the obsessive (and possessive) aspects of the Phantom's personality. He is brilliant, but as Christine says in the final scenes of the play, it is in his soul, rather than his disfigured face, that the true deformity lies.
The songs of Phantom range from the haunting and lasting "The Phantom of the Opera" and "Music of the Night" to the romantic "All I Ask of You" to the dazzling "Masquerade." There are scenes and songs which lean heavily on the operatic setting of the musical such as "Prima Donna," but many of the songs favor a rock and pop style that meshes surprisingly well with Christine's necessarily operatic voice. "All I Ask of You" is my personal favorite because of its genuine emotion between Raoul and Christine (in contrast to the Phantom's seductive lyrics in "Music of the Night").
Love Never Dies
More than 20 years after the premiere of Phantom, a second show featuring many of the same characters appeared. Love Never Dies was based partially on a novel that itself was a sequel to Phantom, but I can't really view it as a sequel because although many of the characters' names are the same very few of them act consistently with who they were in Phantom (either play or novel).
Supposedly taking place 10 years after Phantom (the dates are actually further apart, but who's counting?), Love Never Dies views Christine as an international success who's a bit down on her luck. Her husband, Raoul, has gambled away their fortune, and she's now forced to take a job at an American amusement park and entertainment center run by the mysterious Mr. Y (if it isn't already obvious, he's the Phantom). Madame Giry and her daughter Meg (supporting characters from Phantom and friends of Christine's and the Phantom's) have been hiding and helping the Phantom as he works to rebuild his life after the events of the previous play. Christine has a son (whose paternity is, shall we say, uncertain) named Gustave, who is a delight to her but a burden to Raoul. (I did warn you that the characters weren't themselves.)
If you can divorce yourself from the idea that these are the same Raoul, Christine, Meg, and Erik/Phantom from before, Love Never Dies is actually a beautiful musical with compelling characters. The story in itself is fraught with tension. Will Christine stay with Raoul or choose the Phantom? Is Gustave really Raoul's son or the Phantom's? Will Meg's obsession with the Phantom ever garner his attention, or is his own obsession with Christine too strong?
As before, the Phantom's main song about Christine ("Till I Hear You Sing") seems romantic, but the fact that he's still pining away after a woman who's now married kind of kills some of that, especially when you consider the possessive nature of his "love" for Christine. (However, taking it apart from the previous show, it's a beautiful look at the longing for lost love many of us have experienced.) Other standout songs include the rock theme "Beauty Underneath" and the dueling duet between the Phantom and Raoul, "Devil Take the Hindmost." The Phantom and Christine also get a lovely song "Beneath a Moonless Sky."
If you do listen to the soundtrack for Love Never Dies, try to get the concept recording, as it's different from the versions later produced, keeping the original songs and order. Keep a synopsis handy, though, as the finale sort of drops off. (There is action on stage, but it's silent; I wish they'd inserted a reprise of "Beauty Underneath" since that would have tied in perfectly with the onstage action.)
Are you familiar with either of the musicals in today's post? What do you think of them? DO you have favorite songs? Let me know in the comments!
The Phantom of the Opera
Phantom is one of those musicals that everybody seems to know about. At the very least, they've probably heard one of the show's more popular songs like "Music of the Night" or the title number. If you're unfamiliar with the story, it's the tale of an up-and-coming opera singer named Christine Daaé and her lover, a young nobleman named Raoul, as they are swept into the machinations of the mysterious Phantom of the Opera. The Phantom has long been a figure of legend at the Paris Opera, and has his own private box from which he may view all the shows. He also holds highly opinionated views on the way the opera house should be run, including which parts should be offered to which singers.
After a long time apart, Christine and Raoul are reunited and find their once companionable friendship blossoming into something more. Unfortunately, Christine's musical tutor (her "angel of music" as her father once termed it) does not appreciate Raoul's intrusion into Christine's life. The angel reveals himself to be the Phantom, and Christine is torn between her devotion to her music (and thus, to the Phantom who has secured her a place as the rising star of the opera) and her love for Raoul. As the Phantom's true personality makes itself known, Christine grows ever more fearful of the Phantom and what he might do to keep her as his own.
One thing that has puzzled me is the romanticizing of the Phantom in popular culture. Though the novel presents the Phantom as a pitiable but deranged genius, the popular impression of the musical's version seems to be more sympathetic. Yet as I've listened through the soundtrack again, I find that the musical has actually preserved the obsessive (and possessive) aspects of the Phantom's personality. He is brilliant, but as Christine says in the final scenes of the play, it is in his soul, rather than his disfigured face, that the true deformity lies.
The songs of Phantom range from the haunting and lasting "The Phantom of the Opera" and "Music of the Night" to the romantic "All I Ask of You" to the dazzling "Masquerade." There are scenes and songs which lean heavily on the operatic setting of the musical such as "Prima Donna," but many of the songs favor a rock and pop style that meshes surprisingly well with Christine's necessarily operatic voice. "All I Ask of You" is my personal favorite because of its genuine emotion between Raoul and Christine (in contrast to the Phantom's seductive lyrics in "Music of the Night").
Love Never Dies
More than 20 years after the premiere of Phantom, a second show featuring many of the same characters appeared. Love Never Dies was based partially on a novel that itself was a sequel to Phantom, but I can't really view it as a sequel because although many of the characters' names are the same very few of them act consistently with who they were in Phantom (either play or novel).
Supposedly taking place 10 years after Phantom (the dates are actually further apart, but who's counting?), Love Never Dies views Christine as an international success who's a bit down on her luck. Her husband, Raoul, has gambled away their fortune, and she's now forced to take a job at an American amusement park and entertainment center run by the mysterious Mr. Y (if it isn't already obvious, he's the Phantom). Madame Giry and her daughter Meg (supporting characters from Phantom and friends of Christine's and the Phantom's) have been hiding and helping the Phantom as he works to rebuild his life after the events of the previous play. Christine has a son (whose paternity is, shall we say, uncertain) named Gustave, who is a delight to her but a burden to Raoul. (I did warn you that the characters weren't themselves.)
If you can divorce yourself from the idea that these are the same Raoul, Christine, Meg, and Erik/Phantom from before, Love Never Dies is actually a beautiful musical with compelling characters. The story in itself is fraught with tension. Will Christine stay with Raoul or choose the Phantom? Is Gustave really Raoul's son or the Phantom's? Will Meg's obsession with the Phantom ever garner his attention, or is his own obsession with Christine too strong?
As before, the Phantom's main song about Christine ("Till I Hear You Sing") seems romantic, but the fact that he's still pining away after a woman who's now married kind of kills some of that, especially when you consider the possessive nature of his "love" for Christine. (However, taking it apart from the previous show, it's a beautiful look at the longing for lost love many of us have experienced.) Other standout songs include the rock theme "Beauty Underneath" and the dueling duet between the Phantom and Raoul, "Devil Take the Hindmost." The Phantom and Christine also get a lovely song "Beneath a Moonless Sky."
If you do listen to the soundtrack for Love Never Dies, try to get the concept recording, as it's different from the versions later produced, keeping the original songs and order. Keep a synopsis handy, though, as the finale sort of drops off. (There is action on stage, but it's silent; I wish they'd inserted a reprise of "Beauty Underneath" since that would have tied in perfectly with the onstage action.)
Are you familiar with either of the musicals in today's post? What do you think of them? DO you have favorite songs? Let me know in the comments!
March 22, 2018
ThrowBook Thursday: The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Here's a little background for today's post. I recently started listening to the soundtrack from The Greatest Showman (despite not having seen the film) and the music rekindled an old, oft-buried desire of mine: to write a musical. By way of research, I started looking into my favorite musicals (again) as well as those of my friends who were quick to suggest shows they loved. One of those musicals was the stage version of Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Despite trying to listen to other musicals as well, I've been in a bit of a loop listening to this production in the last few weeks. Between this and listening to The Phantom of the Opera and Love Never Dies, I'm feeling a serious Beauty and the Beast reading/rereading marathon building. But that's beside the point.
I want to talk about why I loved reading Hunchback and why I love the musical.
The Novel
I will admit that for years I was more familiar with Disney's adaptation than with Victor Hugo's story (though the Wishbone episode devoted to the book helped). Even now, the music from the movie is too strongly tied to the story for me to completely put it aside. But the novel is worth reading, especially if the doorstop size of Les Miserables scares you (it took me 2 years to finish, so I don't blame you if it intimidates you). Hugo's penchant for historical and social commentary gets to shine here as well, though his cast is less developed and nuanced than in Les Mis.
The most interesting difference between the novel and the Disney film (for me) was the characterization of Claude Frollo. (I specify Claude because, if you aren't familiar with the book, he has a younger brother Jehan who comes into the story at a few key points.) Frollo is not presented as an out and out villain. He is still an antagonist and drives much of the conflict, but Hugo shows us the reasons for his antagonism, and they extend well beyond the simple bigotry of Disney's chilling characterization. Much of his mistreatment of Quasimodo stems from his disappointment in his brother Jehan (who does not share Claude's studious nature) and in the apparent loss of Quasimodo's ability to be a scholar when his task as bellringer results in his going deaf.
The other main characters (Esmeralda and Phoebus) differ from their usual presentations as well. Phoebus is entirely unsympathetic (most of the versions I've seen try to make him at least a moderately good love interest for Esmeralda), ultimately choosing to allow Esmeralda to die for his murder (yeah, he survived; nobody cared) rather than speak up and save her. (This is after he wooed her purely to get her in bed. A real pillar of society, that Phoebus. /sarcasm) Honestly, I prefer Disney's version as a person, though Hugo's characterization definitely heightens the tragedy of the book.
Esmeralda is still the central object of the three male main characters, but she's less a paragon of kindness and hope in the novel than she is someone simply trying to survive each day. She's also sixteen, much younger than most adaptations cast her. Her kindness to Quasimodo in giving him water when he's publicly punished (for kidnapping her on Frollo's orders) only extends that far; she finds his touch disgusting. Later in the novel, she shows a harsh lack of charity when she is confronted by a hermitess (who the author reveals to be her birth mother).
Speaking of Esmeralda's birth mother, there is a subplot or sorts in the novel surrounding Quasimodo's and Esmeralda's origins. Unlike the Disney prologue, Hugo's story reveals that Quasimodo's Romani parents stole Esmeralda from her cradle, leaving Quasimodo behind in exchange (changelings, anyone?). Esmeralda's mother, heartbroken by the loss of her daughter and disgusted by the substitute child, further abandons Quasimodo at Notre Dame. It's a convergence of personal histories that in the hands of someone like Dickens would be resolved with realization and reunion for the characters involved; Hugo doesn't do that. Esmeralda and Quasimodo die without knowing their shared history, and Esmeralda's mother only understands she's found her lost daughter as she loses her again. (Did I mention it's a tragic book?)
Still, for all the book's darker take on humanity, it's worth the read for the skill with which Hugo looks at human nature.
The Musical
When I heard that Disney's Hunchback was getting the stage musical treatment, I was ecstatic because Disney's theatrical productions tend to be skillful and memorable. Hunchback is no exception (though sadly it didn't make it to Broadway; still, there's a cast recording). The musical adapts the film while incorporating more elements and themes from the book, and the new songs add some of the best moments in the musical.
First, let me talk about some of the differences between the musical and the film. First, the prologue is a weird blend of the book and the movie. Jehan (Frollo's brother from the novel) is included, though it's only to demonstrate his differences from Frollo and to father Quasimodo. When he dies, Jehan leaves Quasimodo in Frollo's care. I like this version of the backstory for Frollo and Quasi because it makes his responsibility to Quasi much greater (and thus, the betrayal of that responsibility all the greater). It also ties Quasi to Jehan's death (in the book, Quasi kills Jehan when he tries to infiltrate the cathedral where Esmeralda is hiding), which is a nice thematic touch. Phoebus and Esmeralda keep much of their characterization from the film, though Frollo's character is a blend of film and novel. After the prologue, the plot continues along the same lines as the film, with the main exception being the ending, which matches the novel's for the most part. (Phoebus lives, but here he mourns Esmeralda rather than betraying her; Frollo and Esmeralda die, and Quasi dies of brokenheartedness holding her body.)
The new songs for the musical include a couple of introductory songs for Phoebus and Esmeralda ("Rest and Recreation" and "The Rhythm of the Tambourine") which are melded into the "Topsy Turvy" sequence from the film. Then there's "Top of the World," a song Esmeralda sings when she visits Quasi at the top of the cathedral. "Esmeralda" serves as an Act I finale, "In a Place of Miracles" is a love song for Esmeralda and Phoebus that includes a sad reprise of Quasi's "Heaven's Light," and "Made of Stone" is Quasi's dark night of the soul. In addition, "The Bells of Notre Dame" gets multiple reprises throughout the show, often carrying plot information, and "Someday" (the credits song from the film) is inserted as a duet between Esmeralda and Phoebus before her public execution.
A few songs from the production are left out of the cast recording, including a thematic Frollo song "Sanctuary" (that immediately precedes "Out There") and its late reprise (which adapts a scene from the novel in which Frollo offers to save Esmeralda if she'll be his; needless to say, she refuses). There are also reprises of "Esmeralda" and "Rest and Recreation" from the second act that are left behind. Of these, only "Sanctuary" and its late reprise are significant losses to the album; the initial version introduces Frollo's vendetta against the Romani (also mentioned in early songs) and has Quasi telling Frollo he is "very strong" -- a line that returns in the finale. Without the introduction of this line early on, its use in the finale feels like a payoff that was never set up.
I'm already running long, so I'll say two more quick things. First, the musical replaces the movie's gargoyles with a chorus of saints whose statues decorate the church. They serve as Quasi's conscience and inner thoughts, and often sing in his place when he's with other people. It's a brilliant conceit that works to great effect, especially in "Made of Stone," where one line ("We just thought you were made of something stronger.") is used for a greater emotional bang than in the movie. Second, the lyrical brilliance of Stephen Schwartz is evident in his expansions here. One notable example of this is the use of Notre Dame in its full religious sense (it's French for "Our Lady" and a reference to the Virgin Mary, something that gets lost in the film), especially in the opening number where the phrases "by the grace of Notre Dame" and "be thanks to Notre Dame" expand the audience's understanding of the name beyond the cathedral.
If you want to give the soundtrack for the musical a listen, you can check it out below:
You can also watch the full show here:
Do you enjoy the story of Hunchback? What do you think of the musical? Let me know in the comments!
I want to talk about why I loved reading Hunchback and why I love the musical.
The Novel
I will admit that for years I was more familiar with Disney's adaptation than with Victor Hugo's story (though the Wishbone episode devoted to the book helped). Even now, the music from the movie is too strongly tied to the story for me to completely put it aside. But the novel is worth reading, especially if the doorstop size of Les Miserables scares you (it took me 2 years to finish, so I don't blame you if it intimidates you). Hugo's penchant for historical and social commentary gets to shine here as well, though his cast is less developed and nuanced than in Les Mis.
The most interesting difference between the novel and the Disney film (for me) was the characterization of Claude Frollo. (I specify Claude because, if you aren't familiar with the book, he has a younger brother Jehan who comes into the story at a few key points.) Frollo is not presented as an out and out villain. He is still an antagonist and drives much of the conflict, but Hugo shows us the reasons for his antagonism, and they extend well beyond the simple bigotry of Disney's chilling characterization. Much of his mistreatment of Quasimodo stems from his disappointment in his brother Jehan (who does not share Claude's studious nature) and in the apparent loss of Quasimodo's ability to be a scholar when his task as bellringer results in his going deaf.
The other main characters (Esmeralda and Phoebus) differ from their usual presentations as well. Phoebus is entirely unsympathetic (most of the versions I've seen try to make him at least a moderately good love interest for Esmeralda), ultimately choosing to allow Esmeralda to die for his murder (yeah, he survived; nobody cared) rather than speak up and save her. (This is after he wooed her purely to get her in bed. A real pillar of society, that Phoebus. /sarcasm) Honestly, I prefer Disney's version as a person, though Hugo's characterization definitely heightens the tragedy of the book.
Esmeralda is still the central object of the three male main characters, but she's less a paragon of kindness and hope in the novel than she is someone simply trying to survive each day. She's also sixteen, much younger than most adaptations cast her. Her kindness to Quasimodo in giving him water when he's publicly punished (for kidnapping her on Frollo's orders) only extends that far; she finds his touch disgusting. Later in the novel, she shows a harsh lack of charity when she is confronted by a hermitess (who the author reveals to be her birth mother).
Speaking of Esmeralda's birth mother, there is a subplot or sorts in the novel surrounding Quasimodo's and Esmeralda's origins. Unlike the Disney prologue, Hugo's story reveals that Quasimodo's Romani parents stole Esmeralda from her cradle, leaving Quasimodo behind in exchange (changelings, anyone?). Esmeralda's mother, heartbroken by the loss of her daughter and disgusted by the substitute child, further abandons Quasimodo at Notre Dame. It's a convergence of personal histories that in the hands of someone like Dickens would be resolved with realization and reunion for the characters involved; Hugo doesn't do that. Esmeralda and Quasimodo die without knowing their shared history, and Esmeralda's mother only understands she's found her lost daughter as she loses her again. (Did I mention it's a tragic book?)
Still, for all the book's darker take on humanity, it's worth the read for the skill with which Hugo looks at human nature.
The Musical
When I heard that Disney's Hunchback was getting the stage musical treatment, I was ecstatic because Disney's theatrical productions tend to be skillful and memorable. Hunchback is no exception (though sadly it didn't make it to Broadway; still, there's a cast recording). The musical adapts the film while incorporating more elements and themes from the book, and the new songs add some of the best moments in the musical.
First, let me talk about some of the differences between the musical and the film. First, the prologue is a weird blend of the book and the movie. Jehan (Frollo's brother from the novel) is included, though it's only to demonstrate his differences from Frollo and to father Quasimodo. When he dies, Jehan leaves Quasimodo in Frollo's care. I like this version of the backstory for Frollo and Quasi because it makes his responsibility to Quasi much greater (and thus, the betrayal of that responsibility all the greater). It also ties Quasi to Jehan's death (in the book, Quasi kills Jehan when he tries to infiltrate the cathedral where Esmeralda is hiding), which is a nice thematic touch. Phoebus and Esmeralda keep much of their characterization from the film, though Frollo's character is a blend of film and novel. After the prologue, the plot continues along the same lines as the film, with the main exception being the ending, which matches the novel's for the most part. (Phoebus lives, but here he mourns Esmeralda rather than betraying her; Frollo and Esmeralda die, and Quasi dies of brokenheartedness holding her body.)
The new songs for the musical include a couple of introductory songs for Phoebus and Esmeralda ("Rest and Recreation" and "The Rhythm of the Tambourine") which are melded into the "Topsy Turvy" sequence from the film. Then there's "Top of the World," a song Esmeralda sings when she visits Quasi at the top of the cathedral. "Esmeralda" serves as an Act I finale, "In a Place of Miracles" is a love song for Esmeralda and Phoebus that includes a sad reprise of Quasi's "Heaven's Light," and "Made of Stone" is Quasi's dark night of the soul. In addition, "The Bells of Notre Dame" gets multiple reprises throughout the show, often carrying plot information, and "Someday" (the credits song from the film) is inserted as a duet between Esmeralda and Phoebus before her public execution.
A few songs from the production are left out of the cast recording, including a thematic Frollo song "Sanctuary" (that immediately precedes "Out There") and its late reprise (which adapts a scene from the novel in which Frollo offers to save Esmeralda if she'll be his; needless to say, she refuses). There are also reprises of "Esmeralda" and "Rest and Recreation" from the second act that are left behind. Of these, only "Sanctuary" and its late reprise are significant losses to the album; the initial version introduces Frollo's vendetta against the Romani (also mentioned in early songs) and has Quasi telling Frollo he is "very strong" -- a line that returns in the finale. Without the introduction of this line early on, its use in the finale feels like a payoff that was never set up.
I'm already running long, so I'll say two more quick things. First, the musical replaces the movie's gargoyles with a chorus of saints whose statues decorate the church. They serve as Quasi's conscience and inner thoughts, and often sing in his place when he's with other people. It's a brilliant conceit that works to great effect, especially in "Made of Stone," where one line ("We just thought you were made of something stronger.") is used for a greater emotional bang than in the movie. Second, the lyrical brilliance of Stephen Schwartz is evident in his expansions here. One notable example of this is the use of Notre Dame in its full religious sense (it's French for "Our Lady" and a reference to the Virgin Mary, something that gets lost in the film), especially in the opening number where the phrases "by the grace of Notre Dame" and "be thanks to Notre Dame" expand the audience's understanding of the name beyond the cathedral.
If you want to give the soundtrack for the musical a listen, you can check it out below:
You can also watch the full show here:
Do you enjoy the story of Hunchback? What do you think of the musical? Let me know in the comments!
March 19, 2018
Monday Musings: Review Roundup: Lockwood and Hellboy
I've got a couple more book reviews for you today: Hellboy Vol. 5: The Conqueror Worm and Lockwood and Co.: The Whispering Skull.
Hellboy Vol. 5: The Conqueror Worm
After two volumes of short stories and vignettes, Mignola returns to the larger story of Hellboy's personal journey. Hellboy and Roger (the homunculus from Vol. 2) are sent to investigate the astonishing results of a WWII Nazi experiment: a spacecraft launched in 1939 is returning to its place of origin. During their adventure, they confront a still-living Nazi scientist, Mr. Head-in-a-Jar himself, Herman von Klempt. Von Klempt intends to finish the experiment begun by his compatriots 60 years previous: to bring one of the ancient evil beings called the Ogdru Hem into this plane.
The story exhibits Mignola's pulpy action-adventure style to great effect and weaves in Hellboy's moral character in new ways. Departing from the previous emphasis on his choice not to embrace his "destiny" of bringing about the end of the world, this volume brings Hellboy's choices closer to home with the choice between killing a team member to stop the bad guys or find a better way.
I'm glad to get more of the main story again; while some of the celebrity introducers for the series have said the shorts are Mignola's best work, I'm too much of a long-form story lover to agree. If you've made it this far with the series, it's worth keeping on.
Lockwood and Co.: The Whispering Skull
After enjoying the first Lockwood and Co., I wanted to get on with the series. The first book ended with a revelation that served as a tease for the second book: the titular whispering skull. The second book begins with a couple of ongoing situations: the skull hasn't spoken since the end of book 1 and Lockwood and Co. are doing well as an agency. After a slightly bungled commission, Lockwood and Co. enter a wager with their nemeses: Quill Kipps and his junior agents. Whoever succeeds in solving the next case they're both on will get the satisfaction of the other's public apology in the paper.
Well, of course the very next case Lockwood and Co. take lands them working with Kipps and co. In their race to win, our heroes end up racing against time and murderous artifact collectors to save the city (and their reputations).
This book had everything I loved about the first: humor, worldbuilding, characterization, and plotting. The mystery was less surface-level this time, and the competition with Kipps added some extra tension to the story. I still got closer to the solution much sooner than narrator Lucy, but she's meant to be the Watson to Lockwood's Sherlock. (Which is not to say she's unintelligent; she's just not as quick at certain aspects of investigation as he is.) The characterization of Kipps and his followers was deeper this time around, appropriate for their elevated importance. There were several points in the story where I was frustrated with Lucy's opinions about other characters and the plot later vindicated me on at least two of them. As with the previous book, there are elements introduced here which are meant to carry on into the next book, most notably the cliffhanger of the last page. It's not a tease. It's a cliffhanger. Book 3 can't get here fast enough.
Hellboy Vol. 5: The Conqueror Worm
After two volumes of short stories and vignettes, Mignola returns to the larger story of Hellboy's personal journey. Hellboy and Roger (the homunculus from Vol. 2) are sent to investigate the astonishing results of a WWII Nazi experiment: a spacecraft launched in 1939 is returning to its place of origin. During their adventure, they confront a still-living Nazi scientist, Mr. Head-in-a-Jar himself, Herman von Klempt. Von Klempt intends to finish the experiment begun by his compatriots 60 years previous: to bring one of the ancient evil beings called the Ogdru Hem into this plane.
The story exhibits Mignola's pulpy action-adventure style to great effect and weaves in Hellboy's moral character in new ways. Departing from the previous emphasis on his choice not to embrace his "destiny" of bringing about the end of the world, this volume brings Hellboy's choices closer to home with the choice between killing a team member to stop the bad guys or find a better way.
I'm glad to get more of the main story again; while some of the celebrity introducers for the series have said the shorts are Mignola's best work, I'm too much of a long-form story lover to agree. If you've made it this far with the series, it's worth keeping on.
Lockwood and Co.: The Whispering Skull
After enjoying the first Lockwood and Co., I wanted to get on with the series. The first book ended with a revelation that served as a tease for the second book: the titular whispering skull. The second book begins with a couple of ongoing situations: the skull hasn't spoken since the end of book 1 and Lockwood and Co. are doing well as an agency. After a slightly bungled commission, Lockwood and Co. enter a wager with their nemeses: Quill Kipps and his junior agents. Whoever succeeds in solving the next case they're both on will get the satisfaction of the other's public apology in the paper.
Well, of course the very next case Lockwood and Co. take lands them working with Kipps and co. In their race to win, our heroes end up racing against time and murderous artifact collectors to save the city (and their reputations).
This book had everything I loved about the first: humor, worldbuilding, characterization, and plotting. The mystery was less surface-level this time, and the competition with Kipps added some extra tension to the story. I still got closer to the solution much sooner than narrator Lucy, but she's meant to be the Watson to Lockwood's Sherlock. (Which is not to say she's unintelligent; she's just not as quick at certain aspects of investigation as he is.) The characterization of Kipps and his followers was deeper this time around, appropriate for their elevated importance. There were several points in the story where I was frustrated with Lucy's opinions about other characters and the plot later vindicated me on at least two of them. As with the previous book, there are elements introduced here which are meant to carry on into the next book, most notably the cliffhanger of the last page. It's not a tease. It's a cliffhanger. Book 3 can't get here fast enough.
March 14, 2018
WaterColor Wednesday: 100 Myths and Other Things
Welcome to another Watercolor Wednesday, featuring lots of drawing, a few knit/crochet projects, and some actual watercolor! (Ok, so it was done with pencils, but it's still painting.)
On with the show . . .
Mirriam did an art auction in which art/crafting projects were acceptable tender (good news for this broke guy), and I won her painting of Azrael from her novel Paper Crowns (and its sequels). [I bid on him because he looks eerily like how I imagine Merlin from Albion Academy, especially after Chapter 11.] In exchange, I created a wand holster to match the Gandalf gloves she commissioned a while back. et viola!
Modified from this pattern
After that, I had two scarves commissioned: one for a friend's wife's birthday in a blend of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff colors (and I forgot to take a picture before I mailed it off! :( ) and one for my pastor using the same pattern as my Newt scarf, but in different colors.
Yes, my pastor is a Ravenclaw and doesn't realize it.
I also did some sketching this month, both in prep for 100 Myths drawings and just to see what I could draw. This guy was an idle sketch drawn while I was at a local writing group.
And a partial view of random angry eyes at the bottom.
Then I had a page of sketches that were prep for other drawings. I started with a sketch for the third 100 Myths drawing, added some beech leaves to prep for the fourth Myth, and then added some faces that were further prep for the fourth Myth.
Beech leaves are beautiful.
I won't tell you which actress the sketches on the right are based on, because they did not come out as well as I'd like.
And here's a close up of the dryad from the bottom left, because he was my best prep sketch for the dryad Myth.
Here's the larger prep sketch for the dryad. His features have changed a good bit because I'm still figuring out how to change scale from sketch to sketch.
Here's the third drawing in the 100 Myths series: Gaia and Uranus.
And the fourth (and latest) Myth: a beech tree dryad. I experimented a little with this one and used my new pen brush as well as my fineliner. I like the shading and think I'll try to do more with this in the future.
And finally, the watercolor sketch page. I used my watercolor pencils to draw out the characters in my mixed media sketchbook. It handled the water very well when I activated the paint, though I'm a bit worried it'll warp too much if I use full watercolor paint on it. The bottom left is a colorized version of the beech dryad sketch above; top left is a toadstool person; middle right is a faun (I'm still not quite sure what to call that guy above him); and on the lower right are some attempts to blend the colors of a beech leaf. I ended up going with a single color in the final version on the left, but it was fun seeing what color blending could do with the pencils.
As always, let me know what you like and what you want to see more of in the future. If there's something you'd like to see me draw or paint that I haven't yet, mention it in the comments!
On with the show . . .
Mirriam did an art auction in which art/crafting projects were acceptable tender (good news for this broke guy), and I won her painting of Azrael from her novel Paper Crowns (and its sequels). [I bid on him because he looks eerily like how I imagine Merlin from Albion Academy, especially after Chapter 11.] In exchange, I created a wand holster to match the Gandalf gloves she commissioned a while back. et viola!
Modified from this patternAfter that, I had two scarves commissioned: one for a friend's wife's birthday in a blend of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff colors (and I forgot to take a picture before I mailed it off! :( ) and one for my pastor using the same pattern as my Newt scarf, but in different colors.
Yes, my pastor is a Ravenclaw and doesn't realize it.I also did some sketching this month, both in prep for 100 Myths drawings and just to see what I could draw. This guy was an idle sketch drawn while I was at a local writing group.
And a partial view of random angry eyes at the bottom.Then I had a page of sketches that were prep for other drawings. I started with a sketch for the third 100 Myths drawing, added some beech leaves to prep for the fourth Myth, and then added some faces that were further prep for the fourth Myth.
Beech leaves are beautiful.
I won't tell you which actress the sketches on the right are based on, because they did not come out as well as I'd like.And here's a close up of the dryad from the bottom left, because he was my best prep sketch for the dryad Myth.
Here's the larger prep sketch for the dryad. His features have changed a good bit because I'm still figuring out how to change scale from sketch to sketch.
Here's the third drawing in the 100 Myths series: Gaia and Uranus.
And the fourth (and latest) Myth: a beech tree dryad. I experimented a little with this one and used my new pen brush as well as my fineliner. I like the shading and think I'll try to do more with this in the future.
And finally, the watercolor sketch page. I used my watercolor pencils to draw out the characters in my mixed media sketchbook. It handled the water very well when I activated the paint, though I'm a bit worried it'll warp too much if I use full watercolor paint on it. The bottom left is a colorized version of the beech dryad sketch above; top left is a toadstool person; middle right is a faun (I'm still not quite sure what to call that guy above him); and on the lower right are some attempts to blend the colors of a beech leaf. I ended up going with a single color in the final version on the left, but it was fun seeing what color blending could do with the pencils.
As always, let me know what you like and what you want to see more of in the future. If there's something you'd like to see me draw or paint that I haven't yet, mention it in the comments!
March 12, 2018
Monday Musings: The Art of The Oh Hellos
Ever since I wrote up my ThrowBook Thursday post on Dear Wormwood, I've been somewhat obsessively listening to the entire oeuvre of The Oh Hellos (their Christmas album notwithstanding, because it's Lent/Easter season and I probably won't be back into Christmas/Advent music until at least June). Going through two full albums and three EPs has convinced me of two things. First, I have not given the Oh Hellos' first EP and album enough love in the past. Second, their body of work feels like an extended story that turns back in on itself with new insight.
(Before I get any further, you should check out this handy examination of the Oh Hellos' work by Rachel at Let All Be Wick. She does a fine job summarizing the ideas of each album, and her belief that Boreas will be the next "4 Winds" EP matches mine, but with lyrical support.)
The Oh Hellos EP
The four songs in this collection serve as a sort of prelude to the full album that follows. "Hello, My Old Heart" is both naive and experienced, digging into the pain of heartbreak and pushing on to what comes after. "Lay Me Down" has a bluegrass/folk sound that serves its lyrics well. "Cold is the Night" demonstrates the lyrical deftness that the Oh Hellos are capable of. "Trees" is a song about relationships and the dissonance between childhood and adulthood captured in the image of climbing trees (a theme and image that return in Dear Wormwood).
Through the Deep, Dark Valley
Through the Deep, Dark Valley is unique among the Oh Hellos' albums in that it features a reprise of its opening song. Like Dear Wormwood, the music follows a journey. (Though the mixing isn't quite as solid as on Dear Wormwood and the later EPs; while those albums are mixed (composed, in some cases) in such a way that the songs work best in album order, TtDDV's songs have some stark contrasts that preclude this sort of uniformity of vision. Then again, maybe that's part of the journey through the valley: you're going to stumble over unexpected changes as you go). Before I began obsessing with the Oh Hellos a few weeks ago, I think I'd listened through this album once. I loved "The Lament of Eustace Scrubb" but I didn't think the album had the coherency of Dear Wormwood and didn't feel the need to come back to it.
In going back to it, however, I discovered that there is a thread that carries through the album. There's repentance and experience woven into all of the songs, and you can hear the seeds of Dear Wormwood in this album just as the seeds of this album were in the original EP. The songs range from the Biblical ("Like the Dawn" is a meditation on Adam's first look at Eve and "Wishing Well" feels like a modern take on "The Prodigal Son") to the folksy ("Eat You Alive" and "Second Child, Restless Child"). "Second Child, Restless Child" reads like a more developed version of ideas from "Lay Me Down" on the EP and "I Have Made Mistakes" is an aural sequel to "Hello, My Old Heart."
Notos
The first in what is presumed to be a series of four EPs titled after the Greek embodiments of the winds (Notos [South], Eurus [East], Boreas [North], and Zephyrus [West]), Notos moves from the triumphant call to repentance at the end of Dear Wormwood to the mountaintop. But it's not a triumphant mountain. It's a mountain as representative as the valley of the dark night of the soul. The lyrics of "On the Mountain Tall" are concerned with the encounter Elijah had with God, wherein God revealed himself in the still, small voice rather than the big, showy whirlwind or earthquake. That idea of fire carries over into the next song, "Torches," which also introduces the figure of Fortuna (or luck); keep an eye (or an ear) out for her since she's featured in both of the EPs released in this series so far. The EPs carry over some musical tricks from Dear Wormwood, namely the inclusion of musical interludes and the construction that makes these pieces integral to the sound of the songs they surround. "Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling" is one such interlude, leading perfectly into the next song (and my personal favorite on the album), "Constellations." Next we get the titular song, "Notos," which uses the threat of a hurricane as a metaphor for trials and loss. This leads into the second interlude of the EP, "Mandatory Evac/Counting Cars," which echoes "Planetarium Stickers" while carrying over the imagery of "Notos" before giving way to the finale, "New River."
Eurus
As Notos began with an examination of personal and societal values compared to God's views, Eurus begins with the hard truth that it rains on "the wicked and just all the same". It then moves through "Dry Branches" (our first musical interlude) into "Grow," a song about allowing the wilderness to do its work and "let the river run its course." (One can't help but remember "New River" from Notos and "The Lament of Eustace Scrubb" from Through the Deep, Dark Valley.) Then we get "Eurus," which features the return of "mother Fortuna," who is once again behind the destructive tendencies of the singer and his fellows; it also calls us back to the first interlude with the singer's bones "cracking like a dry branch in a westward wind". But there's hope beyond Fortuna's influence because the "new Arcadia" mentioned in "Grow" seems to have "come around" in the next track, "A Convocation of Fauns (A Faunvocation If You Will)." (Yes, that's the official track name, and it wins my favorite track title ever.) We pass out of that interlude into a pair of songs that carry us back to the beginning of Notos and on into what comes next (Boreas?); "Hieroglyphs" turns outward to address those who are so worried about the afterlife they fail to account for the value of the present one and "Passerine" addresses concerns of personal faith to its object.
Have you listened to any Oh Hellos albums? Which songs (or albums) are your favorites?
(Before I get any further, you should check out this handy examination of the Oh Hellos' work by Rachel at Let All Be Wick. She does a fine job summarizing the ideas of each album, and her belief that Boreas will be the next "4 Winds" EP matches mine, but with lyrical support.)
The Oh Hellos EP
The four songs in this collection serve as a sort of prelude to the full album that follows. "Hello, My Old Heart" is both naive and experienced, digging into the pain of heartbreak and pushing on to what comes after. "Lay Me Down" has a bluegrass/folk sound that serves its lyrics well. "Cold is the Night" demonstrates the lyrical deftness that the Oh Hellos are capable of. "Trees" is a song about relationships and the dissonance between childhood and adulthood captured in the image of climbing trees (a theme and image that return in Dear Wormwood).
Through the Deep, Dark Valley
Through the Deep, Dark Valley is unique among the Oh Hellos' albums in that it features a reprise of its opening song. Like Dear Wormwood, the music follows a journey. (Though the mixing isn't quite as solid as on Dear Wormwood and the later EPs; while those albums are mixed (composed, in some cases) in such a way that the songs work best in album order, TtDDV's songs have some stark contrasts that preclude this sort of uniformity of vision. Then again, maybe that's part of the journey through the valley: you're going to stumble over unexpected changes as you go). Before I began obsessing with the Oh Hellos a few weeks ago, I think I'd listened through this album once. I loved "The Lament of Eustace Scrubb" but I didn't think the album had the coherency of Dear Wormwood and didn't feel the need to come back to it.
In going back to it, however, I discovered that there is a thread that carries through the album. There's repentance and experience woven into all of the songs, and you can hear the seeds of Dear Wormwood in this album just as the seeds of this album were in the original EP. The songs range from the Biblical ("Like the Dawn" is a meditation on Adam's first look at Eve and "Wishing Well" feels like a modern take on "The Prodigal Son") to the folksy ("Eat You Alive" and "Second Child, Restless Child"). "Second Child, Restless Child" reads like a more developed version of ideas from "Lay Me Down" on the EP and "I Have Made Mistakes" is an aural sequel to "Hello, My Old Heart."
Notos
The first in what is presumed to be a series of four EPs titled after the Greek embodiments of the winds (Notos [South], Eurus [East], Boreas [North], and Zephyrus [West]), Notos moves from the triumphant call to repentance at the end of Dear Wormwood to the mountaintop. But it's not a triumphant mountain. It's a mountain as representative as the valley of the dark night of the soul. The lyrics of "On the Mountain Tall" are concerned with the encounter Elijah had with God, wherein God revealed himself in the still, small voice rather than the big, showy whirlwind or earthquake. That idea of fire carries over into the next song, "Torches," which also introduces the figure of Fortuna (or luck); keep an eye (or an ear) out for her since she's featured in both of the EPs released in this series so far. The EPs carry over some musical tricks from Dear Wormwood, namely the inclusion of musical interludes and the construction that makes these pieces integral to the sound of the songs they surround. "Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling" is one such interlude, leading perfectly into the next song (and my personal favorite on the album), "Constellations." Next we get the titular song, "Notos," which uses the threat of a hurricane as a metaphor for trials and loss. This leads into the second interlude of the EP, "Mandatory Evac/Counting Cars," which echoes "Planetarium Stickers" while carrying over the imagery of "Notos" before giving way to the finale, "New River."
Eurus
As Notos began with an examination of personal and societal values compared to God's views, Eurus begins with the hard truth that it rains on "the wicked and just all the same". It then moves through "Dry Branches" (our first musical interlude) into "Grow," a song about allowing the wilderness to do its work and "let the river run its course." (One can't help but remember "New River" from Notos and "The Lament of Eustace Scrubb" from Through the Deep, Dark Valley.) Then we get "Eurus," which features the return of "mother Fortuna," who is once again behind the destructive tendencies of the singer and his fellows; it also calls us back to the first interlude with the singer's bones "cracking like a dry branch in a westward wind". But there's hope beyond Fortuna's influence because the "new Arcadia" mentioned in "Grow" seems to have "come around" in the next track, "A Convocation of Fauns (A Faunvocation If You Will)." (Yes, that's the official track name, and it wins my favorite track title ever.) We pass out of that interlude into a pair of songs that carry us back to the beginning of Notos and on into what comes next (Boreas?); "Hieroglyphs" turns outward to address those who are so worried about the afterlife they fail to account for the value of the present one and "Passerine" addresses concerns of personal faith to its object.
Have you listened to any Oh Hellos albums? Which songs (or albums) are your favorites?
March 6, 2018
Top 10 Tuesday: Animated TV Shows
Welcome back for another Top 10 list! This month, I'm taking a look at my favorite animated TV shows (including a few anime). (I am only including shows that I've seen all the way through at least once, though I do have some honorable mentions that don't meet that requirement.) Without further ado, to the list!
Gravity Falls
One of the newest shows on my list, Gravity Falls is the story of Dipper and Mabel Pines -- twin tweens who are sent to spend the summer with their great-uncle Stan in the middle of nowhere. As the summer progresses, they encounter all kinds of strange creatures lurking in the woods around Gravity Falls, and eventually wind up taking part in a battle to save the universe. The series puts some clever and touching spins on preteen/tween growing pains tropes and features some gripping storylines. I highly recommend checking it out if you're unfamiliar with it (though some of the later episodes have some very weird/disturbing moments that younger viewers should avoid). It can be streamed on Hulu.
Avatar: The Last Airbender
A more famous show, Avatar: The Last Airbender is the story of Aang, the legendary Avatar who is capable of mastering all four elemental "bending" techniques. It's a story that is both small in its focus on Aang and his relationships with those around him and expansive in the overarching story of saving the world from the tyranny of Fire Lord Ozai. With a mythology and myriad cultures that borrow heavily from East Asian culture, Avatar is both humorous and touching. It also features one of my favorite redemption arcs ever. So there's that. The series is due out on Blu-ray later this year, but the DVD sets are readily available.
Fullmetal Alchemist/Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
A pair of anime adaptations of the same manga story, these shows follow Alphonse and Edward Elric, two boys who have taken up the science of alchemy. When an attempt to resurrect their mother costs Ed two of his limbs and Al his entire body, they set out to find the legendary Philosopher's Stone so they can restore their bodies and move on with their lives. The first anime adapts the manga until about its halfway mark, at which point it deviates into its own (still solid) storyline (that is tied up in the film Conqueror of Shamballa). The second series (Brotherhood) adapts the manga much more closely. Both are worth watching and both are available on Netflix. (Be warned that there is some vulgarity and violent content that younger viewers should avoid.)
Young Justice
A recently revived series, Young Justice is a take on the sidekicks of the Justice League as they form their own team of superheroes and attempt to grow into maturity and selfhood outside the shadow of their adult mentors. There are growing pains, relationships forged and broken (both romantic and friendships), and plenty of solid storytelling to be had in the two available seasons of this show (streaming on Netflix last I checked). I'm beyond thrilled that DC is reviving it, even if it is for their own streaming service.
Gargoyles
Created by the same man behind Young Justice, Gargoyles is an urban fantasy show from the '90s that focuses on a clan of gargoyles who come to life at night for the first time in 1000 years in the middle of Manhattan. They take up the city as their new home and defend it from enemies both mortal and magical, aided in their task by human detective Elisa Maza. This show covers mythologies from all over the world and digs deep into its themes over the course of its 65 episodes. The whole series is (finally) available on DVD.
Over the Garden Wall
The shortest show on this list, Over the Garden Wall is a miniseries that first aired on Cartoon Network in 2014. It follows brothers Greg and Wert as they attempt to return home from a mysterious forest that seems home to all kinds of fairy tale and folklore characters, some with a darker twist than others. Despite its brevity, the show manages to pack in some excellent worldbuilding and character growth, especially for the brothers and their companion Beatrice, a talking bluebird. The soundtrack is also delightful, with a mixture of turn-of-the-century Americana style and modern sensibility. The series can be viewed on Hulu.
Trollhunters
Created by Guillermo del Toro (of Hellboy and Pan's Labyrinth fame), Trollhunters is the first of a trilogy of shows set to explore different aspects of the same story world. It follows Jim Lake as he discovers his role as the Trollhunter, a defender of humanity and good trollkind from the darker trolls that seek to destroy goodness and light. He's joined on his journey by Blinky and AAARRRGH!!!, two trolls who accept Jim's role as the first human trollhunter more readily than most; his best friend Toby, who thinks Jim's new job is cooler than Jim does; and a handful of other allies gathered over the course of the show. The show does a good job of weaving in character development for its secondary characters and villains as well as Jim and his closest friends, and the hints of a larger mythology at work leave viewers excited for the future of the franchise. Seasons 1 and 2 are available on Netflix, with season 3 and the second show in the trilogy (3Below) set to premiere this year.
Erased
A short series at only 12 episodes, Erased is part time-travel story, part murder mystery, and all character development. It follows Satoru Fujinuma, a young man who can travel back in time, but only far enough to prevent some tragedy specific to the time he is sent back. Most often, this is something small like pulling someone out of the street, saving their life and making Satoru's more complicated. One day, he is sent back all the way to his youth, when several of his classmates went missing, the victims of a child murderer. Back then, the police suspected a local mentally disabled man for the crimes, but Satoru knows this suspicion is false. Faced with fitting into a time that he barely remembers, he now has to track down the murderer without giving himself away or letting anyone else die. The series is tightly plotted and has plenty of strong character moments. It can be streamed on Hulu.
Ouran High School Host Club
In a surprising turn of events, I'm including a show that does NOT fall into the science fiction and fantasy grouping. What's more, it's technically a romance. Ouran High School Host Club is a satire of romantic anime (particularly the kind called reverse harem -- which isn't necessarily about an actual harem), poking fun at the tropes of the genre while still creating a heartfelt and compelling story within the genre. It centers on Haruhi, a girl who is new to the prestigious Ouran High School. On her first day, she accidentally incurs a debt to the school's "host club" -- essentially a place where the attractive and fashionable boys of the school rent themselves out for dates with the girls of the school. In order to work off the debt, Haruhi is enlisted as part of the club, despite the fact that she's female (a fact that the male characters are slow to pick up on at first . . . somehow?). What follows is a sweet, humorous journey for Haruhi and the boys of the club as they grow to truly care for one another. This series does deal with some gender issues that may be unsuitable for young viewers, but older teens and adults should find it enjoyable. It is available to stream on Netflix.
Teen Titans
Yes, another superhero show. But this was my first superhero show. It was also the show that taught me a series can be both funny (see anything with Control Freak) and serious (see any episode focused on Raven -- especially season 4's arc -- or Robin's rivalry with Slade). It's one of the first shows I can remember scheduling into my regular life (along with Justice League, mentioned below). It follows Robin and his fellow teenage heroes (none of them sidekicks in this version of things) as they battle villains who seek to conquer their city (or at least mess it up a bit). It balances humor with serious storytelling and introduces Raven, a conflicted character if ever there was one, to the world of DC comics adaptations. The series isn't available to stream with any subscription I'm aware of, but the DVDs are readily available and the series can be purchased on Amazon Video.
Honorable Mentions:
Madoka Magica
Justice League/Justice League Unlimited
Darkwing Duck
DuckTales (both series)
The Legend of Korra
TaleSpin
Disney's Aladdin
Scooby-Doo, Where are You?/Mystery, Inc.
What are your favorite animated shows? Did any of them make the list? Let me know in the comments!
Gravity Falls
One of the newest shows on my list, Gravity Falls is the story of Dipper and Mabel Pines -- twin tweens who are sent to spend the summer with their great-uncle Stan in the middle of nowhere. As the summer progresses, they encounter all kinds of strange creatures lurking in the woods around Gravity Falls, and eventually wind up taking part in a battle to save the universe. The series puts some clever and touching spins on preteen/tween growing pains tropes and features some gripping storylines. I highly recommend checking it out if you're unfamiliar with it (though some of the later episodes have some very weird/disturbing moments that younger viewers should avoid). It can be streamed on Hulu.
Avatar: The Last Airbender
A more famous show, Avatar: The Last Airbender is the story of Aang, the legendary Avatar who is capable of mastering all four elemental "bending" techniques. It's a story that is both small in its focus on Aang and his relationships with those around him and expansive in the overarching story of saving the world from the tyranny of Fire Lord Ozai. With a mythology and myriad cultures that borrow heavily from East Asian culture, Avatar is both humorous and touching. It also features one of my favorite redemption arcs ever. So there's that. The series is due out on Blu-ray later this year, but the DVD sets are readily available.
Fullmetal Alchemist/Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
A pair of anime adaptations of the same manga story, these shows follow Alphonse and Edward Elric, two boys who have taken up the science of alchemy. When an attempt to resurrect their mother costs Ed two of his limbs and Al his entire body, they set out to find the legendary Philosopher's Stone so they can restore their bodies and move on with their lives. The first anime adapts the manga until about its halfway mark, at which point it deviates into its own (still solid) storyline (that is tied up in the film Conqueror of Shamballa). The second series (Brotherhood) adapts the manga much more closely. Both are worth watching and both are available on Netflix. (Be warned that there is some vulgarity and violent content that younger viewers should avoid.)
Young Justice
A recently revived series, Young Justice is a take on the sidekicks of the Justice League as they form their own team of superheroes and attempt to grow into maturity and selfhood outside the shadow of their adult mentors. There are growing pains, relationships forged and broken (both romantic and friendships), and plenty of solid storytelling to be had in the two available seasons of this show (streaming on Netflix last I checked). I'm beyond thrilled that DC is reviving it, even if it is for their own streaming service.
Gargoyles
Created by the same man behind Young Justice, Gargoyles is an urban fantasy show from the '90s that focuses on a clan of gargoyles who come to life at night for the first time in 1000 years in the middle of Manhattan. They take up the city as their new home and defend it from enemies both mortal and magical, aided in their task by human detective Elisa Maza. This show covers mythologies from all over the world and digs deep into its themes over the course of its 65 episodes. The whole series is (finally) available on DVD.
Over the Garden Wall
The shortest show on this list, Over the Garden Wall is a miniseries that first aired on Cartoon Network in 2014. It follows brothers Greg and Wert as they attempt to return home from a mysterious forest that seems home to all kinds of fairy tale and folklore characters, some with a darker twist than others. Despite its brevity, the show manages to pack in some excellent worldbuilding and character growth, especially for the brothers and their companion Beatrice, a talking bluebird. The soundtrack is also delightful, with a mixture of turn-of-the-century Americana style and modern sensibility. The series can be viewed on Hulu.
Trollhunters
Created by Guillermo del Toro (of Hellboy and Pan's Labyrinth fame), Trollhunters is the first of a trilogy of shows set to explore different aspects of the same story world. It follows Jim Lake as he discovers his role as the Trollhunter, a defender of humanity and good trollkind from the darker trolls that seek to destroy goodness and light. He's joined on his journey by Blinky and AAARRRGH!!!, two trolls who accept Jim's role as the first human trollhunter more readily than most; his best friend Toby, who thinks Jim's new job is cooler than Jim does; and a handful of other allies gathered over the course of the show. The show does a good job of weaving in character development for its secondary characters and villains as well as Jim and his closest friends, and the hints of a larger mythology at work leave viewers excited for the future of the franchise. Seasons 1 and 2 are available on Netflix, with season 3 and the second show in the trilogy (3Below) set to premiere this year.
Erased
A short series at only 12 episodes, Erased is part time-travel story, part murder mystery, and all character development. It follows Satoru Fujinuma, a young man who can travel back in time, but only far enough to prevent some tragedy specific to the time he is sent back. Most often, this is something small like pulling someone out of the street, saving their life and making Satoru's more complicated. One day, he is sent back all the way to his youth, when several of his classmates went missing, the victims of a child murderer. Back then, the police suspected a local mentally disabled man for the crimes, but Satoru knows this suspicion is false. Faced with fitting into a time that he barely remembers, he now has to track down the murderer without giving himself away or letting anyone else die. The series is tightly plotted and has plenty of strong character moments. It can be streamed on Hulu.
Ouran High School Host Club
In a surprising turn of events, I'm including a show that does NOT fall into the science fiction and fantasy grouping. What's more, it's technically a romance. Ouran High School Host Club is a satire of romantic anime (particularly the kind called reverse harem -- which isn't necessarily about an actual harem), poking fun at the tropes of the genre while still creating a heartfelt and compelling story within the genre. It centers on Haruhi, a girl who is new to the prestigious Ouran High School. On her first day, she accidentally incurs a debt to the school's "host club" -- essentially a place where the attractive and fashionable boys of the school rent themselves out for dates with the girls of the school. In order to work off the debt, Haruhi is enlisted as part of the club, despite the fact that she's female (a fact that the male characters are slow to pick up on at first . . . somehow?). What follows is a sweet, humorous journey for Haruhi and the boys of the club as they grow to truly care for one another. This series does deal with some gender issues that may be unsuitable for young viewers, but older teens and adults should find it enjoyable. It is available to stream on Netflix.
Teen Titans
Yes, another superhero show. But this was my first superhero show. It was also the show that taught me a series can be both funny (see anything with Control Freak) and serious (see any episode focused on Raven -- especially season 4's arc -- or Robin's rivalry with Slade). It's one of the first shows I can remember scheduling into my regular life (along with Justice League, mentioned below). It follows Robin and his fellow teenage heroes (none of them sidekicks in this version of things) as they battle villains who seek to conquer their city (or at least mess it up a bit). It balances humor with serious storytelling and introduces Raven, a conflicted character if ever there was one, to the world of DC comics adaptations. The series isn't available to stream with any subscription I'm aware of, but the DVDs are readily available and the series can be purchased on Amazon Video.
Honorable Mentions:
Madoka Magica
Justice League/Justice League Unlimited
Darkwing Duck
DuckTales (both series)
The Legend of Korra
TaleSpin
Disney's Aladdin
Scooby-Doo, Where are You?/Mystery, Inc.
What are your favorite animated shows? Did any of them make the list? Let me know in the comments!
March 5, 2018
Monday Musings: The Tragedy of Renfield
I've been listening to the Audible full cast production of Dracula (each narrator in the novel has a different reader, with Tim Curry as Van Helsing and Alan Cumming as Dr. Seward) on my commute lately, and I'm noticing things I haven't caught in previous readings.
Why do modern versions never keep the mustaches?
For instance, there's a bench in Jonathan Harker's early entries that the locals call "word bearer." I assume that's where visitors would stop to share the news. But the loftiness of that phrase started my wheels turning. I know Stoker isn't always the most careful with his details in this book (for example, Lucy's hair changing color after she dies) but this seems like an odd bit of trivia to be throwing in with all of Jonathan's other exotic travel experiences. The very phrase "word bearer" conjures up something grand, important, and even imposing in its own way.
If you move out from the obvious meaning I mentioned above and consider how spiritual the battle becomes later in the book, the next obvious connotation is Word-bearer, that is, someone who carries the Word (or Christ) with them. Van Helsing is obviously a Word-bearer and (like the bench) often sits at the threshold (a place of power in vampire lore) as both guard and informant (that is, he brings news of vampires and such to the other heroes). He also (given his priestly nature and his Catholic beliefs) is a literal Word-bearer; he is a Christian (a little Christ, but also connoting a Christopher or Christ-bearer) and he carries with him the blessed elements of the Eucharist (which, going back to the Catholic angle, are the literal blood and body of Christ once blessed). Van Helsing's also the most religious of the characters (though I had forgotten how much Jonathan's prayers and experience as an Anglican vs. a Catholic influenced the early chapters). Jonathan's prayers aside, both Mina and Dr. Seward demonstrate some belief in the Almighty but, for a book with such religious imagery waving about, the main characters seem far less concerned with matters of faith than one might expect.
Add to all this the fact the novel is told via letters, journals, and diaries -- all of which become the word-bearers of the protagonists -- and I begin to wonder if there isn't more there.
But that was just something that came up in the early chapters (and those of you who are friends with me on Facebook have probably some vague memory of me posting an earlier version of this when I started listening to the book). What I really want to talk about today is Renfield -- specifically, how he is a tragic character.
Renfield, for those of you who haven't read the novel, is a mental patient of Dr. Jack Seward, one of the main narrators and suitor to Lucy Westenra, whose death and undeath form the center of the book. Renfield's particular disorder involves the mania of zoophagy -- consuming other lives in order to prolong his own. If that sounds similar to vampirism, it should. Renfield's disorder becomes a secular/mundane counterpoint to the threat of Dracula, and even makes him susceptible to the Count's influence. No sooner does Dracula move into the abandoned house next to Dr. Seward's asylum than he begins to make Renfield his servant. The Count promises endless lives to Renfield and, at his weakest moments, Renfield assents to whatever the Count should need, calling him Master.
However, when Renfield meets Mina Harker, Jonathan's new bride and friend to the doubly late Lucy, he seems to turn around. He tells Seward to move him away from the asylum in order to prevent great sorrow. He appears to regain his sanity, speaking more calmly and eloquently than on any previous occasion we're privy to. Dr. Seward, of course, doubts this change and is seemingly justified when Renfield begs and grows manic again in his efforts to be sent away. In another characteristically brilliant move on his part (/sarcasm), Seward thinks it best to keep Renfield nearby so he can't aid Dracula from outside. Never mind the fact that Van Helsing has only just told Seward and the other heroes (Mina aside; again, such brilliance) that vampires must be invited in and that Mina is staying in the house connected to the asylum.
Why does this make Renfield tragic? Because he is never treated as a person by anyone except, perhaps, Mina, who addresses him rationally and sees the pitiable in him. At the best of times, Seward treats Renfield as simply another madman; at the worst, he views Renfield as a pet project that will make him famous in his field or as a potential traitor on the outside. Of course, Renfield's betrayal comes not from without, but within. When Dracula returns, he attempts to withstand the vampire's commands, but yields in the end. He attempts to stop Dracula from entering the house and harming Mina (Dracula's intentions being made clear to Renfield in this moment of intimacy), and is beaten within an inch of his life for his efforts. Even when it is clear that something is wrong, Van Helsing and Seward only treat Renfield as a source of information (valuable information, yes, but less valuable than, say, the man's soul). They perform surgery on Renfield, but only as much as will allow them to question him. When he dies, it doesn't seem to have any effect on them. He is already gone from their minds anyway.
If Seward had considered the implications of having one of Dracula's agents within his household, he might have prevented multiple tragedies. If he had considered the spiritual torture Renfield endured, wishing to leave behind his mania and the sway of the vampire, but knowing he hadn't the strength to do so, Seward might have kept Renfield from betraying them to Dracula. If anyone had shown concern for Renfield as a person, he might have been more than "the madman who helped the Count".
This is not, by the way, the only incident where information isn't presented to all concerned or where Seward and Van Helsing make questionable judgments. They both keep vital information from the Westenra household when Lucy is being preyed upon by Dracula -- a fact Van Helsing even keeps from Seward until she's become undead. Then, as if they needed to learn the lesson again, they keep Mina from their counsels -- including the information on Dracula's abilities and weaknesses -- despite knowing that she is in just as much danger either way by proximity to Dracula and their group of heroes. It isn't until Mina is marked by Dracula as his own that they consider including her in all their counsels. The more I re-read this book, the more I begin to consider Jonathan and Mina the real heroes, and Lucy and Renfield (as well as Mina) the victims as much of the other supposed heroes as they are of Dracula.
What do you think? Is Renfield a tragic figure? Who are the heroes? Do you think there's any significance in the thread of word-bearers in the novel?
Why do modern versions never keep the mustaches?For instance, there's a bench in Jonathan Harker's early entries that the locals call "word bearer." I assume that's where visitors would stop to share the news. But the loftiness of that phrase started my wheels turning. I know Stoker isn't always the most careful with his details in this book (for example, Lucy's hair changing color after she dies) but this seems like an odd bit of trivia to be throwing in with all of Jonathan's other exotic travel experiences. The very phrase "word bearer" conjures up something grand, important, and even imposing in its own way.
If you move out from the obvious meaning I mentioned above and consider how spiritual the battle becomes later in the book, the next obvious connotation is Word-bearer, that is, someone who carries the Word (or Christ) with them. Van Helsing is obviously a Word-bearer and (like the bench) often sits at the threshold (a place of power in vampire lore) as both guard and informant (that is, he brings news of vampires and such to the other heroes). He also (given his priestly nature and his Catholic beliefs) is a literal Word-bearer; he is a Christian (a little Christ, but also connoting a Christopher or Christ-bearer) and he carries with him the blessed elements of the Eucharist (which, going back to the Catholic angle, are the literal blood and body of Christ once blessed). Van Helsing's also the most religious of the characters (though I had forgotten how much Jonathan's prayers and experience as an Anglican vs. a Catholic influenced the early chapters). Jonathan's prayers aside, both Mina and Dr. Seward demonstrate some belief in the Almighty but, for a book with such religious imagery waving about, the main characters seem far less concerned with matters of faith than one might expect.
Add to all this the fact the novel is told via letters, journals, and diaries -- all of which become the word-bearers of the protagonists -- and I begin to wonder if there isn't more there.
But that was just something that came up in the early chapters (and those of you who are friends with me on Facebook have probably some vague memory of me posting an earlier version of this when I started listening to the book). What I really want to talk about today is Renfield -- specifically, how he is a tragic character.
Renfield, for those of you who haven't read the novel, is a mental patient of Dr. Jack Seward, one of the main narrators and suitor to Lucy Westenra, whose death and undeath form the center of the book. Renfield's particular disorder involves the mania of zoophagy -- consuming other lives in order to prolong his own. If that sounds similar to vampirism, it should. Renfield's disorder becomes a secular/mundane counterpoint to the threat of Dracula, and even makes him susceptible to the Count's influence. No sooner does Dracula move into the abandoned house next to Dr. Seward's asylum than he begins to make Renfield his servant. The Count promises endless lives to Renfield and, at his weakest moments, Renfield assents to whatever the Count should need, calling him Master.
However, when Renfield meets Mina Harker, Jonathan's new bride and friend to the doubly late Lucy, he seems to turn around. He tells Seward to move him away from the asylum in order to prevent great sorrow. He appears to regain his sanity, speaking more calmly and eloquently than on any previous occasion we're privy to. Dr. Seward, of course, doubts this change and is seemingly justified when Renfield begs and grows manic again in his efforts to be sent away. In another characteristically brilliant move on his part (/sarcasm), Seward thinks it best to keep Renfield nearby so he can't aid Dracula from outside. Never mind the fact that Van Helsing has only just told Seward and the other heroes (Mina aside; again, such brilliance) that vampires must be invited in and that Mina is staying in the house connected to the asylum.
Why does this make Renfield tragic? Because he is never treated as a person by anyone except, perhaps, Mina, who addresses him rationally and sees the pitiable in him. At the best of times, Seward treats Renfield as simply another madman; at the worst, he views Renfield as a pet project that will make him famous in his field or as a potential traitor on the outside. Of course, Renfield's betrayal comes not from without, but within. When Dracula returns, he attempts to withstand the vampire's commands, but yields in the end. He attempts to stop Dracula from entering the house and harming Mina (Dracula's intentions being made clear to Renfield in this moment of intimacy), and is beaten within an inch of his life for his efforts. Even when it is clear that something is wrong, Van Helsing and Seward only treat Renfield as a source of information (valuable information, yes, but less valuable than, say, the man's soul). They perform surgery on Renfield, but only as much as will allow them to question him. When he dies, it doesn't seem to have any effect on them. He is already gone from their minds anyway.
If Seward had considered the implications of having one of Dracula's agents within his household, he might have prevented multiple tragedies. If he had considered the spiritual torture Renfield endured, wishing to leave behind his mania and the sway of the vampire, but knowing he hadn't the strength to do so, Seward might have kept Renfield from betraying them to Dracula. If anyone had shown concern for Renfield as a person, he might have been more than "the madman who helped the Count".
This is not, by the way, the only incident where information isn't presented to all concerned or where Seward and Van Helsing make questionable judgments. They both keep vital information from the Westenra household when Lucy is being preyed upon by Dracula -- a fact Van Helsing even keeps from Seward until she's become undead. Then, as if they needed to learn the lesson again, they keep Mina from their counsels -- including the information on Dracula's abilities and weaknesses -- despite knowing that she is in just as much danger either way by proximity to Dracula and their group of heroes. It isn't until Mina is marked by Dracula as his own that they consider including her in all their counsels. The more I re-read this book, the more I begin to consider Jonathan and Mina the real heroes, and Lucy and Renfield (as well as Mina) the victims as much of the other supposed heroes as they are of Dracula.
What do you think? Is Renfield a tragic figure? Who are the heroes? Do you think there's any significance in the thread of word-bearers in the novel?
February 22, 2018
ThrowBook Thursday: Music Edition: Dear Wormwood
I want to mix things up a little. Instead of a book that's stuck with me, this month's TBT is about a musical album that I can't shake: The Oh Hellos' Dear Wormwood.
I mentioned The Oh Hellos a while back when I discussed my favorite songs inspired by Narnia, but while I love their song "The Lament of Eustace Scrubb," I didn't truly fall in love with their music until Dear Wormwood.
Dear Wormwood takes its title from C.S. Lewis' satire The Screwtape Letters, which comprises a series of letters written from Screwtape to his nephew Wormwood, an under-demon tasked with the temptation of an unnamed human. Despite the album's name, only one song explicitly deals with Screwtape, the eponymous track "Dear Wormwood". The album as a whole is concerned with similar themes, however, addressing temptation, lost love, death, and more with a musical tone that has evolved from The Oh Hellos' earlier acoustic style into something like a true folk/bluegrass style.
Many of the songs on the album have a haunting or mournful quality to them, with a lyrical emphasis on the ghosts and demons that haunt the singers, whether the metaphorical ghosts of lost love as in "Bitter Water" or the literal demons of "Dear Wormwood."
But despite the dark subject matter, Dear Wormwood carries hope throughout its songs. Sometimes the hope shines through in the uplifting (or at the least upbeat) musical accompaniments ("Bitter Water" is an example of this, with "This Will End" as the counterpoint). Other times, the lyrics (never losing their haunting quality) illuminate the song's subject with images of Christ as the victorious king (such as "Caesar" or more aptly "Where is Your Rider?"). "Thus Always to Tyrants," the final song (appropriately preluded by a fun cover of "Danse Macabre"), is nothing if not a celebration of Christ's victory over death.
Sprinkled throughout the album are some purely instrumental tracks (sometimes featuring vocal overlays, but never lyrics) to bridge some of the songs and to set the stage for what's to come. These interludes lend to the conceit that the album is a journey from the youthful disillusionment of the early songs, through death, and on to the resurrection of the final song. Dear Wormwood, though not a story album, presents itself like a novel rather than a short story collection; that is, it works best when taken as a whole rather than piecemeal.
As I'm writing this review, I'm listening to the two latest EP releases from The Oh Hellos: Notos and Eurus. I'm happy to say that the things I loved in Dear Wormwood (the musical style, the lyrical cleverness) are still here, while the overall style is allowed to move a little closer to pop. (There are likely to be two more EPs in this series, since these are named for the southern and eastern winds of Greek mythology, and the band has said they are part of an "ongoing series".)
If you haven't listened to Dear Wormwood yet, I encourage you to check it out below.
I mentioned The Oh Hellos a while back when I discussed my favorite songs inspired by Narnia, but while I love their song "The Lament of Eustace Scrubb," I didn't truly fall in love with their music until Dear Wormwood.
Dear Wormwood takes its title from C.S. Lewis' satire The Screwtape Letters, which comprises a series of letters written from Screwtape to his nephew Wormwood, an under-demon tasked with the temptation of an unnamed human. Despite the album's name, only one song explicitly deals with Screwtape, the eponymous track "Dear Wormwood". The album as a whole is concerned with similar themes, however, addressing temptation, lost love, death, and more with a musical tone that has evolved from The Oh Hellos' earlier acoustic style into something like a true folk/bluegrass style.
Many of the songs on the album have a haunting or mournful quality to them, with a lyrical emphasis on the ghosts and demons that haunt the singers, whether the metaphorical ghosts of lost love as in "Bitter Water" or the literal demons of "Dear Wormwood."
But despite the dark subject matter, Dear Wormwood carries hope throughout its songs. Sometimes the hope shines through in the uplifting (or at the least upbeat) musical accompaniments ("Bitter Water" is an example of this, with "This Will End" as the counterpoint). Other times, the lyrics (never losing their haunting quality) illuminate the song's subject with images of Christ as the victorious king (such as "Caesar" or more aptly "Where is Your Rider?"). "Thus Always to Tyrants," the final song (appropriately preluded by a fun cover of "Danse Macabre"), is nothing if not a celebration of Christ's victory over death.
Sprinkled throughout the album are some purely instrumental tracks (sometimes featuring vocal overlays, but never lyrics) to bridge some of the songs and to set the stage for what's to come. These interludes lend to the conceit that the album is a journey from the youthful disillusionment of the early songs, through death, and on to the resurrection of the final song. Dear Wormwood, though not a story album, presents itself like a novel rather than a short story collection; that is, it works best when taken as a whole rather than piecemeal.
As I'm writing this review, I'm listening to the two latest EP releases from The Oh Hellos: Notos and Eurus. I'm happy to say that the things I loved in Dear Wormwood (the musical style, the lyrical cleverness) are still here, while the overall style is allowed to move a little closer to pop. (There are likely to be two more EPs in this series, since these are named for the southern and eastern winds of Greek mythology, and the band has said they are part of an "ongoing series".)
If you haven't listened to Dear Wormwood yet, I encourage you to check it out below.
February 19, 2018
Monday Musings: Ghost Story Review
Yep, I finished another Dresden Files book. No, I'm not jumping into the next one right away, much as I'd like to. I need to feed my brain something different for a bit. In any event, on to the review!
SPOILERS AHEAD
Ghost Story picks up immediately after the end of Changes, setting out to resolve the ending that Butcher insists is not a cliffhanger. It follows Harry through his ghostly attempts to solve his own murder.
Like Changes, Ghost Story revolves around a mystery, but spends more time on character development and world exploration than the mystery itself. I'm not sure if this is representing a change in the series' focus or Butcher's writing style or both. If it continues in Cold Days and Skin Game, I'll have to start thinking of Changes as more than the midpoint of the series.
I liked seeing the ramifications of Dresden's actions and his death in Changes, especially in how both affected Murphy and Molly, among others. I'm hoping that the developments presented in this book continue in the next few books. Molly especially gets some attention here that makes me excited for what comes next in her story.
The exploration of the ghostly aspects of the Dresdenverse was exciting to see, especially since it followed up on some characters that had been left by the wayside for a few books, particularly Mortimer Lindquist, who gets some real beefing up as a character in this book. Bringing Corpsetaker back in as the villain was brilliant on Butcher's part. Uriel's growing (background) role in the series is certainly setting up things for the final trilogy of the series.
With an ending as enticing (but not nearly as frustrating) as Changes, Ghost Story invites you to push forward into the rest of the series as it now stands.
SPOILERS AHEAD
Ghost Story picks up immediately after the end of Changes, setting out to resolve the ending that Butcher insists is not a cliffhanger. It follows Harry through his ghostly attempts to solve his own murder.
Like Changes, Ghost Story revolves around a mystery, but spends more time on character development and world exploration than the mystery itself. I'm not sure if this is representing a change in the series' focus or Butcher's writing style or both. If it continues in Cold Days and Skin Game, I'll have to start thinking of Changes as more than the midpoint of the series.
I liked seeing the ramifications of Dresden's actions and his death in Changes, especially in how both affected Murphy and Molly, among others. I'm hoping that the developments presented in this book continue in the next few books. Molly especially gets some attention here that makes me excited for what comes next in her story.
The exploration of the ghostly aspects of the Dresdenverse was exciting to see, especially since it followed up on some characters that had been left by the wayside for a few books, particularly Mortimer Lindquist, who gets some real beefing up as a character in this book. Bringing Corpsetaker back in as the villain was brilliant on Butcher's part. Uriel's growing (background) role in the series is certainly setting up things for the final trilogy of the series.
With an ending as enticing (but not nearly as frustrating) as Changes, Ghost Story invites you to push forward into the rest of the series as it now stands.
February 15, 2018
Reviews and Art Catch-Up
Since I've failed to get my usual Monday Musings and Watercolor Wednesday posts up on time, I'm doing a combo post.
First up, the art news.
I finished the second in the 100 Myths series, after many failed attempts to get a sketch worked out. Presenting Jill Flame, a fiery counterpart to Jack Frost.
And here's a side-by-side view.
As a side note, my wonderful wife got me a Faber-Castell brush pen for Valentine's Day, and I'm itching to try it out. You'll probably see some drawing with this in future art posts.
A quick run-down of some books I've read since the last review roundup:
Hellboy Vol. 2-4: Volume 2 is a solid follow-up to the first, and in many ways serves as a sequel to the first volume. The third and fourth books are collections of short stories (some as brief as a few pages, and some the length of a regular issue or two) that are scattered through Hellboy's history, from early youth (like the comical "Pancakes," in which Hellboy tries pancakes for the first time, and all the demons despair of him ever joining their side as a result) to stories that tie up loose ends from the first two volumes. All in all, I'm still enjoying this series, but I'm looking forward to a more in-depth story that advances the overall plot.Sandman: Overture: A prequel to the Sandman graphic novel series. It sets up the first volume of the main series by detailing exactly how Morpheus wound up so weak and weary he was captured. There's a fantastic art style with some clever pages in this volume. That, plus some of the minor characters like Hope, make this worth the read for fans of the series.The Screaming Staircase: Book one of the Lockwood and Co. series, this was a pleasant read for me. I'm a huge fan of Jonathan Stroud's Bartimaeus trilogy, but was disappointed with his Heroes of the Valley. Since this series was hailed as having many of my favorite elements of Bartimaeus, like humor and a fun magic system, I picked it up. It did not disappoint. Part character study, part mystery, part ghost/horror story, this book is a great initiation to a series I can't wait to finish.
First up, the art news.
I finished the second in the 100 Myths series, after many failed attempts to get a sketch worked out. Presenting Jill Flame, a fiery counterpart to Jack Frost.
And here's a side-by-side view.
As a side note, my wonderful wife got me a Faber-Castell brush pen for Valentine's Day, and I'm itching to try it out. You'll probably see some drawing with this in future art posts.
A quick run-down of some books I've read since the last review roundup:
Hellboy Vol. 2-4: Volume 2 is a solid follow-up to the first, and in many ways serves as a sequel to the first volume. The third and fourth books are collections of short stories (some as brief as a few pages, and some the length of a regular issue or two) that are scattered through Hellboy's history, from early youth (like the comical "Pancakes," in which Hellboy tries pancakes for the first time, and all the demons despair of him ever joining their side as a result) to stories that tie up loose ends from the first two volumes. All in all, I'm still enjoying this series, but I'm looking forward to a more in-depth story that advances the overall plot.Sandman: Overture: A prequel to the Sandman graphic novel series. It sets up the first volume of the main series by detailing exactly how Morpheus wound up so weak and weary he was captured. There's a fantastic art style with some clever pages in this volume. That, plus some of the minor characters like Hope, make this worth the read for fans of the series.The Screaming Staircase: Book one of the Lockwood and Co. series, this was a pleasant read for me. I'm a huge fan of Jonathan Stroud's Bartimaeus trilogy, but was disappointed with his Heroes of the Valley. Since this series was hailed as having many of my favorite elements of Bartimaeus, like humor and a fun magic system, I picked it up. It did not disappoint. Part character study, part mystery, part ghost/horror story, this book is a great initiation to a series I can't wait to finish.
