Todd Klein's Blog, page 364

Swamp Thingin' New Orleans

Thursday morning I went out early for a walk through the French Quarter. The streets had been washed, as is the custom here nightly, and the morning sun made the old buildings gleam.

I walked east along Royal to The Esplanade, the eastern edge of the quarter, enjoying sights like this verdant balcony. I know they have a good deal of rain here, but the sun has been out nearly our entire visit, and it felt a bit more humid today, though still comfortable.

I walked toward the river and past the Flea Market in the French Quarter. There in a small park is this gilded statue of Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, patron saint of the city, a gift from France in the 1960s. Working my way back through the quarter I rejoined Ellen, and we spent some time in the central courtyard of our hotel reading before going to Neil's brunch.

In the afternoon we thought we'd do one of the many tours offered in the area, and decided on the Swamp Tour. I called and made a reservation and arranged for them to pick us up outside the hotel. We'd be driven miles out of the city to Honey Island Swamp for the tour. We first had to pick up folks from other hotels, and noticed others from Neil's party were going, too. We spoke briefly to Shawna McCarthy, the editor who bought one of Neil's first books, "Good Omens," and said hello to Ellen Datlow, but they ended up taking a different swamp boat, like the one above. Each boat holds about 20 plus the driver/guide, and three boats went out.

The only wildlife we were guaranteed to see were Alligators, and we saw quite a few, this being one of the largest. Our guide offered them marshmallows, though we didn't see any gators take one, they usually slipped into the water and disappeared when we got too close. Alligators don't like people any more than we like them.

These turtles were actually the first wildlife we saw, just across the Pearl River from the dock. The Pearl River divides into different branches as it glides through the swamp here, we only saw a few miles of one branch.

In smaller tributaries the swamp was at its most beautiful, dominated by tall Cypress trees, waterways full of tiny leaved plants similar to duckweed. I don't recall the name of these, but our guide told us they bloom once a year, covering the water with tiny white blossoms, the closest thing to snow most residents ever see.

The plant life up close is varied and fascinating, and would be fun to study more carefully, but the focus of this tour was larger wildlife, and stories about local culture.

This is a Nutria, or as Ellen said, a giant Guinea Pig. They are not native, but were brought in as an attempt to help local fur trade in the nineteenth century. As usual, it was a misguided disaster: the animals' fur turned out to be unwanted, they multiplied like the rodents they are, and unlike native species, they destroy the swamp plants they eat, ruining the ecosystem. There's now a bounty on them to encourage locals to hunt and kill them, which helps some, but there's no danger of the animals being wiped out.

Great Blue Herons were the only birds we saw close up, and they are, of course, wonderful to see. A few other birds were seen flying at a distance, or heard, but this was not a great tour for birdwatchers like us. We enjoyed it, though. Our guide's well-rehearsed patter did fill us in on local life, and the fishing village we passed through, accessible only by boat, was quite interesting to see and learn about, as were the stories of Katrina's impact on the area, which we heard more of from our bus driver on the way out.

It wasn't a bad tour, but perhaps we're spoiled after Yellowstone, where immersion in natural beauty was more impressive and complete. As we were bussed back to our hotel, the sky filled with a gorgeous, colorful sunset to entertain us, and once back we went out for dinner just across from our hotel, and then to an early bed. I'm afraid the joys of bar hopping along Bourbon Street are lost on us. A Mimosa with brunch and a glass of wine with dinner were plenty for me!

I'll have a bit more about our last morning in New Orleans next time.

Brunch with Neil, and many others

Thursday late morning we were invited to join Neil Gaiman and friends for a Jazz Brunch at the Court of Two Sisters on Royal Street in New Orleans' French Quarter. This was a "make your own reservations but well all sit together in the courtyard" affair. Oh, that's Ellen in front. We'd passed the restaurant several times in our wanders through the French Quarter, but somehow forgot exactly where it was when we needed it, but eventually got there.

It was another lovely, sunny, comfortable day, so sitting at tables under umbrellas in the charming open courtyard was delightful. The buffet included all kinds of breakfast and lunch items, and we were soon filling plates of food and enjoying them.

Not all the party guests came to the brunch, but I'd guess there were at least 80. Neil, with family and friends, arrived a bit later, and he was once again very busy visiting around with everyone. I did get to sit down to talk to him, but right then they brought out a piece of cake with lit candles, and Neil was once again serenaded "Happy Birthday," led by the jazz clarinetist. Neil seemed to enjoy the attention and was happily talking, eating and having a fine time this morning. We managed a brief but good chat about some possible upcoming collaborations.

Ellen and I enjoyed the meal, we particularly liked the bread pudding dessert, but it was all fine.

The jazz trio, another somewhat unusual combination, were quite good.

Here's a much better picture (than yesterday's) of Karen Berger and husband Richard Bruning, with Denis Kitchen…

…and Karen and Charles Vess, who I enjoyed sitting with and talking to for a while.

We left around noon, having decided to take a tour in the afternoon. We last saw Neil at our hotel, on his way out to jump out of a plane, the sort of thing I suppose one might do to celebrate a big birthday. Some might, anyway, not me! Perhaps there will be more about that on Neil's blog at some point. I'll post about the rest of our Thursday in New Orleans in a separate post, it's all been fun.

Neil Gaiman's 50th

Neil's 50th birthday party was held at New Orleans' Rosy's Jazz Hall, and I'd guess there were about 150 invited guests. Ellen and I were brought there from our hotel, along with about 10 others, in one of those plush vans with cushy leather bench seats and black-curtained windows that I imagine are used to transport rock bands to concert venues, which was fun, though we couldn't see much of where we were going. Once at Rosy's we were given named lanyard badges by Cat Mihos, one of Neil's assistants, and set free to mingle. Above is the main room with a large bar on one side and a stage for music on the other, tables between, and buffet food catered by Green Goddess of the French Quarter on one side. The food was quite good, and there was plenty of vegetarian choices for Ellen, which haven't been easy to find here generally. We arrived a bit after 6 PM.

There were about 2o people there that I knew from comics, like former DC editor Alisa Kwitney, and DC's Karen Berger and Richard Bruning, above. I talked to them, as well as Paul Levitz, Jackie Estrada, Batton Lash, Charles Vess (and his wife Karen), Michael Zulli, Larry Marder, Bob Schreck, Chip Kidd, Denis Kitchen and I'm sure others I'm forgetting at the moment. There were also groups of people there from the book publishing world, as well as authors, friends from England, the US, and perhaps elsewhere.

Here's the man of the hour, sporting a fine new top hat, bought for him by Amanda earlier that day. As Neil explained, his plan for this party was to gather friends from all different areas of his life and introduce them to each other. He made a point of introducing us to Sharon Steitler, who helps manage his honeybee hives, because she, Ellen and I are "bird people," as he put it. And we enjoyed talking to Sharon about birding in different places, including Cape May. We met and talked to a few other folks we hadn't met before, but as is usually the case with these things, people tended to engage those they already knew mostly. It was a great party, all the same.

In addition to the main room, which was the noisiest, there was an outer couryard, with overlooking balconies…

…and an outside patio, the quietest and most appealing area to us, but unfortunately also the smoking area, so we didn't spend too much time there. One sad bit of news was that Scott McCloud, who we'd run into on the street earlier in the day, hadn't made the party, he was in the hospital with an as yet undiagnosed but painful internal problem, as we heard from his wife Ivy, who came for a while to explain. We wished Scott well and a speedy recovery. We hope to hear news of him soon. I met Amanda Palmer, Neil's fiancé, briefly on the patio, but she was rushing about as busily as Neil, and I'm sure many of the guests were her friend invites, too.

About 9 PM Neil got on the stage to thank everyone, and was given a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday to You" by the crowd, with some pretty good harmony. He said the one flaw in his party plan was that he wanted to be part of every conversation and couldn't. I expect he talked to everyone at some point, though.

Then the band came on, and I'm afraid I didn't catch their name. It was an eclectic group, with the lead vocalist on accordion, a stand-up base, drums, and four horn/woodwind players. The sound was a bluesy/zydeco sort of mix, and I liked it, the only problem being the vocalist was not miked well, and we couldn't understand a word of what he sang.

The party was to midnight, but we left at 10:30, along with about 20 others on a larger bus this time. It was fun, of course it would have been nice to talk to Neil more, but we'll have another chance today at brunch with some of the same folks. We'll see how that goes. A nice evening all around, though.

French Style and the Big Muddy

Walking around New Orleans' French Quarter this morning, here are a few buildings that caught my eye. The prevailing syle is brick structures with large balconies decorated with elaborate ironwork.

Many are used as dining areas for bars and restaurants. This one is similar to where we ate lunch yesterday.

Very different style, but also with a French flavor is the inside of the St. Louis Cathedral.

Late morning we took a two hour river cruise on the Natchez, the only remaining steam-powered paddlewheeler on the Mississippi, so they said.

While we waited to board, we were entertained by a medley of familiar tunes played on the boat's steam calliope.

Soon we were underway, the deck vibrating from the effort of the huge paddlewheel.

You can see the massive engine at work down below, this is only a small part of it. The engine is the oldest part of the boat, salvaged from an older one and put in a new steel body in the 1970s.

It was a fun and relaxing trip, and a good way to get a feel for the surrounding area. The large port was busy, there were historic buildings and monuments, and we passed the notorious 9th ward, flooded by Hurricane Katrina. The idea of living below water level baffles me, but there they are.

In the afternoon we had lunch in another cafe, and visited a National Park information center on the area as well as a few more bookstores. Now we're resting up before getting ready for Neil's party. I expect to blog about that next time.

Walkin' through New Orleans

Almost the title of the Fats Domino hit. We're here for a few days to sightsee, but drawn by a special event invitation. I wasn't going to mention it yet, but Neil already has. We arrived at noon today, and our room wasn't ready yet, so we walked around the French Quarter. Unfortunately I forgot to get my camera out of our bags to bring with me, so no pics, but here are a few from later, after we checked in and went out again. This is St. Louis Cathedral in late afternoon sun. Earlier we had lunch on a second floor balcony overlooking busy Bourbon Street, walked and window shopped on Royal Street, sat a while in Jackson Square, had fresh doughnuts at Cafe du Monde (I can't spell the french word and don't feel like looking it up), found a small bookshop to browse, and had a fine time.

Later I thought it would be fun to ride the St. Charles streetcar through town. Didn't work out so well, as I underestimated how long it would take to get through rush hour downtown, and by the time we got out to the interesting mansions, it was too dark to see much, so we got off and took the next car back. On that one, we saw something unexpected that brought home the New Orleans ethos. An elderly woman was in the front seat, next to the driver. When he came to her stop, he turned off the streetcar, helped her out and down the car steps, then across two busy streets to a bench, I think a bus stop. The woman didn't walk well, and it was an act of great kindness, even if he knew her well, which seems likely. No one on the car said a word, though this took about five minutes.

The French Quarter is full of street musicians, some good, some middling, some excellent. Ellen liked this group we passed walking back to our hotel, doing an old blues number, especially the dog. Picture's out of focus, but I think captures the spirit well.

More later.

And Then I Read: LOCKE & KEY, HEAD GAMES

© Joe Hill & IDW.

This new fantasy/horror series written by Joe Hill is crammed full of great ideas of all kinds.

First, there's the Keys, only a select few of which have been uncovered so far. Each key grants the user an unusual fantasy power, and the characters waste no time using and misusing them. The one on the cover unlocks a person's head…

…opening up a visual landscape where thoughts and knowledge take physical forms that can be moved or removed by reaching in and grabbing them. What a novel concept! The other keys are equally intriguing, like the one that turns the main villain of this story arc, Zack (formerly Luke) from a woman to a man.

Then there are the characters; the Locke family: mother and three kids, their relatives and friends, and the Locke house itself, not to mention the town of Lovecraft, all carefully and skillfully nurtured, made appealing and sympathetic, so that Mr. Hill can do evil, horrible things to them! The villains and minor characters are equally interesting, and there's a subplot revolving around an earlier generation of friends at the local high school that's intriguing.

The plot of this story never sits back, it leaps along through one twist after another, and Hill has clearly developed his backstory thoroughly, allowing bits and pieces of the entire picture to fall into place little by little. While the fantasy is fun, the horror largely grows from the dark places in the characters themselves more than from any external threat, making it all the more creepy.

The art by Gabriel Rodriguez is detailed and accomplished. My one issue with it is that the characters all have similar facial features, especially the mouths and chins, which can be distracting at times. Sure, some of them are related, but even those that aren't seem quite similar. This issue is not unique to Rodriguez, but it's something I wish he would work on. At times it's hard to keep the characters straight, they look so similar, and the level of artistic ability shown elsewhere clearly indicates a wider view of humanity's facial features is within his reach.

That's a minor fault, overall this is a terrific series, and I can't wait to read more. Highly recommended!

And Then I Read: JERRY ROBINSON, AMBASSADOR OF COMICS

Anyone who enjoys delving into comics history will find this new large hardcover book from Abrams a delight. As the title suggests, it's a celebration of the life and work of Jerry Robinson, from his earliest days working with Bob Kane on Batman, where he created The Joker and helped in the creation of many other seminal characters, through his other career ventures into comic strips, editorial cartoons, teaching, starting an international comics syndicate, fine art, advertising, and crusading for social causes like getting justice for Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster as creators of Superman.

What it's not is an in-depth biography, though there is certainly some of that, and Jerry's early days are fun to read about, as are his ever-widening artistic circle of friends, work-mates and industry contacts. But the biographical material is largely anecdotal, stories told by Jerry to the main author, Christopher Couch, and there is little that might be called controversial. Jerry prefers to remember the good times, and who can blame him?

As expected from an Abrams book, there are lots and lots of great examples of Jerry's art, from early covers like this one through many examples of work I'd never heard of like stories featuring the comics hero London and the comic strip "Jet Scott." Many examples of Jerry's later comic strips like "Classroom Flubs and Fluffs," and "Still Life," too. I remember seeing those in the papers, but never connected them to the early Batman artist.

Jerry Robinson's life has, indeed, been an amazing journey through the 20th century and into the 21st, and this book is a wonderful tribute to him and that life. You'll learn a great deal about all kinds of subjects relating to art in this book, and come away with a new appreciation for Jerry, as I did. Highly recommended!

And Then I Read: A GOD SOMEWHERE

© John Arcudi & Peter Snejbjerg.

I almost overlooked this trade paperback from WildStorm. The cover did not impress or appeal to me, the title was vaguely religious but didn't entice me to want to know more. It was the creator credits that caught my attention. I've enjoyed John Arcudi's work in the HELLBOY universe, and Peter Snejbjerg has done some fine work on books fro DC like ANIMAL MAN, THE DREAMING and STARMAN. On that basis I decided to read it.

It begins as many superhero stories do, with an ordinary man suddenly, for no obvious reason, being given superhuman powers. Well, it doesn't quite begin there. Before that we're introduced to three friends, two blonde California brothers and the African American boy, Sam, they befriend in high school by protecting him from some school bullies. Then there's the beautiful woman, Alma, who falls for Hugh, one of the brothers, and marries him, greatly disappointing Eric, the other brother.

As we learn about their lives, the story takes an abrupt turn as as massive, unexplained explosion destroy's Eric's apartment building. Unlike most of the residents, Eric survives without a scratch…and suddenly finds he's super-powered. At first he's amazed, joyful, eager to help others, calling his change a gift from god, but gradually his attitude changes. He becomes arrogant, then cruel, and over time begins to use his powers to punish, kill and destroy rather than help others. Even his own brother and friends are not immune, though they keep trying to reach the old Eric and understand what's happening.

The art and colors by Snejbjerg and Hansen are excellent, light and a bit cartoony where that works, grim and grisly where necessary. The writing is well crafted, the characters are real and appealing, but ultimately I found the story unfulfilling. No reason or even a guess is offered for the change in Eric, other than "madness," which seems too easy an answer. No lesson seems to be forthcoming, other than that sometimes people go bad. In that respect, IRREDEEMABLE by Mark Waid does a much better job of making his hero's turn to the dark side understandable and believable. In this story it seems a random plot choice to me. Yes, it's a tragic story, but tragedy needs reasons behind it to be truly effective, and I don't find them here.

Still a good read, and perhaps I've just missed the point. Mildly recommended.

And Then I Read: BEARSTONE

© Will Hobbs.

Like others of his I've read, this is a book by Hobbs about a troubled teen (a native American this time), Cloyd Atcitty, who is sent for the summer to work on an isolated Colorado ranch owned by Walter Landis, who lives there alone. Walter is old, his wife has died, and even keeping the bare minimum of crops planted is beyond him, so Cloyd's help is welcome. Cloyd is hostile at first, and only after committing some spiteful acts of vandalism on the farm do the two begin to come closer. Cloyd comes to understand Walter better after hearing about the gold mine up in the hills the ranch owner once worked before his wife made him give it up as too dangerous. Cloyd suggests they go reopen the mine together, fulfilling the long postponed dream, and in the wilderness the two are brought even closer as they face hostile elements and wildlife, as well as the dangers of the old mine. Cloyd has found an ancient carved bear, perhaps made by his own people, and takes the bear as his totem, and in the mountains he encounters a grizzly, one of the rare few in the region. Other men are hunting for bears, and Cloyd takes on the extra challenge of misleading them to keep his totem safe, but will he succeed against the wily hunters? And what of Walter, working his mine alone when an explosive charge he set goes wrong?

Will Hobbs always tells an exciting nature-based story with great characters, and this is no exception. Recommended.

And Then I Read: NOAH'S CASTLE

© John Rowe Townsend.

Many of the books for children and young adults by long-time author John Rowe Townsend have elements of social strife: struggles of individuals against the system, or different classes between each other. In this one, he posits an England beset by financial disaster and runaway inflation, similar to what happened in Germany between the world wars. In such a time, all resources, particularly food, become scarce and beyond the means of nearly everyone. The Mortimer family is different, though, thanks to the foresight and single-minded drive of their father, who is determined to protect his family by secretly stocking his basement with enough supplies to last for a few years. What he doesn't foresee are the many side effects of this plan, putting stress on the family, until some members turn against him, putting all of them in danger from looters, black market gangs, angry citizen mobs, and even the government itself. No one can be trusted, everyone is out for himself, and the Mortimer family is soon under siege both psychologically, and eventually, physically. Through it all, Dad refuses to budge from his convictions and plan, while all around him try to keep their lives from total disaster. This is a fascinating "what if," and a chilling look at what happens when society breaks down. It's also a suspenseful, exciting read. Recommended.