S.Q. Eries's Blog, page 15

Graphic Novel Review: The Tankies

I never had much interest in war narratives until I came across Tanya the Evil. It’s a completely fictional isekai, but its war nerd creator did such a wonderful job dramatizing the varied aspects of military conflict that it completely hooked me. Since then, I’ve checked off titles such as Tom Hanks’ Greyhound and the Ken Burns documentary The War from my viewing list. On the graphic novel front, I recently reviewed The Tankies. Read on for the review!

Back Cover Blurb

From the bloody battle for Normandy to the Nazi heartland, from war’s end to the killing fields of Korea, the men of the British Army’s Royal Tank Regiment fight battle after battle against terrible odds. Whether outnumbered or outgunned, the Tankies soldier on–as their motto would have it, “From Mud, Through Blood, to the Green Fields Beyond.”

After D-Day the largely untried Allied armies meet their seasoned German counterparts on the killing grounds of Bocage country. As Panzers and SS units turn the French hedgerows into a slaughterhouse, a lone British tank crew struggles to rejoin their squadron. Their only hope lies in their commander, Corporal Stiles–but does even this wily old trooper stand a chance against the infamous Tiger?

The Review

I recently reviewed another of Garth Ennis’ works, The Night Witches. If you like that work’s military aspect and storytelling style, The Tankies will probably appeal to you. Both books are a collection of three shorter stories that follow a military protagonist. Like The Night Witches, the first two parts of The Tankies take place during World War II, and the third skips ahead to the time of the Korean War. The events just take place on a different front within a different military unit. Whereas The Night Witches follows a female pilot fighting Nazis in the East, The Tankies follows Stiles, a British tank commander fighting towards Germany from the West.

The first part, The Tankies, is set during the Battle of Normandy and centers around a lone tank under the command of veteran Corporal Stiles. While the primary arc is Stiles’ struggle to keep his very green crew out of harm’s way while they seek to rejoin their tank squadron, the story bounces all over the battlefield. From a Red Cross station to the Allied infantrymen waiting for Stiles’ tank squadron to their German opponents, it switches to so many different viewpoints that the storytelling gets a bit disjointed. However, the one thing the narrative pretty much screams is that the German forces, especially their superior tank units, are an insanely tough nut to crack.

The second part, The Firefly and His Majesty, takes place a few months later. Stiles has a different crew and a new more powerful tank, the Firefly. Unlike the first story’s broad view of the battlefield, this one focuses on a game of cat and mouse between Stiles and the commander of a German King Tiger tank. And in order that we have full understanding of what’s happening on both sides, the enemy’s dialogue is translated rather than being left in German like it was in The Tankies.

The final installment, The Green Fields Beyond, has the now Sergeant Stiles in Korea with the kind of tank he’s always dreamed of. However, the Chinese army backing the North Koreans aren’t countering the Allies with tanks. Rather, their objective is to overwhelm with sheer human numbers.

While there’s tons of action (much of which is based on actual events), this book was an insanely slow read for a graphic novel. Part of it has to do with the fact that Ennis relies almost entirely on dialogue to convey information. The Tankies gets a single page of introductory text, and each chapter of The Green Fields Beyond is preceded by a page of information to orient the reader. Other than that, there’s no narration. It’s up to the characters to literally tell us everything that’s happening, which makes for unnaturally info dumpy conversations.

To make things worse, our main character speaks in dialect. Majority of his words are spelled phonetically to emphasize how different he sounds from the rest of the troops. For instance, when he says gunner, it’s spelled “gooner.” As a result, I was forced to sound out most of his dialogue to translate what he was saying, and because he’s the main character, I was stuck with that chore for the entire read. On top of that, we have Stiles’ Geordie slang, general British slang, military terminology, and tank jargon, none of which is defined in the book. As an American with minimal knowledge of war lingo, I was obliged to consult the Internet time and again to figure out what people were talking about.

If you’re able to comprehend this barrage of lingo and dialect, what you get is a masculine war narrative. Masculine because there are no female characters. The key relationships are between Stiles and his newbie subordinates and between Stiles and his enemies. The only woman depicted is a German civilian Stiles asks for information, and she doesn’t even get any lines. And it’s a war narrative because the focus is the conflict between opposing military forces and individual soldier’s decisions in the midst of the resulting chaos and devastation.

Stiles has no identity aside from that as a Tankie. He mentions that he worked at his father’s pub prior to World War II, and that’s all we get of his personal life. Which is fine, because his life on the battlefield is plenty interesting without having to delve into civilian matters. In my opinion, Ennis would’ve done his character a favor if he’d eliminated or downplayed Stiles’ dialect. Combined with Stiles’ stubbly pate and tendency to squint, it makes him come across as cartoonish, a kind of British Army Popeye, and Stiles’ gritty personality is compelling enough on its own without those elements.

In terms of storytelling, the first part is difficult to follow. There are no cues for scene breaks, and all the Normandy settings are so similar that it’s not obvious when a new scene begins. Plus there’s a ton of minor characters, so I was constantly having to reorient myself with everyone’s different situation. The second part is easier to follow because the perspective simply shifts between Stiles and the enemy he’s stalking, and the third is almost entirely from Stiles’ point of view.

Ennis makes the effort to show some diversity within the British ranks. Most of Stiles’ young subordinates are from around London, but his crew in The Firefly and His Majesty includes an Irish driver and a black trooper from Saint Lucia. Oddly, these characters are never singled out for the differentness of their accents the way Stiles is.

Ennis also does not represent the German opposition as a singularly minded fanatical group. While the SS commanders are decisively portrayed as evil, the German cast also includes hapless civilians caught in the crossfire and a conscientious objector to the continued conflict.

Unfortunately, Ennis does not extend this same consideration toward Asians in The Green Fields Beyond. As in The Night Witches, no Korean characters are included in the Korean War arc, despite the fact that the setting is Korea. The British and American characters make disparaging remarks about their Korean allies and mention the sorry predicament of Korean refugees, but Koreans never actually appear on page. The Asians that do appear are the ill-equipped but enormous Chinese forces. Unlike the Germans, there’s no attempt to humanize the Chinese with their perspectives or even dialogue. The resulting impression is that the Allies are fighting off something akin to monsters or insects rather than people.

Extras include Afterword and a collection of sketches.

In Summary

The Tankies is a three-part war narrative centered around a gritty British tank commander. If you have no prior knowledge about World War II, this is not the best place to start. Otherwise, Corporal Stiles’ struggle to contend against a much more experienced and better-equipped enemy makes for good battlefield drama–as long as you’re willing to put up with his difficult to comprehend dialect.

First published in The Fandom Post.

Manga Review: Wolf and Parchment Vol. 1

Holo and Lawrence of the  Spice and Wolf manga series have reached their happy ending, but for those who haven’t gotten enough of the Spice and Wolf world, there’s a spinoff: Wolf and Parchment. Read on for the review of Volume 1. (For reviews of other related works, click here.)

Back Cover Blurb

When Col leaves the cozy mountain village of Nyohhira aspiring to become a full-fledged member of the clergy, a certain impetuous wolf can’t help stowing away aboard his ship to follow him for a chance to have a grand adventure of her own!

The Review

Spice and Wolf was a long-running series where the protagonists, the traveling merchant Lawrence and the wisewolf Holo, ultimately achieve a happy ending. However, loyal fans often want more, and to feed this craving, Hasekura-sensei has created the sequel Wolf and Parchment. Like the original, it’s a travel tale, but the focus has shifted to Holo and Lawrence’s tween daughter Myuri and the former waif Tote Col, who’s now a diligent twenty-five-year-old.

The Wolf and Parchment manga provides bits of background so that those unfamiliar with the Spice and Wolf world get the gist of how beings like Holo and Myuri are viewed and the nature of Col’s relationship to Holo’s family. However, Wolf and Parchment would be best enjoyed after having read Spice and Wolf.

In terms of this new journey, Col, whom Lawrence and Holo met as a wandering student, has continued in his aspirations to study religious scripture. However, the Church has become embroiled in a fierce dispute with the Kingdom of Winfiel over taxes. When the Pope retaliates by suspending all religious services, Col decides to go support the efforts of Winfiel noble Heir Hyland to root out the Church’s corrupt practices. But shortly after sailing away from Lawrence and Holo’s bathhouse inn where he’s lived the last fifteen years, he discovers a stowaway – Myuri.

Unlike Col, Myuri doesn’t have a lofty mission. Rather, she can’t bear to be apart from Col, for whom she bears a puppy dog love. Thus the tone of these travelers’ interactions are very different from Holo and Lawrence’s. Still, they have this in common; Myuri, like her mother, doesn’t hesitate to point out the faults of her chosen male, and Col, very much like Lawrence, bears Myuri’s sass with a long-suffering air.

The original series focused on trade but often incorporated elements of politics and religion. Similarly with the sequel, religious reformation is Col’s pursuit, but he’s already taking political influences into account as he aligns himself with Hyland. And in addition to the economic impacts of the Church tax, Col and Myuri witness the problems caused in Atiph because the Church there has tied up the town’s copper coinage.

While this power struggle is intriguing and I’m interested to see how the crisis over small change will play out, a key element of the story strikes me as baffling: Col’s dedication to the faith. Having interacted with members of clergy at the bathhouse inn, he’s well aware of the hypocrisy among their ranks. Moreover, Holo and Myuri, whom he loves deeply, are beings who’d be condemned as demonic by the Church. It would be one thing if he had a deep connection with the God of the Church, but Col describes that God as one “that had yet to look [his] way.” As such, it’s odd he would devote himself to living out the teachings of such a religion with idealistic zeal rather than calling out the institution’s bald-faced corruption and striving to eliminate it entirely.

However, Hasekura-sensei seems intent on making Col an over-serious stickler to the rules so that Myuri can poke holes into his conviction. And if you’re willing to overlook the baselessness of Col’s faith, you can probably enjoy that exchange.

One more thing. Myuri can’t be more than thirteen, and she’s portrayed with an innocent personality. However, Hidori-sensei at times draws her in provocative positions, which I find distasteful. While Holo at times flaunted her body before Lawrence, it was understood that she was a centuries-old wisewolf who knew exactly what she was doing. Casting a Lolita air over Myuri is unnecessary and taints the feel of the actual [chaste] relationship between Myuri and Col.

Extras include the first six pages in color and commentary from the series’ creators.

In Summary

Fifteen years after Tote Col met a traveling merchant and wisewolf on the road, he sets out on a new journey, this time accompanied by the couple’s daughter Myuri. While religious reformation is Col’s goal, the plot includes interplay between money, politics, and religion as in the original Spice and Wolf series. But instead of Holo’s centuries-old wisdom, we have Myuri’s youthful exuberance, and although the basis of Col’s convictions is somewhat baffling, his serious demeanor provides a good balance to the wolf girl’s impulsiveness.

First published at the Fandom Post.

Manga Review: Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol. #13

The Saga of Tanya the Evil anime was a surprise favorite for me in 2017. With a title like that, I was almost too scared to give it a try, but conniving little Tanya turned out to be nothing like I anticipated. Yen Press has released Volume 13 of the manga adaption, and you can read on for the review. (For my reviews of other Tanya the Evil works, click here.)

Back Cover Blurb

When the Republican Army, led by Lieutenant Colonel Vianto, attacks the imperial supply base of Arene, the Empire’s top brass orders the 203rd to carry out an operation that Tanya herself proposed back in war college—the “Devil’s Protocol.” But what exactly are the fearsome contents of this ominously named plan?

The Review

Volume 13 opens with a brief chapter that wraps up the “shovel raid” arc. Although there’s not much action, it’s full of character development, especially for Lieutenant Grantz. I appreciate how the pages show him digesting the previous night’s events and the veterans’ appraisal of their newbies. These elements, which were glossed over in the novel and totally absent in the anime, do a terrific job of further endearing our characters before we move on to the next arc: Ordeal of Fire.

Lieutenant Colonel Vianto has been aiming to bring down the Empire by stirring up Republican sympathizers in the Imperial hub of Arene, and this arc begins by explaining why the situation is so problematic for the Imperial Army with a flashback to a War College discussion. The exchange lays out the particular dilemma caused by urban warfare and also lends voice to prevailing moral attitudes.

Vianto is relying on International Law to keep the Empire’s hands tied. In other words, he intentionally chose Arene that its civilian population might serve as his shield. However, using a twist of logic, Tanya finds a means to make urban warfare legal, at least in theory. Like her other proposals, Tanya never intends to carry it out herself. She actually hopes her out-of-the-box idea will land her a position as a staff officer. But when the timeline switches back to the present, the joke is once again on her when General Staff gives her orders to execute her own twisted plan.

The setting then shifts to Arene and the commencement of fire. After that, it’s an intense back-and-forth between Imperial and Republican forces. Although Tanya’s mages are elites, Vianto’s aren’t pushovers. Not to mention, they’ve taken measures within Arene to stack things in their favor. The action in some wide-view illustrations is difficult to figure out; with characters the size of ants and everything drawn in black and white, it’s difficult to tell at first glance what’s happening. That aside, Tojo-sensei does an excellent job keeping the clash interesting and allowing individual personalities to shine through. Commander Neumann is especially hilarious as his company’s particular engagement devolves into a contest of which side can throw the most trash at the other.

Extras include world map, battle log thus far, character introductions, country profiles, and detailed glossary of terms between chapters. Unfortunately, the font on the character introductions and country profiles is so small (4 point? 3 point?) that reading it feels like an eye exam.

In Summary

A little bit of everything in this volume. Lieutenant Grantz contemplates his first taste of war; Tanya and her classmates debate the ethics of urban warfare in a War College flashback; then it’s back to the heat of battle as the 203rd takes on Republican mages. Character interactions are delightful, and although some battle illustrations are difficult to follow, Tojo-sensei does an excellent job of keeping it exciting.

First published at the Fandom Post.

 

Manga Review: Beastars Vol. 9

Animal tales are often considered the purview of kids and fun fantasy. However, sometimes you’ll get one like Orwell’s Animal Farm, which is more a commentary about human society. Beastars also falls into that category, and you can read on for my review of Volume 9. (For reviews of other volumes, click here.)

Back Cover Blurb

Gray wolf Legoshi confirms the identity of alpaca Tem’s murderer after a Drama Club member is maimed during rehearsal. In the wake of the incident, the Cherryton Academy administration resolves to segregate classrooms and disband interspecies clubs. The edict causes an uproar, and the absence of red deer Louis’s leadership is keenly felt. However, Bengal tiger Bill and Angora goat Els, as well as gray wolf Juno, gain insight into themselves and their relationships. Plus, a flashback to Legoshi’s tragic childhood and family.

The Review

Itagaki-sensei packs a ton into this volume, starting with a real jaw-dropper of an illustration on the third page of the opening chapter. I won’t give details, but it’s the most shocking thing to happen to the Drama Club since Tem’s murder. In certain respects, it’s worse because the entire club witnesses it. Then before you’ve even had a chance to catch your breath, another bomb drops: Legoshi confronts Tem’s murderer.

Not surprisingly, Legoshi’s boldness lands him in a pinch, but interestingly, it’s pretty boy herbivore Pima that gets him out of it.

Having these two events one after the other leaves you reeling, but the new incident also serves to frame the circumstances of the night Tem was killed. Just as what happens to Kibi is an accident, Tem’s murder wasn’t premeditated. Far from it. Seeing the tragedy unfold from the killer’s viewpoint, while it doesn’t excuse his actions, does evoke sympathy for him.

You’d think this would be sufficient drama for a single volume, but it goes further with Legoshi running afoul of the Shishigumi and their new boss Louis. Itagaki-sensei somehow packs this chance reunion with both tension and hilarity (thanks to Legoshi’s tail). The subsequent dinner between Legoshi and the Shishigumi maintains that engaging interplay of comedy and tension as Louis’s prior and current worlds collide.

The volume closes with Cherryton Academy making an announcement: the separation of herbivore and carnivore students. Given all that’s happened, their decision seems a belated one. Surprisingly, though, it triggers an uproar among the students. But not everyone is against the proposal, and Juno especially can’t comprehend why her classmates want to maintain the status quo.

Extras include the story thus far, the cast of characters, character design notes, bonus comics, and storyboards.

In Summary

There’s never a dull moment in Volume 9! From a new unnerving incident at Cherryton to the sad details behind Tem’s death to Legoshi meeting Louis as the head of the Shishigumi, it hits you with one thing after another. Overall, it’s an exhilarating read with cool developments that have me in eagerly anticipating the next volume.

First published at The Fandom Post.

Just Published: Impromptu Performance!

I tend to set my stories in times long-ago or in places far away. (Or both!) As such, my latest story “Impromptu Performance,” which is featured in the April 2021 issue of Cricket Magazine is a departure from my usual MO.

Click here for a link to the magazine!

My short stories are usually tailored to specific Calls for Submissions, and for this one, the submissions theme was “Yikes!” I don’t know what that word conjures for you, but having volunteered backstage in numerous live productions, I immediately envisioned a stage disaster. And that was the spark that brought about “Impromptu Performance.”

So instead of ancient Greece or 1950s China, the story is set in a modern-day Silicon Valley inspired suburb. And to  suit a middle grade audience, the performance in question is a middle school play.

Compared to my other short stories, this one got written lightning fast. Mainly because it didn’t demand the level of fact- and cultural-checks required by my long ago and far away settings. Not that it was completely spared that, though. However, as it turns out, a member of my critique group Alex Doherty just happens to be married to Stacie Doherty, the managing director of the Portola Valley Theater Conservatory. As such, getting my theater terms vetted out was super easy.

Anyway, it was a fun piece to write, and hope you enjoy reading it!

Manga Review: Golden Japanesque: A Splendid Yokohama Romance Manga Vol. 1

Sweet shojo romances are a perennial favorite of mine, and I’m a sucker for historicals. As such Golden Japanesque: A Splendid Yokohama Romance, instantly piqued my interest. Read on for the review of Volume 1.

Back Cover Blurb

In Meiji-era Japan, sixteen-year-old Maria wishes she can change her appearance. If only her eyes and hair were different, maybe she wouldn’t be met with such fear, and maybe her own mother wouldn’t be so ashamed of her. But when Maria encounters a handsome yet mischievous boy named Rintarou, her understanding of beauty-and herself-begins to change. To him, Maria’s not just pretty; she’s straight out of a fairy tale! A historical romance unfolds on the streets of Yokohama…

The Review

The title Golden Japanesque is a reference to the mixed heritage of Maria, the main character. A resident of the trading port of Yokohama, she was born to a Japanese woman but bears the blonde hair and blue eyes of the Western father she’s never met. The story, an Ugly Duckling/Cinderella mashup, is simplistic, but getting a full grasp of Maria’s struggles requires an understanding of the particular challenges faced by a mixed-race person in Meiji Era Japan.

Japan is an island nation, which means it’s not all that easy for its residents to mingle with other races. On top of that, the Japanese government instituted a policy of self-isolation for decades. That changed when Commodore Perry forced the Japanese to open their ports in the mid-1850s, which allowed Western technology and culture to make inroads into Japan during the subsequent Meiji era. But Western ways weren’t universally accepted in Japan, and acceptance of Western things didn’t necessarily equate to acceptance of Western people.

Thus, Maria’s blonde hair and blue eyes are deemed so different as to be abnormal and considered by some to be bad luck. Maria’s mother has two strikes against her because she is poor and she is unmarried. Having a child with such obviously foreign features is a heavy third strike, thus she forces Maria to dye her hair black and constantly keep her head down.

There is also a more subtle detail of the story that I would’ve completely misinterpreted if not for the translation notes. In Chapter 1, Maria’s unable to read the nameplate of the house of her mother’s new employer. Later, she is unable to read the text of the book she’s asked to deliver. Because of those scenes, I assumed she was illiterate, which made a subsequent scene of Maria in a library really confusing. However, as the translation notes explain, Maria couldn’t read the nameplate and textbook not because she is illiterate, but because the kanji and writing style of those particular items are that obscure (which is something that happens with the Japanese language).

Anyway, if you’re okay with dealing with cultural and historical aspects like these, you can watch a rather straightforward romance unfold between this poor golden-haired Cinderella and her mischievous Prince Charming.

And he is a mischief-maker. Rintarou is the son of the rich family that employs Maria’s mother. Although he’s fifteen years old, he pulls a grade-school-type prank on Maria – twice. However, he also has an appreciation for Western things, thanks to his father’s business interactions with foreigners. So when he discovers Maria’s true hair color, he’s not repulsed. Rather he’s captivated.

By the end of Volume 1, the “Splendid Yokohama Romance” hasn’t gotten very far. But for Maria, who’s been bullied by boys all her life because of her coloring, having Rintarou call her pretty is earth-shattering. And even though the main couple has barely gotten started, Miyasaka-sensei’s already laid the groundwork for challenges aplenty to the relationship.

Extras include translation notes and Volume 2 preview.

In Summary

A poor, mixed-race girl catches the attention of a rich man’s son in Meiji Era Yokohama. This is a historical series so it will require you to be cognizant of the social mindset of the time as you read. However, if you’re good with that, you can watch the romance unfold between a somewhat gloomy Cinderella and an at-times immature Prince Charming.

First published at the Fandom Post.

Manga Review: The Dark History of the Reincarnated Villainess Vol. #1

Isekai has really overtaken the anime/manga scene the last several years. My Next Life As A Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! added a fresh twist to the genre by reincarnating the main character into the antagonist role. With the series’ success, it’s no surprise similar titles would rise in its wake. The Dark History of the Reincarnated Villainess is one such story. Read on for my review of Volume 1.

Back Cover Blurb

Konoha Satou has a dark history. Although she’s not the only middle schooler who’s dreamed about romance and adventure, Satou takes it to the next level when she writes herself into a reincarnation fic as the main heroine. But little does she know, her fantasies will become reality when she wakes up in her Dark History! There’s just one small complication…Instead of playing the role of heroine, she’s the most despicable villainess—Konoha’s little sister, Iana. Which means if she wants to avoid tripping her own death flags, she’ll have to remember every last detail of her story.

The Review

Unlike many isekai where the main character is reborn/soul-dropped into a videogame world or an unknown landscape, Konoha Satou winds up in a story she herself created. A borderline shut-in when she was a teenager, she actually believed she’d one day be transported to a fantasy world and spent her days writing out the adventures that she, as the angelic heroine, would undergo. Lo and behold, it actually happens – except she’s reincarnated not as the story’s heroine Konoha but the protagonist’s villainous younger sister Iana.

Thus the main character is indeed transported with the ironic twist that she’s having to avoid the death flags she herself planted. What makes her task more difficult is that the Iana character didn’t last beyond Chapter 1 in her story. Apparently, Iana gets caught for her misdeeds in the prologue and is subsequently offed by Sol, a butler intensely loyal to the heroine. Thus the meat of the plot is the main character trying to show she’s not at all evil and protect the heroine (so she won’t get blamed for any ill that falls upon her).

While that aspect of the story is somewhat entertaining, especially the other characters’ misinterpretations of the main character’s actions, the plot is rather predictable, and the supporting cast is one-dimensional. Although the main character is not exactly flat, she is difficult to relate to. An aspect of her that I found particularly troubling is her almost cavalier attitude toward sexual assault. The main character wrote the story with herself as the heroine and with full belief that she’d actually live out its events. However, she has her heroine raped in Chapter 1 and then sexually assaulted in Chapter 2. Illustrations aren’t overly graphic but this offhand treatment of a serious subject means I won’t be recommending this title to my friend’s thirteen-year-old daughter.

The manga also contains a noticeable amount of fanservice. Not of the guys (although they are definitely eye candy in their dapper European-style suits) but the females. Judging from the bonus material, Dark History was published in Lala, but despite it being a shojo magazine, Konoha’s large bosom is the stuff of male fantasies. Iana’s chest is more normal sized, but she’s constantly flashing leg up to her stocking garter despite her long skirts. The rest of the illustrations (flower-filled backdrops, enormous sparkly eyes, etc.) are more in line with standard shojo artwork.

Volume 1 only serves up three chapters before concluding with a fifty-page standalone story. “The High School Necromancer” is a paranormal set in the Meiji Era with a male lead and rival. The plot and action are a little difficult to follow, but if you like bishounen in period clothes, it will give you something nice to look at.

Extras include translation notes, author’s afterword, and four-panel comic strips.

In Summary

The villainess subset of the isekai genre has been gaining steam as of late. Unfortunately, Dark History feels like a weak pretender rather than a strong representative of that category. While Iana’s efforts to avoid triggering death flags is amusing, the plot is predictable, the premise is lukewarm, and most characters are woefully flat.

First published at the Fandom Post.

Nonfiction Review: TV Milestone Series: Batman: The Animated Series

 

I’ve always enjoyed animation more than live-action, but in the 1990s, my preferences decidedly shifted to anime. American cartoons seemed unsophisticated and childish in comparison, and it was a rare domestic production that could hold my attention. One of those rarities was Batman: The Animated Series (BTAS), and academic Joe Sutliff Sanders recently published a study on the series. Read on for the review.

Back Cover Blurb

It’s possible that no other version of Batman has been more influential than the one that debuted as a children’s cartoon in 1992. For millions of fans around the world, the voices of Batman and the Joker introduced in Batman: The Animated Series (BTAS) remain the default. The characters, designs, and major themes of the show went on to shape other cartoons, films, and bestselling video games. In this study, Joe Sutliff Sanders argues that BTAS is not only a milestone of television but a milestone in the public persona of one of the most recognizable characters in the world.

The Review

Batman: The Animated Series (BTAS) was a landmark production. It was dark, dramatic, and possessed an innovative visual style that set it apart from anime and its mainstream American counterparts. As part of Wayne State University Press’ TV Milestone Series, Joe Sutliff Sanders delves into the different aspects of that hit show from an academic perspective.

Let me repeat–an academic perspective.

This isn’t a light read or a glossy coffee table book. It’s a text-heavy paperback slightly larger than my palm. It contains twenty black-and-white images (four of which are not from the TV show) that function as references, not splash art. While there are some behind the scenes anecdotes, like the Days of Our Lives sketch that led to the creation of Harley Quinn, most of the book is devoted to a detailed analysis of the series’ “Dark Deco” style, themes that shaped the characters and storylines, and how the cartoon both reflected and commented upon 1990s society. In other words, it’s the type of study normally associated with college-level literature classes.

Not that it’s a bad thing. When I was growing up, cartoons weren’t considered worthy of this kind of academic consideration. It’s a nice sign of the times that TV shows, comics, and cartoons have gained legitimacy in scholarly circles.

In terms of the actual content of the book, it opens with an introduction that lays out the state of the Batman franchise at the time BTAS was created, the talent and producers involved, and the shows that sprang in its wake. Sanders then delves into three topics in three separate chapters.

The first chapter, “The Shadow of the World’s Fair,” explores the visuals of the show. Branded “Dark Deco” by its creators, it draws heavily on the early twentieth-century Art Deco style. Sanders assumes readers have a high level of familiarity with the show, which becomes immediately apparent at the beginning of Chapter 1 where he spends eight pages deconstructing BTAS’s iconic opening. This section is fairly engaging and insightful, but in the second half of the chapter, Sanders insists upon pointing out a “mistake in these universal allusions to Art Deco.” Namely that the artwork featured in BTAS was not so much Art Deco as it was streamlining. Not having studied art history, I hadn’t heard of streamlining (though I recognized the style once Sanders put up some examples). He goes on to argue how Art Deco stood for elitist excess while streamlining embodied middle-class efficiency and how those two philosophies conflict through their on-screen representations in BTAS. At that point, Sanders’s discourse not only felt over my head but like he was making a mountain over a very small molehill.

I got a similar feeling from Chapter 3, “Harley Quinn, Victimhood, and Blame.” As you might guess, the subject matter is Harley Quinn, who is, according to one source, “more popular than every DC character except Batman.” The chapter begins with Harley Quinn’s creation and popularity, then proceeds to discuss female representation in the BTAS cast and the influence of the women who worked on the show. The first part of Chapter 3 is pretty fascinating from a layperson’s perspective. Midway through the chapter, however, Sanders purports Harley Quinn is a “feminist villain” and proceeds to discuss how her portrayal reflects the strife between left- and right-wing feminists in the 1990s. Despite being a female university student during the 1990s, this internal conflict within the feminist movement wasn’t one I had prior knowledge of (probably because I was toiling away in my engineering classes). To hear Sanders describe it, the feminists of that time period were a fractured group, consumed with quibbling over labels like victim and abuse, and he contends that Harley Quinn’s actions and personality highlights different aspects of that debate. That presentation of Harley Quinn didn’t particularly resonate with or interest me, but it might to someone more knowledgeable with the feminist history.

Chapter 2, however, is much more digestible and comprehensible for the casual reader. “Bruce Wayne vs. the ‘Simpering Elite’” discusses BTAS’s different representations of wealth and the wealthy and how Bruce Wayne with his particular childhood trauma stands apart from his monied peers. Unlike Chapters 1 and 3, you don’t need an art or political history background to understand the points of this discussion. If Sanders’ intent was to make the book accessible to more than just historians or media scholars, it would’ve behooved him to write more of the book like Chapter 2. As it stands, his work feels more like fodder for extremely hard-core Batman fans or media studies majors.

In Summary

BTAS was a milestone of television, and now it gets true highbrow treatment as a University of Cambridge scholar puts it through academic analysis. There’s no full-color illustrations or exclusive interviews here. Rather, it contains critical analyses about artistic, social, cultural, and political influences. So if you want an exposition on BTAS the way a university-level literature class might dissect a 19th-century Russian novel, Sanders’ work is worth a try.

First published in The Fandom Post.

Nonfiction Review: The Liberation of Marguerite Harrison: America’s First Female Foreign Intelligence Agent Review

American history has traditionally been written from a largely white and male-centric lens, but modern historians and researchers have been making strides to highlight the experiences and contributions of people of color and women. The recently released The Liberation of Marguerite Harrison is the culmination of one such study. Read on for the review.

Back Cover Blurb

In September 1918, World War I was nearing its end when Marguerite E. Harrison, a thirty-nine-year-old Baltimore socialite, wrote to the head of the U.S. Army’s Military Intelligence Division (MID) asking for a job. The director asked for clarification. Did she mean a clerical position? No, she told him. She wanted to be a spy.

Harrison, a member of a prominent Baltimore family, usually got her way. She had founded a school for sick children and wangled her way onto the staff of the Baltimore Sun. Fluent in four languages and knowledgeable of Europe, she was confident she could gather information for the U.S. government. The MID director agreed to hire her, and Marguerite Harrison became America’s first female foreign intelligence officer.

The Review

The title The Liberation of Marguerite Harrison can be interpreted in a couple of ways. Liberation can refer to the way Harrison bucked early twentieth-century social conventions to roam the world in her very unusual field of work. Liberation can also refer to the fact that Harrison got caught by the Soviets and had to be bailed out of a Russian prison – twice.

I haven’t studied spies or journalists, so I’d never heard of Margaret Harrison prior to this book. Her main claim to fame is that she was the United States’ first female foreign intelligence officer. Most of what is known about her comes from her 1935 biography (which is referenced repeatedly throughout this book). However, that work apparently omitted and distorted key aspects of her espionage activities. What the author Atwood has done is to delve into documents from the United States National Archives and the Russian Federal Security Bureau that are now available to researchers and use them to paint a different and often contradictory picture of Harrison’s life.

The initial chapters focus on Harrison’s family background, her upbringing and marriage as a Baltimore socialite, and her career as a journalist following her husband’s death. Most of these pages are based off Harrison’s autobiography and supplemented by details from newspaper social pages or newspaper articles Harrison wrote. The chapters establish that Harrison was a woman of privilege who was only able to accomplish what she did because of her connections. For instance, she was fluent in four languages because her family vacationed in Europe every summer. After her husband died, she immediately got a job as assistant society editor of the Baltimore Sun despite having no writing experience. She didn’t even know how to operate a typewriter. However, she got in through the door because she was a friend of one of the newspaper’s owners.

As a result of this opportunity, Harrison eventually got assigned to writing articles promoting America’s efforts in World War I, which was taking place at the time, and became interested in foreign affairs. She made up her mind that she wanted to be a spy, and thanks again to personal connections (this time her father-in-law), she got hired to be a Military Intelligence Division (MID) foreign agent and was sent to Europe shortly after the end of the war.

It should be noted that Harrison wasn’t the sort of spy who went in disguise under assumed names. Rather, she used her real name and social connections to obtain access to those in power and used her job as a journalist as an excuse to ask questions and conduct interviews. Some of this information went into newspaper articles; the rest went into MID reports. The chapters about Harrison’s espionage years lay out the details of her activities, and where records conflict, which they often do, the author offers conjectures for the discrepancies in details.

As with journalism, Harrison had no training in espionage, and in winging it, she made major mistakes. She blew her cover to her roommate, female British journalist Stan Harding, because she left scraps of reports around their apartment. She was indiscreet in the way she conducted herself and wound up caught by the Soviets and coerced into becoming a double agent. However, she managed that task so poorly the Soviets eventually threw her into prison. Even her claim to fame as the only American woman to survive the infamous Lubyanka Prison is a dubious compliment. One might argue she was the only American woman foolish enough to wind up there. Moreover, Stan Harding also survived detention there, and Harding only wound up there because Harrison fed the Soviets inaccurate information about Harding being a spy. Yet the narrative for some reason continually describes Harrison as a prized and valuable agent.

While Harrison definitely led a unique life, it reeks of privilege. She went into espionage because she was bored and wanted excitement. When she got caught, she had relatives in high political positions to petition for her release. Not even five years after she got out of Lubyanka, she wound up there a second time because she couldn’t give up playing at espionage, and again, she got out through the efforts of a distant relation with Russian connections.

Subsequent to her second release, she became part of a collaboration with Merian Cooper and Ernest Schoedsack, two men who would eventually go on to create the King Kong film. Harrison’s project with them, however, was Grass, a kind of docudrama about a Persian tribe’s search for pasture. While their footage was eventually turned into a feature film, the film project was also a cover for the three to gather intelligence for the United States at a time that Britain, America, and Russia were competing over control of Persia’s oilfields. This chapter draws from the writings of Harrison, Cooper, and Schoedsack, and as in the chapters about Europe, Atwood points out differences in their narratives and offers conjectures for discrepancies and omissions.

Harrison’s life after the release of Grass is quickly wrapped up in a single chapter. Although this period spans forty-two years, Atwood doesn’t offer many details about Harrison’s second marriage, her son and grandchildren, or how she died in possession of a sizable estate despite her inability to hold a steady job or manage finances. The focus of the book is Harrison’s time as an agent, an opportunity I can’t help but think should’ve gone to someone more capable and deserving.

The book includes several black-and-white photos of Harrison and the people in her life, footnotes, bibliography, and index.

In Summary

Despite being the first woman in her field, Marguerite Harrison isn’t exactly an inspiring trailblazer. Although the author continually presses the point that Harrison was an agent valued by her superiors, the anecdotes in the text paint her as a bored socialite who had all the right connections, but not necessarily the right skills. Still, Harrison did lead a unique life, and for those interested in how espionage was conducted by the United States in the early twentieth century, this book might prove valuable.

First published in The Fandom Post.

 

Nonfiction Review: Whaling Captains of Color: America’s First Meritocracy

American history has traditionally been written from a white and largely male-centric lens, but modern historians and researchers have been making strides to highlight the experiences and contributions of other people groups. The recently released Whaling Captains of Color is the culmination of one such study. Read on for the review.

Back Cover Blurb

The history of whaling as an industry on this continent has been well-told in books, including some that have been bestsellers, but what hasn’t been told is the story of whaling’s leaders of color in an era when the only other option was slavery. Whaling was one of the first American industries to exhibit diversity. A man became a captain not because he was white or well connected, but because he knew how to kill a whale. Along the way, he could learn navigation and reading and writing. Whaling presented a tantalizing alternative to mainland life.

The Review

In 2014, Skip Finley wrote a magazine article about William A. Martin, a black whaling captain who was based in Martha’s Vineyard. In researching this historical figure, Finley became fascinated by the history of people of color in the American whaling industry and did a deep dive into the subject. Whaling Captains of Color: America’s First Meritocracy is the result.

Like many historical narratives, the role of nonwhites has been downplayed or omitted in the annals of whaling. For instance, Finley mentions that William Crapo, founder of the Old Dartmouth Historical Society, insisted that the whaleman statue outside the New Bedford Public Library “depict a fair-skinned Yankee harpooner instead of a Gay Head Indian, a black man, or a Cape Verdean, even though they performed overwhelmingly in that role.” By delving into ship lists, logs, and genealogies, Finley brings to light the contributions and lives of people of color and the factors that led to their participation in such a dangerous occupation. And it was dangerous. The text mentions at least twice that whaling was America’s second most hazardous occupation. (Only mining was more dangerous).

However, in its early years, whaling was opportunity. In an era before petroleum, whale oil was the world’s energy source. And in pre-Civil War years, when discrimination against nonwhites abounded, a whaling ship was a rare place where a man of color could not only command respect but make his fortune.

The first part of the book details the oppression faced by blacks, Native Americans, and those of mixed blood in colonial and pre-Civil War America. It then describes the whaling industry and what life on board a whaler entailed. The book concludes with the slow decline of the industry. Even as petroleum replaced whale oil and plastic replaced whalebone, opportunities opened up for black Americans, and they left whalers to be replaced by Cape Verdeans, whose homeland was hit by multiple disasters in the nineteenth century.

While this book contains a lot of information about social conditions, the whaling industry, and individual whalemen of color, its organization leaves something to be desired. Scattered through the chapters are over fifty mini biographies of whaling captains and seamen. However, the context for fully appreciating their circumstances isn’t presented in the clearest fashion. In fact, Chapter 1 is simply a set of biographies (of a group of related captains) without any context other than what can be gleaned from the biographies themselves. The text has a tendency to refer to things in passing then discuss them in detail much later. For instance, numerous mentions are made of the Wampanoag in the first few chapters, but it’s not until page 90 that a description of that people group is provided. Overall, the book lacks a strong narrative arc and reads like a combined “Who’s Who” and encyclopedia of whaling.

Not to say that the book is without interesting moments. For instance, the biography of Henry John Gonzalez, the last known captain of color, includes colorful anecdotes connected to an Arctic expedition. However, information on the vast majority of whalemen are limited to countries of origin, birth and death dates, the ships they sailed in, and possibly a bit of genealogy, and the lack of detail unfortunately makes them less memorable. The way the biographies are ordered within the text also comes across as haphazard; if a system was used to designate their place in the book, it isn’t clear at all.

Ultimately, the book reads like an academic reference and probably will serve as a valuable resource to researchers. While there are no maps to orient the geography-challenged, there are tables aplenty detailing whaling data mined from various sources. Probably the strongest indicator that this was written for academics is the final chapter which closes with a series of blurbs about whalemen that Finley thought deserved additional study.

In Summary

This is definitely a scholarly text. While it contains information worthy of preserving for posterity, this is not a layperson’s text. Portions may prove handy for a student writing a history report or a genealogy study, but it is not a cover to cover read for the casual reader.

First published in The Fandom Post.