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The Waste Land
L.A. private eye Christopher Marlowe is searching for his dead partner's killers. In his wanderings in a nightmare world of literary allusions he meets a range of characters including T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound.
74 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1990
3 people are currently reading
100 people want to read
About the author
Martin Rowson
54 books26 followersBaptised as Martin George Edmund Rowson. Who's Who lists his interests as "cooking, drinking, ranting, atheism, zoos, collecting taxidermy".
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
May 30, 2024
Martin Rowson mashes together The Waste Land with crime noir (especially The Big Sleep and Maltese Falcon). It's bizarre and difficult to comprehend. It does inspire me to go watch those two movies again soon!
I read the non-Penguin edition which unfortunately had to remove any quotes from The Waste Land - UK copyright doesn't recognize parody like the US. I'd be interested in reading the version that does have more direct quotes and references to The Waste Land although I'm not sure I'd understand it any better.
I read the non-Penguin edition which unfortunately had to remove any quotes from The Waste Land - UK copyright doesn't recognize parody like the US. I'd be interested in reading the version that does have more direct quotes and references to The Waste Land although I'm not sure I'd understand it any better.
December 1, 2019
First off, I gather from some reviewers that this Penguin edition, and not the Seagull Books reprint that omits much of Eliotic Waste Land content, is the one to read. Pity that the Penguin isn't more generally available. If you're buying, get a used Penguin edition from abebooks, not the Seagull edition everyone resents.
I wavered between 4 and 5 stars and opted for latter. "Clever" seldom merits the highest praise, but Rowson is here supremely clever, unobtrusively learned, and even if the plotline of his Raymond Chandler/Dashiell Hammett-inspired literary thriller/dingus-quest breaks down in places and leads to puzzlement rather than illumination, author/penciler/inker/letterer Rowson is neverless a sui generis kind of "sequential art" (Will Eisner's term of choice) narrative genius. At points, he genuinely illuminates Eliot's poem, has clearly studied the Eliotic canon and worked nuggets of Prufrock, Sweeney, Four Quartets, etc. into his Waste Land, which, in its illustrations alone, hits Eliot's despairing mark. Rowson also incorporates (often forcing in) large chunks of Eliot's distinctive words and phrases - "in the room the women come and go...", e.g. - that generations now of smarty pants routinely toss off (and wait for others to complete).
I also immensely enjoyed Rowson's large cast of walk-on cameos, beautifully rendered by the artist's distinctive hand, and was delighted to find he provides a key for all the cluttered panels (save one: the last) in the penultimate concluding page.
So Bravo! Love Rowson's work, his Tristram Shandy, his editorial cartoons, and look forward to more of him.
I wavered between 4 and 5 stars and opted for latter. "Clever" seldom merits the highest praise, but Rowson is here supremely clever, unobtrusively learned, and even if the plotline of his Raymond Chandler/Dashiell Hammett-inspired literary thriller/dingus-quest breaks down in places and leads to puzzlement rather than illumination, author/penciler/inker/letterer Rowson is neverless a sui generis kind of "sequential art" (Will Eisner's term of choice) narrative genius. At points, he genuinely illuminates Eliot's poem, has clearly studied the Eliotic canon and worked nuggets of Prufrock, Sweeney, Four Quartets, etc. into his Waste Land, which, in its illustrations alone, hits Eliot's despairing mark. Rowson also incorporates (often forcing in) large chunks of Eliot's distinctive words and phrases - "in the room the women come and go...", e.g. - that generations now of smarty pants routinely toss off (and wait for others to complete).
I also immensely enjoyed Rowson's large cast of walk-on cameos, beautifully rendered by the artist's distinctive hand, and was delighted to find he provides a key for all the cluttered panels (save one: the last) in the penultimate concluding page.
So Bravo! Love Rowson's work, his Tristram Shandy, his editorial cartoons, and look forward to more of him.
May 29, 2019
First off, this is not the kind of book you get for a casual read. I did that and was completely lost. The story is nonsensical and reading multiple times doesn't necessarily help...UNLESS you know that the book is based on the poem of the same name by T. S. Eliot. I didn't learn this until Rowson's notes at the end.
So after reading the poem (and a lot of analyses of the poem), I reread this comic book with fresh eyes. Knowing the poem does make the comic more interesting. You notice Martin Rowson's references back to the poem and it (kind of) makes sense why he chose to write a noir. The story still doesn't make a lick of sense, but that's the point. Sort of. I think. Who knows.
So for what this story is, and considering that I had never heard of the T.S. Eliot poem, two stars actually feels pretty generous.
So after reading the poem (and a lot of analyses of the poem), I reread this comic book with fresh eyes. Knowing the poem does make the comic more interesting. You notice Martin Rowson's references back to the poem and it (kind of) makes sense why he chose to write a noir. The story still doesn't make a lick of sense, but that's the point. Sort of. I think. Who knows.
So for what this story is, and considering that I had never heard of the T.S. Eliot poem, two stars actually feels pretty generous.
February 23, 2013
After numerous rereadings I still think this is the best analysis, parody, commentary and tribute to 'The Wasteland' that has been written. And given the mountains of critical 'writing' piled on that poem that is an extravagant claim.
The standard critical approach to 'The Wasteland' is to cast the reader as a detective who must hunt for the clues which will give the poem coherence; the irony being the only coherence the poem has to offer is the reader's search for it.
Rowsom's comic performs this search for meaning in grainy panels as the detective/reader threads the grim streets of Waste Land London looking for answers to a baffling case. Along the way he encounters most of the characters in the poem in a stream of verbal and visual puns, allusions, and references some of which are laugh out loud funny. The cast includes most of the modernist writers, mostly as extras crowding in seedy bars though at one point Yeats appears as the mandolin player doing a bad version of Cole porter's 'Let's fall in love'.
So Chris Marlowe, who may be a refugee from a Chandler novel or a decadent Renaissance poet down on his luck, suffering the obligatory attack of intertexuality, over blown similes, drunkenness and general incompetence (the latter characterised neither of his namesakes) sets out to find the murderer of his partner, who was gunned down in Rats Alley in the prologue. He finds himself in the poem, Shanghied to London, trying to make sense of a case which may or may not involve the Holy Grail.
At the end of the case, whose solution is no solution, (which would have delighted Chandler), a frustrated Marlowe does what readers of the poem have wanted to do for generations: he holds up T.S. Eliot at gun point and demands answers! Eliot, of course, responds to his questions by quoting the notes from the poem until they are interrupted by a dismissive Ezra Pound.
The comic comes with its own end notes, which are as pointless as Eliot's, but much more entertaining.
(Apparently trouble with Eliot's estate led to a revised version: this review is for the original.)
The standard critical approach to 'The Wasteland' is to cast the reader as a detective who must hunt for the clues which will give the poem coherence; the irony being the only coherence the poem has to offer is the reader's search for it.
Rowsom's comic performs this search for meaning in grainy panels as the detective/reader threads the grim streets of Waste Land London looking for answers to a baffling case. Along the way he encounters most of the characters in the poem in a stream of verbal and visual puns, allusions, and references some of which are laugh out loud funny. The cast includes most of the modernist writers, mostly as extras crowding in seedy bars though at one point Yeats appears as the mandolin player doing a bad version of Cole porter's 'Let's fall in love'.
So Chris Marlowe, who may be a refugee from a Chandler novel or a decadent Renaissance poet down on his luck, suffering the obligatory attack of intertexuality, over blown similes, drunkenness and general incompetence (the latter characterised neither of his namesakes) sets out to find the murderer of his partner, who was gunned down in Rats Alley in the prologue. He finds himself in the poem, Shanghied to London, trying to make sense of a case which may or may not involve the Holy Grail.
At the end of the case, whose solution is no solution, (which would have delighted Chandler), a frustrated Marlowe does what readers of the poem have wanted to do for generations: he holds up T.S. Eliot at gun point and demands answers! Eliot, of course, responds to his questions by quoting the notes from the poem until they are interrupted by a dismissive Ezra Pound.
The comic comes with its own end notes, which are as pointless as Eliot's, but much more entertaining.
(Apparently trouble with Eliot's estate led to a revised version: this review is for the original.)
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December 19, 2021Just superb. Hilarious and detailed to perfection. T.S. Eliot meets Raymond Chandler.
March 20, 2025
2 for plot, 4 for illustrations
December 8, 2018
Rowson presents a hard-nosed dick buried in sleaze with incredible art but weighs it down with way too much outside reference.
This is the L.A. Detective Film Noir version of the T.S. Elliot poem of the same name. The problem there is that it queers up the whole thing making it incredibly confusing as he attests to at the end in his notes.
BUT- for what it is, he exhibits the noir film in genre perfection! The cast of characters is fun because it's more than half composed of those who had to do with Elliot or those movies. His art is stunning, evocative and delirious! HE IS AN INCREDIBLE ARTIST IN THE SEQUENTIAL MEDIUM yet he has done little within. His art is drastically powerful and he employs it almost always towards one panel caricatures?!?
Another thing that makes me angry at Rowson is that he is an overbearing show-off. When it comes to literature he has apparently read EVERYTHING and insists you know it. THAT"S ABSOLUTELY FINE (and even makes me jealous) IF done appropriately but he high-brows low-brow sleazy content which dominates his entire oeuvre. Another example is his four books spanning the entirety of literature put in the most buttlipped of Limericks. He leaves references so densely in his work that one can't understand what they are reading because they haven't read this-that and the-other-thing! To top it off he supposes that readers have any the knowledge or interest in translating the six languages which compromise a huge chunk of his notes.
But his description in the back of the book drawn by himself is very brief but makes sure to mention that he dropped out of University so WE GET IT sMARTIN highbROWSON you still achieved without college and did it well enough to be slyly smug about it.
This is the L.A. Detective Film Noir version of the T.S. Elliot poem of the same name. The problem there is that it queers up the whole thing making it incredibly confusing as he attests to at the end in his notes.
BUT- for what it is, he exhibits the noir film in genre perfection! The cast of characters is fun because it's more than half composed of those who had to do with Elliot or those movies. His art is stunning, evocative and delirious! HE IS AN INCREDIBLE ARTIST IN THE SEQUENTIAL MEDIUM yet he has done little within. His art is drastically powerful and he employs it almost always towards one panel caricatures?!?
Another thing that makes me angry at Rowson is that he is an overbearing show-off. When it comes to literature he has apparently read EVERYTHING and insists you know it. THAT"S ABSOLUTELY FINE (and even makes me jealous) IF done appropriately but he high-brows low-brow sleazy content which dominates his entire oeuvre. Another example is his four books spanning the entirety of literature put in the most buttlipped of Limericks. He leaves references so densely in his work that one can't understand what they are reading because they haven't read this-that and the-other-thing! To top it off he supposes that readers have any the knowledge or interest in translating the six languages which compromise a huge chunk of his notes.
But his description in the back of the book drawn by himself is very brief but makes sure to mention that he dropped out of University so WE GET IT sMARTIN highbROWSON you still achieved without college and did it well enough to be slyly smug about it.
June 27, 2024
I got this cheap in the graphic novel section of a local used book store, and let me tell you, it was still overpriced. For some strange reason the interior black and white artwork looked decent when I flipped through it in the bookstore. Art can be clever or it can be smart. When it is clever, it is creative and intelligent in a way that can speak to everybody, but intelligent folks can get a little more out of it. When it's smart, it usually when the writer or artist tries too hard to impress folks with his/her knowledge on a subject. The latter is always a chore to experience, and never enjoyable. The Waste Land is the latter.
April 12, 2018
Killer illustrations, but I couldn't make heads or tails of the plot. Very quick read.
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July 21, 2020The best comic book based on the Wasteland I have ever read!
January 22, 2024
O traço permanece rico e hipnótico, no entanto, a trama se revelou impossível de ser acompanhada por mim, e as referências ao poema de T.S. Eliot, incompreensíveis. Uma pena.
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August 7, 2024What the hell did I just read??
June 12, 2015
This is not a blend of genres that I would normally apply to a single book, but this volume is a mashup of T.S. Eliot and Raymond Chandler, a thing you don't see every day, and with good cause.
While it's a treat on many levels, it's also as wild and disconnected as either of the two, only multiplied by a plethora of cameos. With Mary Astor as a dangerous dame and Sydney Greenstreet looking for the Grail, the story is as complex as a killing someone with a tuna. You can do it, but it's not the best way, and nobody will be happy with the results.
The notes at the end of the book are worth the effort. I do wish that the creator had proofread his lettering a little better, as a gag loses its some of its punch if the word is misspelled.
While it's a treat on many levels, it's also as wild and disconnected as either of the two, only multiplied by a plethora of cameos. With Mary Astor as a dangerous dame and Sydney Greenstreet looking for the Grail, the story is as complex as a killing someone with a tuna. You can do it, but it's not the best way, and nobody will be happy with the results.
The notes at the end of the book are worth the effort. I do wish that the creator had proofread his lettering a little better, as a gag loses its some of its punch if the word is misspelled.
June 2, 2019
The illustrations alone make this a 5-star effort. Imagine a train wreck between The Maltese Falcon, Chandler's Philip Marlowe, and T.S. Eliot's poem, The Waste Land! This book is the result.
Rowson knows Eliot, Hammett and Chandler forward and backward. And he's got a raunchy, scratchy, pen & ink style to complement his sources.
This is one of the best comic-book noir efforts I've seen.
I read somewhere that one should avoid the British edition. I have the Harper & Row Perennial paperback (a U.S. publication) from 1990. Apparently, British copyright law has little or no exceptions for parody, so the British edition was altered to avoid a lawsuit.
Rowson knows Eliot, Hammett and Chandler forward and backward. And he's got a raunchy, scratchy, pen & ink style to complement his sources.
This is one of the best comic-book noir efforts I've seen.
I read somewhere that one should avoid the British edition. I have the Harper & Row Perennial paperback (a U.S. publication) from 1990. Apparently, British copyright law has little or no exceptions for parody, so the British edition was altered to avoid a lawsuit.
March 21, 2011
A brilliant satire, both of Eliot, and Modernist literature in general, but also of Chandler and the cliches and tropes of Chandlerian private detective fiction. Rowson knows the material well, peppering the story with numerous allusions to the literature, as well as images from classic films of the '30s and '40s.
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April 12, 2013Just read The Waste Land by Martin Rowson, an interesting graphic novel parody of T.S. Elliot's The Waste Land featuring characters and story lines of Raymond Chandler's detective novels.
June 20, 2017
The art style is a little to dark for my taste and the story seems to jump all over the place. If you're a fan of noir and T.S. Elliot than you might enjoy it but otherwise I wouldn't recommend it.
January 16, 2016
An irreverent pleasure. I only wish the art were clearer.
Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews