New York Times bestselling author Kevin Baker (Dreamland) writes his first original graphic novel, with internationally acclaimed artist Danijel Zezelj. Alik Strelnikov lives in the shadow of Coney Island, a world of silenced rides and rusting amusement parks that mock his dreams of becoming a hero. Ten years ago, he traded a brutal existence in the Russian army for the promise of America only to become an enforcer in the Brooklyn mob. Now, he chases his ghosts with all he has left: booze, heroin and his lover, Marina, part-time prostitute and full-time fortune teller. The only way the two of them can escape their miserable fates hinges on a desperate plan that will put them between warring mobs and span a century, from contemporary Coney Island to the Russia of the Second Chechen War to spellbinding 1910s New York. Mixing historical novel, immigrant fiction and crime thriller, LUNA PARK marks Kevin Baker's return to Coney Island, the setting of his critically beloved Dreamland and features breathtaking art by Danijel Zezelj (LOVELESS) with to-die-for colors by Dave Stewart (DC: THE NEW FRONTIER).
Kevin Baker is the author of the New York, City of Fire trilogy: Dreamland, Paradise Alley, and Strivers Row. Most recently, he's been writing about politics for Harper's Magazine and the New York Observer.
Stark, dark drawings & a strong, sorrowful message makes this a must read. The immigrant experience, no matter where it lands in the scale of years or history, shall always be relevant. (Especially now!) It's always filled with strife & tribulation.
That was a disappointment. Starts off as a story about a Russian soldier, now a mob enforcer, looking for redemption. Halfway through it turns into a surreal series of alternate histories the character could have lived, completely abandoning the main plot. Danijel Žeželj was an excellent choice as artist. His art is made for dour Russian settings.
090411: this is what great graphic work can do that no other medium does: intense, horrific, visuals. no hard working through text, the darkness is literal. no quickly passing scenes as in film. you can look, you can build the horror, you can never escape- the narrative is gripping, the artwork is beautiful, the layers of images like the best film, immediate and overwhelming as images in robbe-grillet. great work...
Reason for Reading: The Russian historical aspects and the publisher's summary had me intrigued.
This is a very difficult book to give a summary as nothing is as it seems but let me tell you what appears to be happening as the book starts. Alik Strelnikov is a Russian immigrant who made a deal back in Russia which got him his freedom in America. This 'freedom' lead him to working for a second fiddle Russian mob group in Coney Island as an enforcer. Here he lives an existence with his girlfriend in an apartment drinking, listening to old Russian records and shooting heroin to forget what he has become. But he is plagued with dreams, nightmares actually, the same ones over and over, which show him in various situations in different uniforms and he is always afraid. These nightmares will take us back in history to pre-revolutionary Russia, to WWI, to the Chechen Wars and back to 1910s New York.
This is an awesome, gripping story. The reader has no idea of what is really going on for some time. My mind contemplated these dreams as possible flashbacks to past lives, psychic visions of the past, a tortured man turning his real problems into symbolic messages and finally a simpler consideration, the raving dreams of a madman. Why he keeps having the dreams is not so important but the recurring themes that they carry are. With the ultimate one of betrayal being the most affecting on him. Then the book takes an extreme magical or psychedelic turn and one can possibly start to put things together until near the very end when the author hits us with a very subtle reveal we hardly notice it until the final page with it's shocking end. I actually stared at the last page for some seconds before the reveal sank in. A fabulous end!
The writing and the art combine to make a surreal, strange, semi-conscious type of plot. This is not going to be a book for everyone. Not for the type who like their plots to begin at A and end at Z. The plot is incongruous and where it is going the reader cannot grasp until a certain point 2/3s of the way through. This is not a bad thing though. I found the book utterly captivating to read. It's one of those few books that stand out alone as an "I've never read anything quite like it before!" book. The art is fascinatingly done mostly in a palette of terracottas, greys and purplish blues that turn into lavenders at more lighthearted scenes (not that there are many of those). If you've ever seen old Communist posters or postage stamps from the era, the art reminds me of that style at times. Otherwise it matches the mood of the story perfectly.
Do you like the idea of a decrepit Coney Island as a cheap metaphor for the insincerity of the Statue of Liberty? How about as a symbol for the modern decline of the American empire? But you don't feel like taking the train all the way to the edge of Brooklyn? Do you think Russians are interesting, but don't feel like familiarizing yourself with Russian history or literature by reading books without pictures? Fear not, our intrepid author gives, according to his ability, a panorama of Russian stereotypes throughout the ages. With a limited palette, Luna Park paints a picture of despotic thugs, well-read junkies, and shamanic whores. These caricatures run around, interact, and, because they have the ghosts of Ivan Grozny, Great Bronze Equestrian Peter, and ol' Uncle Joe running around in their DNA, they can't help themselves from causing a bloody goddamn mess. The end result is a comic book that is long and boring enough to be marketed as a graphic novel. All that's lacking is a foreword by Anne Appelbaum to make this an ideal stocking stuffer for Russophobes too refined for Yakov Smirnoff, and not yet ready for Robert Conquest.
A kind of surreal trip through current Russian history...a man out of time and place must deal with issues that will destroy him if he ignores his past; but his past may be the very thing that has put him in the cross-hairs of fate.
This book kind of broke my brain, but not for the twist ending (I'm so proud of myself: I picked up on the first subtle clue). Parts of it were staggeringly beautiful, and more of it was staggeringly heartbreaking.
I wish the art had a little more definition, but that's just personal preference. It's strong and evocative and suits the story well.
The story itself isn't what it seems at first and ultimately asks the question: is humanity doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again?
A major league disappointment. Story was very confusing and circular in nature. The art was great, but too bad it came in combination with such a poorly-constructed story. I hate it when people who are really good at another genre come into a popular one like graphic novels (or mystery or science fiction) and think they're going to write the "great American novel" or whatever (they're going to revolutionize or "transcend" the genre). It generally means that what they've actually written is a poor imitation of stories that have already been done to death a million times over by people who know the genre intimately. That's what we've got here. Baker, a respected historical novelist, should stick to his novels and let those who know how to write and tell a story graphically do their thing. I do not recommend this (luckily, I was able to get it through my library and not have to pay for it).
Wobbles in and out of greatness. A story that is not quite coherent, art that tries to pack just a little bit too much in.
Zezelj is his usual revolutionary self. There are not many artists out there better than this guy is. But the pacing is too dense, and the multiple layers of allegory are undone by Zezelj's failure to square the visual circle. You need characters who simultaneously look alike and different? That's a tall order for any comic book artist. The way it tends to turn out is that you never know who any of the characters are at all.
Very circular. The present mirrors the past which mirrors the past which is all in the head of ... well, I'll keep that a secret if you choose to read it.
Kevin Bakerin "Luna Park" (Vertigo, 2009) alkaa kiinnostavasti melko perinteisenä rikostarinana, jossa elämässään epäonnistuneet pikkutekijät yrittävät murtautua ulos kehästään paremman tulevaisuuden toivossa, mutta jossakin vaiheessa tarina alkaa saada aika erikoisia käänteitä, enkä ainakaan minä osannut - ehkä puutteellisen kielitaitonikin takia - sanoa onko kyseessä huumetrippi, painajainen, aikamatka vai mikä. Henkilökohtaisesti olen suoraviivaisempien tarinoiden ystävä, vaan oli tässä albumissa kuitenkin omat ansionsa. Kuvituksesta pidin myös.
Syystä tai toisesta tulin ajatelleeksi "Sinuhe egyptiläistä" albumia lukiessani. Lohdutonta ja pessimististä on meno (ainakin Neuvostoliitossa ja Venäjällä), mikään ei muutu ja ihminen on ihmiselle susi, vuosikymmenestä toiseen.
Stories of New York City's multitude of ethnic communities has always been fascinating for me, as they reflect the eternal struggle of the American immigrant. There is the struggle to balance the adoption of a truly free society that allows you to forge your own, unique identity with the fears of losing the ancient cultures that largely define who we are. This is the struggle of the affections of the homeland and the motherland.
Kevin Baker delves us deep into the Russian immigrant communities of Brighton Beach and Coney Island, and the world of mob crime that proves to be the fastest track for new Americans to make a living in an unforgiving new world.
The story follows the travails of Alik, a Russian immigrant who becomes an enforcer for one of the most notorious gangs in Brighton Beach. As Alik gets deeper into the politics and maneuvering of gang life, he also seeks to kill the pains of his fractured past with drugs and the company of a volatile woman, also his lover, a strange woman named Marina. Marina is also the keep of Alik's rival gang boss. Alik simply wants to get away with Marina, a proposal that proves far more complex than said, given Marina's child and Alik's loyalties.
The first half of Baker's story is riveting as a crime drama, giving hints of Alik's former life as a soldier in the Russian army. The second half however spins off into the metaphysical and supernatural as Alik learns that his life, and the hurdles he faces, may not be unique, one-time experiences.
The book commands attention because of its characters and rich environment. Baker and artist Danijel Zezelj create one of the most beautiful depictions of New York that I have ever seen in a long time, filling the city with equal parts wonderment and grime. The second half of the book however spins out of control, not knowing the proper balance between supernatural plotting and historical exposition. Baker demonstrates his exhaustive research into Russian history, but his efforts to weave it into a cohesive story seems exceptionally forced. In the end the story does not deliver the type of punch and satisfaction that the art and research achieved. The result is an achingly beautiful and undeniably rich book that has a misguided and insufficient soul.
The real standout of this book however is the work of colorist Dave Stewart, who has done one of the finest coloring jobs that I've ever seen in any graphic novel in the past decade. Steweart's colors are the strongest storytelling elements in LUNA PARK, and they successfully transported me between time eras and metaphysical levels. Stewart's work is alone worth the price of admission, and is a must for any graphic design / art enthusiast.
The book is worth checking out at the library, but recommended for purchase only for fans of Baker, Zezelj or Stewart's previous works.
Kevin Baker, author of the brilliant PARADISE ALLEY and other historical fiction, joins forces with painter and illustrator Daniel Zezelj for this first-rate graphic novel.
While set in Baker's familiar environs of Coney Island and lower Brooklyn, this book veers off at a sharp angle from the 19th and early 20th century New York chronicles for which he's best known. The book maintains historical rigor all the same, this time through the contemporary Russian culture around Brighton Beach and the boardwalks, as well as the roots of those cultures in Eastern Europe, not shy of savage grit and attempts to rise above it.
A star-crossed love story between Alik and Marina, the narrative travels freely through time and location, using the amusement park not so much as an escape but a portal: to the crime-ridden modern-day tenements of Coney, and the violent wars in Eastern Europe in this and preceding centuries. Baker's genius correctly identifies the park as a place of fear as well as joy; like America, it promises dreams, but delivers what the Greeks named ananke: harsh necessity, or fate. We cannot escape the human condition, no matter how many spins of the coaster.
For an author who mythologized the amusement park even while showing its hardscrabble underbelly in DREAMLAND, it's quite a statement. Rather than a paean to Americana, the book follows the Greil Marcusian history of America as a place of futile promise, and the necessity to break that cycle (cf Marcus' SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME). Will we do it? Baker's account keeps us holding breath up to the last page.
Zezelj's artwork informs and deepens the narrative, creating an additional momentum that makes the reader both want to turn the next page and savor the last one at the same time. The force of the artwork is perfect and its part in the narrative essential.
It's at once a luscious and disturbing book, unexpected and undeniably brilliant.
*
WHY I READ THIS BOOK: Luna Park is the name of my arts production business, chosen because of its namesake (the second main park at Coney Island) and founders who envisioned a place where the masses could exercise their imagination. I saw this book mentioned on a blog or review, and reserved a copy for when it came out last fall. It took me a while to open it up, for fear that it would not be enough, or perhaps that it would be too much. Its ultimate questions certainly resonate: where do reality, imagination, illusion, escape, and transformation overlap, and can there be any constructive progression therein?
Stories about ex-Soviet gangsters in Brooklyn are kind of a trope at this point (especially in film), but this graphic novel offers them up in a new format with some striking artwork. Alik is a Russian veteran of the war in Chechnya who has come to Brooklyn to try and escape his dark past, which includes the loss of his true love. However, he's found escape of the wrong sort in heroin, and works as an enforcer for a small time Russian hoodlum. He's also obsessed with a beautiful fellow Russian hooker/fortune-teller who is in thrall to a powerful Russian mobster. While this all sounds straightforward, there are also surreal shifts back in time to what seem to be previous incarnations of him and his lover/wife, which seem to all end in (and foreshadow) tragedy. These dark dreams alternate with the mounting feud between Alik's overconfident boss and the more ruthless mobster who owns his lover, all leading inevitably toward a Coney Island shootout. What might have been a well-told, but routine, crime story is made into something more lasting and mournful through the use of these flashbacks and the amazing artwork. The artist is Croatian and he brings a European sensibility to it that lends the story a distinctive quality perfectly in sync with the story New York novelist Baker (Dreamland, Paradise Alley) has created. Definitely worth checking out by those interested in very dark stories and artwork.
No hay que juzgar a un libro por su cubierta. O a un genero por su aura. Novela grafica prescindible, donde falta mucho de lo que creia iba a encontrar: desesperanza creible, una vida posible y negra, una historia lineal, y en su linealidad, realista.
Alik, ex soldado ruso, escapa del horror de la guerra y se instala en Coney Island. Trabaja para un mafioso, se enamora de una puta, se inyecta heroina para olvidar y no puede deshacerse de sus pesadillas, que lo esperan a cada vuelta de esquina. Bajo esta premisa escogi el libro. En algun momento, se pierde la linealidad temporal (algo no necesariamente malo), se enreda la historia, vuelve a nacer Alik, se confunde su puta de America (asi le dice el planeta a los Estados Unidos), con su amor de Rusia.
Lectura de banio, basicamente. De inodoro, mas precisamente
There are at least one or two full spread scenes that are amazing. I loved most of the sepia strips of story. It started out as a really good "Fool me once" story. Then came some historical scenes, which were great until it became the whole story. I get where Kevin was going with in the theme, it was just too many war scenes than I expected.
A tale of love, war & betrayal. There were large parts of this that I thought seemed sort of formulaic but I loved the overall concept. I won't say much more but it's a quick read so if you do have a chance to pick it up, it's worth it.
A tad overwritten in terms of captions, but it's a twisty, complex tale with gorgeously evocative artwork. The ending is kind of love it or hate it, and I belong in the former camp.
It seems pretty difficult to review this book without spoiling anything, but I'm going to try. The upsetting thing about this bendy, twisty graphic novel is how great its ideas are if you just say them out loud. They're very pitchable, engrossing, and theoretically emotional and experiential. But, Baker's execution muddies the waters around these ideas so much that you can't see any of them.
This is inherently a book written for its ending, which I found genuinely surprising and cool. However, the long, winding route this story takes to get there is unforgivably slow and confusing. There are entire sections where a narrator just tells us point blank about his life without any nuance or feeling. There are misdirects that serve no narrative purpose and are simply there to mislead the reader. There's far too much "tell don't show" in this for a comic book, and it feels better suited as a novel or short story. I found myself constantly almost giving up on this, until the last 10 pages or so really picked up. That's an awfully low percentage of success, though, in a 160-page book.
So, despite a pretty great dismount, this book just didn't do it for me. It felt like a chore getting through it, and I have enough work to do on my own.
I didn't know what to expect when I started this, and I'm still not entirely sure what I read. It definitely seemed very Russian in its story and themes, as a man finds himself trapped in a cycle of violence throughout multiple lives. The ending was very surprising, but did feel earned once I thought about it. The artwork is bleak and rough, with the color work adding to the emphasis. The story passes through several eras of 20th Century Russian history. The characters are unpleasant; they work for themselves, recognizing their own failures even as they maintain their behaviors. It's a very different perspective which makes this for a challenging book to read, but ultimately interesting.
This was not really the story that I thought it was going to be after reading the back of the book. Not that the publisher's summary was wrong or misleading, but it was incomplete. The real point of the book is not the crime and gangs and prostitutes, but rather uses them to ask deeper questions. A much more "modern literature" type of story than I expected. I did enjoy it, though, and the severe left turn into surrealism that occupies the last third of the book was quite enjoyable once I figured out what was going on.
Luna Park by Kevin Baker (illustrated beautifully by Danijel Zezelj) concerns history as well. Both personal and global. Alik is a Russian ex-pat (he’d fought and witnessed atrocities in the Chechnya) now prowls Coney Island as a mob heavy. Alik and his girlfriend are addicted to heroin, and as their lives tumble toward violence, Alik re-lives nightmares from the past. It’s a heady mix of historical/ghost/noir.
Too abstract and bizarre to make any sense. The best thing about this book is the artwork, which paints a surreal portrait of this dark and dreary world. Unfortunately, the story suffers. The characters lack the kind of depth expected in a story so glum and tragic. I should feel for their situation, but I just don't. And the ending...um... I get it, but it don't get it. At least not enough to enjoy the book.
I enjoyed both the story and the art, and found myself transported into the haunting and violent world created by Baker and Zezelj. That is, until the last 4 pages which ruined the story and mood of the book, and left me thinking, "Huh?" Had it ended 4 pages sooner, this review would have been a lot more positive.
The picture of the four German soldiers at the bottom of page 53 is ripped off from the movie 'Come and See' I guess the writer thought it was a real historical image from the war without doing any research. And to top it all off, it was the worse fucking ending I've ever seen in a book. This is what I get for taking recommendations from morons.
Clever last third and ending, but the opening section of the book is horrifically slow. From a theoretical point of view, I appreciate the multi-level narrative, but the end result is a bunch of unfinished, un-compelling stories. The art is truly beautiful (in a tragic, depressing way), though.
LUNA PARK presents a feeling of claustrophobia and a suffocating grip of fate and destiny. In this regard, the artwork does complement the story – dark, harsh lines in small boxes in sepia-like tones are rendered to depict cold and unforgiving settings with a mood of nostalgia.
There is a twist in the end, so spoilers will be dodged in this review. Given the lack of explanation, the creators are assuming the reader was born before 1975. I think the twist is forced and it also represents a leap in the storyline that remains unexplained and farfetched.
Just like voiceovers risk getting tiresome in a film, the lengthy text boxes inserted into illustrated cells become stultifying. The narrative slows down and becomes burdensome. Dialogue picks up speed about 23 pages in and we should be thankful – when the dialogue and illustrations synchronize, we start to get the kind of storytelling that makes graphic novels unique. With dialogue there is a better sense of time flowing and the characters becoming more substantive and relatable.
The lengthy text boxes also imply a puppeteer, an all-knowing narrator that sees more than the characters notice. This omniscient narrator tells us of legends, of historical atrocities driven by cunning and rage, of misplaced hope leading to unintended betrayals and disasters. As we progress, these events are presented as a pattern – as fate, as destiny. A thread between them all becomes more apparent. The pattern is not completely clear, but it’s there and it’s bigger than our hero’s foibles.
I find stories where destiny, fate and dark forces deprive characters of any free will to be depressing. In many of these tales, the creators bend over backwards to paint the characters into a corner, depriving them of any decent choices (i.e. he didn’t want to kill him, but he had NO choice.). This is where the reader’s disbelief gets strained because any reader will entertain other possibilities in their head, more reasonable choices that might offer some escape. This is when you find yourself arguing with the narrator. I didn’t buy into the lack of choices in LUNA PARK and in this case I found believing everything is pre-ordained was a cop-out, both by our hero and by the author.
There’s nothing wrong with a story being grim. For some, it’s more palatable when one of the characters is worth rooting for to survive and succeed. LUNA PARK certainly starts off that way, but by the end, I lost interest in rooting for the hero – everything was pre-ordained anyway. The hero’s choices continued to be poor choices, even though he was aware of the pattern. The main character was being railroaded into a twist ending that fell kind of flat for me.
However, the historical vignettes peppered throughout the middle of LUNA PARK are the most rewarding reading. The attempt to sew all these vignettes together into a quilted narrative makes the whole become ragged and unenjoyable. I found these stories within a story captivating on their own.