Grant > Recent Status Updates

"I want to be on the side of the things in the sea." What surprised me most about EVERYTHING IS TEETH is its eventual vegan advocacy. I don't know if Wyld is a vegetarian/vegan, but the language in her memoir (a bull shark's babies are referred to as "puppies") meshed with Sumner's tender artwork lend that impression. Battles waged against Nature by men like Vic Hislop (a true SOUTH PARK character) are depressing.

Evie Wyld and Joe Sumner make a great writer/artist team. Her vivid, sensory language is more literary and precise than the average graphic memoir; and his adaptable, expressive art style - thin figures with exaggerated facial features and heavy shadow - seems influenced by the French, like David B. First page amused me, as Evie recalls sounds of her childhood before images. Isn't the comic the chosen medium here? ha

When I started LIFE SUCKS (just for Abel), it definitely felt like a CW series scaled down to graphic novel format due to... that title. Wisecracks/puns that are intentionally sophomoric develop an almost endearing quality as the story progresses. The fake vampire movie lore (pg 110) is pretty great; but despite the diversity of the cast, characterizations are mostly flat. Rosa should be the protagonist, not Dave.

I appreciate the diversity in styles and subject matter therein, but the quality amongst 'Short Stories' and 'The Four Seasons' is erratic. I love Abel's comic journalism, though, as it's as consistently insightful as it is innovative (particularly for the mid-'90s). Steve Albini-inspired in-joke of "Two Degrees of Separation" is great, and the juxtaposition of mundanity/profundity in "Jack London" is even better.

These stories/sketches are largely unfulfilling; and that's likely why I've neglected to continue with this collection after nearly two months, even as a breezy read. "Uterus" is likely my favorite of the nine that I did finish, while most others fall short or come over as odd jokes or mean-spirited satire, especially "Cocked and Locked" (wow, this is one-star material). So, I'm sadly done here- moving on.

(cont) And so it would follow with sister/actual mother, In-hye. The unnerving final act truly elicits wincing... simple language and surreal shuffling of time potently conveying complex ideas, emotions, and senses exploring the relationship between internalized violence and tenderness. Also, anxiety. It is often remarkable how Kang wrings such psychology from scenes that seem to evaporate as soon as they condensate.

July 1-14, stray thoughts: What really distinguishes this novel is its utilization of botanical imagery. I have never read anything quite like this tale of contagious, yet almost entirely self-inflicted body horror. All the little accumulating environmental details feel like they have purpose in the narrative that's spiritually bound to the tragically emaciating Yeong-hye, who seeks to become one with Mother Earth.

A more accurate title might be 'The Vegan,' but it doesn't have quite the same ring to it without those extra syllables, huh... haha. This is actually a rather simply written but effectively psychologically disturbing Murakami-esque tale that entwines the violent and sexual metamorphoses of two people. The switch from first to third person (in pt 1 to 2) initially threw me, but I personally appreciate the varied POV.

"Israel's hippest young writer?" Yeah, maybe. Thanks go to Russ for the recommendation, particularly the intrigue from hearing Willem Dafoe read 'Mystique' (not in this collection). The titular story has a definite Donald Barthelme style and tone, but I certainly like it. Not so much with the bare-bones cynicism of 'Goodman.' Keret's only proven inconsistency to me thus far, but I'll continue reading.

Profiles of the Staley plant workers in Decatur, IL, are still so sadly timely. "There's no future for our kids unless they organize." -This was in '97.

The main collection, prior to the non-fiction epilogue/coda stuff, seems to be organized by increasing melodrama and diminishing returns. "Goddamn Hollywood" is probably Abel's least visual and involving story. It's simply missing the strong personal identities, fluidity, and balanced tones of the first two and even "Point of Departure." Ah, well. As an introduction to a serious comic artist, one could do much worse.

Engrossing, nuanced portrayal of characters continue in "Point of Departure" even if I don't as strongly identify with the relationship gossip. Loved the dissection of Jamal's short story in the coffee shop.

Of all references, I feel like this ends with a reunion similar to the one in TERMINATOR between Kyle and Sarah. Maybe that's apt..? It's hard to deny Clowes' ambition with PATIENCE (and it does require patience, hah). There are a lot of effectively clever 'aha' scenes in Jack's time-jumping. But a distracting feeling persists- psychology would just work better work in a hybrid novel with intermittent illustration.

Well, now that the narrative has fully embraced retrocausality and time paradoxes, etc., it's become more intriguing... especially in the last twenty pages where the perspective flip has more emotional weight. It reminds me of the first story in that Abel collection I'm currently reading, actually. The way Clowes illustrates dialogue is strange, as if characters are being pushed out of their own realities, muffled...

As the narrative pieces fall into place, I can appreciate how Clowes manipulates the component of nostalgia. No one could possibly stay a passive observer while wielding the power to affect personal history and prevent someone's humiliation. I wonder if all the dialogue would be more potent without overuse of profanity and first-person narration. I do like PATIENCE, but the panels are a bit too dense. More later....

Unsure how I feel in the grander scheme of things.... I mean "a cosmic timewarp deathtrip to the primordial infinite of everlasting love" sounds like a beautifully twisted psychedelic experience(!), but the tone thus far is considerably more mundane than that self-descriptive blurb. There have been a few moments of bleak hilarity, but I guess I'll have to find out how Clowes effectively implements the achronology.

I wish I could fully express my appreciation at the moment, but I'm distracted.... The first two stories - "As I Live and Breathe" and "Châiné" - are simply exceptional. This is even more significant, because Abel's panels are some of the most unbelievably text-heavy I've come across. (In #2) Possessed by self-doubt, Paloma's inner monologue is so real (cue Jeff Buckley). Dialogue/dynamic with Nina is fascinating.

"I can be very humorous. You can't tell?"
"You seem more angry I think."

This feels largely, amusingly autobiographical. ...Expected for an Eisenberg play, I suppose. Is it weird or offensive that Maria's broken English has the voice of Kate McKinnon in my head? haha

It's been 20 months since I've watched a Bergman film; I should never fall into that kind of drought again, haha. Gado devotes a mere page to the early adaptation of an Olle Länsberg novel, PORT OF CALL. It's shame, because I thought, barring the final 15 minutes or so, it's a highly successful union of melodrama and neo-realism. Gado disagrees, of course. Time to move on to CRIES AND WHISPERS next, hopefully...

"Regression...? Or rebirth...?"

I've always found the final act of the film's mutations/biopunk elements to be particularly horrifying but immensely creative and striking. Considering its general ebb and flow, Tetsuo's transformation in the manga is more nuanced and classically tragic/Shakespearean as he loses the ability to control his power and assert his identity. The final 150 pgs set up what's likely to be a painfully beautiful finale.

The plot thickens... One fact I didn't realize until now is that volumes 5 and 6 were published after the film's release in '88. I'm curious, then, to know why Otomo opted to direct the film without his completed narrative/vision. The manga represents quite a different one than what moviegoers/anime fans associate with AKIRA, but it is sincerely worth exploring infinitely. So, maybe there is hope in a movie trilogy?

Bookended by immediate aftermaths of recurring devastation, this volume of AKIRA is pure escalation. Whether in its more meditative history or brutal violence, it's just horrifying and beautiful post-apocalyptic prophecy. Utterly riveting.

Increasingly disturbing and brutal turns, spiraling into oblivion... Tetsuo's hallucination on pgs 109-115 is especially horrifying. I don't have high hopes for Nolan's live-action adaptation at this point; I really would like to see a 13-episode series on the manga instead.

Much of volume 3 was devoted to character development of those only peripherally present in the movie, like Miyako, and that's carried into the more definitively post-post-apocalyptic environment in the final 40 pages of vol 3 into vol 4, beginning with the fanatics of the Great Tokyo Empire/Akira himself and ending (at the moment) with the depth of the bond between Kei and Ryu. Probably my favorite volume thus far.