Recommendations: Hawkeye and Avengers Arena

Last week, my fellow Scribblerati Agent Shawn posted a few suggestions for your reading enjoyment. One was for the comic book Hawkeye written by Matt Fraction and drawn by David Aja, it's a recommendation that I heartily agree with. In fact, it was the forgotten 14th book in a blog of my own: 13 comics in '13. Shawn talked about it a little bit, so I'll be brief.

Hawkeye is a great book.

It's funny and smart with some fantastic art. It manages to easily walk the line between portraying the serious danger permeating the life of an off-duty Avenger and reveling in the misadventures of a man who is part good-hearted hero and part screw-up.

Now, I'm not one to rail against mainstream superhero books. I don't see the point. I'm not a fan of some of the more annoying and long ingrained tropes, but I still understand that the industry is what the industry is. I mean, you should know what you're buying before you buy it. If you don't like certain things, do like me and don't support them with your money... simple enough. But at the same time, I love books like this, books that stretch and explore and try new things. Simply put, there should be more books like this on the shelf. Books with substance and wit, y'know? Granted, Hawkeye is a character that may not sound like an interesting read at first glance, but it is absolutely a book you should be picking up. It deserves the support.

Here's some samples to give you a taste:

This is hands-down a great book. I love it. Well written. Fantastic art. Excellent pacing and balance of tone. Lots of fun. Definitely worth a buy.

Next up is a comic that I wasn't expecting to like. 

Avengers Arena. 

I mentioned it in the 13 comics in '13 blog, as well. For the click-lazy, the story goes like this: There's this old X-men bad guy called Arcade. He's a little red-headed twerp in a white suit and bow-tie who specializes in creating these elaborate and nightmarish theme parks he calls Murderworlds that are designed to kill superheroes. He then lures the X-men or the Avengers into the middle of one of these ridiculously stupid, Rube Goldbergian death-traps, all while cackling wildly. 

Unfortunately for him, he's a big failure. None of his intended victims have ever had any trouble at all busting out of one of his stupid traps, let alone actually come close to dying in one. Never once. Not once. He usually just ends up getting the unholy crap somewhat deservedly kicked out of him. The guy is D-list all the way. A total nothing villain. A joke.

Idiot

Or at least he was...

Because Arcade is back and he's done some work on himself while he was away. He has upgraded his tech and changed the rules of his game. Now, within his new Murderworld, he is all-powerful.

His first target: Teen Superheroes.

"Wait a minute," I hear you saying... "You just go on and hold on there a minute, Jon, you're not talking to some rube here, you are talking to someone who has devoured the latest and greatest new hotness in "literature" these days and I gotta tell ya', this stuff here sounds like nothing more than a Hunger Games rip-off." And you'd be right, Senor English Lit Major... kind of (except for the fact that it's more of a Battle Royale rip-off and so is Hunger Games, both of which owe a huge debt to Lord of the Flies... ahem... but I digress), but the kicker is: The creators are also aware of the similarities. I mean: Duh. Come on. Here's some sample covers...

So they know. It's not a big thing. Anyway, I haven't read anything else by Dennis Hopeless and I'm pretty sure I haven't seen any of Kev Walker's work before either, but let me tell you, they're killing it. Walker's work is expressive and fluid with strong, dark lines, not overly concerned with muscle poses or relying heavily on sexy. I really like it, especially for this book. But the real sell is Hopeless's writing. I mean, really, the key to pulling off a book like this, using a topic like this, featuring a villain who has never been a threat, is to make it all matter. You have to make it dangerous. In a nutshell, Murderworld has to kill the hell out of some characters. 

And it does...

SPOILERS:

 

 

END SPOILERS...

The best part is that all of the characters trapped within this new Murderworld are heroes or heroes-in-training and as the story progresses, slowly but surely, Arcade is forcing them to play his game. Blood has been spilled. There's twists and danger on every page. 

And it doesn't take long to realize that no one is safe. 

Which is surprising because some of the cast has appeared in other books before. There's members of the Runaways and the Avengers Academy present, among others, so you kind of expect them to be safe... but believe me, they are not. 

Along with these established characters, there are some brand new ones too, not that you can tell when reading--a testament to the writing. Each new issue focuses on a different cast member, it introduces them, it lets you get to know them, it makes them a real character with actual motivations... and then...sometimes, it kills them off, often shockingly. Arcade's game isn't over until there's only one hero left and at this point, I'm not entirely unsure that is what will actually end up happening. That's brilliant. Do you know how many Big Two comics there are out there where a character could actually die in a non-Event book? And have it matter? 

None.

Now, some people out there will complain about this. Comic fans are notoriously resistant to any kind of change in the status quo at all, while often at the same time bitching about the lack of tension in stories... it's a difficult crowd to please to say the least. I don't get it. To me, the danger is what makes it thrilling. Sad, of course, because due to the strong writing you end up liking a lot of these characters, flaws and all, but it's a thrilling read nonetheless.

And that's why Avengers Arena is highly recommended.

Read on,

Jon

Some recommendations

Being in the Scribblerati carries with it certain responsibilities.

A lot of people often come up to us (and by "a lot", I mean: None. And by "often", I mean: Never) and they say: "You Scribblerati... you're pretty awesome. Pray tell, what kind of things do you like, because I would very much like to like them too. I would love to stroll about town and lord my new found tastes over the heads of others' much more inferior tastes while laughing, taunting them until my throat is sore, saying: 'ha ha, jerks, you're not cool like me and the Scribblerati!' Simply put, that would be... heaven."

Your cries have not gone unheard...

Some Recommendations

by Jon

Books
Reading... gross.

1. Cloud Atlas

By David Mitchell, in its own words:

"A reluctant voyager crossing the Pacific in 1850; a disinherited composer blagging a precarious livelihood in between-the-wars Belgium; a high-minded journalist in Governor Reagan’s California; a vanity publisher fleeing his gangland creditors; a genetically modified “dinery server” on death-row; and Zachry, a young Pacific Islander witnessing the nightfall of science and civilisation — the narrators of Cloud Atlas hear each other’s echoes down the corridor of history, and their destinies are changed in ways great and small."

Fantastic and soon to be a major motion picture. I intend to both read and watch the hell out of it. See the trailer here.

2. Red Country

By Joe Abercrombie. It's not out yet; that fact drives me nuts. However, it will be out around my birthday... ahem... Anyway, this will be his sixth book of an intended nine, all of them set in the same world, and the third and final one in the middle "loose" trilogy. In its own words:

"They burned her home. They stole her brother and sister. But vengeance is following. Shy South hoped to bury her bloody past and ride away smiling, but she’ll have to sharpen up some bad old ways to get her family back, and she’s not a woman to flinch from what needs doing.  She sets off in pursuit with only a pair of oxen and her cowardly old step father Lamb for company.  But it turns out Lamb’s buried a bloody past of his own.  And out in the lawless Far Country, the past never stays buried. Their journey will take them across the barren plains to a frontier town gripped by gold fever, through feud, duel and massacre, high into the unmapped mountains to a reckoning with the Ghosts.  Even worse it will force them into alliance with Nicomo Cosca, infamous soldier of fortune, and his feckless lawyer, Temple, two men no one should ever have to trust…"

Can't wait.

Movies

Ah... le cinema...

1. Cabin in the Woods

It has come to my attention that not very many of you have seen this film. What is wrong with you? Seriously. For real. Seriously, what's wrong with you? The film is directed by Joss Whedon. It stars Thor. It's so meta, you'll shit. Seriously. One of the best films of the year. A geek must.

2. Detention

Okay, with this one I will just go ahead and assume that many of you haven't seen this film either. Don't feel bad, Joseph Kahn also directed Torque (barf). As a result, there are only 12 people on the planet, including the cast and crew, who have heard of this film, let alone actually taken the time to watch it. I am one of the lucky few. Part teen comedy, part slasher flick, part scathing indictment of society, part time traveling adventure, part sci-fi horror, part 90s nostalgia trip, part sarcastic laugh riot, part Space Bear snuff film, part domestic terrorism thriller, part meta-comedy (you will also shit), this film is absolutely worth your time, although you won't think so at first. At the very least, wait for the moment when the kid remembers different eras throughout 19 years of detention. And yes, I'm recommending it, even though Dane Cook is in it.

Comics

Sequential art, cavemen loved and respected it, why can't you?

1. Prophet

Rob Liefeld created this character. Are you familiar with his work? No, read this, we'll wait. Ah, you're back. Please join the others in looking at me and my recommendation somewhat dubiously... Go ahead, because I'm serious. This is a good comic. Really good. But, but... you say. How? How can a comic book featuring a character by one of the worst in the industry from a time when comic books seemed to be competing to be the worst of the indutsry (the 90s), actually be good? Well, for starters, Liefeld isn't involved. As a result we get an intergalactic, far-flung-future tale of clone soldiers on insane alien planets. They live for the mission. They die for the mission. It all reminds me of an arty Doctor Who or Star Trek, but crazier and a shit ton more violent. I don't do it justice. Trust me. Classic Sci-fi. Great art. Fantastic designs.

2. Locke and Key

Joe Hill is the son of Stephen King. He is a writer. Not since Dick Grayson has a man been more doomed to exist in his father's shadow than poor old Joe. The good news is: He's pretty all right. In fact, he's actually pretty good, as evidenced by this fantastic tale of the Locke family and their lives in the aftermath of trajedy while living in the family's ancestral home: The Key House. It is weird and rambling old structure set at the tip of a strange little island at the far flung edge of Maine, a place well known for odd. Oh, and also, the house is full of locked doors and keys, find the right key and the right door and odd things happen. Become a ghost. Beome an old man. Become a giant. Mend things. Alter time. Bring shadows to life. Switch genders. Steal memories. Go anywhere. But what does the Black Door Key do? And who is the ghost woman trapped at the bottom of the well...

TV

This and beer keeps us from going crazy.

1. Louie

There are few hard luck cases like Louie. He is the hang-dog man, sad-faced and trod upon. And hilarious. And brilliant. Riotously funny. Suddenly serious. Shockingly insightful. Often kind of gross and pathetic. But still great. It's a show that is constanly in flux and always innovative. The episode where he and Robin Williams go to a funeral? Genius. This is a man's life, so sad, so entertaining...

2. Archer

There are few things as awesome as Sterling Archer.



Told'ja.

Danger zone,

Jon

But Think of the Children!

I recently read a blog which featured artist Dave Devries’ The Monster Engine project, wherein he takes children’s original drawings of monsters, and paints them realistically. I think it’s really cool; the results are both surreal and somehow primal – and I think Devries taps into something basic about the way children think, and view the world, and translates it so we adults are transported back to a time when we were scared of what might be – what most likely was - under our beds.

According to the comment section, however, it seems there are a few parents who don’t feel the same way. These folks said that the project was cruel, dishonored the child’s vision, and two women stated that their children would be ‘devastated’ if someone ‘did that’ to their art. They accused him of twisting a sweet child’s sweet vision into something nightmarish.

Um.

Okay then, many other commentators commented – but… Devries is collaborating with the children. He isn’t asking them to draw a precious fwuffy bunny, and then turning it into a blood-soaked serial killer. He’s asking them to draw a monster.

No, no, the mommy brigade insisted. Twisted. Appalling. Heartbreaking for a child. The argument became so heated that the blog moderator eventually deleted some of the nastier digs, and shut down the comments section.

The whole thing got me thinking about children's and young adult literature, and what exactly is appropriate for children. And also, who is the best to judge?

First of all, I know that every child is different. One 8-year-old could be blithely watching Tales From the Darkside alone with the lights off, and the next could be unable to sit on the couch for a week after watching that one Muppet Show episode where the furniture starts eating people. (Yes, those are examples from the 70s and 80s, and yes, I was the latter kid.) Also, I know that a parent should be the person to choose what is appropriate for their child to read. No question. It’s their job. But I’d argue that authors, parents and, most importantly, children themselves all have different criteria about ‘what is appropriate.’

Of course, the question of appropriateness is not limited only to how scary a thing is. There’s sexual content, violence, adult themes, religious philosophies, even language and humor. The big question on all fronts is, “Is the child ready?”

I am not a parent. Barring some bizarre and/or tragic happenstance (knock on wood), I will never be a parent. One of the first times in my life I was awed by the protective instincts of a parent was at my friend Dan’s house. He was having a party in the back yard, grilling out. There was a gaggle of children tearing about the place. I was sitting on the deck, in a lawn chair, the hot charcoal grill a mere 6 feet or so in front of me. I was watching as a little girl, at that age where she had just started to walk, suddenly started careening, hands out, toward the grill. Dan, who was not the father of the girl, but who is a parent, was in a conversation all the way on the other side of the lawn, not directly facing the girl and her imminent charring. I don’t know how he did it, but Dan was over there, the girl’s wrists clasped firmly in his hands, stopping her short, before I had even managed to completely rise from my chair. Don’t be too horrified; I would have reached her in time. It’s just that Dan, distracted, and way farther away, nevertheless got there first. He had the advantage of finely-honed daddy instincts.

The protective instinct is so innate; it’s really a wonder to behold sometimes. Sometimes, however, it gets in the way of reality. Or, more specifically, manners.

My friend Shannon was on a plane, sitting in the window seat, and like any good Midwesterner, she didn’t want to disturb her neighbors, so she waited until she really had to pee before she climbed over them to go to the bathroom. When she got to the back of the plane, dancing from foot to foot, there was a line. As she was waiting, a mother and her approximately 7-year-old child got in line behind her. The door opened; it was Shannon’s turn, but the little girl walked in front of her and started to go into the bathroom. Shannon said, “I’m sorry, honey, I think it’s my turn.” The mother, in a loud, indignant tone of voice exclaimed, “She’s just a CHILD!” Shannon, not to be daunted, crouched down in front of the little girl and asked, “Sweetie? Do you need to go really bad?” “No,” said the girl, shrugging. “Then do you mind if I go first?” “No,” said the little girl, smiling. Shannon walked into the bathroom. The mother huffed and glared.

Okay, so. No parent I know would ever behave in such a way. The woman was rude. But it’s a good, albeit extreme example of that protective instinct gone bad. It’s a miracle that the little girl, despite her mannerless mom, didn’t behave like an entitled asshole – or at least a coddled little baby chick. In truth, she had more on the ball than even her mother cared to notice. Which I think is true for many young readers, as well.

I’ve heard the “She’s just a CHILD” argument applied to children’s lit, too. How dare they market this to children, how dare they put this in that section of the store, how dare they carry this at a school! When it comes to what parents want their own children to read: fine. When it comes to institutionalized ‘protection’ of children to exposure to ‘harmful’ works (I’ll stop air quoting now), that’s when we authors, avid readers, aunts, uncles, and erstwhile children get uppity – along with every savvy parent out there.

I sometimes wonder if people who never have children somehow remember more accurately what it was like to be one. No, we’re not necessarily exposed to kids every day, but then again, our memories of childhood are not filtered through the parental lens. My friend Rhoda, for instance, a mother, had to stop reading Philip Pullman’s children’s lit book, The Golden Compass, because it featured the kidnapping and torture of children. I knew Rhoda as a child, and I can guarantee she would have loved the book then. Likewise, she would have devoured it greedily at any point as an adult, before she had become a parent.

Childhood reading experiences are fundamental in the development of language, humor, imagination and knowledge of the world. I may have been terrified of Muppet ottomans (ottomen?) as a child, but I could take most anything in book form. I read the Lord of the Rings trilogy at 11, and the Thomas Covenant books when I was 13. War, rape, torture, sex, death, cruelty… I distinctly remember my wide-eyed fascination, reading ‘beyond my level,’ stretching my understanding… what I don’t remember is being traumatized. I read books at a time when I only had one digit in my age, books about terrorists, murderers, kidnapping, obsessive love and abuse. Sure, I also read about magic and friendship, kindness, beauty and true love. But I think I understood the good things all the better for the bad. Protecting children from books containing big ideas and big evil seems backwards… after all, what gentler way to introduce a person to the big bad world then through fiction?