Category Archives: Comics

Comics, Life

The ‘hugs’ post

In which I flog my face, in the company of illustrious embellishers. Based on an idea submitted by Ganesh Natarajan, age 26, Chennai.

   

Adam Warren, the man behind Empowered and Dirty Pair, the master of the soft lead.

Meeting Adam Warren was high on my priority list for the con. His Empowered happens to be the one of the few comics that I wish had a speedier release schedule, and I have gone on record stating how much of a crush I have on the titular super-heroine. One of my fondest wishes is to own a complete Emp story – Adam does 2-3 page stories often in his books, and they are funny, sexy and perfect self-contained chunks of his artistry.

I spent the better part of a day looking for his booth, and following his tweets regarding his whereabouts. On the second day of the con, I landed up at Stuart Ng books because they had his sketchbooks, and as soon as I saw them on display, I grabbed at one and was flipping through it. This guy asks me if he can take a look, and I oblige. As he flipped through it, I was on full Emp-love mode, talking about how cool the series is and how great the sketchbook looks, because it had some short stories in it. After some time, I notice a bunch of people clustered around us, and steal a glance at the guy’s name tag. *Groan* It was Adam Warren himself, looking through his  sketchbook because they came straight to the con and he had not seen them before. Obviously, I met him again the next day, and bought some art, but I found it totally serendipitous to meet him this way.

Robert Kirkman, creator of The Walking Dead

I met Kirkman on Wednesday evening, when everybody was setting up. I was still in the “I can’t believe I am standing here” mode when my friend Kwan introduced me to Kirkman, and I shook hands and said hi. Kwan took a picture of us. And then as we were walking away, it sort of registered who I had just met – the guy that wrote the best ongoing series in comics, bar none. So I took a deep breath, turned and explained to Robert why I thought he was awesome and his books were awesome and that he should continue the awesomeness and take my money forever. He did not freak out and run away, so I assume I was lucid when I said all that.

 

Jerry Robinson, the man who created The Joker

It was such an honor to meet one of the figures who shaped the Golden Age. Mr Robinson was signing at his own booth, and I happened to be there at the right time. Picked up one of his prints, had him sign it to me, and when I asked to take a photograph, he called me behind the booth so that I was in the picture as well.

Jeff Smith, of Bone fame, with Vijaya Iyer, his wife and publisher, Cartoon Books.

Picture taken at the end of the party. I had seven glasses of wine in me, and was very freaking happy with the evening’s proceedings. There was a Bone photo-booth, and the original plan was to go in there with Jeff and Vijaya and pose with Bone. But the booth was closed towards the end, so we just decided to take the picture on my camera.

Then I staggered to my hotel room (2 miles away!), collapsed on my bed, and felt the world heave and shudder all night. Seven glasses of wine, I hate you (like I love you).

Dave Gibbons. THE Dave Gibbons.

If Dave Gibbons looks a little flustered here, it’s because he was in a hurry. I sort of feel sorry about my friend Joe stopping him just so I could get a picture taken with him, but Dave was nice enough to oblige. Later on, Dave was on stage with Jonathan Ross, as part of the Eisner presenters and the duo killed everyone with their jokes.

Craig Thompson of Blankets and Goodbye Chunky Rice

In 2007, I nearly paid a European collector $350  to get a small sketch by Craig that he owned. Wise sense (and a nearly-empty wallet) prevailed, and I did not go ahead with the deal. It was therefore a happy moment at the Con when I got to meet Craig, chatted with him about his work – he mentioned that he almost made it to the Jaipur Lit festival this year, but had to pull out at the last moment. Even meeting him was fortuitous. I was looking for the Harper-Collins booth to see if Joe Hill was hanging out there, and when passingthe Pantheon booth, I nearly fainted (mostly because I could not believe that I had missed this crucial bit of information) on seeing a hardcover edition of Habibi, Thompson’s 700+ page work after Blankets. As it turned out, the book would be out in September, and all I could do at the moment was hold it, caress it and kiss it goodbye-till-we-meet-again. The lady at the booth informed us that Craig would be signing posters at the booth for an hour the next day. Of course I made sure I was there an hour before the designated time, saw that a line had already formed before me. I bought a Blankets hardcover, and when it was my turn, Craig graciously drew a sketch for me. It was, ladies and gentlemen, the cause of the shit-eating grin I had on me the rest of the day.

Joe Hill and Gabe Rodriguez, the team behind Locke and Key, probably my favorite series right now.

Ah, Joe Hill. The man who Made Me Believe. The first writer, after my childhood idol (who was his father) that I would buy anything by. It’s almost funny to think that I had postponed reading Locke And Key so long just because I thought it would not live up to his prose writing. I was wrong. Joe Hill is a genius, and lucky, because he teamed with artist Gabriel Rodriguez, whose work has to be seen to be believed. Do not read anything about Locke and Key on the web, just go and download it RIGHT NOW. Read it. If you are not compelled to pay these guys money once you’re done, maybe you should stop reading this blog, because seriously, I do not have anything in common with you. Yes, them’s fighting words, but you’ve got to understand, I’ve waited years to be this blown away by a comic-book series. To not be jaded by a writer’s work because I can predict what’s coming next. *

*with the exception of The Walking Dead.
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Comics, Life

10 Things I Did At Comicon

  1. Picked up pre-ordered stuff. I spent the first day picking up stuff that I had pre-paid for, a few pieces of art, the Bone 20th volume edition (which came with a Jeff Smith original Bone painting), the Artist’s Edition of Walt Simonson’s Thor. A happy beginning!
  2. Met a lot of art people. Dealers, collectors and online friends, people I had been corresponding with for the better part of 5 years, seeking advice and envying their real-world adventures from faraway India. This year, I was on an adventure of my own, and could finally put faces and voices to names and email addresses. Some of us had dinner together on Wednesday night. Much mutual envy was expressed, and every form of comic art – European, Japanese and American – was discussed and dissected over food and drinks. I was to meet more people as the days progressed.
  3. Met some of my heroes.  Jerry Robinson. Craig Thompson. Becky Cloonan. Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez. Dave Gibbons. Michael Zulli. Steve Leialoha. Walt Simonson. Stan Sakai. Sergio Aragones. Joelle Jones. David Zahn. Adam Warren. Bill Willingham. Mark Buckingham. Robert Kirkman. Jill Thompson. They may just be names to you, but to me, they were icons that defined my reading habits. Meeting them in person was surprising, awe-inspiring, more than a little happiness-inducing. In most cases, I managed not to gush or simper or freak out anyone too much, and managed to tell them how cool their work was and how important they were to a guy growing up in India. I hope they understood.
  4. Wheeled and dealed  I had taken some of my art with me, and after the shock and awe of the first two days wore off, I looked to see if I could trade some of my under-loved pages for some better stuff. And yeah, I got some great stuff – traded an Invisibles page for a Steve Bissette/Alfredo Alcala Swamp Thing page, sold some of my pages to fund another purchase. Also got some deals started in the pipeline, so I know where my money for the next few months is going.
  5. Attended a party I had met Jeff Smith and Vijaya Iyer in 2009, when I interviewed Jeff for Rolling Stone India. This year marked the 20th Anniversary of Bone, and Vijaya invited me to the Scholastic party celebrations. The minute I walked into the terrace of the Hilton Bayfront on Thursday evening, I knew I was in for a swell time. Pros and fans mingled with each other, there were free goodie bags full of Scholastic graphic novels being handed out, great food, and an open bar. Surreal moments that evening – at one point I found myself discussing Hindu mythology with Paul Levitz, at another, Sergio Aragones put a hand on my shoulder like we had known each other for years, and told me how his passport caused much consternation at Bhutanese immigration since he was the first Mexican to visit the country. I recommended some books to a charming lady, an editor for Dvir Publishing House in Israel, which is publishing the Hebrew versions of Bone, and she in turn recommended the excellent works of Raina Teglmaier. Surprise, Raina was at the party signing her books, so I went on and said hello. Struck up conversations about Robyn and Swedish music and collecting comic art and types of cake around the world with random strangers, got a little drunk, staggered to my room a happy, happy man.
  6. Walked a lot When veterans of the Con tell you that it’s a tiring event, part of it is because of the sheer size of the convention. Walking from one end of the floor to the other takes about half a day, taking into account the crowds, the amount of distracting shininess on display and the fact that there are too many things going on at the same time. If you are ever at SDCC, make sure you have ample amount of snacks and some water with you. Do not buy too many books at once. Plan the day’s activities in the morning, if possible. And please, get yourself in shape a bit. I followed all these rules that my friend Joe hammered in me the last few months, and I was functioning on pure adrenaline by the end of Friday evening. And then I discovered that there were two more floors with stuff happening. *Sigh*
  7. Attended the Fables panel The biggest problem with attending panels at SDCC is that you need to queue for them, and considering the amount of things going on, it seems a criminal waste of time to stand in line when you could be doing something else. But I wanted to attend a panel – not just any panel, the Fables one, which was one of the most well-attended in the con, and required a ridiculous amount of queuing. I went in about 4 hours early, stayed for the Once Upon A Time TV show premiere (which is a TV show that seemed to be heavily inspired by Fables, though to be fair, the creative team behind Lost is doing it, and fairy tale characters are public domain, after all. Though I did not think too highly of it, I am fairly sure it will be successful) and the Jim Lee panel. The Fables panel had a huge number of creators up on stage, and the wait proved to be really worth it. Willingham  and co were great at giving out nuggets of information about the future direction of the series without really spoiling anything, and even though I’m not as rabid about Fables as I was a few years ago, I found myself getting more than a little interested in knowing where the series and its spinoffs were going. And oh – I will probably forever envy the lucky fan who answered a trivia question about Boy Blue and got a horn in a case, which was signed by everyone on stage. UGH!
  8. Attended the Eisners  The Eisner awards are the premiere award ceremony for the comic-book industry (sorry, Eagle Awards and Angouleme grand prizes) and when I learnt that entry was not just limited to professionals, I knew I had to go attend. I am glad I did. Cheered for Joe Hill and Gabe Rodriguez and Mike Mignola and the Ba/Moon brothers, and was completely thrilled at seeing Jonathan Ross taking potshots at the comic-book industry. A low-point was Lance Henricksen on stage, massacring names of nominees, comicbook companies and award-winners, but all in all, an awesome experience.
  9. Helped a friend. When art-hopping, I saw two Alex Raymond Rip Kirby strips for sale, at a more-than-decent price. How decent? Well, two strips were being sold cheaper than a single example available at a dealer in an adjacent row. I knew my friend was interested in good Raymond examples, and those two were great for the price. A couple of hastily exchanged emails and a Paypal payment later, the strips were his. As a bonus, I get to keep them until I meet him. I also got other things for different friends, and you will all get them when I meet you next.
  10. Bought books. While I had been trying to avoid buying books ever since moving to LA, the amount of 50% discount offers going around was too much for my fragile collecting soul, and I caved in multiple times. How much did I get? I went there with one bag, and I had seven heavy bags when I came back. Among the good stuff – Kagan McLeod’s Infinite Kung-fu, a hardcover edition of Blankets that Craig sketched in, Alec by Eddie Campbell, Tim Seeley’s Hack/Slash. All three Amulet volumes, signed and sketched-in by Kazu Kibuishi, Finder omnibus by Carla Speed McNeil. Obviously, I have to find time to sit and read them all.
There will probably be a post with pictures in them coming up soon.
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Comics, Manga

A few thoughts on a manga I am reading

I am just one volume in, and Twentieth Century Boys reminds me of Stephen King’s It.

I am a huge fan of Naoki Urasawa and consider him among the greatest contemporary manga creators out there. That’s right – not just a writer or an artist, a creator. He writes and draws, and it’s tough for me to say what he does better. The first Urasawa creation I read was a series called Monster, a psychological thriller set in Western Europe, an 18 volume joyride that I blazed through in one weekend. Early this year, I picked up the full run of Pluto, Urasawa’s homage to one of the most beloved Astro Boy story lines that Osamu Tezuka ever created.

In terms of technique, Urasawa is as much removed from the style one comes to expect from a traditional manga artist as Satyajit Ray is removed from, say, Subhash Ghai. When I see his line-work, I am reminded of European masters – his figures in motion carry a bit of Herge, the inking brings to mind the polished assurance of Moebius; the Japanese influences on his style is reminiscent of Katsuhiro Otomo and Jiro Taniguchi, both of whom, not surprisingly, have been influenced by Moebius.
Urasawa’s work therefore becomes a perfect gateway work to people who ‘mistrust’ manga. I use the term ‘mistrust’ because that seems to be the perfect term to describe the reactions that general comicbook fans have whenever manga comes under discussion – Naruto and Bleach seem to be the eye-roll-inducing standards against which all manga is judged, there are references to bug eyes and fetishization of prepubescent females, and of course, the eternal ‘you have to read it the wrong way’. Except for the last, which is something akin to insulting a language just because it does not sound like yours, Urasawa’s work defies conventional classification. No, it’s not art-house, highbrow literature that tries to batter you with it’s own sense of self-importance nor is it commercial franchise-building content.

Monster had its moments of storytelling naïveté, but it was a thriller comic done right, told exactly the way its creator wanted to. I made the mistake of slotting Pluto, when I first heard of it, as fan- fiction that would only make complete sense if I had the sense of nostalgia attached to the original Tezuka story as its intended audience. I was wrong. Sure, the second reading of Pluto, after I tracked down Astro Boy  vol 3 and read the 149-page ‘greatest robot on earth’ kind of helped me appreciate the choices that Urasawa’s homage made in course of its 8 volumes, the artistic licenses. It actually helped me take in the level of audacity of this fan, this guy who dared to remake something that had resonated in his childhood into something that unmakes nostalgia. I do not want to think of how much he must have internalized the original story to come up with something like this.
Why did it take me so long to get to 20th Century Boys, then? Because as is expected of output that maintains a high level of quality, there is only so much of it out there. Well, there is early Urasawa, such as Pineapple Express, published in every other language but English, but scanlations are not encouraging. His early work reminds me more of Toriyama, more cartoony than I would expect. I am not aware of what he’s doing right now, but there are only 22 volumes of Urasawa-output available for me to read, and I sure as hell did not want to squander those the weekend after I finished Pluto.
But it’s time now, and I’ve just finished the first volume, as the train that takes me back to Los Angeles passes through the Pacific coast. I pause from time to time and stare out of the window, taking in the sunshine that streams through. It’s a lovely day. As Urasawa jumps between 1969 and 1997, and I see childhood dreams and idealism flip to middle-aged resignation and ennui, I realize that I was only 10 years away from being a twentieth century boy myself.

(written on Saturday, on a train)

 

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Comics

Comics you should not read: Shadowland.

Once every 6 months, I get that urge again. The need to sit my ass down with a pile of the latest in buzzword comics that I keep hearing about.

Buzzword comics, you ask?

Blackest Night. Shadowland. Siege. Dark insert-Marvel-title-here. Flashpoint. Final Crisis.

You know, the kind of stuff mainstream comics still keeps putting out, probably hoping that their latest offering will cause hordes of unbelievingly masses – the kind of sinners that do not read comics at all, or worse, read those fancy graphic novelly titles, or horror of horrors – manga – will suddenly discover a copy of Dark Avengers (not to be confused with Dark New Avengers, or Dark Mighty Avengers) in the spinner rack of their local bookstore. And then their eyes will pop and their hearts would beat faster, when they realize what they have been missing all along, at which point they burn their copies of Strangers in Paradise and Azumanga Daioh, and spend the rest of their lives finding out every single issue where the Avengers have appeared in, just so  they can understand Dark Avengers completely.

Yes, I probably went overboard with the sarcasm. But seriously?

Fuck. This. Shit.

My latest incursion into this buzzword comics mess was something called Shadowland. All I knew about it was that it deals with Daredevil being more and more miserable, which has kind of been the theme of every Daredevil comic since 1979 (incidentally, I was born that year. That does not relate to anything I am saying right now, but just thought I would put it out there.) Apparenly this is what happened – Daredevil suddenly figures out that he owns The Hand. Which sounds vaguely dirty, but what we’re referring to here is a medieval group of ninjas that’s been a thorn in Murdock’s path ever since Franky Miller did things his way, mashing up Hell’s Kitchen with repeated readings of Lone Wolf and Cub. Ninjas in the Marvel universe, just so you know, refer to human-looking characters that jump off rooftops and then die. They are also known for talking in genre-speak – the way someone from India thinks  a waitress’s speech patterns by watching True Blood, or an writer from the USA thinks a Ninja would sound like. Or, to put it more simply, Ashok Banker’s writing. Kind of like this.

 

Something as badly-written as Shadowland does not even require the kind of effort I am putting into explaining it, but let me see if I can break it down easily.

Everybody thinks there is a problem.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, there is a problem. P.S The costume is now black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stop! Hammer-time! (Nothing like a fight sequence for plot development)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's not his fault. He's just possessed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Japanese Hangover Part 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh yeah, and somewhere in the story, just to show how dark and edgy Daredevil has become, this happens.

Bazinga!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes. Nothing that says ‘serious comics’ like a big fat kill.

There’re a bunch of tie-in books too, like every self-respecting crossover title should have. Needless to say, they add nothing to the story except for some more convoluted posturing of various characters who nobody would give a shit about. Moon Knight? Power Man?

I hate to think that there are people paying for this crap, or that there will be actual paper wasted to reprint these books as hardcovers and then trade paperbacks. That a bunch of ‘creative’ people still get together to come up with storylines like this, and there are editors who allow dialog and plot twists like this to tell a story, in this Age of Postmodern Irony, shows a lack of storytelling sense 101. Rating: 4 stars, out of a possible 4000.

 

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