Robin Marx's Writing Repository

UrbanFantasy

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on August 16, 2015.

The Graveyard Book

By Neil Gaiman – HarperCollins – September 30, 2008

Review by Robin Marx

This Jungle Book-inspired young adult fantasy by Neil Gaiman was pleasant, but nothing particularly profound.

The central premise, in which an orphaned toddler is adopted by the residents of a cemetery, is an interesting one, but the details of such a living arrangement felt insufficiently explored. The quirky antagonists of the story likewise felt underdeveloped and sort of a rehash of the much more interesting Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar from Neverwhere.

While I won't label it a flaw, per se, I did find it a bit jarring every time the Internet or other trappings of modern society were mentioned, as the book's voice has a very Edwardian feel (much like the artwork of Edward Gorey).

I didn't dislike this book, but it definitely felt like one of Gaiman's lesser works. It could be a worthwhile recommendation to boys and girls in late elementary school, but for the adult reader or fan of Gaiman there's not much to sink your teeth into.

★★★☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #UrbanFantasy #YoungAdult #TheGraveyardBook #NeilGaiman

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on October 31, 2012.

Witchblade Origins, Volume 1

By Various – Image – Top Cow – April 22, 2009

Review by Robin Marx

Collecting the first eight issues of the Witchblade comic in a convenient format, this graphic novel is likely to please existing fans. However, as a newcomer to Witchblade I found the artwork dated and uneven, characterization slight, and the plot clunky.

Witchblade, or at least the beginning collected here, seems very much like a product of its time. In the early '90s, Image Comics and its Top Cow imprint were finding their footing, darker heroes like Spawn were big, and artists like Rob Liefeld (hugely influential then, now a target of derision) received mainstream media attention. Witchblade became a significant part of the creator-owned boom and enjoyed a great deal of popularity. However, Witchblade shares a lot of the unfortunate quirks of comics from this era.

The artwork is a mixed bag. The late Michael Turner apparently started as a background artist, and the scenery on display here is well done. His character artwork is less consistent, however. His women tend to be somewhat aesthetically pleasing, until you notice the weirdly mannerist elongation of their legs and waists. His male characters are what I'd call “'90s badass”: with rippling muscles, bulky shoulders, surfer haircuts, and a tendency to stand with their faces partially concealed by dramatic shadows. When you can see them, the guys' faces are invariably covered in tons of inexplicable fine lines (not hatching, just lines), an artistic quirk that seems to have been borrowed from Liefeld.

The story is fairly clumsy, and manages to be both minimal and confusing at the same time. “Tough cop” (they call her a tough cop, but she didn't seem to be especially tough, nor much of a cop) Sara Pezzini acquires the mystical Witchblade gauntlet, attracting the interest of buff tycoon Ken Irons, who wants to further some vague scheme. Irons' '90s badass henchman Ian Nottingham (who dresses like Lestat and carries a katana) has a few run-ins with Pezzini, and there are hints that he may not be entirely loyal to his boss. There's a final showdown, and the eighth issue concludes. In addition to this, there are subplots about Pezzini's neighbor—a orphan fashion model who becomes involved with “edgy” bondage aficionados—and a Scientology-like organization that Irons is associated with. Neither of these subplots pay off in the issues collected here. There's also a lot of muddled exposition about the Witchblade's origins and capabilities.

The characters are pretty flat, and none of the emotional moments are very convincing. This is true of many comics, but the better series are able to make up for that deficiency with their action scenes. Unfortunately, many of the fight scenes in Witchblade are difficult to follow. There were multiple occasions where it was impossible to determine whether the titular weapon's tendrils were lashing out and spearing someone, or snapping back from them. As the title suggests, the Witchblade plays a fairly important role in the story, so this is a bit of a drawback.

Many comics get off to a rough start, and it's entirely possible that the art became more polished over time, the storytelling refined, and the characters endowed with more depth. Based on what I've seen here, however, I'm not particularly compelled to seek out subsequent volumes. If you already enjoy Witchblade, this is a satisfying collection. If you're not familiar with the comic, however, the '90s quirks and lack of substance may lead to disappointment.

★★☆☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #ComicReview #Superheroes #UrbanFantasy #WitchbladeOrigins #Witchblade

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on September 3, 2013.

Warm Bodies

By Isaac Marion – Atria Books – April 26, 2011

Review by Robin Marx

Warm Bodies is a zombie romance for young adult readers. I'm not generally interested in love stories—I don't necessarily dislike them either, they're just not something I go out of my way to seek out—and I've never been much of a YA reader (Hardy Boys excluded), but my enthusiasm for zombies led me to pick this book up. It has some issues, but overall it was a worthwhile experience.

My biggest issue was how it patterned itself after Romeo & Juliet. The allusions weren't something I was aware of going into the book, but they're so transparent that I couldn't help but pick up on them right away. While the author probably intended to add some heft and “a tale as old as time” dignitas to his story by drawing parallels between it and one of the most recognized pieces of English literature, Warm Bodies is actually diminished by the association. I bought this book because “zombie love story!” seemed fresh and exciting as a concept, but finding out what I was really holding was “Romeo & Juliet, but with zombies!” was a bit of a let down. It was like the author was telling me to moderate my expectations, saying “Let me level with you, buddy. This is a story you've read many times before, just with a bit of a spin on it.” Romeo & Juliet is such a played out and obvious source of inspiration when writing any kind of romance story that includes obstacles, and the book would've been stronger if Marion had skipped the heavy-handed references and done his own thing. Many plots end up resembling bits of Shakespeare unintentionally, anyway; at this point there's really no need for people to go out of their way to crib from the dead bard.

The romance aspect was so-so. This would've been a very different book had it been written by Clive Barker, but this being a YA novel any squickiness or uncomfortable elements (the interesting stuff) pertaining to a love affair between a human girl and an animated corpse are hand-waved away and/or presented in a sanitized manner. Characterization was likewise a little sleight. It was difficult to understand R's infatuation with Julie, apart from what she symbolized (i.e., vibrant life in a dead, gray world). She was spunky and resilient, but her gal-pal Nora seemed like more fun. Perhaps the attraction can be chalked up to some lingering chemical reaction left over from when R eats Julie's ex-boyfriend's brain. Likewise, it was a little hard to see why she was so interested in R (a dead guy who killed and ate a bunch of her friends), apart from him acting protective and paying over the requisite number of niceness tokens.

While a flimsy, not-quite-believable romance would seem pretty harmful in a book billed as a love story, fortunately the novel shines in other areas. Protagonist “R” and his undead associates are remarkably highly functioning zombies, and their culture is fascinating. While I'm usually a Romero purist when it comes to the presentation of zombies, I liked the idea that zombies could communicate with each other and had their own customs, and that the living were just too preoccupied with fear to notice. The human survivors' post-apocalyptic lifestyle is interesting as well, albeit rendered in less detail. The first person narrative was a high point as well. I enjoyed seeing the world through the eyes of a zombie.

Postscript: Apparently the author is working on both a prequel and a sequel to this novel. While that seems like a wise commercial choice, I'm not quite sure I'll want to pick up either. The zombie/survivor conflict in Warm Bodies was exciting, but given the book's conclusion it's difficult to see what more could be done with it. We'll see.

★★★☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #UrbanFantasy #YoungAdult #WarmBodies #IsaacMarion

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on August 7, 2014.

Eight Million Gods

By Wen Spencer – Baen Books – May 15, 2013

Review by Robin Marx

There's a saying among expats in Japan: “If you stay here for a week, you write a book. If you stay here for a month, you write an article. If you stay here for a year, you don't write anything.” I suspect Wen Spencer has spent a week in Japan.

I really wanted to like this book. Japan appeals to me enough for me to have made it my home for more than a decade, and I've always been fascinated by Japanese folklore and mythology. The idea of a book dealing with folklore in modern Japan appealed, but unfortunately this book falls down on several fronts.

The Japan presented in this book is a mixed bag. Some aspects (perhaps not coincidentally those that a Western tourist would encounter over the course of a short stay, such as subway station coin lockers, or a description of the Gion festival) are represented authentically, with almost fetishistic detail. Other bits are embarrassingly off. The use of the Japanese language is frequently suspect; Osaka locale “Dōtonbori” is misspelled consistently throughout the book, as is the “jorogumo” monster name. Prices for things tend to off by a factor of ten, and the protagonist shops with bills that don't exist (¥100,000?). It's also a bit strange as someone who has lived in rural Japan to see tanuki (“raccoon dogs,” which basically combine the least threatening aspects of both animals) presented as a dangerous menace. Most of the Japanese mythology was represented accurately, but fairly shallowly. It was blatantly obvious that this was Japan viewed through an anime/manga lens; there's actually a pretty cringe-worthy section where characters remark “This is just like that bit in Inuyasha! Or Naruto!” I guess this is a book you can judge by its katana-wielding schoolgirl cover.

None of the characters really appealed to me. Heroine Nikki has hypographia, a mental disorder characterized by a severe compulsion to write, but this felt like a trivial depiction, as is common for obsessive compulsive disorder. Her hypographia turns out to be more of a supernatural gift than a mental disorder, which could excuse some of this, but it still reminded me of flaky girls using “I'm SO OCD!” as an excuse for minor personality quirks, when the real thing isn't so cute and harmless.

It also bothered me that the only prominent Japanese characters were basically spirits on the periphery. The main character, her friends, the shadowy organization operating in Japan, are all foreign. Leo is half-Japanese, at least, but he was raised in Hawaii by a Brit and serves little purpose in the plot but to beat people up, get beat up, and be sexy for the heroine. The actual Japanese characters are basically all deities, including dead historical—although this strangely isn't played up in the text—figure Taira no Atsumori. It's fun reading about foreigners active in Japan (hell, I AM one), but reducing Japanese people to props, obstacles, and Yoda-like mentors does them a great disservice, especially after borrowing so many of the cool trappings of their culture.

The plot feels fast-paced, but there were so many dead ends and tangents that even with its exuberant tone, this book was a struggle to get through. There's a late plot twist involving protagonist Nikki's mother that feels extremely contrived, and the book's final confrontation is breathtakingly anticlimactic.

If you like Young Adult books, anime, and dream about maybe visiting Japan someday, this may be a good book for you. If you're expecting a more adult book (it wasn't marketed as YA, although it should have been), or if you're more acquainted with Japan and/or less than enthused about the manga Inuyasha, this is probably one to skip.

★★☆☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #UrbanFantasy #Japan #EightMillionGods #WenSpencer

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on August 6, 2011.

My Life as a White Trash Zombie

By Diana Rowland – DAW – July 5, 2011

Review by Robin Marx

This was a good book, but not a great one. It was a quick, pleasant read but one hindered by a few issues.

Much of the book reads like someone had taken a vampire novel and did a find-and-replace, swapping out “vampire” for “zombie” and “blood” for “brains”. That wasn't a major issue for me, since I like newbie vampire stories almost as much as I like zombies, but I can't help feeling more could've been done with zombie tropes to set this book apart from well-trodden vampire ground.

There are a couple other under-developed elements to the story as well. There are some hints about a nascent zombie society, trafficking in cadaver brains, but not much is done with it. There's a half-hearted mystery about a zombie killer, but this is only really brought to the forefront and, somewhat awkwardly, wrapped up in the last twenty pages of the book.

The most nagging issue has to do with the title. The narrator, Angel, is presented as white trash, but there's not much to support that, apart from some superficial set dressing (she drinks too much and does pills, she has a foul mouth). Part of the story is about how she discovers self worth, and how she isn't as trashy as other people and she herself believed, but even with that her voice comes off as too articulate and self-reflective, too suburban mom to sell the “white trash” element promised in the title (and the fantastic cover).

Even with the issues mentioned above, this was still an entertaining read, easily recommended to zombie fans. Whether or not a sequel is coming is left ambiguous, but I think I'd have to think about it before picking up any further installments. The itch has been scratched.

★★★☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #UrbanFantasy #MyLifeAsAWhiteTrashZombie #DianaRowland

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on May 5, 2014.

Blackbirds

By Chuck Wendig – S&S/Saga Press – May 5, 2015

Review by Robin Marx

Apart from all the vampire stories I've read through the years, urban fantasy isn't really my thing, but I picked this book up because of Chuck Wendig's interesting writing blog and the fact that he's worked on some roleplaying games I've enjoyed. Blackbirds was a quick, mostly fun read, but ultimately I felt it lacked substance, suffering from characterization and plotting issues as well.

Blackbirds introduces Miriam Black, a woman in her mid-twenties who possesses the ability to touch another person and see the moment of their death. For obvious reasons, this power causes her considerable distress, inspiring her to avoid becoming too close to others, leading a reckless life as a drifter. Things are further complicated when she has a premonition of a vicious murder in which the victim's final word is her name.

Miriam is an interesting character, but I also found her slightly off-putting. Wendig goes to great lengths to shake up stereotypes of what female characters can be like (as if challenging some imagined sexist reader) by making her a hard-drinking, chain-smoking, foul-mouthed brawler that sleeps around. That's fine, I can get behind that, but I think that combination of traits would be equally obnoxious in a male character, especially exaggerated to the extent they are here. Flawed anti-heroes and anti-heroines are great, but unrepentant losers are less appealing.

Miriam's dialogue frequently grated as well. I enjoy Quentin Tarantino's work, but all too often it felt like Wendig was likewise trying too hard with the profanity, like a gleeful junior high school nerd trying to look cool in front of older kids. A line like “Fuck off and die, fuckpie!” doesn't really strike me as a cutting display of defiance, it's more like something from one of South Park's lamer episodes.

There were some other more minor issues as well. While the female thug is fun (with two great chapters written from her perspective), the antagonists are basically cartoon characters, way too psychopathic to be the organized crime figures they're described as. And despite all the buildup, the end was a little unconvincing as well (“You can't change fate...wait!”).

I suspect that devoted urban fantasy fans would enjoy this book more than I did. It wasn't bad, per se, just not my preferred thing. I also don't have heart palpitations when I encounter women (gasp!) that drink and swear, so perhaps that particular selling point was lost on me.

I'm not compelled to rush out and purchase the next book in the series, but I might give the STARZ TV series a shot if that becomes a reality.

★★☆☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #UrbanFantasy #Blackbirds #ChuckWendig