Welcome to the Playpen, our space for ferrety banter and whimsical snippets of things that aren't quite long enough for articles (although they might be) but that caught your eye anyway.
Sorry, I'm not sure how specific to get. I don't want to make the conversation about me hating everyone else's favourite comics.
I've read PVP for a long time, although nowadays it seems mostly through habit. Somehow it reminds me of Garfield. I wonder if the new Star Wars sequel gets out before Darths and Droids gets to the end of the original trilogy?
Stuff I still read includes: Girl Genius, Order of the Stick, Questionable Content, Widdershins, Freefall, Yellow Peril, Johnny Walker, Wasted Talent, Weregeek, Star Power, PVP, Rusty & Co, Megatokyo, Flaky Pastry, and Darths and Droids. Countless others have fallen by the wayside due to lack of updates, getting annoying, apathy, forgetfulness or changing tastes.
Is it possible to miss the point of a comic? That seems kind of like missing the point of prose - I'm not sure it has one.
Some of my favourites through many years has been Girl Genius and Order of the Stick. What of Oglaf? It's pretty insane, I guess. And not safe for most professional situations.
I've never seen any KC Green stuff I didn't like. I really dig Camp Weedonwantcha at the moment. Dinosaur Comics is evergreen, Chainsaw Suit is more hit than miss, and Achewood seems to finally be getting its act together again.
I like plenty of webcomics, just not in a way which prompts me to Playpen about them very much (aside from Chainsaw Suit, which I've pushed on here from time to time when it especially hits the mark).
And yes, he does have some strange ideas about women, does old Wilkie. But at least it is offset by his willingness to treat his male protagonists with an absolutely merciless irony, as evidenced by Francis Clare Jr in No Name, and, even more tellingly, Allan Armadale - I think I have rarely seen a main protagonist being so relentlessly presented as an utter self-satisfied and blind imbecile (at least up to the point I'm at now), while still being completely goodhearted and somehow lovable. I don't know how Wilkie Collins manages to deliver such decent characterisation with that clunky paid-by-the-word prose of his, but he does. The Moonstone is another good example of this; the text somehow made me loathe Rachel Verinder throughout the entire first half, and then forced me to reconsider my first impulse bit by bit until it had me completely turned around.
I don't know why I'm finding Collins so compelling right now. Vast parts of the novels are quite tedious to slog through, the plots are terribly intricated and sometimes contrived, and watching his characters hurtling mindlessly towards their (at least temporary) doom makes me incredibly impatient with them. And still I read on...is it the characterisation? The implausible *omgzomg* revelations? The subtle use of irony? The strange witty or scathing bits scattered through the text ("her shoulders made ample amends for the misdemeanor in muslin which covered them")? The weird rants about random stuff (I'm looking forward to the one about the joggers)? Or maybe the quite effective, low-key and genuinely moving moments of humanity? Like, for example, one character bursting into tears simply because, as she is on the very verge of casting away everything she holds dear as well as her honour and respectability and condemning herself for life, a child in a park comes up to her, shows her his toy boat and gives her a kiss - and that simple innocent kindness just breaks her. Those little touches are incredibly well done, and I guess that it's what prevents the novels from being just bland and cheap mysteries.
Right, that's enough now, I'm getting as wordy as dear Wilkie himself.
It's very hard to do episodic storytelling at a pace of 8 pages per year.
The million-dollar question has to be what exactly Diaz is doing with his time. His pace has been glacial for years now, and it's not like he's working another job(?). He always seems to have time to come up with side projects that seem to peter out after a few months.
The guy who used to do Your Webcomic Is Bad... back in the day posts regularly on a forum I frequent, and he's noted that most of his old criticisms of Dresden Codak's problems from back in '08 still hold true. (And if you get him started on the subject of Diaz's redesigns, you're in for a fun night.)
It's very hard to do episodic storytelling at a pace of 8 pages per year.
EDIT: Also, way to get incredibly stroppy over a 3-or-4 stars out of 5 review, Diaz.
I found it a bit too tricky, or clever, at the beginning, for any real emotional engagement. With the setting and the neat fairy tale-real life mapping and even the "poor little rich girl" of the early soviet experience stuff. (Not necessarily the historical facts, just that it felt like it was couched in the language and style, and particularly sentiments of a contemporary, very western children's or YA story that didn't do much for me.)
But then as the book went on and actually got messier and less logical, and it became harder to simply dress the history or the characters onto the legend, or separate the fairy tale characters from reality, and particularly as the structures of reality and power established earlier began to fall apart and twist around...I have a very hard time putting my finger on why, exactly, but I ended loving the last third or so, and it got a genuine emotional reaction out of me.
Has anyone else heard of The Wicked + The Divine? It's by the same guys who did the Marvel Now! Young Avengers thingie, which I've had a peek at but not read yet (I'm quite disposed to like it purely on the strenght of their Latina Miss America, who appears in the first pages). I don't know what to think about The Wicked + The Divine - on the one hand, it looks insanely cool, but there is also a faint possibility of a certain problematic cultural appropriation...? I'll give it a go in any case. Maybe I should review it :)
Also, my Wilkie Collins-binge is still ongoing. Now that I've read four (well, three and a half) novels of his, I'm starting to see some connections - it's quite fun to see certain types of characters reused but illuminated from a completely different perspective, or plots that provide the basis material for long, tortuous intrigues in one novel being used as merely the starting point of another. And I think his long-winded sense of humour is growing on me. I NEED HELP.
I'm not sure. I guess we could pick things apart for cultural accuracy and whathaveyou, (ala, IIRC from an old discussion someplace, Valente herself does to Adam Robert's Yellow Blue Tibia,) but that just strikes me as a deeply uninteresting way to think about a book. I'm weirdly unfamiliar with Russian folklore despite it, um, er, being my first language (my parents read science fiction to me for bedtime stories and in general are a slight lassaize faire lot when it comes to parenting, I guess) and I did try to look at it without that knowledge while I was reading.
I agree it doesn't add up to any particular coherent mythology, but I still found something there, some underlying anger or grief or something like that, in speaking the war and the violence of the soviet experience.
Kit: Ein Gespenst geht um auf FerretBrain... ;)
[One translation - courtesy of ptolemaeus - later] Ah-ha-ha-ha, that's terrific.
Tamara: Valente is just such a skilled writer in a technical way, I think, that it kind of covers up the gaps in the actual contents.
One review of Deathless described the cumulative effect of Valente's prose as akin to "being beaten to death with an arrangement of dried flowers." I think there's some truth in that, at least in my own reaction to the text. I found this one more accessible than, say, Palimpsest, if only because I actually managed to finish it (which is more than I can say for most of the novels/short stories by her I've tried). But there are still moments when the stylistic flourishes make the text so opaque it's nearly impossible to tell what's going on.
Besides the prose, the more I ponder the, uh, folkloric substratum of the story, the less satisfied I am with it. Especially the superposition of Slavic fairy tale figures like Koschei or Baba Yaga onto a framework that I don't think gels very well with the source material. There's no organizing principle of a Czar of Life/Czar of Death behind any Russian fairy tales that I know of. Koschei is just a dude, y'know? Being familiar with the story of Marya Morevna somehow makes the ending of Deathless make even less sense...so while there are isolated moments I found quite beautiful, the whole doesn't quite cohere. That said, I'd love to read a review by someone more familiar with Russian folklore than I am--Poles and Russians have some fairy tales and figures in common, but there are also some pretty distinct differences.