GAME OF THRONES: a game of sticks

Here's my view from page 250.

Gareth-Michael Skarka says in comments that this is "THE MOMENT -- same for everybody. It's totally where Martin sets the hook. After that, he's got us and he knows it."

Be that as it may, an even more impressive sequence follows, that convinced me I might truly be reading something special--the buildup, delivery, and horrible aftermath of a scene that centers at first around a boy and a girl sparring with sticks.

It's tremendously revealing of everyone involved, on multiple levels. It's hard to even know where to begin in analyzing why it works so well to such powerful effect(s). Maybe we can hash it out in comments? I'll just toss this out there for now: "Put away your swords, all of you. The wolf is her little pet, that's all." Oof--how those words, sweet in the moment (and apparently sincere), only make the consequences that much more appalling, because they show that Joffrey gets it.

Happy birthday, Will Eisner

Wow.

GAME OF THRONES: "The things I do for love."

Well, now I know why Sean urged me to "Give it till page 80 or so." Till page 85, to be exact. Bran's chapter of scurrying over a castle/city's rooftops definitely hit one of my sweet spots, and, not to give anything away, but if it really ended the way it seemed to, that's a pretty shocking development.

The part I don't love about fantasy doorstops

Both Lost Season 5 and the next installment of this stewardess novel series are somewhere out there in Media Mail limbo. Sean just mentioned that he's currently rereading Game of Thrones, and since I actually got my hands on a copy the other day, I figured this was as good a time as any to go ahead and start in on it. I'll take Sean's word that it will grow on me, and stick with it, but almost 50 pages in, I'm not too thrilled to be flipping back and forth between a frakking map and a frakkinger Appendix of dramatis personae (i.e., "Wait!--whose sister from which house is married to what lord from where?!?"). At least there's not a Glossary, which would be frakkingest of all.

THE ODESSA FILE by Frederick Forsyth (Viking 1972)

An old Holocaust survivor kills himself in Hamburg--an event bound to be overshadowed by breaking news of the Kennedy assassination. Nevertheless, young reporter Peter Miller finds something in the suicide's diary that's an even greater bombshell because of his personal connection to it. It drives him to hunt down a Nazi war criminal in hiding--a quest that puts him in league with Mossad and pushes him to infiltrate ODESSA, an elaborate international "underground railroad" for former SS officers (as part of the vetting process, he actually has to whip it out and prove he's not circumcised!).

What is it that Miller learns from the diary? Despite being in his point of view for most of the novel, we don't find out until the "climactic" confrontation. That's the central mystery and Big Reveal of the whole story. Which is a shame, because it's no great shakes--if two or three cliche possibilities spring to mind, I can pretty well assure you that you've guessed it already.

In addition to the artificiality of the way the information is withheld, and the predictability of it, I think Big Reveals make wonderful turning points but weak, gimmicky resolutions. If I were keeping a bibliography of evidence for that, I could certainly add Odessa File to it.

In general, this is an awfully clunky read. It's basically a bunch of ripped-from-the-headlines infodumps and potboiler devices held together with "logic" that doesn't even last for as long as it takes to set the book down and walk over to the proverbial fridge. Just as one f'rinstance, when calling around to check on Miller's bona fides, the ODESSA vetter glaringly fails to ask someone an obvious question that would immediately expose Miller.

As for the "characters," it's almost fair to say there aren't any, to speak of. Real-life Nazi hunter Simon Weisenthal puts in a cameo appearance, and he's the only one who shows a spark of genuine animation, in a passage that could damn near double as a Sunday supplement puff-profile.

It's sad, really--the high-concept of a non-Jewish German infiltrating an organization like ODESSA for vengeful motives nobody can guess is a nifty one. I would love to see it done well. The execution here is poor, however, and I can't recommend this.

(I read a library hardcover with no dustjacket, but a quick search of the internets reveals this novel never had a groovy cover in any form, so that's why no scan or borrowed image.)

THE STEWARDESS by Julia Percivall (Avon 1973)

This novel relates the "adventures" of Betsy, a redheaded stewardess, on two round-trip flights between New York and London. It's good enough in certain regards that its shortcomings are especially confounding. Betsy and the other stewardess characters are delineated well enough to be interesting to read about, if only their encounters and adventures were interesting. Unfortunately, that's not the case. Betsy spends the whole first third of the novel nannying a poor little rich kid who's flying alone from one wealthy divorced parent to another. Worse, the kid's father doesn't even come in a timely manner to collect him at the airport, so she continues to keep the child company for almost the entirety of her stay in London. Fucking dullsville. On the flight back to New York, she broods sadly over a the unhappiness of a melancholy starlet flying in first class. Boooring. Once back in New York, we find that her boyfriend is some creepy egomaniac of an artist who always puts her down, which is far from enjoyable to read. Nothing of any note happens on the next flight to London or back. Then she breaks up with her boyfriend, and he gets abusive and stalkery, which is even less fun to read about. Then she gets the flu, and spends a ridiculous number of pages feeling miserable in bed and lurching to the toilet to get sick. Not exactly what I imagined when the back cover blurb promised a peek into the "swinging singles apartments . . . where the stewardess spends her off duty hours!"

Ye gads, there are two more novels in this series. Here's hoping Betsy's life starts to move in a more swinging direction! Sadly, that doesn't seem too likely, since she ends this novel practically engaged to a stick-in-the-mud father-figure pilot. Ugh.

By the way, that's Robert McGinnis cover art that some fucking douchebag defaced with a price sticker--as if there weren't room anywhere else on the cover for it to go. Christ, I swear, some fucking people!

Cute monsters strike again!

(image courtesy of Scott Brothers)

A few new participants have submitted contributions since last week's roundtable discussion, "What do cute versions of monsters tell us about horror?" (do check back on the earlier articles, too, for some excellent comments). I'd hoped to post the links along with my own follow-up thoughts, but the latter are taking me so long to straighten out that I don't want to sit on the links any longer:

• Strange Kids Club
• Max the Drunken Severed Head
• Archetypal Archive (and Part 2)
• Zombos' Closet

Am I missing anyone? By no means is the discussion closed, if anyone else wants to contribute--just let me know, so I can link!

Merchandising brilliance beyond my puny understanding

I saw mention recently that buzz around the upcoming HBO minseries has been boosting book sales of George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones. In light of my recent unsuccessful effort to buy the book, I wondered how that could be. I have errands in Macon today, checked ahead on bn.com, and this location was supposed to have it in stock. When I went in, though, it wasn't on the shelf in the scifi/fantasy section. I figured maybe someone thought it "transcends the genre," and shelved it in general fiction, but no, wasn't there either. This time, instead of just looking on one of the in-store terminals, I decided to ask an actual human about it. Forthwith, the cute girl from the Information desk led me over to a nook (not the Nook reader--I mean a literal nook) where a spinner rack of "Hot Items!" or something was gathering dust. A whole bunch of copies were on it. What do I know? At least this time I got the damn book.

PAPERBACK FANATIC #17

Over the course of my paperback hiatus, I foolishly let a few issues of Paperback Fanatic slip by me, and now they're all sold out. Fortunately, I seem to have gotten the last (or close enough to it) copy of issue 17--which would seem to make reviewing it here pointless, as you can't buy one if you don't have it already. Well, the point is to alert you to how awesome this print periodical is (see also my posts on previous issues), so you can place your subscription and not miss any further issues.

Since I last read it, the format has undergone an overhaul, very much for the better. The page-size has been cut in half, thus:

The trade-off is that it now contains color illustrations inside, not only on the covers. Since color is such a vital element in the beauty of vintage paperback covers, the move makes tons of sense. Owner/EIC Justin Marriott takes lavish advantage of his new color-print capacity to eye-poppingly gorgeous effect. I don't miss the extra real-estate of the former page size--and in fact, paradoxically, the smaller pages make larger, full-page illustrations more feasible. You really need to see it to appreciate it, so here are a couple of sample page-spreads, to drive home what a visual treat Marriott serves up here:


Dazzling as the cover-reproductions are, the real reasons to read Paperback Fanatic are the meticulous articles that delve into the novels themselves and the authors, publishers, industries, and circumstances that produced them. The contents of this issue are entirely representative in that regard:

• the cover-story on New Worlds magazine, specifically under Michael Moorcock's stewardship, with an accompanying interview of contributor/editor Langdon Jones
• a profile of publisher Fawcett, with a focus on the horror output of its Gold Medal and Crest lines
• an article by Andy Decker (occasional contributor to this blog!) about the Nick Carter men's adventure series
• a feature on "blaxploitation" author Joseph Nazel
• a firsthand report on the Zardoz Book Fair

Marriott and other contributors bring a uniformly high caliber of knowledge, care, and research to these articles, and deliver them in an appealingly engaged and engaging voice. Having contributed one myself several issues ago, I can tell you I went quite a ways above and beyond my far less formal book reviews for Groovy Age.

I daresay I know a thing or two about groovy horror paperbacks, and yet Paperback Fanatic never fails to add something I haven't yet heard of or considered to my to-get list--if it doesn't immediately prompt me to open abebooks or ebay in another browser tab. I mean, Jesus, just look at Gwen in Green above! Yep, gotta get it.

If you like vintage paperbacks at all, even if you're not quite a fanatic, you owe it to yourself to check out Paperback Fanatic.

What's Groovy

Ade Salmon's art is nominated for a Rondo Award! Ade's a fantastic artist. I wish he did more comics. On a more personal note, he was crucially instrumental in introducing me to vast swathes of groovy-horror material that ultimately prompted me to start this blog.


Sean T. Collins and Matt Wiegle's Destructor webcomic moves beyond (very nicely!) colorized material that's already been published in b/w minicomics, into a brand new story arc we've never seen before. Looking forward to it!

So LOST without you

Well, I was hoping to come home to find Season 5 waiting for me in the mail. Nope.

LOST spoiler alert

Writing about George R. R. Martin's Song of Ice and Fire novels, Sean T. Collins warns, "You want to stay as spoiler-free as possible about these books, that’s all I’ll say. Like, if you start reading them, don’t even read the back-cover or inside-flap blurbs. (Seriously, DON’T.)"

Well, when preparing to watch Lost Season 4, don't even look at the front of the packaging. Above is the sleeve it comes in, but as soon as you slide it out, here's what's the front of the case itself looks like:

Fortunately, I'm a) not observant enough to notice that until I've finished watching the season and was putting it away, and b) not the kind of fan who cares enough about this kind of mystery to be very bothered even if I did spot it.

Even so, that's a pretty blatant spoiler to one of the season's central questions right there on the front cover. Who thought that was a great idea?

In other Lost dvd packaging news, two of my four sets (so far) have busted hubs that won't hold a disc. Seriously, how long have discs been around, and why is this still such a common fucking issue?!?

BLUE LIMBO by Frank Lauria (Avon 1991)

This appears to conclude the Dr. Orient saga, and what a groovy horror series it has been!

Naturally enough, the good Doctor falls for two beautiful dangerous women again. One is an evil voodoo priestess and the other is a good-at-heart voodoo priestess for an evil voodoo priest. Yeah, we're back to voodoo again (last seen in . . . The Priestess), and this take seems partly inspired by Wes Craven's movie Serpent and the Rainbow. If that sounds like a derivative retread, the horror aspects of it kind of are, but it's still a worthy finale to Orient's story. His involvement in this case reconnects him with some old friends and ultimately wraps up the whole dodging-the-CIA subplot that's been running for several novels previously. We hit other familiar beats, too--I think in every novel, he meets a new Master of Serene Knowledge to help him on his journey.

Orient is something of a throwback to pulp action heroes, but updated for the Age of Aquarius, with the mysticism dialed way up and the two-fistedness dialed quite a ways down (though not all the way). As such characters go, he's remarkably realized, carefully observed, and a pleasure to read no matter what situation he faces.