The Sandman: The Kindly Ones (9)

Yes, yes. I'm behind. I finished The Kindly Ones this evening, and I still need to write about the last three books. Yikes! Maybe Sunday afternoon I'll have time to catch up.

So, it's Sunday afternoon, and I'm catching up. :) The Kindly Ones was a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions, and I truly believe it will someday be regarded as such by people much more important than myself. Our basic plot: Dream has killed his son, Orpheus, and the Kindly Ones (the Furies) are now at liberty to pursue him because they are "allowed" to avenge blood debts. Hippolyta Hall (mother to Daniel) has her son stolen, and she blames Dream, despite the fact that Dream does not steal her son initially. She is the one who awakens the furies wrath against dream, and it only spirals downward from there. We also discover in this volume that Nuala is in love with Dream, and we see the reappearance of Thessaly as Larissa. She kind of falls in love with Dream too. Dream is one of those tortured souls that attracts women apparently. I wouldn't say I'm in love with him, but I can certainly see the attraction. So Dream dies, but Death spares him being tortured further by the furies. My favorite characters were definitely Matthew (the raven), Rose Walker, and Delirium. In some ways, Dream ceases to be a character in this book, but I'm not sure I could explain why. He just reacts to things rather than actually initiating action himself.

This book was definitely less sad than it might have been without the preparation of the previous two books. Still, the end of a myth is sad no matter what, even if it's a myth we've only known briefly (just this month, in fact). I did keep hoping throughout that Dream wouldn't die. I know that's childish, but I don't think it's fair to expect my readings to be that different than the average person. I'm sad when Romeo and Juliet die too. I keep wishing that they will work it out differently no matter how many times I read the tale.

Okay, so all that being said, I want to mention artwork. This volume was very "cartoony." I'm sure there's a technical word for this style of artwork, but I don't know what it is. The best way I know to describe is that the curves are more emphasized than the lines. It makes everyone seem less sinister and more innocent. There's nothing really hideous here: even the scene where "A makeshift barge made of dead flesh is slowly poled down a river of cold semen" becomes more about the words than the image this way. I normally really like cartoons, and I like that style of artwork. But, it definitely does not do the horror genre as well as some others. For the first time since reading this series (a pitfall of having several different artists), I felt like I was reading an illustrated story rather than a graphic novel. However, this is also the first book I've read in which I've found panels that I would blow up and hang in my bedroom...actually, I might just do that. It could be my next art project :).

I'm thinking about writing a longer blog on the series as a whole. I want to discuss this issue of dying mythologies at length, and it doesn't really fit with the purpose of these individual "reviews," if that's even what they can be called. We'll have to see if I make time to do it.

The Sandman: Worlds' End (8)

So much for quitting Sandman for a while. I was in a weird mood last night, so I picked up World's End, and I finished it today after I exported my grades. I have a bad feeling about this one, and I want to remind myself to talk about the artwork again. But, quite obviously, I still need to finish my blog on Brief Lives, so one thing at a time, eh?

Oh the perils of blogging out of order once the plot thickens! My first thought about this book is that it is out of order! Haha, what I mean to say is that the events in this book take place after the events in the next book. One of the introductions mentions that Gaiman is meticulous about time, but I really beg to differ. Perhaps he knows when all the events take place, but it would take a thesis to figure out the timeline for The Sandman.

Worlds' End is another collection of stories. I guess it's a function of the medium. They were produced monthly, and every once in a while, it must be nice to buy your comic once a month and have the story actually be self-contained. Dream is in most of the stories, but not all. Still the book is about him, and that becomes clear at the end of The Kindly Ones. No matter. The basic plotline is that a large group of travelers are stuck in an inn at the Worlds' End (a place where all the worlds end) because there is a reality storm. We don't know why there is a reality storm, but if we read Brief Lives (and we did), we can surmise that the reality storm might have something to do with Dream having killed Orpheus. The main characters are: Charlene Mooney, Brant Tucker, Klaproth, Cluracain, Jim (only he's really a girl named Peggy), and Petrefax. I say these are the main characters because we learn their names, but really they are only fleeting characters in the greater drama. In any case, much like The Canterbury Tales, each traveler must tell a tale to pass the time at the inn. Actually I think this makes it more like The Decameron.

Mister Gaheris tells a tale of a dreaming city and the man who roamed its streets. Cluracain tells a story of envoy to Aurelian, a city where the position of Lord Carnal and Psychopomp have been usurped by one individual. Cluracain's story is interesting because the climactic moment occurs when he decides to tell the truth about something. He says of his species, "Sometimes we will say true things. And these things we say are neither glamour nor magic, neither prediction nor curse: But sometimes what we say is true." Again, we come back to that recurring theme in Sandman about truth being something other than what has really happened. It's different from reality. Anyway, Jim tells a story titled "Hob's Leviathan," which features our friend Hob Gadling. This story was kind of interesting because of the possibilities for gender analysis. Hob tells Peggy that he is "Old enough to hae learned to keep my mouth shut about seeing a bloody great snake in the middle of the ocean," and somehow this is evidence that Peggy can trust him with her secret as well. The idea of the great submerged snake and the great submerged secret have some possibilities. The next story is told by an unknown slightly Asian looking man, and it is about Prez Rickard, the boy President. There was something very cool about the folding of mythologies, but other than that the story was a little weird. I might have to give it some more thought. The final story was told by Petrefax, and it was about Litharge, the Necropolis. There were a few tales imbedded within this one, and I enjoyed it. There is an interesting foreshadowing/warning about having the tale about the Necropolis in this book. The citizens of the Necropolis are supposed to respect the dead, respect the passing of life, and it is certainly placed so that we heed their beliefs.

The ending of the book is the part most worth writing home about, however, at least in terms of the larger Sandman plot. At the end of the book you see a funeral procession where the Endless are pallbearers. I admit to having read the wikipedia page on The Sandman early in the series, so I had a pretty good guess who was in the casket. I won't say more about it now, but it will come up again in The Kindly Ones.

The Sandman: Brief Lives (7)

These blogs are getting terribly long. I don't suppose that's the function of a blog. I better learn to keep it short! :) This is a problem with me with everything. I talk too much and I write too much! I'll try to keep this one shorter.

Wow! Sad! I really liked this book, but the ending was sad and the introduction (it came at the end--haha) was really, really sad. The conclusion Peter Straub gleans from the book is that the Endless "are merely mythic patterns, and as such do not have the authority to interfere in human lives." Having read so far ahead at this point, I have realized that is Brief Lives that sets up this simple fact as Dream's hamartia (not hubris--people are always getting these confused). Dream's whole existence is based on his responsibility, for the dreamworld, for the dreamers, for the dreams and nightmares. He justifies his actions according to the rules he has created or inherited and set up as his purpose in life. And in many ways he needs Delirium to show him this truth, both literally and figuratively. The character Delirium with her childlike innocence can ask questions and make statements that Dream's rather left brained mind cannot fathom. She tries to lead him to a greater freedom by leaving his beaten path. There is definitely something to be said about the fact that Dream apologizes to Delirium on at least two occassions in this book, but he never manages to apologize for what he needs to apologize for.

The plot of this book is quite unified and quite simple. Delirium decides she needs a change, so she goes to ask her siblings if they will help her seek Destruction, the prodigal brother. Destiny and Desire flat out refuse. Despair refuses slightly more gently. Death manages somehow not to get involved (she does have a job to do), and Dream ends up being the only of the Endless who is willing at all to help Delirium. The quest is multifaceted. Dream needs to get out of his morose mood; another lover has left him in mourning for his humanity (he cannot keep a lover because no woman (or man) can compete with his sense of responsibility as a quasi-god). As the story progresses he is also seeking some closure to the deaths the beginning of the quest incurs. Again he feels beholden to the mortals he has hurt. Finally the quest brings him back to unfinished business with his son Orpheus who he abandoned earlier in life. Orpheus manages to barter his death (which he has been seeking for a thousand years) for information about where Destruction is. Delirium gains Destruction's dog, Barnabus, and Dream returns to his castle to brood over his son's death.

The story is very circular. It begins with Orpheus's guardian's cheerful acceptance and Dream's brooding, and it ends the same way. The highlight seems to be on the two different mindsets. When Dream returns to the Dreaming, he tells Lucien, "For the rest of today I will be retiring to my quarters. I do not wish to be disturbed." While he is dying, Andros muses, "It is going to be a beautiful day." Andros appreciates and accepts his brief life, while Dream has spent the majority of his (much less) brief life feeling sorry for himself. Dream is an interesting character. He always tries to do the right thing. Whenever one of his siblings tells him he has made a mistake, he sets off to correct it. But he never seems to get the point that the real joy comes from treating people (and gods or whatever) the right way the first time. I really like him. I like that he seems to have a sense of honor. When I said he behaves in a godlike fashion, I meant it. He definitely has a code of behavior that surpases that of the mortal world. It just doesn't seem to be enough, and it bothers me that even our gods are saddled with these eternal questions of responsibility to others versus responsibility to self, too much work versus too much play, the constant struggle for balance. Can't life be simple for anyone? It's very frustrating, but it must be a truth. I believe that truth comes from our representations. Truth does come to light with the creation of art. Sometimes though it doesn't make it any easier to swallow.

On a happier note, I adore Delirium. I don't know if she is my favorite character, but I really, really like her. She is so cute about her "milk chocolate people:" "Have you got any little milk chocolate people? About threee inches high? Men AND women? I'd like some of them filled with raspberry cream." And when she drives: "I'm good at this, aren't I? I'm really good. I knew I'd be good at driving. Bzuum. Bzuum. Dream? Look at me! Look at me driving!" And, probably most importantly, she accepts truth in a way that Dream cannot. When they finally find Destruction and he explains that he will not return to his realm and make things as they were before, she simply says, "I thought you would," and it's over. She doesn't beg and she doesn't plead. It's simple for her. Perhaps craziness does make things simple.

I'm finding it harder and harder to write frivilously about these books. Straub says, "If this isn't literature, nothing is," and he nails it. Of course, I am getting further and further from my "near instant reaction too." It's hard to find time to write AND read, but still, the themes are just too weighty. What started out simply has become a quagmire of great ideas, and I suppose that is what literature is: a quagmire of great ideas. Still, I must try (it is my passion after all).

The Sandman: Fables and Reflections (6)

Like Dream Country, Fables & Reflections is a series of short stories in which Dream appears. There are nine stories, and many of them deal with historical figures. The stories are well organized; while many will have their favorites, they build from somewhat cute to serious to rather mind-boggling. I was especially fond of "Three Septembers and a January" and "The Parliament of Rooks." I enjoyed "Orpheus" as well, but just as in the story about A Midsummer Night's Dream, the actual story is not all that original, only the telling is original. I'm going to go through them in order though because I think I have something I wanted to say about each.

I have never seen a book do what Fables & Reflections did with"Fear of Falling." The story starts right on the first page. I wasn't sure that my book wasn't damaged. The copyright page, the table of contents, and the introduction all come after "Fear of Falling." The story itself was kinda cute, but it was fairly predictable. What intrigued me was the artwork. I am way out of my league discussing comic book artwork. I am only now starting to understand how many different people are required to make the artwork: there's an illustrator or person who draws the pictures, then there's an inker who puts the color in, and there's even a person who just does lettering. That's what I'm gathering from the credits and bio pages anyway. The styles are really different between different artists. It's kinda like the difference between the animation in Sleeping Beauty and Aladdin. It's just got a different feel. Okay, so back to "Fear of Falling." The faces were shaded very differently. Everyone seemed a little shady, and I'm not sure that that was consistent really with the story or even the spirit of the story, but it was interesting. Also, the characters looked stretched. Everyone was just a little overly tall and thin. It kinda reminded me of a Hellboy comic my boyfriend showed me. I wonder if there's a name for this style of artwork. There was a lot of shadow, and the shadow was black, not gray or deeper colored. It was black. And, as a side note, Morpheus was a little less attractive that way.

I found Gene Wolfe's introduction interesting. He writes, "Do you read introductions? I do, and after having read a good many of them, I am sadly aware that most of us who write them do not know what they are supposed to accomplish, which is to enable you to start the stories without embarassment." I hadn't thought about how rarely people actually use introductions to introduce stories, but it's true, hardly anyone does. However, when Wolfe does get around to introducing the characters, he does it in a strange way. He gives us the literary/historical context behind the main characters, but he does not tell us anything that would enable us to have a conversation with the characters. He definitely leaves the human interest for Gaiman. He tells us that Caius is Emperor Augustus, but he doesn't tell us, "Hey, that's Caius, he's an okay guy, but don't mention Caesar; they had a sticky relationship." But I'm really glad I read this introduction. If I ever have to write an introduction of my own someday, I'll be sure to remember Wolfe's advice. Though I can't imagine why I would need to write an introduction.

"Three Septembers and a January" is a story about a challenge between Despair, Desire, and Dream. I liked it a lot. I liked Joshua, and I loved the fact that Dream was able to defeat his Despair by giving him the dream that he was someone. Some of it was obviously unrealistic: a newspaper would never really publish a letter claiming that one was emperor of the United States, for example. But the storyline was a hopeful one, and the minor appearances of Delirium and Death were fun. The scene between Dr. Pain and Joshua was a priceless little bit of Buddhist philosophy. I will eventually share this story with my mother. I may get her to read all the stories, but I definitely want her to read this one.

"Thermidor" is about the French Revolution, which I incidentally just learned about this past summer during my Romantic Poetry class. The main character is Lady Johanna Constantine, who I guess is in some way related to the other Constantines. Trying to protect the head of Orpheus she attempts to get it out of France, but she is waylaid by Louis-Antoine St. Just and Monsieur Robespierre. In the spirit of their revolution, they don't want any religious artifacts roaming around France. When the two are finally confronted with the head of Orpheus, they crack and can no longer run their country. The message seems to be that the way to end a bloody, misguided revolution is to bring a magic head to sing of liberty and freedom. This is, of course, a less than satisfactory answer to one of life's great questions, but...there you have it.

"The Hunt" is a story about a family of werewolves, but you don't know this until thirteen pages into the story. It was kind of romantic, but tales about vampires and werewolves often are these days. I still want to know why the werewolf man walks away from the sleeping "princess" figure toward the end. I guess true love conquers all? The grandfather telling the story was really pretty cute, and I think there are a variety of messages the young girl could take away from the story.

"August" is about Caius Agustus the Roman Emperor after Caesar spending a day each year as a beggar. I think I understood the message of the story. A lot of these stories are about boundaries, this one perhaps more than most. Caius says, "Firstly, Terminus, the god of boundaries. Jupiter must bow to him; boundaries are the most important of things, Lycius." In many ways, the boundaries Caius sets up for Rome are his way to rebel against Caesar, but in other ways, they are boundaries of morality and behavior. After telling Lycius that the number of men he has killed is countless, Caius seems to need a definite end, both physical and temporal, for the empire and its repercussions. I realize that I am talking about these stories like they all have morals, but the book is titled Fables & Reflections, so I don't feel too bad about it. Normally, I try not to talk about literature that way.

Fiddler's Green reappears in "Soft Places" (see The Doll's House), and we meet Marco Polo and Rustichello. The story is reallyabout the soft places in memory and dream where we can get stuck. That is a little obvious, but you know what I mean. Marco Polo almost did not exist because he travelled to a soft place. Dream tells him, "You come in, you do not go out again," but he eventually gets him out. Good ole Dream, huh? Time is an interesting construct in this story. Structurally the layers are interesting. Marco Polo meets a man he will not meet in his life for many years, Fiddler's Green shows up to escape one of Dream's romantic moods, and Dream himself shows up just after his captivity. We are sucked into the time portal as well because we read about Dream's release from captivity five books ago. It's all quite strange, but as I said, the stories get progressively more mind-boggling as the collection continues.

Ah, "Orpheus." What to say about this sad tale? The Endless are inserted in an interesting way. Destruction helps Orpheus seek Death, but Dream is really a horrible father. Death is adorable as ever. It's nice to see Calliope again, but unfortunate to find out that she's not sure she ever really loved Dream. Dream's lovelife is really his own fault, but it's still fairly pathetic. The way he treats his son is unforgivable though. I am not extremely well steeped in Greek myth, but I never really thought of Orpheus as regretting his immortality as much as he does in this story. Of course, he is reduced to a head, so that might have something to do with it. But I really thought he went on trips with Hercules and Jason and stuff even after he lost Euridyce. Oh well.

"The Parliament of Rooks" was one of my favorite stories. Believe it or not, I like Cain and Abel as characters. I also really liked Eve! She is so...over it all. I think it's funny and realistic. She tells Cain, "I've stopped telling stories," and "I'm NOT your mother, Cain" in a way that makes it seem like she's bitter, but handling it. The story is really about Daniel's trip to "The Dreaming," which I think foreshadows a greater role he will have to play. He ends up with Matthew, the talking raven, Eve, Cain, and Abel all telling stories. Abel's story is absolutely adorable! The drawings are so, so cute! Eve's story is pragmatic and actually I think has a basis in other mythology. I've definitely heard of Lilith before.The whole storytelling is framed by some interesting bird talk. I really enjoyed it.

The story "Ramadan" was really interesting until the political protest became too transparent. Dream is all god-like again, and the Caliph is really quite rude to him, but the ending on the streets of Bagdhad was a little too much. I guess I would not have got the point on my own, but I'm really not sure I would be happy to replace Bagdhad the way it is now with what it was in the beginning of the story. It was just too allegorical. Not enough was left up to the imagination.

Okay, so now I have finally finished my thoughts on book 6, finished book 7, and I think I'm going to take a break soon. I started a blog on The Indigo King, and I would hate to see February come along with January's reading unfinished, but we'll see. There are other reasons for giving Sandman a break right now, but I'll talk about those in the next blog.

The Sandman: A Game of You (5)

I wrote myself a note last night to remind myself that the introduction to A Game of You really irritated me. I wish I had not. Though Samuel R. Delany did initially irritate me because he writes in his introduction to move on and finish the story before reading his thoughts (why on earth don't you put it at the end then!), when I did get back to his thoughts this morning, I found them to be really on point and fabulously written. Once again I find a short but extremely poignant bit of fantasy criticism at the beginning of a graphic novel! Delany writes, "the key to this particular fantasy world is precisely that it is a fantasy world where the natural forces, stated and unstated, whether of myth or of chance, enforce the dominant ideology." It seems like he is truly disparaging Gaiman's work until he says, "And it remains just a nasty fantasy unless, in our reading of it, we can find some irony, something that subverts it, something that resists that fantasy," and this is precisely what we find. Irony is definitely the dominant characteristic of A Game of You.

I was most struck by the idea that Barbie (yes, Barbie formerly married to Ken--yuck!) is our protagonist. I am one of those short, plump, annoying moms who really doesn't want her daughters to play with Barbie because she represents unnatural and unhealthy standards for beauty. They say that if she were alive, she would be seven feet tall with a whopping thirty-eight inch bust (haha---smaller than mine), but it towers over an eighteen inch waist (definitely smaller than mine). A "perfectly proportioned female" would have ten inches difference between bust, waist, and hips (34, 24, 34) supposedly. Barbie, on the other hand, would not be able to stand or walk; she'd fall over at the waist, weighed down not by her expansive intellect, but her crazy long blond hair. Obviously, she is an ideal role model for young children. But, for Gaiman, Barbie is actually only consistent with her childhood toy theme on the surface. The first panel in which she appears shows her half naked in bed, but we learn that she has an interesting group of friends. She is the sweet Barbie the doll makers want her to be, but she is also best friends with a transsexual, strangely insecure about her face (she's always drawing on it), and she is obviously repressed in many ways.

It's hard for me to write a sentence summary of what this story was really about because I'm not sure exactly what happened. Barbie's dreamworld was in trouble from the Cuckoo, but this trouble had something to do with Barbie and Rose Walker (see A Doll's House). I was initially frustrated that Barbie was the princess of her realm (don't we get enough of Barbie's awesomeness in the pink aisle of Toys R Us?) but it wore off as the subtle hints showed how powerless and ridiculous she was in that function. Her realm is icy cold, and she has nothing on but a ball gown. She is also at the mercy of her friends/subjects because she has no idea where she is going. After losing, or being betrayed by, all her friends, she is eventually taken to the Cuckoo who turns out to be.........I don't know. I still don't know and I finished the book. There were some really cool parts of this confrontation though. As Barbie approaches the Cuckoo's Citadel, she realizes that it's her old house in Florida. I have to admit that I was really afraid to find out who the Cuckoo was at this point; I have this idea for a book of my own. But I need not have worried, the Lacanian/Freudian psychoanalysis was really quite straight forward. At least in appearance alone, the Cuckoo was Barbie's younger self. I could go on about her public self versus her private self, but I am more interested in the type of analysis Delany did in his introduction than the individual psychoses of a character based off of a plastic goddess. There was some part of her that she repressed and that part took over her dreamworld. But, that's not all there is to it. The Cuckoo was also something outside of Barbie, something like an actual cuckoo...a possessing force or something. When Dream shows up at the end, he speaks of her "kind," but no one ever really says what her "kind" was. The same is true for Thessaly, who is apparently some sort of witch but we never find out which coven or clan she belonged to or anything.

I could spend a great deal of time talking about Wanda, Hazel, Foxglove, and Thessaly too, but I really wanted to mention how interesting Dream's reaction to the whole ordeal is at the end. I think there is something very attractive about Dream. He acts like a god. I know that sounds weird because we really don't have many references for what a god acts like except what we get from mythology and religion and he really doesn't act like any of those gods. He has his own sense of morality and it's so logical that it is hard to resist. Barbie wants him to punish the Cuckoo, but he seems to feel sorry for her. Dream offers her one "boon," but she obviously has to get herself and her friends home, so she can't recreate her dreamworld or anything. I need to think more about how to explain this, but Dream is just so calm and detached. I don't understand why what the Cuckoo has done is not evil, but what Thessaly, Hazel, and Foxglove have done is evil, and yet, I feel like if I asked Dream, he could explain it. Don't get me wrong, this isn't some religious fantasy. I don't feel safe because the world is in Dream's hands or anything. I just think he's cool and godlike. I like Death for a lot of the same reasons, but Death is really nice. I always look forward to her showing up because she's sweet to the other characters. You never really know if Dream is going to be nice or not. He wasn't very sympathetic to Barbie, but he doesn't lose his temper, and he's not mean really. I'm not doing a good job of this. The point is I think Dream is kinda attractive as an Endless...thingy. :)

Best part of this book was the sheer femininity of the whole thing. I really enjoyed one of the last scenes where Barbie tells Wanda what it was like to go into a comic book store. I've only ever been into a comic book store once, and the people there were super nice! But, I thought it was cute that the guys weren't nice to Barbie at all. They made fun of her breasts, and she said they must have taken "unhelpfulness lessons." It makes me wonder if I just got lucky. I would have been more nervous the first time, but I had my kids with me. Luckily though, if I need to go into a comic book store, I can take someone with me to show me the ropes. The really funny part was when Barbie told Wanda she wished she was there because Wanda would have said something to the guys. I have mixed feelings about this. It seems like it would be nice to have someone stick up for you when guys pick on you, but on the other hand, is it really worth it? What was hurt? Her pride. Besides, the guys in the comic book store probably wanted her. Immature way of showing though.

For a guy, Gaiman really does capture women pretty well. Barbie is fairly complex, as are Hazel and Foxglove. Thessaly is cool (weird and scary, but cool), but I don't think she's really human, so I don't think she counts. Gaiman seems like he would be a really cool person to talk to. Perhaps.

The Sandman: Season of Mists (4)

Okay, I am royally pissed now because I wrote a whole blog for this book, and I thought it was quite cute if not really good, and now it is lost! So, I am going to try to remember what I wrote and recreate it, but who knows how that will go. It will probably sound forced and annoying. Blah.

I really see the value of writing these blogs right after I finish the books because I finished Season of Mists last night, and already it is getting confused in my head with A Game of You, which I started today. And that’s no good because Season of Mists was my favorite of The Sandman series so far, although I really liked the first book as well.

So yeah...I finished Season of Mists last night. Let’s start with the introduction this time just for variety’s sake and because…well, it’s at the beginning. When I sat down to read the book, my boyfriend told me that Harlan Ellison was a jerk, and on the second page I knew he was right. I don’t admit this often, so something must have triggered it. Ellison’s comments, like “if you’re one of the few surviving atavists who still read for the pure pleasure of intellectual invigoration,” were really condescending. As I am one of those “atavists,” I can only imagine how an Average Joe would feel when he picks up this book for pleasure and finds the introduction chocked with smatterings of Latin and French. Who needs it? Not me. And furthermore, the introduction seemed to do little besides stroke both Ellison’s and Gaiman’s egos. I failed to see a message besides the fact that Ellison thinks Gaiman is as brilliant, or almost as brilliant, as he finds himself.

Enough though, because I really liked this book, and I really don’t want to get stuck being snarky about the introduction. The overarching storyline (I believe it’s called an arc, for whatever reason) is that Dream has to return to Hell after a family meeting because his siblings feel he was unjust to a former lover, Nada (which he WAS). Nada means “nothing” in Spanish, and it means “dew” in Arabic, but this is totally useless and unrelated knowledge that only makes me more like Ellison. Anyway…apparently, Dream pissed off Lucifer in book one (I don’t remember him being pissed off and I haven’t gone back to check), and Lucifer has a very original way of getting revenge. He abdicates. He kicks everybody out of Hell and gives Dream the key. So the story really ends up being about the groups of beings that travel to “The Dreaming” to obtain the key to Hell from Dream.

The factions are: Thor, Odin, and Loki; Anubis, Bast, and Bes; Susano-O-No-Mikoto; Azazel, the Merkin, and Choronzon; Lord Kilderkin (the manifestation of order); Shivering Jemmy of the Shallow Brigade (a princess of Chaos); and Remiel and Duma (angels). Remiel and Duma are just there to observe (haha). Hopefully at least some of these names are familiar as all of the characters are famous mythological deities/creatures from around the world. The borrowed characters aren’t really a problem though, possibly this is because of the medium (I’ve already come to expect that some of the characters will be visitors from other stories). But mostly, I think it’s because like most good artists, Gaiman creates his own mythology as he goes along. This particular story is the mythology of how the war between Heaven and Hell ends. I won’t tell you how it ends, but I will say that I was not happy about who obtained the keys to Hell. Gaiman may be a religious man after all, despite the “r” rated nature of his books.

To return to the beginning (this is becoming an issue for me I fear—this circular writing thing), the family meeting affords the opportunity to meet all the Endless, except Destruction, who is on holiday. I am looking forward to getting to know Delirium better, but she’ll be hard pressed to replace Death or Dream as my favorite character. Death is great! I really hope Gaiman is divinely inspired in this mythology so that when I die an adorable brunette shows up to take me on.

Oh, and did I mention this was my favorite so far? Thank goodness I have seven more to read! :)

The Sandman: Dream Country (3)

I caught a lot of crap this weekend reading my graphic novel around a bunch of veteran comic book readers. Apparently, I am not to read the introductions, and it is absolutely ludicrous that I would read the published script at the end of Volume 3. It was an interesting reading environment; I am a very vocal reader, and when something is funny, I laugh out loud. When something is strange, I read it aloud to make sure it makes sense to me. The guys were quite amused I'm sure. In any case, I digress.

Dream Country was unlike the previous two Sandman books because it was really a collection of short stories in which Dream makes an appearance rather than chapters in a story about Dream. The first story, "Calliope" was about a muse that had been captured by one famous author and given to another in order to inspire further best sellers. I enjoyed this story because I aspire to write, and I can certainly sympathize with the frustration the authors feel when they have no ideas. However, the really sad part of the story is the complete lack of respect both authors have for the muse. The one who captured her refers to her as a cow, and the one who obtains possession during the story rapes her and doesn't even feel guilty about it. Dream rescues her by cursing the latter author with a plethora of ideas, which he finds so all encompassing that he has to write them on the walls with his own blood in order to get them out.

Incidentally, this is also the story for which the script is provided in the back of the book. It was really interesting to see how the artist, Kelley Jones, interpreted Gaiman's words. Gaiman's comments were really amusing too. At some point, he randomly apologized for being too tired to finish a certain number of pages in a night. He also makes several wry comments mid explanations. The script was quite long: several pages longer than the actual story. My boyfriend made the comment that perhaps the bloated scripts were one reason The Sandman series has a new artist for every book. I think not, but whatever.

The second story features felines as the main characters, and it left me a little cold. I wanted the cats to change the world with their dream, as the afflicted cat promised their concurrent dreaming would. However, I guess I see the validity in the idea that cats cannot agree on anything and are therefore incapable of community action. Still, I think from the fantasy aspect, the story would be more subversive if the cats actually did manage to change the world. A theme that seems to be running through the books is that though things never happened, they can still be true. And in this case, our imaginations simply have to make the alternate universe true for the cats.

The third story is the one about Shakespeare that seems to have attracted a great deal of critical attention. The writing was actually mostly Shakespeare's, and the twist to the story was that the actual characters were the audience. Once again, Gaiman seems to be playing with the idea of truth. The truth of the actual characters validates the truth of Shakespeare's version of human nature. It was interesting. I like the completely fictional idea that Shakespeare's son Hamnet hangs out with him for a while though. It increases my respect for Shakespeare as a man, even though I know it is completely untrue.

The fourth story featured a character that I knew nothing about, and I really didn't find it that interesting, except that Death showed back up, and I like her. Rainie, or Element Girl (?), longs for death because she can no longer function in society. She goes out to lunch with a friend and loses her fake face she has put on for the occasion. Death leads her in the right direction for suicide, and it was a little touching maybe. But mostly, I was just interested in what her body was made of. I am sure that there is a running theme through traditional comics about the inconveniences and difficulties of being superhuman, but this story really didn't wrench my heart the way it could have.

So, back to introductions (I'm tacking this on at the end--can you tell?) I did not enjoy the introduction to The Sandman: Dream Country as much as I enjoyed the previous intro (The Doll's House), but Steve Erickson did provide a nice anecdote about a dream he had about his father shortly after his death. I liked the previous intro because it was all about fantasy, and that is really my thing. And, so far, Dream Country is my least favorite of The Sandman series because I like Dream, and I missed him. Thank goodness I have another seven to read.

The Sandman: The Doll's House (2)

I finished the second book in The Sandman series this morning, and it was easily as weird as the first only with a less well-defined plot. I still haven't met Delirium, and supposedly she is one of the major reasons I'm reading the series...because she is somehow like Luna Lovegood (whom I have decided is half my personality = half Luna half Hermione). I did meet Desire though and that was interesting. I guess I need to back up. Overall, the series is apparently about the Endless, those who are not gods because they cannot die. And their names all start with D: Death, Dream, Desire, Delirium, Destiny...I don't know many of them yet. The series focuses on Dream, but the other characters, like the Greek gods of myth, interfere a lot.

In this book, Rose and Miranda Walker are reunited with their grandmother/mother, Unity Kincaid. Unity is a character from the first book who was infected with the Sleepy Sickness that went around while Dream was incarcerated by the cult. While she was asleep, someone or something raped her, and the child (Miranda) was put up for adoption and taken to the states. This story really begins when Unity summons Miranda and Rose to England to tell them the truth. For whatever reason, Rose and Miranda decide that they need to find Miranda's son, Jed. Jed seems to have become the plaything for a lot of horrific dreams and humans alike. His mind has been blocked off by Brute and Glob in order to recreate the dreamworld that was lost during Dream's imprisonment. His foster parents lock him in the basement so that they can collect the foster money for taking care of him. Then he is picked up when he tries to run away by Corinthian, an escaped nightmare turned serial killer.

Proctected by Fiddler's Green (who ends up being a place personified), his sister Rose rescues him and returns him to her new home where she is staying awaiting more information from her mother and her dying grandmother. He is lost in a world of dreams. But the big plot line is that supposedly Desire and his/her sibling have conspired to make Rose the new dream vortex, which means that she has to be destroyed by Dream himself. When Rose eventually does fall asleep the dreams of all the occupants of her buidling fold together to become one. Dream picks her up and takes her to the dreamworld where she is to be killed, but she is rescued by an unexpected person.

Yes, weird. The weirdest part by far was the convention of serial killers that Corinthian attends with Jed in his trunk. BUT it was balanced out by a nicer diversion about a man who is granted immortality so that Dream can meet with him every one hundred years in a tavern. Dream is still my favorite character, and I expect it is supposed to be that way. Death was very cool, but she only showed for a moment in this book. And like I've said, I haven't met many more of the Endless. I'll have to pick up the rest of the series soon, but I also have one of those pesky mid-year evaluations tomorrow that I need to prepare for, and the quarter ends in just two weeks. Bummer! Less reading. :(

The Sandman: Preludes & Nocturnes (1)

This is my first graphic novel. I am reading it as part of a book exchange with my boyfriend. I am very nervous about understanding everything since I am not used to all the pictures. Just looking through it has me a little overwhelmed, but I am going to jump in and try today.

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It's been a while since I finished a book in a day (since DH, I think), and I don't know that I've ever done it in a workday. BUT, the graphic novel thing turned out to be a little easier than I anticipated. So, I read the first book in The Sandman series today, and my first thought is that I am definitely putting an extra label in for this one: horror!

The basic premise of the story is that the Sandman, Dream, has been imprisoned for almost a century before he is accidentally released to seek revenge. The revenge is quick though (over on page 52), and the real horror doesn't really come into play until Dream decides he needs to reclaim his lost objects of power: a pouch of sand, his mask, and a ruby.

In order to reclaim his pouch, he needs to venture into the realm of traditional superheroes. This left me cold because I'm really unfamiliar with the traditional DC stuff. However the death of Constantine's beau Rachel was moving and disturbing despite the fact that I have no idea who either character is outside the story. The drawings are pretty incredible though. I was fairly disgusted by the half dead woman living off of dreams. I certainly understand the image of the addict; hits a little too close to home perhaps.

Dream ventures into Hell to reclaim his mask from a demon in the service of Beelzebub. I enjoyed this chapter(?) because it smacked of Dante and other classic works I've read. In fact, the battle between Dream and Choronzon was quite a bit like T.H. White's battle between Merlin and Madam Mim. The object of the game is to change yourself into a creature that can defeat the opponent's creature, but in this case they just drew the creatures. The battle quickly turns cosmic though, and Dream eventually turns himself into hope and defeats Choronzon's absence of being/absolute destruction.

Dr. Dee or Dr. Destiny's appearance at the end of the book was one of the more disturbing things I've ever read. I really don't know whether or not this character is a DC frequent or not, but he was extremely psychotic. His character is one that changes from pitiable to repulsive so quickly my head spins. In any case, he has obtained Dream's ruby and is ready to use it for world domination, but he enjoys the horrific effects so much that he decides to simply wallow in the destruction rather than rule the world. The chapter (?) "24 Hours" was such that my stomach churned thorughout the reading. It made me glad that I am not truly crazy. Perhaps this is a function of true villians: to draw the lines between eccentricity and genuine madness. Dream's true nobility shows when he gains the upper hand and decides to return Dr. Dee to the asylum rather than kill him slowly as I would have.

Overall, the plot was simple to follow and I enjoyed reading it, if one can enjoy things that make you feel genuinely ill. I'm not sure I'll put it in the classroom library, but I would recommend it to others interested in trying out a graphic novel for a change of pace.

The Crystal Cave

Having finished The Crystal Cave last night, I woke up upset this morning. There is something about the Arthur/Merlin story that always depresses me. Today I woke up angry at Uther. Although the story contains all the elements needed for it to be my favorite kind of reading (history, magic, strong women, heroic men), the order throws me off. For Arthur enthusiasts, there is no such thing as a happy ending.

Mary Stewart's The Crystal Cave is a fictionalized account of young Merlin's life based on Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain. Stewart admits that Geoffrey's reputation is "mud" with real historians, but explains that "as a story it is tremendous stuff" (523). Though the History and many of the other accounts of Arthur were written in the twelfth century, Merlin and Arther were thought to have possibly existed in the fifth century AD. In many ways, this is a great time to write about because so little is known of its actual history. My mother, who recommended this book to me, mentioned that she was fascinated by all the magic in the book, but it is not magic but religious cult and ritual that drives the fantasy aspect of this book.

In this incarnation, Merlin is the "bastard" grandson of the King of Wales. His mother Niniane refuses to disclose the name of his father, and for this reason, he is always treated poorly around the castle. Rumours spread that he is the son of the "Prince of Darkness," and Merlin does not dispute them. Merlin is eventually given a tutor, and he learns secretly from Galapas, a local magician. The political machinations that drive the plot are detailed and feel realistic, as though Stewart had read quite a bit about the period. The main players, the Saxons, the Welsh, and the Britons are fighting over control of the whole of England, Wales, and Ireland. When Merlin's uncle returns home, he immediately considers Merlin a threat. When Merlin's grandfather dies and Merlin's own slave is punished for it, he flees the country.

In Cornwall, Merlin meets up with his father Ambrosius, a man destined to unite England and leave it to his brother, Uther. Merlin's time living and learning from Ambrosius is the happiest period in the book. It is widely acknowledged that Merlin has the power of prophecy, and this is the only magic worked throughout. When the time comes for Ambrosius to attack Greater Brittan, Merlin goes before him and is captured by the old High King Vortigern. In a deft display self-preservation, Merlin expands his reputation and becomes known as Vortigern's prophet. Ambrosius does take England and rules well but only for a short time. Merlin's father is only in the picture for a short time.

The relationship with Uther is much more strained. Perhaps Merlin's royal blood destines him to his life as a feared outcast, but those circumstances does not make it any more comfortable for me. In any case, by the end of the story, Merlin has agreed to help Uther obtain Ygraine, another man's wife. He lies with her, and she conceives, but the chaos that ensues causes Uther to resent the fulfillment of his wishes. He severs ties with Merlin and exclaims that he will not claim the son. Even though I knew what was coming as soon as a love-sick Uther begged Merlin for his help, I was not prepared for the humiliation and anger I felt on Merlin's behalf. Stewart makes Merlin very real, despite his power. I felt for him deeply at the end of the book.

The more I think about it, the more I realize the two things that bother me most about this story. First of all, Merlin's gift as a prophet seems to truly curb self determination. There is no free will once Merlin has spoken. Things may come about in an unusual or surprising fashion, but they will come about nonetheless. There is something frustrating and emasculating about this theory of prophecy. The second thing that really bothers me about Uther's and Arthur's stories is that it always seems to be women that bring them down. They become types to Adam's Anti type. It's very frustrating to read over and over again as a woman.

On a more structural note, this story is also told in the first person. Merlin is our narrator. He is an interesting narrator for the story because, at least at this point, he is a major player. It will be interesting to see (if I decide to continue the series) how his perspective colors the fall of Uther and the rise of Arthur. Already, Stewart has given him some interesting lines. Pondering Ygraine, he states, "I shall never cease to wonder at women. Even with power, it is not possible to read their minds. Duchess and slut alike, they need not even study to deceive. I suppose it is the same with slaves, who live with fear, and with those animals who disguise themselves by instinct to save their lives" (478). These are very intriguing lines as written by a woman. I wonder if they were closely related to something else she had read about Merlin; she does make him celibate as have many others, for example, or if these lines are protestations to the whole theory behind the story. Steward does an excellent job of staying out of the story herself, so my efforts to decode her ideology will require a great deal of analysis. I just hope the benefits of the challenge outweigh the depression.

The Search for the Red Dragon

The second in the series featuring J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis as fictional characters picked up much more quickly than the first. Despite the fact that the premise remains the same, I enjoyed the second book more than the first. Perhaps this is because I am less familiar with the literary premises for the work.

The Search for the Red Dragon weaves Dante's Inferno and James Barrie's Peter Pan together in a tale about using abducted children to form an army. I will say that the sheer amount of time travel at the end of the novel was slightly disconcerting. I looked up from the book and said aloud, "What? I just missed something big." Still the return of the Winter King's shadow and the possibility of his continued existence makes me curious about the next book. Owen drops hints in his end notes that we may know the cartographer of lost places, but I still have no idea who he is. I have a feeling that these books are going to be more fun with each reread, especially if I have the opportunity to read more classics between readings.

On the femininity front, Aven becomes a mother but not a wife. This second book also introduces a second female lead Laura Glue. Laura Glue is a "Lost Boy" and the granddaughter of Peter Pan. Her character is a little annoying. I can't tell if she is meant to be annoying or if she is just poorly written. I am really pulling for a more well rounded female before the series ends.

Here, There Be Dragons

This series was recommended to me by a good friend and colleague. I started reading it on December 22nd because I had left Breaking Dawn in the car. It started out well but immediately started to feel like the fantasy novel version of Copycat.

The premise for the series is a book that contains maps of all the imaginary lands ever written, depicted, etc. The series is called The Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica. I liked the "wendigo" in the first chapter, and I was intrigued by the death of the professor that begins the series. However, the book does go through a 'let's show off how many fantasy novels we've read' stage, and it seemed unoriginal at times.

My second issue with the book was its utter maleness. People complain about Tolkien's treatment of women all the time and I love Tolkien, but this was rather silly. The one female character, while strong, was just so underdone. Aven is the captain of the Indigo Dragon, and she is fiesty, but she is also one dimensional until at least the second book. Even then her added characterization feels hollow like Owen tacks on feminine qualities that he pulled out of a fifties self-help book. But, on to more pleasant things.

The ending of the book really picks up, and by the time John, Jack, Charles, and Bert manage to defeat if not destroy the Winter King, I was really engrossed in the story. I liked the bit about the "ring of power," and I loved the fact that John is really J.R.R. Tolkien and Jack is C.S. Lewis. Charles is somebody too, but I am not well read enough to know him that well. Jack's character almost betrays the group to the Winter King just like Edmund betrays his brother and sisters to the White Witch in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. The smattering of literary history and philosophy in the book that becomes so much more important by the time we figure out the true identities of the caretakers makes this book one I will definitely reread. I am really looking forward to rereading to see more of how John's character relates to Tolkien's works.

Breaking Dawn

The conclusion really shocked me.

I'm not sure if there is a limit on how "happy" an ending can be before it becomes sickening, but this book pushes the limits. My mentor mentioned that the ending smacked of deus ex machina, and I mistakenly believed that Edward was going to become human somehow. I had these vague notions running through my head while reading about the Volturi having found an antidote to vampire venom and releasing Edward from his eternal sleepless bondage. However, it turns out that Bella does become a vampire. She has a half-human child, which you would think would make her grow up some but does not. In fact, the thing about Bella is that she is a dynamic character in the eyes of other characters, but she is really quite static in her own head. And, since the story is told from her point of view, she is really quite static for the reader. I grew to like her though, and I maintain that she has an 'everywoman' quality that sets her apart from other heroines of fantasy novels at least. This characterization may be more common in the Romance genre.

What a climax though! Meyer builds the suspense extremely well in this book, and the ending was like something right out of X-Men. All the gifted vampires standing around ready to take on the vampire establishment reminded me of a scene right out of a superhero action flick. I was impressed with the eventual blending of genres. The series really was one of a kind. Over all, I still can't see how I could ever work it into my studies, but I would recommend it to other women. It's an interesting read.

Eclipse

I am fascinated by Ms. Meyer's titles. This one was particularly apt. I like the way she uses the title to combine the lunar (werewolf aspect) and the (solar - Jacob's affect on Bella aspect). However, the real story here is that Jacob just can't compete with the Greek god Edward: he is eclipsed.

The third book of a four book series should be extremely climatic, and this one was not really. As I am writing, I am having a hard time remembering what the major suspense is in the story, and the book itself is upstairs on the shelf of my captain's bed. Oh yes, newborns. Meyer does do a good job of tying plotlines together (not nearly as good at it as Rowling, but certainly a satisfactory job). The hunter James's mate Victoria makes a reappearance that conveniently gives Meyer the opportunity to discuss the history of vampire warfare. Newborn vampires are extra-strong and easily distractable, making them seriously dangerous. Victoria's creation of a small army of newborns to destroy Bella provides the major action for this book.

Still, the main plotline revolves around Bella's attempts to keep both Edward and Jacob in her life without crushing either of them. She fails, of course, and ends up crushing both men in her own way. Her remorse is slightly satisfying, but overall, I really wish Bella would grow up a little.

As I write, I am starting to realize how cynical and negative I sound. I must reiterate at this point that I had a very hard time putting these books down. For sheer entertainment value, they are quite remarkable. I enjoyed them immensely.

New Moon

I had heard that this was the worst book in the series, but I actually really enjoyed it.

I think a lot of readers are understandably put off by Bella's depression. Pages eighty-five through ninety-two are simply months passing without note because Bella is completely blanked. She can't feel or think; she simply exists. I found this to be rather brilliant, perhaps because I can unfortunately understand it completely. On the other hand, the deep depression is an indication of Bella's youth, which undermines the validity of her decision to return to Edward.

I have also heard others say this was their favorite book because of Jacob. Jacob is a pretty cool character, but he does not carry the book. The raw honesty of Bella's condition is what really carries this book. Meyer, a mother and a wife, has obviously kept in touch with her teenage self quite well. I remember feeling like my life revolved around social situations, like there was nothing inside me that didn't relate to others. People are always complaining of the egocentricity of youth, but in many ways, it is egocentricity that saves us from youth. It is the understanding that we are with or without others that makes us grow up. Bella never achieves this, and I feel for her because she is rescued rather than fighting her way out. Still, her evolving relationship with Jacob and her desire for danger are entertaining.

The climax of this book is not as suspenseful or entertaining as the first. Bella leaves Forks to save Edward from his own suicidal tendencies in Italy. Once again it is their relationship's lack of realistic foundation that makes the whole thing seem hollow. On the other hand, I was grateful Edward reappeared because Jacob deserved better than Bella's half-hearted admiration. Also, Charlie is a great character. He is well written and realistic, more so than Bella, Edward, or Jacob.

I really enjoyed the philosophical argument between Edward and Carlisle about whether or not vampires have an afterlife or even a soul. This was the one interesting part about the climax. Edward mistakenly believes he is already dead when Bella rushes into his arms. This was both amusing and thought provoking, but it was not really enough to pull off a 563 page novel.

Twilight

Yes, me too. I have been taken in by Twilight. My friend John recently posted the following message on my facebook:

"haha...you're probably the only PhD applicant in the world to spend her Christmas break reading _Twilight_ books :)"

I suppose that the smiley was meant to placate my easily provoked wrath, but I find his statement especially amusing because I was at a Christmas party on the 26th and found not one but two other PhD students reading the book. It's the new 'girly' phenomenon. My Twilight journey started around midnight on December 12th (13th if you count midnight as the start of a new day). I picked up the book at a Barnes and Noble stop for the classroom library. A few of my female students had been caught reading it during their grammar lessons, so I thought it would be a good choice for Focused Silent Reading. I started reading because I was bored and couldn't sleep. I spent most of the weekend reading and consequently moved on quite quickly. I bought the rest of the series at Books-A-Million on Wednesday the 17th, and I finished the fourth on the 29th.

The series has some notable features. I continually refer to the books as 'vampire romance,' rather than fantasy, but I can argue for their placement in the fantasy genre. Unlike the other popular fantasy novels currently being read, the series is written in the first person. The protagonist Bella is the narrator. The first book probably fits most closely into Tzvetan Todorov's definition of "the fantastic." Bella is kept in suspense for a great majority of the novel as to whether or not the supernatural can really exist. This is only possible with a first person narrator, and I am impressed that it has regained its popularity as a literary technique in this genre. Bella's transition from Phoenix, AR to Forks, WA was extremely well written, almost literary in its detail. That alone is what kept me reading for the first hundred pages. After her arrival in Forks, the book takes on a distinctly Romance genre feel. I rarely read Romance, but Bella's "everywoman" qualities were enough to pull me through.

My major problem with the book, and really the series, is that Bella loves Edward because he is classically beautiful and can read minds and Edward loves Bella because he cannot read her mind and she smells good. This does not a lasting relationship make, and throughout, the depth of their love seemed unrealistic to me. However, the suspense at the end of the novel made it worth the read. Meyer's changes to classic vampire mythology were innovative on the whole. I liked the idea that the "good" vampires hunted animals, but as my ever sarcastic boyfriend pointed out, the killing of large predatory animals on the North American continent is really quite criminal. The first book was definitely not my favorite in the series, but it was an entertaining read.