Watchmen

Title: Watchmen
Writer: Alan Moore
Artist: Dave Gibbons
Published: 1986 and 1987 in 12 issues by DC Comics
Genre: Superheroes!
Pages: 12 x ~30 pages


This is superhero comics at their best.

If you haven't heard of Watchmen lately, you've probably been living under a rock. Called a "landmark", "peerless", "remarkable", "brilliant", "groundbreaking", "masterwork" and "greatest piece of popular fiction ever produced" (and that's just the back cover of the compilation), this bible to the comic -or maybe graphic novel is a better term here- loving people is coming out as a blockbusting movie next week.

Watchmen has been praised by better writers over the years, so I'll just borrow a few words from the back cover again: "This is the book that changed an industry and challenged a medium. If you've never read a graphic novel, start with WATCHMEN. And even if you have, it's time to read it again."

I decided to read Watchmen before the opening night. Having already read it in my early twenties, I could remember most of the major twists. Knowing how it's going to end didn't make reading any easier. Despite running around in somewhat silly costumes, the reader can still relate to (most of) the cast. They're just people who are living their lives and trying to make the best of them. I can only marvel at Moore's writing, his characters and the inevitable conclusion, hinted at but not made clear until the heroes themselves figure it out.

Already a phenomenon, the movie will no doubt get more people to read the comic itself. It's a horrifying but strangely optimistic fantasy story which could well be real, and so deep that the reader better bring a life vest. Layered like a cake -or maybe onion- it's one of those books you can read again and again. Alan Moore tells the best bedtime stories.

"Somebody has to do it, don't you see? Somebody has to save the world..."

The Palace of Varieties

Title: The Palace of Varieties
Author: James Lear
Published: 2008 by Cleis Press Inc.
Genre: Gay fiction
Pages: 280


Another by James Lear (and something tells me I'm going to be purchasing more of his books if I get my grabby little hands on them), The Palace of Varieties tells the story of Paul Lemoyne, who moves into London on his 18th birthday in 1934. Paul shares with us a few years of his young life, and many of the arses and cocks he meets along the way.

After reading the description for this book I was reminded of Sarah Waters' Tipping the Velvet, which tells a similar story (only with Victorian women, and a whole lot less sex (which I want to re-read now...)), but Lear -or Paul- certainly spends far more time describing all the sex, more than the feelings of the cast. Money is easily had when one is willing to stretch a little (pun intended) and more easily lost.

Now, that is in no way to imply that I did not enjoy the book. Far from it! Paul's story was a fun, sexy read, and very educational even when there was fairly little mention of the period it portrayed. The ending seemed a little abrupt, but was also left open for a possible sequel.

“I grabbed Lee’s cock, which was half hard, and tugged him a few times until he could not help but get an erection. ‘Now I want you to fuck me,’ I said, my voice as merciless as Boleslavsky’s. That party, by the way, had sat down on the bench and was happily wanking while he watched the cruel drama unfold.

“’Yes, sir.’”

What I learned from this book? For instance, don't use oil paints as lubrication. Not so slippery, and certainly messy.

Luumukanaa

Nimi: Luumukanaa
Tekijä: Marjane Satrapi
Alkuperäisteos: Poulet aux prunes
Julkaistu: 2008, LIKE
Genre: Elämänkertaa


Naser Ali on päättänyt kuolla. Hän menetti elämänsä rakkauden nuorena, ja nyt on poissa myös tätä kaipausta huojentanut soitin ja sen mukana soittamisen ilo.

Marjane Satrapi kertoo tällä kertaa äitinsä sedän tarinaa viikon ajalta ennen tämän kuolemaa. Häneltä on aiemmin suomennettu omaelämänkerrallinen Persepolis (josta on tehty piirretty elokuvakin, pitäisi katsoa!), ja Luumukanaa on yhtä suorasanainen ja peittelemätön. Tarina kulkee Naser Alin kuolinviikon lisäksi menneessä, tulevaisuudessa ja kuvitelmissa, ja Satrapin mustavalkoinen, pelkistetty mutta selvästi omalaatuinen kädenjälki kuvaa tragikoomisesti (hieno sana, tragikoominen) tavallisten iranilaisten elämää, joka helposti jää historiallisesti tärkeämpien tapahtumien jalkoihin.

"Koska yksikään tar ei voinut tuottaa hänelle enää soittamisen iloa, Naser Ali Khan päätti kuolla. Hän kävi makaamaan vuoteeseensa... viikkoa myöhemmin, marraskuun 22. päivänä 1958, hänet haudattiin äitinsä viereen Shemiranissa sijaitsevalle Zahir ad-daulan hautausmaalle. Kaikki, jotka olivat tunteneet hänet, tulivat saattamaan hänet matkaan."

My bookshelf

Let me show you it.


I actually have a three-part bookshelf thing some seven feet wide, which I inherited from my granny, a lover of books, but currently that's being used by other people (except for three shelves full of my books) and this is all I have to shove my preciouses into.

On top are most of my action figures, then it's comic shelf #1. There are more comics behind those visible. Then it's paperback shelf, with another row of paperbacks behind these. And last, comic shelf #2. Again, more comics behind the visible ones. On the right, half visible, a pile of my brother's comics. And on the left it's two piles of mangas and paperbacks that just wouldn't fit. The paperbacks in the front pile are my Read next -pile...