Reclaiming the Dead, by James Patrick Brotherton

You could say that this book is an adventure story, following the tried and true ‘unsuspecting, ordinary person gets invited to be an adventurer, goes for it, becomes a badass’ plot. You could say that this is a book about vampires and vampire hunters. But really, this is an awakening story, one about an ordinary man who is shaken out of his stagnant life into motion and, ultimately, to a kind of enlightenment. This is not only a valuable theme, it’s a theme particularly relevant to our time: when technology has placed everything just a click away, what could possibly be more important than relearning to appreciate the “feast” that is life? It just so happens that the vehicle that brings the protagonist, Merton Daniels, to his enlightenment is the existence of vampires.

My favorite part about this book is the dark, deadpan humor that exists throughout it. Merton and his best-friend-turned-sidekick, Coaler, are in sharp contrast to each other, and their interactions create a dynamic that brings in the sort of absurd situations everyday life has to offer. Because of this, the world of Reclaiming the Dead is convincing – maybe uncomfortably so. The humor which arises because of this absurdity also prompted me to begin thinking of it in terms of film – if Reclaiming the Dead ever hit the silver screen it could be Shawn of the Dead’s wittier, indie cousin.

Another intriguing part of this novel is how it handles the myth of the vampire. While I can’t think of a concrete example of this theory being put forth in vampire literature or film, the concept of Judas Iscariot being the first vampire is a familiar notion. However, wedding this concept to, in some instances, the blood-sack baseness of folkloric vampires, the powers of Dracula, and the ability to retain fragments of his human consciousness create a very new spin. Perhaps because the story is primarily about enlightenment and awakening to the world, this book takes the myth of the vampire and makes it less about monsters and more about philosophy, about the nature of life and the universe.

In short, this little book is more than it seems, and it’s worth a read. Go and send James Brotherton some love at his website, jamesbrotherton.com. Reclaiming the Dead is available at Amazon.com.

Double Whammy

Two books in two days, BAM!
And did I mention I finished Sherlock Holmes? No? Oh. Well then.

Sherlock is awesome. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is awesome. Look into it.

Book no. 1: The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman.


Suffice it to say that my initial response to The Graveyard Book was:
"The Graveyard Book is over and done -
one of the best I've ever read -
and now that day is long past gone
I'm ready to sleep like the dead."

Reading fiction, especially children's-to-young-adult fiction, doesn't usually inspire me to write poetry, let alone rhyming lines, let alone at three o'clock in the morning.

Get thee to a bookstore. NOW.

Especially if you have a love of ghost stories. Gaiman is a wizard, I swear.

However, the volume that currently consumes my thoughts is none other than

Book no. 2, Brom's latest work: The Child Thief.


Do you, dear reader, recall how the 2003 film version of Peter Pan, starring Jeremy Sumpter (Peter) and Jason Isaacs (Hook), sought to re-inject some of the darkness of faery back into the tale which had been inevitably candy-coated through mediums like Disney? Brom's retelling of J.M. Barrie's classic novel gives that film a cold, back-handed, lip-splitting slap to the face.

This overhaul begins in modern New York, in Brooklyn, steeped in its drugs, thug violence, and urban brutality and desperation. Cue Peter, the Child Thief, ready to tempt his newly-found runaways into the Mist and out of this world, into one which is different in every way and yet equally cruel. Welcome to Avalon.

Like Brom's other works, The Child Thief is impossibly dark. In a way, rightfully so. Brom invites his audience to re-examine J.M. Barrie's own Peter, the first Peter, the true Peter. Brom quotes Barrie's novel, “The boys on the island vary, of course, in numbers, according as they get killed and so on; and when they seem to be growing up, which is against the rules, Peter thins them out; but at this time there were six of them, counting the twins as two.” And if that was't enough, he found another gem: ""I forget them after I kill them," he (Peter) replied carelessly.”

Personally, I had forgotten those lines. In light of them, the world of The Child Thief seems a logical, even a natural, inference to make. And while Brom's Peter occasionally shows the flippancy and the childishness that might excuse his predecessor - for surely a child would not understand death, not really, not the way an adult would - he has no excuses. He asks for none. He kills and has been killing all his long, ageless life.

Which brings me to a word of caution: this book is graphic. Terribly graphic. The kind of graphic that should never be translated into visual representations of any kind. If you can't take the thought of glistening entrails being anywhere other than inside one's body, close the book, put it back on the shelf, this one's not for you. (For the record, the language is also vulgar as hell.) Furthermore, whether or not your are opposed to the language, the portrayal, the violence, anything, this is the kind of book that once you're hooked, you're sunk, it's over, goodnight. The novel is 480 pages long. I read more than half of it today and forgot to eat. That hasn't happened to me before.

And yet, as much as it - as he - is terrifying, Brom's words and Peter's winning nature are enchanting. I found myself hoping, wishing for a reason for all the brutality, for the battles and the senselessness, and at first I thought there was. But Brom has a way of bringing out the painfully human in things which are portrayed as superhuman: of tearing away all artifice and illusion, of standing the most charismatic leader beside the most corrupt tyrant and stripping them both down to nothing more than greed, and lust, and grit, and pain. Identical. And, for some reason, it's impossible not to watch.

As harsh as I am toward Brom's Peterbird, I have to admit, he did a marvelous job in crafting him. The only spoiler I will give is a phrase used throughout the book: "...because Peter's smile is a most contagious thing." Sociopath or not, kidnapper or not, Peter is charismatic as hell. I fought with the concept of his faults all through the novel, wanting to make him into the simple hero minds like Disney's made him into, to make him into a person who was good, and only good. It wasn't possible. And that's okay. If I'd been a runaway, I'd only have had one answer, and it was the same, beginning of the novel to its end:

"I go willingly."

So if you have a mind, and a strong stomach, and perhaps even a touch of dark humor about you, pick up The Child Thief. But beware: it's not like you remember it.

30 Days of Night, Dark Days, and Return to Barrow, by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith

Remember this?

Yeah. Sadly, so do I.

Once upon an age ago I saw the film 30 Days of Night. Released in 2007 and directed by David Slade, it was first and foremost a bloodbath set in the month-long darkness of, you guessed it, Barrow, Alaska. At least writer Steve Niles was one of the screenplay artists. In spite of this fact, the film adaption falls very short from the comic which, I confess, surprised me.

Let me note before moving on that the only thing which was up to snuff for the film adaption was the level of gore. This movie - and these comics - are not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. They are gruesome, brutal, and exactly with the kind of mindlessness which comes under attack for influencing and encouraging violence in society. The movie is the closest I have ever come to those genres of films dedicated to violence and graphic visuals for the sake of both, and hopefully it will stay that way. Luckily the comic world is, though not at first glance, slightly more complex.

The first thing I must praise is the artwork. The film adaption of vampires, rather like Buffy vampires, have distorted faces, but in a less "vampire" way and more "alien" way:

See what I mean? I understand the choice of distorting the eyes - it could even be said to make sense. The vampires in the comic are visually distorted in much more disturbing ways - like in the mouth area - but the truth of the matter is that all the characters in the comic series are distorted. The style is cacophonous, noisy, it could even be said to be sloppy. It took some getting used to, to say the least. But an indistinct style is, perhaps, better for something so gory: what would otherwise be shown in glistening visceral detail is translated to the obscure and abstract the majority of the time.

What shocked me most, other than how much I warmed up to this erratic visual style, was the appearance of plot! [Gasp! Real plot?! No!] It nearly took the addition of the second volume, Dark Days to appear fully, but it indeed exists! There is one especially plot-inducing character in the first volume, I will concede, but I'd rather not spoil it. He's pretty fabulous, for a gory, grey-skinned bloodsucker.

Back to the wasteland of sequels, Dark Days shocked me immensely in that I believe it was better than its predecessor. Its premise was predictable, but overall I think it is a decent addition to the body of vampire literature the world has to offer. Likewise, volume three, Return to Barrow, while deceptively rerun-ish at the outset turns out to have a lovely little twist at the end. I highly recommend them, despite their horrid gore.

Also, fun fact: there was also a movie made of Dark Days. I am actually disappointed to find that Steve Niles is once again a participant in the production of the screenplay, because based on the trailer, this piece of cinema was dredged up from lesser origins. Having just read the comic it professes to be based on, I don't typically take it to be a good sign when I can, while watching, say the word "wrong" repeatedly in response to what the characters are saying. However, I reserve full judgment until the day I master my gag reflex enough to actually watch it.

If you're curious, here are some links for the films and the books alike. Happy hunting!

30 Days of Night (Comic)
30 Days of Night (Film)
Dark Days (Comic)
Dark Days (Film)
Return to Barrow (Comic)

Also, a Wiki page which details the various extensions of the original trilogy!

Dante's Inferno

Animatrix-style.

So there's this videogame of Dante's Inferno being released. You know the one. So they made a promotional movie out of the plot of the game, Animatrix-style.

Now when I say that, I mean that it's animated and switches styles at various times, lending a wide range of aesthetics and feelings to the piece as a whole. Oh, did I mention it's fabulous?

Or at least, if you're in the mood for dark, gory, terrifying animation that occasionally looks ridiculous and occasionally looks about ready to come out of the screen and eat you alive (cue demon babies and succubi, please). It recalls the style of every (good) dark vampire or goth-drama manga or anime I can think of, especially Hellsing.

I do have a quip or two with this piece, however. The first of these is Beatrice. She is, clearly, a devout and good soul in context of the story. That's the entire point, that she is a soul meant for Heaven. If this is the case, then why, for goodness' sake, does it make sense for her to strike a deal with the devil for her soul? And over Dante's faithfulness, no less? Also, doesn't just that simple act - a wager with Satan - taint her soul in the first place? It's a wholly counterintuitive plotbunny. I suppose the reason it bothers me so much is that it's so blatantly a plotbunny. There was no effort to mask the thought process of "So we need to get him to go into Hell to save Beatrice. Why is she there? She....struck a deal with the devil! That's it!" [insert sarcasm and eye-roll here]

On another note, overall I love the animation. There is only one style I have to unavoidably question. Everything about it was great, except for the title character. His face was entirely incongruous with the rest of his body. He was animated to be hugely buff, but he had giant anime eyes. I was immediately reminded of the quite unique style of Saint Seiya: Knights of the Zodiac, except on steroids. I mean really. Who thought that one up? Other than that the character design was almost flawless. My personal favorite will always be the one which reminded me of Hellsing the most: a thin but clearly monstrously strong Dante with long hair. That segment was full of my approval. I was remarkably sad to see it go.

And finally, the finale. In other words, the ending. There wasn't one. It would have been different if one of four things happened: i) Dante was unable to escape hell, ii) Dante went to heaven, iii) Dante directly stated he was condemned to a kind of outside-of-hell purgatory, or iv) if Dante bid farewell to Beatrice. None of these happened. There was no closure of any kind and while I am all for open-ended conclusions to stories for the sake of feeding the imagination of the viewer, they have to be well executed. This, really, was the thing that annoyed me the most. All of the options I listed left room for a second game/movie/story arc just fine if that was the angle the writers were going for. The difference is that mine aren't drowning in obscurity.

All the same, the animation for the creatures and fights is spectacular. It's gut-wrenching, it's visually appealing, and it certainly makes me pine desperately for an Xbox. So if you're a videogame or Hellsing fan, check this out. It's a jolly good romp through the circles of hell.

Here's a trailer, to appease the curious. Enjoy, and seriously, watch out for those demon babies.