Book Review | It Can’t Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis

So, I think everyone can agree, right now, that things are a mess, and have been for a while. Of course, being a fan of both dystopias and alternate histories, I decided to pick this book up from my bookshelves, after avoiding it for the last year or so. It Can’t Happen Here was Sinclair Lewis’s imaginings of what could happen if fascism took hold in 1930s America, following the events as they play out in the life of newspaper editor Doremus Jessup and his family. And while at times it feels a little hokey, it’s also chilling.

The book does a pretty good job of exploring the idea of a fascist 1930s America. The thing is, I love dystopias but they’re often far enough removed from one’s own reality as to lose a little bit of horror. With this book, the setting and the character of the place is familiar enough (even with the strange 1930s-style language and references and such) that its all a little more real. The bare glimpses of what happened in our own world during WWII makes the events all the more disturbing at times.

I mean, I must admit, at times the situations feel a little far-fetched. There’s certainly a rush-job as far as setting up this totalitarian state, but for all those moments there’s another line that sounds sounds straight out of an article printed today, capturing a time ‘when [instead of standard politics] the electorate hungered for frisky emotions… baptism by emersion in the creek, young love under the elms… fear of death when an automobile teeters above a canyon… -all the primitive sensations which they thought they found in the screaming of Buzz Windrip.” The words of the novel echo the news headlines and internet gossip of today, and doesn’t that just make one feel all warm and cozy and not ready to scream into the night.

A problem arises with the dialogue, however, in that it’s weird and stilted at times. It feels vaguely like watching a melodramatic film from the same time period, to the extent that my brain was framing many of the scenes in black and white 30s movie sets. It was a notable problem, in that, while reading, I’d suddenly noticed the quality of the writing dipping… and then I realized it was because I’d hit into a section of dialogue. This is one of the only books I’ve read in which I found myself preferring the narration over the portions with verbal character interaction.

Book Review | Guts by Raina Telgemeier

Something that should be fairly evident if you look at my reading history is that I love graphic novels. I’ve loved comics ever since I was in elementary school reading first the comic strips in the newspaper, then Barbie and Sonic the Hedgehog comics. The explosion of graphic novels for middle readers, is, in my opinion, absolutely awesome and I wish there had been even half of today’s selection when I was a kid. Raina Telgemeier has been such a visible part of that explosion.

Guts is one of her autobiographical volumes, like Smile and Sisters, that deals with the events of Raina’s childhood. This time the main subject addressed is her struggle with anxiety, which took the form of panic attacks and stomach upsets (thus the title of the book).

I really like how mental health is treated in this book. As someone who dealt with anxiety as a kid (still deals with, tbh), it’s nice to see it addressed, especially in a way that’s in no way belittling. It points out the ways that our society’s tendency to hide such things has a negative impact, while still showing that, ultimately, mental health shouldn’t be any different than physical health. The protagonist eventually starts seeing a therapist, something she hides from her friends because she fears their reactions. When she does eventually reveal this fact she’s instead met with small chorus of ‘oh, that’s not so weird’.

The art, as usual in a Telgemeier book, is colorful with animated emotional expressions. The backgrounds are simple, which fits well with the overall art style while also allowing the readers full attention to focus on the characters. What is interesting in this one, however, is the way she incorporated a bunch of green in certain segments of the book- specifically, what you could call puke-green- to show first Raina’s anxiety-induced stomach issues, and then subsequently an anxiety-attack in general.

The thing that does frustrate me a little is the fact that the bad behavior of one character only slightly gets addressed. It’s not jarring, really, but I hate when a bully-character seems to have no repercussions at all. It’s never addressed by the adults, other than a teacher essentially telling the protagonist to be nice to them in hopes that they’ll be nice to the protagonist. Of course, the teacher sees what is happening behind the scenes with this character, but still… I wish there had been some acknowledgement of the problem beyond the admonishment to be kind.

Book Review | Look Who’s Back by Timur Vermes

So, I’m going to start off by saying that this review is going to look a little different than the ones I’ve done in the past. I’ve been sitting on this book, letting my thoughts marinade, for over a week, and I’ve came to the conclusion that I can’t really approach it like a normal book.

It’s probably one of the most polarizing things I’ve read in a while.

That’s inevitable, I suppose, with a book that poses the question, ‘what-if Hitler was dropped into the beginning of the twenty-first century? That is the plot of Look Who’s Back, where Adolph Hitler is dropped unceremoniously into a random German park in the year 2011. In this alternate 2011, he is just as keen to grasp power as he was in the 1940s, and so embarks on a journey through modern media to become a YouTube and tv sensation.

Look Who’s Back, if you can’t tell already, is a commentary on our current media, particularly- from what I can tell- concerning how we as an audience approach the ‘stars’ of that media we consume. It is a strange piece of satire.

However, in my opinion, it is effective. It’s the sort of satire where, instead of laughing, you find yourself asking- pardon my french- ‘wtf?’ Part of this is, I think, due to Vermes’ treatment of his protagonist, who never completely settles into the 21st century, but rather flounders as he tries to make sense of this work- not always so effectively. And what begins as a humorous ‘look at this horrible person, now stripped of power and truly a fish out of water’, turns into something else, as few people within Hitler’s circle question him- instead assuming that he is merely portraying a character, and doing so in order to point out the flaws of our current civilization- because if Hitler says it then it much be awful.

I found myself , at times, liking this person, or at least feeling sympathy for him, even while knowing who he is, only to come back around within a few pages and be stopped dead at the hateful rhetoric which inevitably spews from Hitler’s mind. The fact that Vermes is able to do this, to capture both that sickening charisma and the monster it masks, really says something for his abilities as a writer.

That being said, there are definite slow moments in the book, sections that could have done with a bit of pruning. Some portions spend perhaps, too much time in Hitler’s head, and the affect isn’t an adding to the character, or an insightful reflection upon something, but instead of dragging of the book’s forward momentum.

In addition, there’s something to be said for the actual subject material of the book- the choice to have Hitler as the protagonist and narrator of the book at all, and thus given a voice in a brand-new era. It’s striking, the amount of times in the book where Hitler and the production company that puts him on tv, is criticized for this same thing, partially by groups who were most affected by the decisions of Hitler and Nazi Germany. These groups are subsequently dismissed as being too reactive and not seeing the satire for what it is, according to characters in the book. Hitler’s supporters refuse to consider the fact that there are still a large amount of people in Germany, as well as the world as a whole, who would gladly accept Hitler’s rhetoric as the truth- agreeing with his viewpoints wholeheartedly. The harm that those words, or just the emphasis on Hitler in general, could cause, even if used in a satirical manner.

There is, after all, a reason why naming the identify of mass-shooters, is discouraged. They don’t deserve to be remembered. The victims do.

And the same goes, in my opinion, for this book. I’m not certain we are, as a society, in a place where we can pull out these words satirically. Where we can say we’re far enough removed from the events of the past. As long as there are still people out there who would read this book as a sort of wish-fulfillment fantasy, I’m not sure we’re ready. Perhaps, a few years ago, I would have thought we were. Not so much so today.

I can’t say whether or not to read this book. It’s thought provoking and well-written, however it’s also perpetuating the hype and, arguably, celebritizing of Adolf Hitler. I’ll just leave you with that.

Book Review | Vox Machina Origins Vol 1 by Colville, Mercer, Samson, & Northrop

For anyone who knows me, it’s not surprising that books rank pretty high on my list of potential Christmas gifts. I think that goes for just about any bookworm out there, normally, however, those tend to be novels or cookbooks. Well, this Christmas was the year of the graphic novel, including the second volume of Vox Machina Origins. Of course, then, I had to reread the first volume to get myself back into the flow of the story. And, since I’d never written a review on the first volume, having been purchased in the time when my blog was on pause, I decided I might as well do so now. 

Vox Machina, for those of you who aren’t aware, is the first campaign of the real play D & D series Critical Role. The Origins series takes place prior to where the episodes begin, recounting the events that occurred when it was still the cast’s home game. The first volume introduces all the characters as they have to solve the mystery of a poisoned water supply, slowly realizing that things are less mundane than they initially seem. 

I find this volume to be a pretty good introduction to the world of Exandria and Vox Machina. It’s completely accessible for those who have no knowledge of the world or characters. The comics don’t venture too much into the Exandria-specific elements of the world, keeping the setting fairly standard D & D. Additionally, despite having six main characters, they’re introduced slowly enough and their personalities stand out enough that one shouldn’t have much issue with keeping track of who is who.

One thing that I very much appreciate about this graphic novel is that they’ve kept an important element of Critical Role’s brand of storytelling- it’s ability to thoroughly mix action, comedy, and drama. The battle sequences are well done, the action being smooth and easy to follow. Boy though, they really don’t step away from the violence. Chokings, decapitations, heck people being cleaved in half… it happens. Lots of daggers and arrows. It’s nothing too gory though. It’s just a thing. Not sure you could really avoid it in this sort of story anyway. Additionally, there’s a steady stream of humor through the story (thank you Scanlan Shorthalt, you wonderful bard you) to temper all the death, torture, kidnapping, and sibling-fueled angst. 

I will admit to having a bit of difficulty following a few of the strands in the first readthrough, however. As the party is just coming together, the disparate pieces flow in through different characters and it was, at times, a little tricky to pull together those separate bits of information. Also, occasionally the artist liberally reuses panel angles. That’s ordinarily not a thing I’d notice, but it happened a few different times and one of those segments was a three-page thing. 

Overall, though, I really enjoyed the first volume. I like to think, even if I hadn’t been familiar with the world already, it’s a story I would enjoy. Being a fan, though, I loved being able to see everything on the page, rather than leaving it to my imagination.

Book Review | Crank by Ellen Hopkins

To be upfront, gritty YA fiction like Ellen Hopkins writes is not really my thing. When I was in high school it was practically the only YA available to me, and I swiftly turned to sci-fi and fanfic during those years. Teaching that age group, however, and finding myself writing YA, I’ve tried dipping back in over the past bit. I won’t say that Crank is a favorite of mine, but I’m definitely glad that I read it. 

Crank is the story of Kristina, a straight-A all american girl who, on a trip to visit her estranged father, falls into the world of addiction- specifically meth, otherwise known as crank. Her world swiftly starts to unravel with each new set of choices she (as Kristina and as her alter-ego, Bree) makes. 

And boy is this one a downer. It’s like standing and looking at the train tracks and knowing the train is going to go off the rails, and then watching it unfold bit by horrible bit. Because the thing is that the events are not surprising in the least. You can see them coming from a mile away because of all the poor choices the protagonist (and everyone else around her really) is making, as well as the foreshadowing set up by the author. The cause and effect is realistic, each decision having an affect on the course of Kristina/Bree’s life. You can very much see why this book has been so successful as an anti-drug tool. 

Now, as previously stated, gritty isn’t really my thing. If this was a standard novel I probably would never have picked it up, however, there’s something else that Ellen Hopkins is known for, and that’s the style of her writing. Namely the fact that most, if not all, of her novels are in verse form. If there’s anything that could off-set the grittiness for me it would be poetry. And she mostly succeeded here. The poetry definitely leans free-verse, and some are definitely more effective than others, but it definitely lends something to the narrative. After all, what better way to depict a disjointed experience than with a genre that allows one to simultaneously throw away and embrace form- allows the words to be thrown across the page, the reader forced to follow the line as best as they can.

Unfortunately, this same form takes away a bit from the stories surrounding world. The poems are largely small things, snippet-short moments that, while allowing for vibrant glimpses of Kristina/Bree’s experience, fall short when showing anything else. Dialogue is scant in this book, the exception being a couple of choice characters. In a book that has a sizable cast, that creates a situation where quite a few simply feel like placeholders. Jake, the brother. Sarah, the best friend who just doesn’t fit anymore. While the story is, of course, focused on Kristina and her mental state I feel that the narrative loses a bit in these voices being mostly absent from the story. 

All in all, not one of my favorite books, but it’s definitely a solid piece of writing. I don’t think I’ll be rereading it any time soon, but I can definitely appreciate the story and the artistry of it.

Book Review | The Adventure Zone- Petals to the Metal by Pietsch & McElroy

Ah, another Adventure Zone graphic novel. These hadn’t let me down in previous installments so I had my hopes set pretty high for this one, and I’m happy to say that I wasn’t disappointed.

There’s a lot that happens here, but a quick sum-up would be that Merle, Taako, and Magnus (have they gotten the moniker tres horny boys yet?) are sent to retrieve The Gaia Sash, an artifact that has the power to control nature. In attempting to do so, however, they run into The Raven, a thief who now controls the Gaia Sash. In order to take the sash back they team up with Hurley, a member of the Goldcliff militia and The Raven’s former battlewagon racing partner, racing (literally) to take back the Gaia Sash and rescue Hurley’s partner, and lost love, from its power.

Okay, so there’s a lot to like about this story, but first and foremost I’ll say that it’s well-paced. There’s a lot that happens in this book, from a foreboding and mysterious presence looming large over the moon base, to a bank-heist, to an undercover mission, to the race itself, and none of it feels as if it takes up too much space in the narrative. If anything, there’s a small portion that I would have liked to see more of (the undercover section was much-shrunk in this version compared to the podcast), as the brevity created one of those short little ‘did-I-miss-something’ moments that I found in the first volume. However, given the space allowed in which to tell the story I understand the decision. What’s important is that the story never drags, with the normal amount of humor throughout, and the important parts of the narrative are given the emphasis they deserve.

Notably this is the case with Sloane (The Raven) and Hurley. One of the things The Adventure Zone does well is its secondary characters and that’s no exception here. It’s not always easy, inserting a new character in and balancing them with the established cast, but Hurley’s interactions with the normal group are fun. She’s got just enough chaos to fit in with the crew while still maintaining herself as the sane one. We see less of Sloane, but the comic does a pretty good job of showing some pre-gaia-sash moments and I found myself genuinely really loving those two characters and rooting, throughout the story, for them to find their way back to each other.

Okay, so spoilers here for those familiar with the podcast but not the comic, but I fail to see how I can accurately review this book without mentioning this. If you want to avoid that, skip this paragraph. There was a problem that the McElroy’s ran into, when originally creating the podcast. A problematic (I hate the word but it is what it is) decision in the way the story was resolved, that was not done to be hurtful but ultimately still was. It was a relief to find that they, in adapting the story to graphic novel, managed to simultaneously stay true to the original story that they created while fixing the problem. My favorite part about this comic, actually. Yay for opposing toxic tropes!

Ultimately, I think this is my favorite Adventure Zone Graphic Novel so far. The story and humor are there, with a splash of drama and mystery to go along. Plus, WLW romance!

Book Review | The Fool’s Girl by Celia Rees

There are times in which I feel, for a person with an English Lit degree, terribly under-read. Reading a YA Shakespearean retelling and realizing I have only cursory knowledge of the source material is one of those times. 

The Fool’s Girl essentially continues the story of Twelfth Night through the eyes of Violetta, the daughter of the play’s protagonist, after their country has fallen apart. She, along with Feste, the fool, search for an ancient relic, stolen by Malvolio- in a scheme entangling a London playwright by name of William Shakespeare.

Well, there certainly is enough drama to keep the story going. Politics, familial betrayal, ghosts… all of this and more come about in the story Violetta tells Will, taking the reader along for the ride. Rees flips between 3red and 1st person to do so, which I find interesting.

I find myself much preferring the 1st person however- the voice is much more compelling, the language richer, the descriptions more vibrant. The writing in the 3rd person sections are still good, but it feels flat somehow in comparison. There’s an awful lot of ‘telling’ going on here, where some description, some sense of internal life, would have done wonders. It’s in these 3rd person sections that the story drags.

Other than the first person sections, I had difficulty connecting to Violetta. She just doesn’t seem to come off the page as much as I would hope. This goes doubly for most of the minor characters, including the love interest. Feste, however, I greatly enjoyed. He’s tricky and biting. Despite caring for people (well, his specific people), he’s not nice, which in my opinion makes him one of the best sort of fools.

Speaking of Feste and other characters taken from Twelfth Night, however I will say that those readers who have a fondness for them won’t find this the most cheerful read. Rees decides in this story to flip genres on this poor cast of characters, shifting the story of Twelfth Night from comedy to tragedy as time goes on and the story continues past the dropping of the metaphorical curtain. Such is the way with retellings, twisting and turning the original story to make something new, still I must admit that the turn was pretty drastic and in several occasions I would argue a poor decision regarding characterization.

Aggretsuko – Metal to the Max by Barnes, Williams, and Hickey

Okay, first off, thank you to netgalley for providing me with a free eARC in exchange for an honest review.

For those of you unfamiliar with Aggretsuko it is an animated series, both online and on netflix, focusing in on Retsuko, the day-to-day aggravations of her job, and her heavy metal habit- the way she deals with said job. On paper that sounds…. well, kind of weird, but the results are a great blend of cute and satire that is really unique. Recently Oni press has created a comic book series based off of the story and this graphic novel collects the first three issues.

What I love about this comic is how well it manages to translate the animated series into graphic novel format. The same brand of humor is there, with inconsiderate coworkers and bosses slowly building Retsuko’s stress levels. The strange mixture of true-to-life and exaggeration is ever-present, with both a head-cold-zombie chase through the office as well as social-media-fame shallowness being the fuel for Retsuko’s ire.

Interestingly, each comic was created by a different author/illustrator. The stories all fit well together, forming a cohesive tone, if not an overarching story. My favorite of the three is probably the first, “Down with the Sickness”. It’s by far the lowest regarding amount of dialogue, but the mad race through the office, mop-wielding and avoiding their fallen co-workers, is a thoroughly pre-covid take on infectious disease- which I really think I needed in all this craziness. Second favorite would probably be “The Visitor”, in which an overly enthusiastic worker from Canada is sent on an exchange in order to grow worker morale. Cultures clash, obviously. The addition of a new character is always fun, and I thoroughly enjoyed this Karen (yes that’s her name).

I do, however, feel they may have almost played it too safe in regards to the art style at times. As previously stated, there’s a cohesion present among the different stories, and while that works, one of the advantages of having multiple creators work on a series is the open-possibilities, seeing the different ways the world can be interpreted artistically. While there was some variation in styles, notably a softer, rounder look in “Down with the Sickness” (the first comic), they mostly remain a match for the netflix series. All of the art is great, but I would have appreciated a wider variety.

Overall, if you’re a fan of Aggretsuko, you wouldn’t be remiss in picking up the graphic novel. The stories, additionally will make sense if you’re not familiar with the Netflix series, and may be a good way to get a taste of the characters and story, if you don’t mind a few minor spoilers.

Book Review | The Adventure Zone- Here There be Gerblins by Carey Pietsch & the McElroys

So, normally it’s fairly standard to start with the first book of a series and then make your way forward. For those of you who’ve seen my previous review on The Adventure Zone you’ll know that definitely didn’t happen, starting out on the second volume instead. Not that big a deal, since I’ve already listened to the podcast, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t thrilled to finally get the first volume for Christmas this year.

The art is by Carey Pietsch, and is so fitting for the series mixture of comedy and at-times-drama, lively and very much animated, especially regarding expressions. It’s colored in a palette that veers from cool to warm in turn. The color contrast works though, the chosen colors still complementing each other interestingly.

The comic does a fantastic job of transferring the story from the podcast to a visual media, especially in this earliest arc which was, understandably, a little shaky in its original format. I mean, they hadn’t expected The Adventure Zone to turn into what it became- originally just being a sort of one-off break in MBMBAM (the McElroy’s original podcast). The comic takes what the original iteration of the story and strengthens it, arguably benefiting from having the story and the characters already established. The characters that the McElroy’s had finally fully discovered by the end of the series sit there on the page.

And, just like in the podcast, where the story really shines is in the banter between the characters. The Adventure Zone comic is a meta-tastic fourth-wall-breaking piece of comedy, taking the joking ‘are we really doing this?’ nature of the earliest portions of the series and running with it, transferring it onto the page in the form of characters who, although are very grounded in the world they come from, don’t really take a lot seriously…. until they do. Because interspersed between those moments of silliness and Kenny Chesney references are real moments, horror and awe and connections-formed and being formed, that make these characters more than a bunch of jokes.

The meta-ness of course, might not be for everyone. The McElroy’s have a certain brand of humor that’s a little manic, a little off-the wall, that (like any brand of humor or storytelling) isn’t for everyone. If you’d rather have your fantasy story uninterrupted by jokes, or if the idea of the DM being an actual character who occasionally pops up in the corner of a panel, like some sort of polo-shirt wearing guiding voice, is off-putting, then this may not be the story for you.

For me, however, it was just what I needed, on this strange cut-off Christmas.

Book Review | The Twelve Dogs of Christmas by David Rosenfelt

It’s always a risk, picking up a book mini-series, even if the novels are ones that can stand-alone, like your average mystery novel. Still, it can be nice, sometimes, coming in blind, popping into an already-established world. Thus, I didn’t mind picking up the 15th book in the Andy Carpenter series The Twelve Dogs of Christmas, a novel about a gruff puppy-rescuer accused of murdering her neighbor after his complaints about her number of dogs. 

It’s an interesting enough story, with a sufficient number of twists and complications to keep one’s interest. It’s also a quick read, with pretty good pacing throughout. Unlike a few mysteries I’ve read, the details and clues are well-played out, the evidence easy to follow as it’s put together and presented by Andy in the courtroom.

The writing is pretty straight-forward, but the tone is fairly lighthearted for the subject material involved. There’s a light humor here that comes out during those courtroom scenes where the protagonist/narrator can use his wit and sarcasm. Those were definitely some of my favorite scenes.

Still, I can’t say the story really sucked me in. The characters, other than Andy and the accused Martha, felt a little bland (of course that can happen in the middle of a series, so that may be on me). And while the narrative started out strong and the courtroom scenes were good, I felt myself losing interest at times.

Long story short, while I don’t feel I wasted any time by reading this one, I’ll probably not be picking up another nook in the series.