Scarlet Traces

There’s something about nineteenth century literature that seems to inspire unofficial sequels and adaptions. It could simply be that everything from the period is in the public domain and free for people to do with as they please but I think it’s more than that. Works of literature from earlier periods are similarly available but don’t receive anywhere near as much attention.

Glancing at shelves in book shops reveal the likes of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Adam Roberts’ Swiftly, and Stephen Baxter’s The Time Ships, while TV gives us the BBC’s immensely popular Sherlock and a seemingly endless supply of Dickens, Bronte, and Stoker adaptions. If you’re into Doctor ho you’ll be aware that director Philip Hinchcliff took a lot of the period’s most famous novels as starting points for some of the show’s most famous stories.

Comic books are not immune to plundering this era for inspiration. Alan Moore’s Extraordinary League started off as a Justice League of Victorian literary creations and Warren Ellis has dipped in and out of the period for various things too. It’s also the period that provided the inspiration for Scarlet Traces.

One of the most obvious things to note about Scarlet Traces (subtitle: The Great Game) is that it is billed as a sequel to Wells’ The War of the Worlds. It’s one of the most heavily adapted and sequelised products of century nineteen, with everyone from Moore to Orson Welles getting involved. Clearly there’s something about Martians invading Earth in giant tripods that writerly types find irresistible.

The writerly type in this case is Ian Edginton. As already noted this is not an adaption of a work simply inspired by the novel, this is a sequel. Earth not only repelled the invasion but went on the offensive, using salvaged Martian technology to travel into outer space and improve living conditions on the planet. Specifically Britain. As it was Britain that as invaded by the Martians it’s Britain that had exclusive access to the alien gizmos, which has led to a world in which the Empire is still the leading, probably only superpower.

The plot focuses on an attack mounted on Mars. It’s fairly predictable and a little bloated around the edges at times, but it doesn’t drag and is written nicely enough to hold interest. Where the book really shines is in the world building. Gaps are filed in about the history of the world since the Martian’s made first contact. Edginton has a clear and strong vision for how he thinks this world works and it shows. It’s this, more than plot or characterisation (both overrated), that make me recommend this book.

Providing the art is Edginton’s frequent collaborator D’Israeli. He is, as always, a good choice for the sort of script Edginton produces. Rounded, expressive faces; towering rocket bases; square jawed, Dan Dare-alike space captains; and gleaming cityscapes are all handled with equal brilliance, showing the man’s versatility in the medium.

Edginton and D’Israeli are a formidable creative team. I’ve yet to read anything they’ve turned out together that’s less than enjoyable. This is one of the best examples of what the partnership can do. A clear vision for a fictional world, suitable artwork that’s pleasing on the eye, and a steady stream of revelations. I rarely ask for more form a comic.

Lucifer

If you’ve read The Sandman you’ll be familiar with Neil Gaiman’s fictional depiction of Lucifer Morningstar. Apparently somebody over at DC’s Vertigo offices read the series and was so impressed by this fairly minor character that they decided they wanted him to star in his own eponymous series.

And that’s how we got Lucifer.

Getting someone other than Gaiman to write the sequel series was a smart move. Gaiman clearly had little to see about or with the character of Lucifer otherwise he’d have featured far more prominently in Sandman. Giving the book to someone whom Gaiman approved of ensured that a similar authorial tone would be used but by somebody who actually had something of worth to say.

And this is the point at which I mention Mike Carey’s name.

It’s not that Carey’s a bad writer. I bought the first dozen or so issues of his Uwritten series before deciding that it was the sort of thing I’d rather own as trades (I’m shallow) and enjoyed the single Felix Castor novel I read well enough. No matter how friendly he is with Gaiman he wouldn’t be brought in to pen the follow up to such a massively successful series as Sandman if he was a bad writer. In fact his work here is of a higher standard than the Neverwhere adaption he did, because he’s allowed to use his own and build on Gaiman’s work rather than simply turn something that already exists into a comic script.

It’s just that… well, he’s not exactly a big name is he? And I think that’s part of the problem. Carey is viewed as a safe pair of hands brought in to do a competent job. He’s someone who’ll produce something that won’t get critics fired up into apoplectic rages, someone who’ll keep the money rolling in.

I’m sure that image is part of the reason more people haven’t read Lucifer and part of the reason it isn’t more regularly cited as a must-read. It’s not because of poor quality because actually Carey turned out a pretty good series.

Lucifer gets off to a shaky start, much like Sandman did before it, but once it’s underway it becomes something far more than just a hastily churned out cash-in. With Sandman Gaiman explored the nature of storytelling, dreams and reality. Carey picks his own themes, destiny and free will, and explores them in a similar fashion. With a central character who was created to be the antithesis of God, by God, this was a clever (or perhaps overly ambitious) decision. Surprisingly Carey pulls it off.

Lucifer also looks at religion more than Sandman did. Gaiman seemed to use iconography more than the actual religions themselves (look at the gods he chooses to use from the Egyptian pantheon and what he does with them) but Carey actually delves into the religions as systems of belief more. Carey makes great use of the Jewish and Christian religions and adopts Ragnarok as a running theme. He also dips into various other religions and mythologies in minor arcs too. It’s a far better researched approach than Gaiman used, and you get the feeling things aren’t just being used because they’ll be cool or impactful.

One thing that Lucifer lacks is a single standout artist. Sandman was lucky enough to cycle through a number of very impressive artists during its seven years on the shelves. Lucifer never gets an artist that provides any iconic images or does some career best work. Perhaps that’s another reason it’s not often cited as a must read.

Lucifer was never going to have the impact its parent comic did. Sandman, the book about dreams and reality, had a far cooler concept. It also had Neil Gaiman, a man who proved very talented at marketing himself. That wasn’t and isn’t a skill Mike Carey has. But with Unwritten shaping up to be the best Vertigo series in quite some time it’s possible people may be encouraged to delve into Carey’s proverbial back catalogues to see what else he’s produced over the years. If that happens then Lucifer may finally be viewed as the hit it deserves to be.

Just don’t expect it to get out of Sandman’s shadow anytime soon.

Why Are You Doing This?

It would be pretentious to say that Why Are You Doing This? by writer-artist Jason is about the meaning of life. It would be inaccurate too. It’s not about the meaning of life but it does look at deeper themes and the nature of humanity in the western world more than the average Mark Millar or Grant Morrison book ever would.

The story’s central character, Alex, finds himself framed for murder and on the run from the law after spending a week watering his pal’s plants. Having recently split from his girlfriend of four years he’s in a reflective mood throughout the story, which Jason uses to explore themes such as loneliness, love, and social justice. Some of these themes, such as love, are laid on a little too thick in places while others, such as social justice, could be considered underdeveloped. More could certainly have been made of the failings of the legal system that ultimately lead the book to happen.

A recurring idea of the book is the worth of anecdotes that can be told during an evening with friends. At several points Alex notes that he has very few to tell and reflects on their importance. Jason asks, through secondary character and murder victim Claude, if the idea is that the person with the most anecdotes when they die “wins”. He also notes that Ernest Hemingway led a life that took him all over the world but that his life ended in suicide. Anecdotes, interesting sequences from life, are clearly of great importance to the writer and he uses this book to get us thinking about them, but holds off from attempting to provide a definitive answer to the question. It’s a book that wants to make you think rather than impose beliefs and views on you.

It should be pointed out that Alex, and every other character in the book (including, presumably, the deceased Hemingway), is a dog. Or possibly a cat, it’s not overly clear. But that’s not as important to the story as it could be. It’s more because Jason likes drawing animals than for anything else. Or perhaps because he feels he’s better at drawing them. It’s certainly not designed to introduce a feeling of whimsy because this is a distinctly unwhimsical title in every other regard. If anything I’d say it’s to lighten the sense of despair and depression that the story induces.

Not that it’s a bad book. Reading a tale of despair and depression can make you more appreciative of what you’ve got. And as such stories go this one is well written. A lot happens during the slender page count, with every panel contributing something to the advancement of the plot or the fleshing out of a character. It’s a good story told confidently.

X-Men: Days of Future Past

I'd open this with a joke about time travel never going out of fashion but I don't know how to structure it. Just imagine I've done it and chuckle to yourself about how clever an observation it was.

Days of Future Past is not only one of the greatest, if grammatically puzzling, titles for a comic story ever it's also a highlight of X-Men canon. Considering the number of stories that are regarded as classics within said canon that's not something I say lightly. It was written by Chris Claremont during his immense decade-plus run on the X-books. During that time he wrote more stories now considered classics than anyone else no named Stan Lee or Jack Kirby has for any other group or character. Days of Future Past is amongst his best.

The basic premise is that the adult consciousness of Kitty Pryde gets sent back in time, from 2013 eerily enough, to inhabit her teenage body in order to avert impending doom at the hands of an army of Sentinels. After the standard exchanges where she convinces the younger earlier incarnations that she is who she says she is, naturally enough featuring Wolverine’s heightened senses, the gang set about stopping an assassination attempt by Mystique's Brotherhood that proved a pivotal moment in history. It may sound basic now but that's because time travel has become so commonplace in TV, movies, fiction and pop culture in general. This story was ahead of its time and, more importantly is better than the average "timey-wimey" fluff that gets churned out today.

The time shifting shenanigans allow for more impactful moments than the average Marvel book, then or now. Claremont is free to kill off as many future incarnations of characters as he pleases, something he embraces. The death toll ratchets up, demonstrating that the future is indeed incredibly bleak and something the X-Men are right to try and avoid. Claremont also employs one of his favourite tricks, featuring reformed Magneto.

It’s a great piece of world building, a demonstration of Claremont’s skill as a writer of comic books. Using established continuity he creates a bleak world with a compelling history that’s both fleshed out and intriguing enough to make you want to explore it more. Unfortunately some people did just that: in the years since Days of Future Past first appeared Marvel have milked the DOFP continuity dry, coming as close as they can to robbing the original of its appeal. Fox are getting in on the act too, with a film adaption due out next year. Thankfully no matter how much inferior nonsense they pump out the original’s standing can’t be diminished.

Squeezed into just two issues Days of Future Past was and is a triumph, one that changed what an X-Men comic could do. It is one of the highest peaks of Claremont's lengthy X-Men career.

Deadpool: Soul Hunter

The second trade paperback of the current Deadpool series brings a few new things with it. Chief among them is a new artist. The distinctive, emotive work of Tony Moore is out, replaced by the work of Mike Hawthorne and, for one issue only, Scott Koblish. The deliberately oddball plot of ghostly presidents invading America is also gone, replaced by something that allows for similar japes without feeling at all repetitive. There’s also a little exploration of the lead character’s origins, something Deadpool’s mostly avoided in his twenty years of Marvel appearances.

If you’re worried that giving ‘The Merc With a Mouth’ a definitive origin story will ruin him you don’t need to worry. Writers Gerry Duggan and Brian Posehn are as aware that humour is what makes the character work as they were in their first six issue arc. They don’t overload on revelations. It’s more just a few hints and teases as to Deadpool having a past beyond the Weapon X here. And that’s a good thing, because over the last few years Deadpool has become one of the publisher’s more popular characters. Giving him a more substantial past helps to make him less of a Wolverine knock-off.

Fun is still the order of the day with this book though. That’s clear from the first issue of the collection, which sees Koblish come on board to provide the art for an eighties-inspired flashback story which sets up the rest of the issue. This includes amusing cameos from Peter Parker and J Jonah Jameson and Deadpool invading the fabled Genie in a Bottle Iron Man story. It’s the sort of story that’s perfect for Deadpool.

The central plot sees Deadpool having to track down members of the public who have gained superpowers by making deals with a demon. One is invulnerable to harm. The second is a clear (but well-meaning) riff on DC’s Aquaman and how ultimately useless his basic power is. Another is a businessman who can see into the future and who is modelled on a certain New York billionaire.

Along the way the current day Spiderman appears (that’s Doctor Octopus’s psyche in Peter Parker’s body, fact fans), along with a bunch of C-list villains. Seeing Deadpool battle the likes of Lady Stilt Man, The Trapster and his long-time pal-slash-enemy The Taskmaster in a climactic fight scene is a highlight of the book.

What’s most noteworthy about this collection in comparison to the first is that it could be considered a team book. Deadpool is still joined by the ghost of Benjamin Franklin and throughout the book as the soul of SHIELD Agent Preston in his mind. When he hooks back up with Michael the SHIELD psychic from Dead Presidents the team is complete.

As with the first collection Soul Hunter is a fun and enjoyable read written by people who know how to make Deadpool funny as well as interesting. That’s a rare combo, as history has proven. If you’ve ever wanted to read a Deadpool comic this is the series to begin with.