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.

2000 AD prog 1824

It’s become all the rage for comics to provide jumping on points for new readers. Every couple of years DC produces a summer crossover rejigging their fictional universe(s), pushing one character to the fore and shunting others out of the spotlight. Marvel has taken to printing issues with point one attached to their number to denote that it’s a particularly new reader friendly issue, not just the beginning of a new story but a story that explains the cast and their relations with one another to ease in the uninitiated.

Outside of the big two guys like Mark Millar and Mike Mignola tend to write in miniseries. They pipe out an above average number of issues with a number one printed on the front, ideal places for casual or new readers to start out.

This sort of approach is not unfamiliar to 2000 AD. Being an anthology book new tales have always started regularly, providing a good place for new or lapsed readers to get stuck in. They’re rarely marketed as such though. They’re just part of the way the book’s always worked.

Until recently that is. By accident or design (probably the latter) prog 1824 is an ideal buy for anyone who’s never picked up an issue or not read one in a while. It’s been touted as such by the company too. This, coupled with the title’s recent inaugural foray into inter-strip crossovers, could indicate that 2000 AD is changing tacks with regard to how it’s perceived alongside comic producers who put out numerous titles each week instead of just one.

Prog 1824 is comprised of four strips. It opens with a Judge Dredd tale. This is a logical choice as the character is easily 2000 AD’s most famous creation. I’ve never been a huge fan of Dredd so I was never going to be wildly into this story. It did what it needed to do and seemed to be a fine example of what Dredd’s known for.

The plot? Someone tries to assassinate a high ranking Judge but Dredd saves them in the nick of time. There’s a bike chase which ends with the would-be-assassin escaping and Dredd barking that he (or she or it) must be brought in at any cost.

That’s followed with the return of Dandridge, a character first introduced in 2009. We don’t see him until the final panel, but the build-up to his appearance makes it clear that he’s a playboy adventurer type in the vein of James Bond and various British TV spies from the 70s. That’s backed up by him clearly being patterned after Jason King. The tone of the title is very much in the spirit of King’s show, as well as The Avengers.

The world of Dandridge (another character I’m not overly familiar with but one I have more time for than Dredd) is interesting, based on these five pages. Ghosts seem to be a standard part of life while the secret service has access to cyborgs with golden cannons in place of stomachs. There’s a golem too. And some pub patrons that look like they’ve just stepped out of the 1970s.

There’s no real plot to speak of. It’s essentially one long setup for Dandridge’s intro. It was still enjoyable though, a testament to the writing ability of Alec Worley and Warren Pleece’s artwork. Pleece’s work in particular is excellent. His panels are detailed but never overly busy, and he does a fine job of nudging the story along without rushing things.

Tucked away before the final entry in the prog is Tharg’s 3rillers: Survival Geeks. This opening instalment is a pleasing read, despite its Americanised (by which I mean overly produced, I think) art style it’s a very British strip. References to the BBC, bus stops and Topshop are all well and good, but what really makes it clear that this is proud to be British is a reference to Paul McGann being in Doctor Who. Yeah it’s a bit Russell T Davies and Queer as Folk, but it’s a joke a creative team from outside the UK would be unlikely to make, even if they were fans.

A girl wakes from a one night stand to find that she’s spent the evening with one of three members of a household that jumps between realities. It’s a delightful (if somewhat unoriginal) premise that could easily run for years. It’s currently got three issues to prove itself and the mettle of its creators. Sadly the ending, which sees a Dark Lord turn up riding a cross between a xenomorph and a dragon, didn’t quite match the tone of the preceding pages.

The issue closes with the return of Stickleback. I’ve reviewed the first collected volume of this character’s exploits before (read that here). In short I enjoyed it. While D’Israeli’s artwork is as rich as ever the writing is not as welcoming and inclusive as the jumping on point hype would suggest. With no prior knowledge of the character I imagine the opening part of Number of the Beast is an alienating mystery. Even being familiar with the character didn’t help me to fathom what was going on.

Hopefully things will become clear as the story unfolds. Assuming that’s the case Number of the Beast part one seems to work well enough as the opening part of an ongoing tale. It certainly ends on a high note: a single page splash that sees three giant mechanoids towering over a backstreet with sees dinosaurs and lizardmen weaving between to Victorian gentlemen and a billboard advertisement for the London Overground. It’s the future mixed with the past, a fitting image for an introductory issue of 2000 AD to end on.

Stickleback

2000 AD, I’m told, used to be a must-buy for every comic fan in Britain. It was the home of Judge Dredd, Nemesis the Warlock, Strontium Dog, and the ABC Warriors. It was the comic you bought for a sense of humour and a healthy dose of creativity. Perhaps more importantly it was the comic that gave early career exposure to creators and artists such as Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman, Garth Ennis, Alan Davis, Steve Dillon, Grant Morrison, Kevin O’Neill, and Dave Gibbons. 2000 AD earned a reputation early on in its life as a book of very high quality, and one that wasn’t afraid to give unknowns a chance.

Sadly the modern 2000 AD has lost a little of this lustre. The dark drive Marvel and DC undertook in the 80s and 90s, ironically spearheaded largely by writers and artists who had received their starts at 2000 AD, stripped away part of the mystique of the British title. So did the increased availability of those companies’ titles in Britain.

While the weekly release still features the likes of Dredd it’s rare for a series to reach the heights of popularity enjoyed by strips decades ago. Occasionally though there are still flashes of ingenuity when a particularly enjoyable strip gets commissioned. One such title was brought to us in 2006 when writer Ian Edginton and artist D’Israeli brought us Stickleback. Despite the familiar mix of steampunk and Victoriana it felt fresh and exciting.

The first set of issues, collected under the name England’s Glory, introduces us to the titular Stickleback. Clearly meant to put readers in mind of Sherlock Holmes’ nemesis James Moriarty, he is a criminal mastermind with a gaggle of freakish henchmen at his beck and call. He bears a deformity himself: his spine spikes out through his back, visible in an ever-present sight gag sticking through whatever he happens to be wearing.

It’s this physical attribute that gives the character his name apparently, although I’m a little unclear as to why. I always thought a stickleback was a type of fish.

The pacing of the book is predictably good. That’s a trick that 2000 AD titles usually pull off well, thanks to the six pages generally given to each instalment of a story. It means that more plot has to be packed into a smaller amount of space than the comics of larger companies, discouraging authors from including anything that can’t be deemed essential.

The supporting cast of criminals are based on tropes of Victorian literature. There’s a tribal midget with a blowpipe, a giant strongman, conjoined twins, and a well-to-do gentleman who’d pass fine in polite society if it weren’t for his charred skin. It’s surprising how little they appear across the first (and currently only) collection’s pages, but Edginton does a good job of making them seem as though they mean something by giving us reasons to empathise with them.

Opposing Stickleback and his crew are Detective Valetine Bey and Sergeant Leonard Chips. Their status as law enforcers means we’re expected to view them as villains, being that the protagonists are criminals and all. They’re enjoyable enough characters, although for the first part of the collection it feels as though they’re a little too prominent.

The book follows the criminals’ misadventures in and around London, covering other elements of Victoriana. Far eastern mummies, clanking robo-men and Lovecraftian horrors (perhaps they’re a little later than the Victorian Age but they feel like they belong) all crop up to interact with gang. Action is the order of the day.

Truth be told the stories, while well-constructed and readable, aren’t going to blow your mind. Plot twists tend to feel a little underwhelming and it’s left to the imagery and artwork to hold the reader’s attention. D’Israeli’s art is wonderful to look at, suffused with plenty of detail but never seeming overly complex. His use of deep shadows and knack for conjuring up striking characters that appear only in a few panels marks him as a great talent. He’s definitely someone who deserves to be more highly thought of than he is. It’s a shame that his art style isn’t something mainstream comics are interested in using.

Stickleback is a quirky little title with a unique blend of ideas aided by fantastic artwork. It proves that 2000 AD still has access to writers and artists who can turn out something worthwhile that isn’t part of the company’s larger history. It also shows that the compilation book can still be relevant if given a chance. Perhaps Tharg should get around to releasing a second volume.