Graphic Novels Challenge: Samurai: Heaven and Earth, Vol. 2

Continuing the story of Shiro and Yoshiko begun in Volume 1, Samurai: Heaven and Earth's second collected volume follows the samurai pursuing Yoshiko from France to the Mahgreb and then across North Africa to Egypt after she is abducted - yet again - this time by a Spanish nobleman.

It's hard to escape the feeling that the whole purpose of this exercise is nothing more than an excuse to illustrate Yoshiko in a French gown and a harim girl's outfit, continuing the Japan-o-philia of the first volume, and indeed the artwork continues to be magnificent. I found myself struggling to remain interested - in the story, in the characters - particulaly while navigating the gaping plot holes. I mean, it's not like I was expecting With Fire and Sword here, but is it really asking too much for characters who are more than skillfully rendered cardboard cut-outs? I honestly had no stake in finding out if Shiro and Yoshiko would manage to be together in the end, and the last score of pages was a wearying plod to the end.

This seems to me like another lost opportunity. If Ron Marz was so desperate to tell the story of a samurai in Early Modern Europe, how 'bout using Hasekura Tsunenaga as a starting point, instead of this brutally contrived and ultimately unengaging attempt?

Graphic Novels Challenge: Samurai: Heaven and Earth, Vol. 1

As I've mentioned a number of times, my initial inspiration for running a swashbuckling campaign wasn't The Three Musketeers or Captain Blood - it was REH's "The Shadow of the Vulture," a short story set at the siege of Vienna in 1529. "TSofV" is perhaps best known as the first - and only - appearance of Red Sonya of Rogatino, a flame-haired swashbuckler who provided the inspiration for the Roy Thomas and Barry Smith's Red Sonja character in Marvel's Conan the Barbarian, but it's only one of REH's 'Oriental' historical fiction stories.

I've been an 'Orientalist' - in the traditional, pre-Edward Said sense of the word - since I was a boy, beginning with my fascination with the Arabian Nights tales, but I didn't discover REH's stories until about eight years ago, thanks to the Bison Books collection. That led me Harold Lamb's amazing Khlit the Cossack tales, which take place across with the breadth of Central Asia, in turn. So it should be no surprise that a graphic novel about a samurai at the court of Louis XIV was right in my wheelhouse.

Collected into graphic novel form in 2006, Samurai: Heaven and Hell is the story of Shiro, the eponymous samurai, and his love, Yoshiko, who's captured by Chinese invaders in 1704 and carried away, setting in motion a series of events which lead Shiro to the Sun King's court in pursuit of his love.

The artwork by Luke Ross and Jason Keith is beautifully rendered, but Ron Marz's story is flatter than a pancake. The journey from the Chinese warlord's palace to Louis' France may as well have involved teleportation, reduced to a couple of 'we need a MONTAGE!' pages of action. The nature of Shiro's quest means that character development is nearly nil - figures come and go, often dispatched at the end of Shiro's katana, without the reader knowing, or particularly caring, who they are. Things get only marginally better once the action shifts to France, where Shiro predictably battles the King's Musketeers, 'cause, y'know, one of the purposes of this whole exercise was clearly to show how a katana-swinging samurai is a match for any number of broadsword-wielding musketeers.

Yes, the story falls into the familiar and predictable trope of venerating the cult of the samurai and his katana. While not wallowing in excess - Shiro doesn't, say, cut a carriage in half or deflect bullets with his sword, thank goodness - it's still a depressing exercise in round-eye otaku.

Shiro's quest continues in volume 2 . . . to be continued . . .

Graphic Novels Challenge: Belladone

An assassin takes a shot at Louis XIV, but the ball is deflected by the iron fan of a nearby nun, who with a winsome smile leaps over the shoulders of a King's Musketeers to gain the balcony from which the assassin flees.

So opens Belladone, the creation of former Disney animator and comic artist Pierre Alary. Set in 1680 France, the story features a secret cabal of protectors of the Sun King, an Italian assassin, the Cour des Miracles, black maket 'Merchants of Death' dealing in poisons and other nastiness, and flirting between Marie, the disguised nun who is a member of the cabal, and Maxime, the captain of the King's Musketeers, who's been promised Marie's bed if he can defeat her in combat.

Ah, l'amour.

The story is simple, following the attempts of the Italian - no name is given, nor needed - on the life of Louis XIV, ostensibly for an affront to the Pope, and the efforts of Marie and Maxime - and Maxime's mother, who runs the secret cabal of guards of which Marie is a member - to protect the king. The action is beautifully illustrated, the story fast-paced and exciting, the characters engaging.

One of the amazing and wonderful aspects of the comic medium is that the stories transcend language. Belladone is written in French, but when I showed a few pages to my daughter and asked her to describe what was happening, the Cabin Girl could follow the action without recourse to the words. When she's a few years older, I look forward to sitting down with her and sharing the whole book together. Marie is a great example of a woman swashbuckler, as capable as the men without sacrificing her womanhood, and without being rendered as fanservice.

There are two more volumes of the Belladone saga, but because they are hardcover imports, they tend to be rather pricey, so I haven't - yet - picked up the sequels.

Graphic Novels Challenge: Marvel 1602

Whereas DC Comics has its Elsewhere books, Marvel Comics had its What If? series. Rather than creating an alternate world like the Elseworlds books, most of the What If? stories explored a diverging timeline beginning at a point in the mainstream Marvel continuity, producing such groundbreaking comics as What If Conan Walked the Earth Today? and What If the Original Marvel Bullpen Had Become the Fantastic Four? Most of the What If? titles are one-offs, with a few short arcs, but beyond the point of divergence, there is no lasting or meaningful connection to the Marvel Universe. They are speculative fantasies.

It would be easy to confuse 1602 with a What If? or even an Elseworlds title, but it's neither, really. It's a consequence arising from an event in the future continuity of the Marvel Universe, in which the heroes exist on Earth some four hundred or so years earlier. In the Earth of 1602, Queen Elizabeth charges two of her royal councillors, spymaster Sir Nicholas Fury and court physician Dr. Stephen Strange, to discern the meaning of disturbing (un)natural phenomena plaguing her realm.

Neil Gaiman does a fascinating job bringing these heroic alter-egos to life, far better than Chuck Dixon did in the Captain Leatherwing book; with a few exceptions, the characters feel real in their setting, perhaps because the setting allows the cruft of expectations built up around about these too-familiar heroes to be stripped away. They are reborn, and they are, for the most part, better for it. Nick Fury as the alternate Sir Francis Walsingham is brilliantly written, as is Matthew Murdoch as one of his agents, but my favorite character, both in 1602 and the Marvel Universe generally, is Dr. Strange. This is one of the very best Dr. Strange books I've read; the Sorcerer Supreme is singularly suited to both the period and Mr Gaiman's tale of supernatural intrigue.

And it is a tale of intrigue. There are only a handful of battles between heroes and villains in 1602. This is a story of an existential threat and the ramifications of it, and if the ending doesn't quite live up to the events which preceded it, it is satisfying nonetheless.

Andy Kubert and Richard Isanove's artwork is dark and claustrophobic and lush, and their depiction of the characters and the setting evocative and period-worthy, though I found the digital coloring to have a weird sort of soft-focus feel at times.

Graphic Novels Challenge: Detective Comics Annual No. 7

I read comics when I was a kid - Daredevil, Silver Surfer, and G.I. Combat, picked from the spinner at our local 7-11, purchased with change earned by scavenging empty soda bottles and turning them in for their deposits. Yes, I'm that old.

Roleplaying games actually supplanted my interest in comics - my comic book money went to buying lead minis instead, and I didn't really pay them much attention until I was working in a bookstore after high school and discovered Frank Miller's Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. It was, for me, a revelation, like I imagine it was for many people, and it piqued my interest in comics once again. It also spurred me to pick up TSR's Marvel Super Heroes roleplaying game, which I ran for the next few years.

The 'next big thing' in Batman graphic novels, after the success of TDKR, was Batman: Gotham by Gaslight, featuring the familiar characters in fin de siècle Gotham City chasing Jack the Ripper.

The success of Gotham by Gaslight spawned the Elseworlds stories - in fact, GbG would later be retconned as the 'first' Elseworlds title. The Elseworld titles offer the writers and artists a chance to play with canon characters in asynchronous settings and circumstances, like Superman raised in the Soviet Union instead of Heartland America, or Bruce Wayne as the Green Lantern.

This roundabout introduction brings me to Detective Comics Annual no. 7, an Elseworlds title featuring the Batman as a 17th century privateer named Captain Leatherwing, the English scourge of the Spanish Main. The comic also features other iconic characters including Alfredo, Leatherwing's mate, Robin Redblade, a street urchin who plays a Jim Hawkins-like role in the tale, and Capitana Felina, a Spanish noblewoman both entranced and repulsed by Leatherwing. My favorite character, however, is the Laughing Man - the Joker in late 17th-century court dress is the highlight of the book for me. Indeed, it's really the only depiction of the main characters in the book which I liked - the rest of the main character's costumes seemed far too on-the-nose, lacking any of the nuance or period feel which the best Elseworlds books feature - though the book does give penciler and inker Enrique Alcatena an excuse to show Selina in a bodice-hugging gown for several pages. Too-literal costumes aside, the rest of the artwork in the book is quite good.

Chuck Dixon's story itself is utterly pedestrian, bringing nothing new or exciting to any of the characters. It features none of the Batman's strengths - his deductive acumen, his 'wonderful toys' - which define the character for me. The whole thing seemed like a hugely missed opportunity.

This guy really loves it, though, so if the premise interests you, you may want to hunt around for some other opinions.

A sequel, "The Bride of Leatherwing," was published in Batman Chronicles no. 11.

Graphic Novels Challenge: El Cazador

Let me make something clear right now - I suck at writing reviews.

If you're looking for a discussion of the writers' and artists' body of work and where this fits into their oeuvre, you'll need to look elsewhere - all I'd be doing is parroting someone else's insights. If you're looking for details about the plot and the characters, then you'll be disappointed - I can't stand reviews full of spoilers. I'm not going to waste my time or yours on a lengthy publishing history.

Okay, still with me?

El Cazador is a rare jewel, a pirate comic book that doesn't involve the undead, witchcraft, or mystical relics. The tale is set in 1687, and when I say that, I mean deeply embedded. Snippets of French, Spanish, Italian and Dutch pepper the dialog, reflecting the polyglot pirate crews of Blackjack Tom, Redhand Harry, and Lady Sin, the Spanish noblewoman turned pirate and captain of the eponymous ship, El Cazador (The Hunter). The whole thing is awash in period detail, in both the art and the writing, yet it never loses sight of what it is, a classic high seas cape-and-sword romance. There's mutiny and marooning, fireships and duels, a example of, and a tribute to, the kind of pirate story one might find flowing from the pen of Rafael Sabatini nearly a century ago.

And on top of all that, the artwork is breathtaking. There are a dozen panels at least that I would gladly blow up to poster size, starting with the opening pages featuring a view from the sea floor of fish swimming amidst the wreckage and corpses of an capsized galleon floating above.

El Corazon, written by Chuck Dixon and penciled by Steve Epting, first appeared in 2003 and ran for six issues until the publisher, CrossGen, went belly up the next year, bringing the series, and Lady Sin's quest for revenge against Blackjack Tom, to an abrupt and unwelcome halt. The six issues were collected and published as a graphic novel by Hyperion Paperbacks in 2007, and if my copy is at all representative, they did a pretty crap job of it - my pages are near to falling out as the spine crackles and snaps every time I gently thumb through the book.

It's a real shame this story never found its way to completion - Lady Sin would appear in Sigil in 2011, after Marvel acquired GrossGen's rights, but in a new storyline - but there is a lot of solid inspiration for cape-and-sword campaigns found between the covers of El Cazador.

Resolved

My 2012 New Year's resolution was to start a blog about cape-and-sword roleplaying games.

Okay, that's done. Now, what's next?

Jedediah at Book Scorpion's Lair recounts participating in two reading 'challenges' this past year, the Graphic Novels Challenge and the Library Books Reading Challenge. The former looks like fun - I'd already been planning a post about cape-and-sword graphic novels anyway, so this expands on that and gives it a purpose.

I'm not gonna try to be a hero here: I'm shootin' for Level 1, with an option on Level 2, and I'm gonna stick with the Basic challenge, but try to hit a number of the Advanced categories as well.

Look for the first installment later this week.