Showing posts with label Stan Lee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stan Lee. Show all posts

Saturday, 29 May 2021

Not On The Shortlist 2021

Every year there are more worthy works than could fit on any Hugo Awards ballot. There will therefore
(Image via Goodreads)

always be works that are not included, no matter how great they may be. As our book club has done in previous years, some of us have selected the books, movies, and comic books they wish could have made this year's ballot.  

(KB) Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia 

Set in the 1950s Mexican countryside, college-age Noémi navigates a tense and horrific situation that holds her cousin captive.  

Evoking the same style of romantic gothic and speculative fiction horror in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Moreno-Garcia’s carefully crafted novel ratchets the tension and addresses settler-colonialism, environmental racism, and sexism. Using a unique mechanic to bring the eco-gothic setting into the fantasy and science fiction genre, the novel was full of surprises beyond just the plot. 

As a horror aficionado (and obviously a SFF fan), this book is an outstandingly creative entry for the speculative fiction subgenres. Moreno-Garcia, whose previous book Gods of Jade and Shadow earned her Nebula and Locus nominations, is an author to keep a closer eye on, and it’s a shame that Mexican Gothic didn’t make it onto Hugo readers’ radars.

(AW) Bridge 108 by Anne Charnock — Best Novel

Not sure how this thoughtful, socially speculative and dystopian novel didn’t make it on the ballot. Anne Charnock gives us interesting and relatable characters that must move forward, both literally and figuratively, to survive in a world struggling with deep social and economic divisions.

Caleb and other point of view characters provide distinct interpretations of the same reality, revealing layers of social conditioning to the reader. But you don't need to care about social relations and labour issues to enjoy this book (even if you should). Despite backstories of despair, each character’s choices reveal an inherent and universal drive to survive without doing harm.

This is near-future climate change fiction at its best — gently disclosing the impact of current conditions and choices through sympathetic experiences and hope.

(MB) Repo Virtual by Corey J. White — Best Novel

Repo Virtual is a really great response to anyone that suggests cyberpunk is a finished genre. It takes aim at the giant internet companies dominating the world today and at the precarious labour that allows the world to function.

It’s a great little heist story that has hackers, a predatory pseudo-intellectual cult leader, a massive multiplayer online game all set in a frighteningly realistic near-future smart city.

The story is a smart critique of the world and the trajectory we’re on and White absolutely deserves an

award.

(OR) Jack Kirby: The Epic Life Of The King Of Comics by Tom Scioli — Best Related Work

One of the most visually distinctive artists of the golden age of comics, Jack Kirby helped create a plethora of characters who have gone on to be household names: Iron Man, Captain America, Black Panther, Nick Fury, and The Fantastic Four just to name a few. Elements of his art style echo throughout the Marvel Cinematic Universe. His contributions were often however overshadowed in the popular imagination by his more charismatic colleague Stan Lee. So a volume like “The Epic Life of The King of Comics” provides a welcome insight into who Kirby was, what influenced his genuinely progressive vision for comic books, and what his legacy might be. 

Told as a linear chronological narrative, The Epic Life Of the King Of Comics follows Kirby’s service in World War 2, his confrontations and altercations with home-grown American racists, his ascent to the top of his profession, and his fight to claim ownership of his work. It is a story worth reading and understanding for fans of comics, fans of creator’s rights, and fans of the genre in general.  

Rather than telling this story through a conventional biography, Tom Scioli offers us a beautifully drawn comic book in which the art carefully offers connotations of Kirby’s style. This artwork is notable for how Scioli helps us see Kirby the way that Kirby saw the world, though he avoids slavishly aping the master’s style. 

This is truly one of the great works of comic book history. 
(Image via Goodreads) 

(CF) The Unspoken Name by AK Larkwood

This fantasy novel follows the life of Csorwe from dedicated death god mouthpiece and sacrifice to assassin and spy and beyond.

Inspired by Le Guin’s Tombs of Atuan, AK Larkwood’s debut novel The Unspoken Name follows a young orcish death cultist for whom a vast new world becomes possible when she is saved from being a ritual sacrifice. Set on a quest for an artifact of incalculable power, she learns the world is more nuanced and complicated than she had been raised to believe.

Despite this being a debut novel, which earned Larkwood a spot on the ballot for the Astounding Award, this book has better balance of complex worldbuilding with character development than works by far more established authors. While some might complain that the plot isn’t particularly tight, that gives the characters more space to breathe and to grow.

One of the many facets of the book that made it stand out is how Larkwood engages with and subverts the prejudices baked into standard fantasy tropes. Orcs may have a different culture that doesn’t align with that of the dominant (white) majority, but in this narrative it is made clear that they are just as human.


Another facet that adds brilliance to this little gem are the positive queer representation. Both Csorwe and her friend were queer but it was just part of their characters and not used as tokenism for the plot. And in the wider world, there was no institutionalized homophobia.

It is great to see AK Larkwood on the ballot for the Astounding Award, but all the same I would have liked to have seen The Unspoken Name shortlisted for best novel.

Monday, 12 April 2021

The Lies That Bind

The story of Stan Lee is a quintessential American tragedy. It is the story of a man whose reach would
Beloved comic book icon Stan Lee
is a figure worthy of serious critical
study. Abraham Riesman's new biography
grapples with his oversized myth. 
(Image via People)

always exceed his grasp, and of someone who would sacrifice the truth, his friends, and eventually himself in a vainglorious pursuit of goals that could never bring happiness.

True Believer: The Rise And Fall Of Stan Lee by Abraham Riesman grapples with Lee’s oversized cultural profile, and with the legacy of one of the most divisive figures in comic book fandom.

Many parts of Stan Lee’s story have been told over the years in interviews, feature articles, and autobiographies. However, these accounts are contradictory and informed by Lee’s incessant and self-serving dishonesty. They were also often written either by journalists who lacked the depth of comic book knowledge to ask the difficult questions, or by comic book fans who lacked the journalistic discipline to parse myth from fact. Mainstream media was — and still mostly is — incurious about how comics are made and who was responsible for what, so often settled for the story told with the most charisma. If anything, Lee was charismatic.

True Believer is therefore a much-needed attempt to provide as complete and accurate a picture as possible of this iconic figure. New Yorker Magazine and Vulture Magazine culture critic Riesman brings both journalistic credibility and a depth of knowledge about comic book history to this biography.

The caveat “as accurate a picture as possible” is key to understanding why this biography is so satisfying. Riesman recognizes that Lee’s incessant lies — and the myth-making empire he built around himself — present significant obstacles when writing about him. When necessary, Riesman relays multiple accounts of the same events, and offers the reader his reasoning as to which might be the most factual. She writes, any account of Lee’s life is “where objective truth goes to die.”

So what is certain? The son of Romanian Jewish immigrants, Stan Lee was born in Manhattan in 1922, as Stanley Martin Lieber. Hired by his uncle at the age of 17, he began working at a comic book company called Timely and rose through the ranks rapidly. It is certain that he receives credit for helping create numerous famous comic book characters such as Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, Daredevil, the Silver Surfer, Iron Man, the Hulk, the Black Panther, and many more.
Lee loved the limelight, a trait that often led him
to minimize the contributions of others. 
(Image via Times Of Israel) 


It is also clear that Lee was a gregarious and friendly person who managed to recruit and attract significant talent to the comic book industry. He wrote dialogue that was more engaging than most of his 1960s contemporaries, and had some hand in building a pop cultural phenomenon. It is also clear that Lee was capable of significant kindness.

But since the 1990s, there has been escalating controversy about how much of the creative process was Stan Lee’s, and how much belonged to the artists with whom he collaborated. Many of his most famous colleagues — and even his own brother Larry Lieber — suggest that Lee’s contributions were minimal. Riesman doesn’t offer a definitive verdict, but the documentary evidence he provides does not always paint a flattering picture of Lee.

The research put into True Believer cannot be overstated; Riesman interviewed almost every relevant figure, including Lee in his final years. She has combed source documents, old fanzines, lawsuit filings, and correspondence, and shows the ways in which Lee’s claims would change over time, contradicting himself. Lee lied about things even when there was no penalty for telling the truth, and he lied about things which could be fact-checked.

Our most significant quibbles with True Believer have more to do with what is omitted from the story,
Miscommunication over which
character was talking in a panel 
of Spider-Man #36 led Lee to
order artist Sol Brodsky to edit
Steve Ditko's artwork. Ditko
left Marvel comics two months
later, never to work with Lee again.
(Image via Marvel.Fandom.Wikia)

rather than what is included. The haphazard creation of the Avengers #1 (which Lee threw together to fill a publishing window after artist Bill Everett missed his deadlines on Daredevil) reveals aspects of Lee's talents and foibles. Steve Ditko's epic fight with Lee over Spider-Man #36 (where Lee had another artist edit Ditko's illustration of The Looter) illustrates the flaws with Lee's "Marvel Method" of comic book collaboration. The omission of these vignettes seems curious. But in any biographical work, the author must make difficult choices about what to include.  

Because most of Lee’s memorable accomplishments occurred in the 1960s and 1970s, his last three decades of life have mostly been glossed over by biographers. Riesman’s book both fills this gap and provides context to help better understand Lee’s commercial success. If the truth can set you free, then the life of Stan Lee is a parable about how lies can entrap us. Over his last three decades, his tenuous relationship with reality eroded his ability to maintain meaningful friendships. As the book progresses, it becomes clear that Lee ended up surrounded by deceivers like himself, and trapped in a cage of his own making.

Abraham Riesman’s book becomes a cautionary tale about the seductive, destructive power of lies. For those who have been gaslit, or who have lived with a pathological liar, the experience of reading this book might be triggering.

It's often been observed that at the time of his death, Lee was in litigation with most of his friends and family while estranged from the rest.

The negative reviews of True Believer posted to Amazon and GoodReads can be seen as a testament to Lee’s prowess at self-mythologizing. Some of the reviewers seem never to have read the book at all, while others take umbrage at the suggestion that Lee’s involvement in the creation of certain characters was anything other than absolute. Fandom has been overly deferential to Lee in life and death, finding it inconvenient to talk about what artists like Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, and Wally Wood endured.

There is a long tradition of fandom idolizing a certain variety of PT Barnum-style self-promoter. This tradition has come under much-needed scrutiny in the past decade thanks to works such as Astounding by Alec Nevala-Lee and The Pleasant Profession of Robert A. Heinlein by Farrah Mendelsohn. Abraham Riesman’s True Believer is a welcome addition to this critical reckoning.  

In Riesman’s telling, Lee is not a figure worthy of contempt. He’s a figure worthy of pity. Somehow, that’s worse.