03 September 2018

Reading Roundup Wrapup: August 2018

Pick of the month: The Will to Battle by Ada Palmer. Even when I don't quite get it, Professor Palmer's Terra Ignota is compellingly readable. It's definitely not so much a series and much more one long novel in four long parts, so I look forward to seeing how it all winds down with the last installment in 2019.

All books read:
1. Star Trek: Discovery: Fear Itself by James Swallow
2. Transformers: Salvation by John Barber
3. Legion of Super-Heroes Archives, Volume 7 by Jim Shooter
4. Transformers: Till All Are One, Volume Three by Mairghread Scott
5. Terra Ignota, Book III: The Will to Battle: A Narrative of Events of the year 2454 by Ada Palmer
6. The Butcher of Anderson Station: A Story of The Expanse by James S.A. Corey
7. Bernice Summerfield XII: The Vampire Curse by Mags L Halliday, Kelly Hale and Philip Purser-Hallard
8. The Transformers: Monstrosity by Chris Metzen and Flint Dille
9. The Transformers: Primacy by Chris Metzen and Flint Dille
10. Caliban’s War: Book Two of The Expanse by James S.A. Corey
11. Record of a Spaceborn Few by Becky Chambers
12. Exploring Calvin and Hobbes: An Exhibition Catalogue by Bill Watterson
13. The Forever Machine by Mark Clifton & Frank Riley

All books acquired:
1. The Forever Machine by Mark Clifton & Frank Riley
2. Legend of the Galactic Heroes, Volume 7: Tempest by Yoshidi Tanaka
3. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens

Books remaining on "To be read" list: 658 (down 1)
Books remaining on "To review" list: 15 (up 3)

It turns out that watching a newborn is nice for reading, but hard for reviewing. It's easier to read with a sleeping baby on your lap than it is to blog. (Though I am writing this with a sleeping baby on my lap!)

In other news: I have a reviews of Big Finish's most recent Paul McGann epic, The Eighth Doctor: The Time War 2, and of the series 10 Bernice Summerfield finale, Secret Origins, up at Unreality SF.

31 August 2018

Birth-Story

Our son was due in mid-August, so for the last weekend of July (pushing it, I know), we'd planned a party to encompass our birthdays (both in late summer), our impending baby, and a belated housewarming. The day before we spent doing various things needed to get ready, cleaning and organizing our unclean and disorganized house. (Moving in takes a long time.) That evening, Hayley reported a fluid coming out of her... at first we weren't sure what it was, but it soon became obvious her water had broken, and she called the midwife.

We met her at the birthing center in about an hour. The issue is that she wasn't having contractions yet, and the longer you go with a ruptured membrane, the higher the risk of infection. So we had to see if we could help the body and the baby along. It was almost anticlimactic, I think, to realize that within a day, the baby would be there or at least coming. Like, that's it? It's happening? The midwife gave us some tasks to perform-- we needed to adjust the baby's position slightly if we could, and we needed a laxative-- and we had some tasks of our own to perform-- we had never finished putting together the "go bag" of materials to bring to the birthing center!

The natural way to induce a birth, it turns out, is laxatives. Your colon and your uterus are next to each other. Giving birth can cause you to poop, but pooping can also cause you to give birth. So we bought some castor oil and some ice cream, and I made what I assume was not a very good milkshake.

The awkward thing is that Hayley had tested as Group B strep positive, which meant she needed to take regular antibiotics once labor started. So every four hours we had to go back to the birthing center for an injection, and our first trip there had been around 6pm! Thank goodness we live only 10-15 minutes away; there was a couple in our birthing class who lived about an hour away. I was able to get some sleep a few hours at a time that night, but Hayley didn't sleep at all.

The castor oil did work. Overnight, while I mostly slept, contractions developed and intensified. Hayley was sort of on the cusp of active labor when we checked into the birthing center around 6am Saturday morning. I'm not sure if we technically qualified, but I think the midwife was starting to feel bad for us. The birthing center has a couple bedrooms where you can give birth, complete with shower, tub, and toilet. We spent a lot of time experimenting with various ways of helping labor intensify, including using a breast pump and walking around a lot.

My mother got there that day; I'd called her the previous night because my wife had asked her to be there for the birth if possible.* We also had a doula in training. Hayley had actually made arrangements with a different one who turned out to be out of town that weekend, and another one agreed to fill in for her. I spent a lot of time recording contractions on an app on my phone, but it soon apparent that the contractions were petering out, becoming less and less intense, and more and more infrequent.

So around 3pm, the decision was made to transfer Hayley to the midwife practice at Tampa General. One thing the birthing center required was that you bring a high-protein meal to eat after birth, so when we'd arrived at the birthing center, I'd thrown the ingredients for chicken and rice in a crockpot. We chowed down on this, and then headed out.

Things never move quickly in hospitals. They move agonizingly anti-quickly at times. We sat there for ages waiting to see the hospital midwife, but finally we were admitted, and Hayley was given pitocin to help induce labor at around 6pm. By 9pm she was experiencing mild contractions, and we were doing laps around the floor. By 11pm, they were getting regular.

Hayley and I were up all night, as was the doula; my mom was the one who actually got some sleep. I think I had ten cups of coffee across twenty-four hours. The contractions kept getting stronger and stronger, and Hayley rapidly began to feel like she couldn't go on. She was checked around 2am, and told she was only dilated to about 5 cm, and she was just in a complete state of despair. She'd been in labor for about twenty-four hours, and active labor about three, and she was barely halfway there!

The doula was awesome. I'm not a very encouraging person by nature (!), so she was really great for keeping Hayley going, often asking her to just do a few more contractions in a new position, giving Hayley a concrete, short-term goal when she felt like she couldn't go on. Most of the time, Hayley labored on her hands and knees in the hospital bed. I don't think it was comfortable, so much as the least uncomfortable position. Hayley told me later that if it wasn't for the doula, she probably would have given in and asked for an epidural, but she managed to hold off, and got through the entire process without one. Mostly I just timed the contractions and got her whatever she needed. (The nurse was impressed by our meticulous hours-long log of contractions.)

I actually found the whole Tampa General Labor and Delivery experience really great. We had easy access to food when either Hayley or the rest of us got hungry, including a coffee machine, and the night nurse was incredibly attentive and helpful, one of the best nurses I've ever encountered. Alas, it was her last day of work!

Things got tough, though, when around 5am Hayley started to feel like she wanted to push, but she was not yet dilated enough to allow it. The doula kept telling her to breathe through it, but this was clearly not easy, especially as the longer it went on, the more she wanted it to be over with.

It was around 7am when she was finally told she was allowed to start bearing down. I was surprised with how emotional I was at this moment. Hayley had been working so hard for so long, and she had done it. She was ready to have the baby. Relief washed over both of us. It had gone on forever, but it wasn't forever, and now the end was in sight. I was so proud of her. Birth is clearly hard work, the hardest she'd ever done, and she did it.

I was certain I did not want to catch the baby, but I did stay behind Hayley (still on her hands and knees) with the midwives as she delivered the baby. I wanted to get a peek of that head with its red hair coming out. The midwife kept using a flashlight on her phone to get a better look, and eventually asked me to hold it. Then her phone started acting up, so I substituted my own. That was my big contribution to the birthing process as our son was finally delivered at 8:18am Sunday morning, the culmination of thirty-one hours of labor.

* * *


A friend asked me what the biggest change being a father was. At this point, my son had only been alive less than a week. I know that my life will be reshaped in many concrete ways, large and small, but most of these haven't really set in yet. As I write this, I'm still between semesters, my wife is on parental leave, and we've had and continue to have a bevy of family here supporting us, which means that many of the practical considerations of child-rearing have not yet manifested. We'll see what I think when Hayley's mother is gone and we're both back to work!

So so far, in a sense, not much. But in another sense, it's been really jarring. I was once not a father and now I am a father, two totally different things. The only comparable experience I have is being in romantic relationships, but that's gradual. Like, it's weird being a husband, but you don't go from being single to being a husband. You're single, then you're a boyfriend, then you're a fiancé, and then finally you're a husband. So things scale up gradually. But with fatherhood, one minute you're not a father and the next minute you're a father. And you have a son! What's going on? How did this happen? Who am I? I don't know when I will finally process this; it's still ongoing. I'm a person now I wasn't last month.

* * *



Things moved very quickly once he was out, all blue-skinned and cone-headed. They immediately put him on Hayley's chest for skin-to-skin, but they were also reaching inside her trying to get the placenta out, which made Hayley incredibly uncomfortable. It wasn't clear to her or us why they were rushing this so much, and Hayley kept asking them to please explain what they were doing before they did something. It quickly became apparent that Hayley had torn, she had a fourth-degree laceration and needed to be sewn up and fast.

The baby was transferred to me so that I could do skin-to-skin. Thankfully one of the nurses saw how uncomfortable I looked (I had held precisely zero newborns in my time) and was able to talk me through a good way to hold him. He peed on me as I sat there while an army of medical professionals handled the surgery. There was a lot of blood on the floor of that hospital room by the time it was done, but everything happened so quickly I didn't have the wherewithal to be frightened.

The rest of the day was a little tricky. Hayley had lost a lot of blood, though they decided not so much that she needed a transfusion, and was high on adrenaline, and she shivered fiercely despite being covered in blankets and the heat being cranked up all the way. By about dinnertime, though, we were finally transferred out of labor and delivery, into the postpartum wing, and we were beginning to experience parenthood.

* * *


Like I said, I still don't quite know what to make of parenthood. I never know what to make of anything all at once, so I suspect it will take a lot of time and reflection for me to be able to say anything meaningful.

I do know, though, that birth seems to be an incredible process, unlike anything else. H. G. Wells (yes, I can always bring it back to H. G. Wells) believed that women ought to be compensated for being mothers by the state, because it was the one disparity between the sexes that could never be rectified. Watching Hayley go through all this, it was hard for me to disagree, but I'm in position to pay her with anything other than love and admiration, and by being the best husband and father I can.

* An early version of this post claimed it was my mother's idea to be there; she corrected me, "Actually, until it happened, I wasn't sure that I did want to be there."

30 August 2018

Review: Believing Is Seeing by Errol Morris

Trade paperback, 310 pages
Published 2014 (originally 2011)
Borrowed from the library
Read June 2018
Believing Is Seeing (Observations on the Mysteries of Photography)
by Errol Morris

Morris's book is pretty easily explained by the title: we see things because we want to believe them. He explores this concept through a few different case studies: Roger Fenton's "Valley of the Shadow of Death" photographs from the Crimean War, Sabrina Harman's photographs of the Abu Ghraib prison abuses, Dust Bowl photojournalism from the 1930s, combat zone photography from Palestine, and the case of Amos Humiston's Civil War photographs. The book is okay, but it is not 300-pages okay. Morris has some insights, but they are often buried in minutiae; his processes of uncovering the truth behind Fenton, for example, goes through more tedious detail than is needed to arrive at his point that every photograph is posed.

This is, of course, a point John Berger made on (I believe) the third page of Ways of Seeing back in the 1970s. Morris writes like someone who believes himself charting new territory, even though he must know better, as he cites people like Susan Sontag and talks to a lot of experts in photography. (It's these conversation that pad out the book.) The story of Fenton, an injustly-maligned man, is the book's best part, but it didn't need to be seventy pages to make its point. The chapter on Sabrina Harman, on the other hand, is pithy and focused and interesting. This book could have been a couple focused essays (and I think it was at some point? I believe these all started as New York Times columns), but instead they're stretched out in order to yield mostly banal insights. It feels mean to say it, but I suspect the book is best used as a source of anecdotes, rather than something you should actually read yourself. I'll happily tell you the Roger Fenton story in about five minutes myself.

29 August 2018

Hugos 2018: Summer in Orcus by Ursula Vernon

Trade paperback, 261 pages
Published 2017 (originally 2016)

Acquired May 2018
Read June 2018
Summer in Orcus by T. Kingfisher

Summer in Orcus was technically a finalist for the Lodestar Award for Best Young Adult Book, but I'm not sure it's YA per se, for two reasons. One, the protagonist Summer is 11, which skews a bit more middle-grade, and two, T. Kingfisher (a.k.a. Ursula Vernon) actually wrote the story for an adult audience, namely herself and her Patreon backers.

But anyway, it's the story of Summer, who's sent into a fantasy world called Orcus by Baba Yaga and ends up going on a quest, meeting a number of distinct and vivid characters on the way. I grew up reading portal-quest fantasy, and I love the stuff. This isn't quite my flavor: Orcus feels more like a mythology and less like a place, if that makes any sense. Like, I like those fantasy lands where one draws maps of kingdoms and continents, like Oz and Middle-earth, or at least could do so, like Narnia. Orcus is more a collection of mythologies, which I don't like quite as much.

Still, that's picking too much at something that's basically a whim of preference. I really enjoyed this. Summer is a good protagonist, the daughter of a single mother who sometimes feels oppressed by her mother who ends up travelling to another world and meeting a variety of travelling companions, including a werehouse (a wolf that transforms into a house) and, my favorite, Reginald, a bird who is a bit of a fop; if you imagine him being voiced by Hugh Laurie in his Wooster mode, it works perfectly.

The book is filled with a lot of charm, a lot of clever concepts, some metafiction, and a lot of jokes. I really liked how things resolved. Summer, like a lot of child portal-quest protagonists, succeeds through being nice and attentive (I'm thinking of Baum's characters here), and I enjoyed her attempts to decode what her role in events was, and respond to the needs of those around her without being duped. Like I said, I liked Reginald, and I also enjoyed the entire visit to his family's estate and the associated civilization. Kingfisher does some nice extrapolation: Baba Yaga's walking house becomes the basis for a land filled with walking houses, where houses you have to build yourself are inferior. The villains are well-drawn and interesting and have relatable motives. Summer herself has read Narnia, and those books are occasionally invoked as she tries to work out what's going on, and often the narrator will deliberately subvert your expectations of the genre. And as things like "werehouse" indicate, there's a good line in puns (one of the things the narrator makes fun of, actually), but there's also some gentle character humor in the way the members of Summer's weird little group interacts.

The end promises a sequel; I would definitely read it if it was written, and I think the deepening of the land by coming back years later would even rectify my primary objection.

28 August 2018

Review: Transformers: Salvation by John Barber and Livio Ramondelli

Comic PDF eBook, n.pag.
Published 2017
Acquired and read August 2018
Transformers: Salvation

Written by John Barber
Art by Livio Ramondelli
Letters by Tom B. Long

I have basically given up on John Barber's Transformers, but given I'd read the first two installments of the "Redemption of the Dinobots" trilogy, and given each is only forty pages long, it seemed worthwhile to finish it off.

This was a very predictable page-turn moment.

Well, maybe it was or maybe it wasn't. I like the idea of the Dinobots, bred for war, trying to find their place in a postwar universe, and I like the idea of them finding that in defending Cybertron's first field of new sparks. But the actually story here is disjointed and confusing, and like too many Transformers tales from the late IDW period, revolves around an ancient evil coming back to haunt the present. Like, the emotional meat of the story is not that! Give me the Dinobots! Instead, they feel lost on the edges of a story that's got too much going on for its page length.

Next Week: Meanwhile, also on Cybertron... Starscream finds himself swept up into an unexpected belief that he's waiting until Till All Are One!

27 August 2018

Review: Hawkworld by Timothy Truman and Enriqué Alcatena

The usual notice: my review of Bernice Summerfield: Venus Mantrap, where Benny's pants play a key role in an unfolding nuclear crisis, is up now at Unreality SF.

Comic trade paperback, n. pag.
Published 2004 (contents: 1989)

Acquired and read May 2018
Hawkworld

Written and Pencilled by Timothy Truman
Inked by EnriquĂ© Alcatena 
Colored by Sam Parsons
Lettered by Tim Harkins


Hawkworld is definitely of its time. Like Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters (1987), Black Orchid (1989), Adam Strange: The Man of Two Worlds (1990), Twilight (1990-91), and probably others I don't know about, Hawkworld was a miniseries of three double-length issues that dusted off a slightly moribund character (or characters) for a new era, by going darker and more intense. All of these series except Man of Two Worlds resulted in follow-ups, if not ongoings, so clearly something about this formula worked.

Hawkworld is a little different from the formula, though. Longbow Hunters, Black Orchid, and Man of Two Worlds all acknowledge the history of their characters, even as they tweak it-- they're more what we might call re-origin stories, crucibles that take pre-existing characters and give them a new set-up for ongoing adventures. Hawkworld, however, presents a new origin for Katar "Hawkman" Hol. In fact, strictly speaking, there's no superheroics in this book at all, as Hol adopts no secret identity; the book is entirely set on his homeworld of Thanagar.

Make Thanagar Great Again.
from Hawkworld vol. 1 #1

I don't know much about Hawkman, to be honest, but this is the most intrigued I've ever been by him, and I found the depiction of Thanagar much more interested than what was seen in some of the 2000s space comics I've read. Thanagar is the capital of an interstellar empire, but one where cultural rot has set in. It's a morally complex set-up: our protagonist is the one who's afraid of outside cultural influences! The Thanagarian elite no longer produce anything worthwhile themselves, but depend on other worlds for their food, music, and entertainment, especially mind-altering drugs. They also import slave labor, but when the laborers have served their purpose, they get dumped onto the surface, the "Downside" away from the towers where the elite fly. Katar is a Thanagarian police officer, the son of Thanagar's foremost scientist, who asks for a job patrolling the Downside even though he could have had a cushy desk position. Unlike others, Katar cares about the history of his people-- a consistent mark of the story are monuments to Thanagar's past that only Katar cares about.

Well at least someone is.
from Hawkworld vol. 1 #2

As you might imagine, Katar discovers more and more about the rot of his civilization, even as he rots himself, tempted into taking alien drugs by the attractive Shayera, the intriguing daughter of one of his father's friends. The story itself is pretty standard stuff, to be honest, but writer and penciller Timothy Truman elevates it by telling it well, with lots of details of writing and art alike. We actually don't know a whole lot about Thanagar beyond the broad strokes, but it feels like a fully lived in, real world. My only real objection is that Katar's principal opponent, Byth, seems a little conveniently too responsible for all the evils of an entire decadent civilization. Though one of the things I did like is the extent to which Katar himself is shown to be culpable, and how he spends a long time coming to terms with that culpability and making restitution for it. Until he's forced to fight again, Katar doesn't want to take down the government or anything; he wants to supply medicine and food to the inhabitants of the Downside.

I don't think she uses that nickname in the Hawkworld ongoing, but she sure comes up with her fair share of other ones.
from Hawkworld vol. 1 #3

The story ends with a set-up for new adventures; Katar and Shayera learn Byth has escaped to "some small green planet far beyond the borders of the empire." It also ends with Katar attempted to improve the plight of the Downside by working the society from the inside. All of this was followed up on in the Hawkworld ongoing; I've read the first issue thus far, and I look forward to seeing how the world introduced here is developed, though I'm disappointed that Katar heads off to Earth in issue #1, as I'd like to see more of this Thanagar. I know Hawkworld is notorious for its continuity issues, but as a story on its own merits, it's a solid re-imagining of a character I didn't care about, and I can see why a follow-up was commissioned.

24 August 2018

Review: Transformers: Lost Light: The Plotters' Club by James Roberts, Jack Lawrence, Priscilla Tramontano, et al.

Issues #8-12 of Transformers: Lost Light (which roughly correspond to volume 2 of the collected editions) contain two stories, both kind of side stories but clearly also contributing to the long game of this comic book: a two-parter without an overarching title and a three-parter with two different ones.

"An Axe to Break the Ice" and "Chasing the Infinite" is about Nautica and Velocity going to a market planet, ostensibly for information, but actually because Nautica wants to bring Skids back to life; they're accompanied by new characters Anode and Lug, who get into hijinks of their own, before it all comes together. I wanted to like this more than I did. The problem is that the Nautica/Skids friendship and/or romance was never really at the forefront of More than Meets the Eye, so the depth of Nautica's grief never quite comes off. What does work, though, is the Nautica/Velocity friendship, which has been a strongly consistent element of these characters since they were introduced back in Dark Cybertron. The bigger plot elements here a little confusing, but I assume they'll become clear in time and/or the Transformers wiki will explain them to me.

The Plotters' Club takes us back to the Lost Light for the first time since Getaway stole it from Rodimus at the beginning of volume 10 of More than Meets the Eye; First Aid and the "Protectobots," who left the ship during Combiner Wars, finally make it back, only to discover there's been a change in management since they left. At first, things seem pretty chill-- under Getaway's leadership, the Lost Light is actually making progress-- but the longer they stay on board, the more suspicious things turn out...

This is another strong installment of MtMtE/Lost Light, undermined only by the fact that it focuses on some of the lesser characters, and I still find it difficult to distinguish unfamiliar robots from each other even after three years of reading Transformers comics. Like, when Ambulon came back, I wouldn't have known who he was without the TFWiki. But this is one of those James Roberts stories that blends interesting concepts, crazy antics, and chilling darkness into a coherent whole. The descent of Getaway into madness is fascinating, and I like seeing First Aid-- a guy I'd never given much thought to-- start to stand up to him. There are a lot of callbacks to earlier issues (Froid and Star Saber both return), and by and large they tend to work. It's another dozen-or-so issues before this series comes to an end, but things are clearly accelerating into the endgame at this point.

Also there are some good Thunderclash jokes, which I always appreciate.

Next Tuesday: Meanwhile, on Cybertron... the Dinobots are once again searching, this time for Salvation!

"An Axe to Break the Ice" and "Chasing the Infinite" originally appeared in issues #8-9 of Transformers: Lost Light (July-Aug. 2017). The story was written by James Roberts, illustrated by Priscilla Tramontano, colored by Joana Lafuente, lettered by Tom B. Long, and edited by Carlos Guzman.

The Plotters' Club (also known as The Mutineers Trilogy) originally appeared in issues #10-12 of Transformers: Lost Light (Sept.-Nov. 2017). The story was written by James Roberts; illustrated by Jack Lawrence (#10-12), Alex Milne (#11), and Andrew Griffith (#12); colored by Joana Lafuente (#10-12), Priscilla Tramontano (#11-12), and John-Paul Bove (#12); lettered by Tom B. Long; and edited by Carlos Guzman.

23 August 2018

Review: St. Bernard's: The Romance of a Medical Student by Edward Berdoe

Kindle eBook, 286 pages
Published 2014 (originally 1887)
Read December 2017
St. Bernard's: The Romance of a Medical Student
by Æsculapius Scalpel
To analyse a rose is a poor way of learning the sweetness of its perfume; to master the language of a country is of the first necessity to knowing anything about its people. (176-77)
Published under the unlikely pseudonym of "Æsculapius Scalpel," Edward Berdoe's "romance" is a critique of scientific medical education of the late nineteenth century. It's funny in part, but Berdoe is not a very good writer: it supposedly has a main character, but he disappears for chapters at a time in favor of long rants about the evils of scientific medicine. The book is replete with what we might now call "perverse incentives": the nature of teaching hospitals mean that the longer a disease lingers, the more people can study it; they mean that the more untested a treatment, the more someone's name can be made by applying it. So going to one is possibly worse than not going to one, because someone's liable to do an amputation you don't need just so they can get an article out of it.

The book is funny at times-- I read several passages aloud to my long-suffering wife-- but very earnest at others, which is harder to take. And I couldn't help feeling it would have been funnier and horrifying if we'd seen the protagonist actually witness/experience the evils of scientific medicine the narrator goes on about, instead of having the narrator describe them in general terms.

There's even a couple women with scientific interests. The narrator says of them, "If a young woman wants to shield herself from the arrows of Cupid, there is no better defence for her than a wall of books, a science or two, some ologies, and a taste for writing. Behind these bulwarks her pretty face, her figure, her youth, her grace, and her accomplishments are comparatively safe" (233). I haven't quite decided if I would count them as scientists, though; to use Richard Kargon's distinctions, they remind me more of the early nineteenth-century intellectual dilettantes for whom science is one of many interests than the "scientific devotees" of the mid-century, or the late-century professionals-- whom the entire novel rails against.

You might guess that Berdoe was anti-vivisection, but like Wilkie Collins's Heart and Science, the novel treats vivisection not as an anomalous result of the scientific mindset, but as a particularly pernicious instance of it: "What was pain (in other people), if science could be advanced? What was suffering (in patients), if anything could be added to the sum of our knowledge as to the causes of their suffering? To cure the disease, to cut short the malady—ah, no, too often that was to extinguish alike the discomfort and the interesting course of phenomena that accompanied it" (53). Vivisection is mentioned only a few times, but passages like this one describing the self-serving scientific mindset fill the novel. Dull, but interesting (if you have my interests).

22 August 2018

Hugos 2018: Paper Girls 3 by Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang

Comic trade paperback, 125 pages
Published 2017 (contents: 2017)
Acquired October 2017 

Read June 2018
Paper Girls 3

Writer: Brian K. Vaughan
Artist: Cliff Chiang
Colors: Matt Wilson
Letters: Jared K. Fletcher

The third volume of Paper Girls is the best yet, as Vaughan and Chiang continue to deepen these characters and broaden the scope-- yet also this one feels more focused, and as though it tells a discrete story of its own. Clearly each volume of Paper Girls will place the paper girls in a different time period; in this one they materialize in the Pleistocene, and 1) must hunt down a time machine, 2) encounter a cave woman and her child, 3) encounter a future woman born in 2016, 4) discover still more time portals and the strange objects that have come through them, 5) see the future, and 6) deal with the complicated feelings of, um, blossoming womanhood. While volume 2 focused on Erin, volume 3 places more emphasis on KJ.

It's great work. The characters feel more real with each passing chapter, and Vaughan and Chiang do some neat stuff with the comics form. Loved how the vision of the future was rendered, loved the two-page spread when KJ is on the run from the cavemen. A good combination of art, character, and story in each case. This book is strong, and it promises more strength to come. The Hugos forced me to catch up to volume 3 of Paper Girls, and I look forward to reading volumes 4 and 5 soon.

21 August 2018

Review: Transformers: Till All Are One, Volume Two by Mairghread Scott, Sara Pitre-Durocher, et al.

I've got another review over at USF: Professor Bernice Summerfield experiences Absence! Daniel O'Mahony is a treasure.

Comic PDF eBook, 114 pages
Published 2017 (contents: 2016-17)
Acquired and read April 2018
Transformers: Till All Are One, Volume Two

Written by Mairghread Scott
Art by Sara Pitre-Durocher and Naoto Tsushima
Colors by Joana Lafuente
Additional Colors by Priscilla Tramontano
Letters by Tom B. Long

Till All Are One, Volume Two picks up from the events of Titans Return-- at the end of that crossover, a massive army of undead Titans was summoned to Cybertron. In this story, Windblade and Starscream have to unite the disparate factions on Cybertron into a cohesive defense against the zombie Titans.

The art in this series has always been good, but I think Sara Pitre-Durocher really pushes herself to new levels in this volume.
from Transformers: Till All Are One #8 (art by Sara Pitre-Durocher)

It's heavier on the action and lighter on the character than Mairghread Scott's previous Transformers work; I was always surprised when an issue ended because I didn't feel like twenty pages of things had really happened. I like where this storyline pushed Windblade, though, as she increasingly is forced to compromise her own morality in face of the bigger picture of Cybetronian unity, and at this point, her and Starscream are almost always on the same page. (Starscream is still too obviously slimy-- like, who does like him?-- but in this volume he's better than most.) I look forward to seeing where this all goes in the series's final volume.

This Friday: Meanwhile, in space... trying to track down the Lost Light!