Tag Archives: neil gaiman

today has been better

I always feel like I should do a followup post after a very negative one. Especially since my mom’ll be back from India soon and will read this again. She’ll think the world has ended if I leave something unhappy lying around for too long.

Today I got my car towed to the dealership in Courtenay. They’ll look after it and call me about whatever needs doing to get the car running again. It’s out of my hands now till the bill has to be paid. And I have to get down to Courtenay to get my car back. Whatever.

It’s sunny and I bought Neil Gaiman’s new picturebook about a sneezing panda.

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and it was raining

On my bike-ride home from school today I saw: an old VW campervan next to an old VW bug at a stoplight and they were both the same shade of orange, a portly middle-manager looking fellow in khakis and a blue button-down shirt skateboarding up a hill, a couple of people riding tall custom-built leisure bicycles, and a woman wearing high heeled boots for biking. They were kind of awesome and I told her so. She said “They do the trick.”

Yesterday in class I had a great interaction. We’ve been introducing ourselves a lot this past week, and in the 8am class we did it again. “State your name and something about you.” At 8am I said “I’m Justin and I think Joss Whedon’s best work was on Astonishing X-Men.” Nerd talk, but fine. Going around the room we got to Corey, who is a big guy from Houston, who served in Afghanistan (I don’t know which branch of the military) and then got an MA and now is getting this degree. He says his bit, but tacks onto the end, “And Justin, Joss Whedon is overrated.” I’m mock outraged and we all laugh and life is good.

In the afternoon class, we’re doing basically the same thing, going around the room saying our names and what our undergrad was in and whatever. This time I’m near the end. Corey has already introduced himself before it gets to me. I say “I’m Justin and I have an anthropology degree and then I was inspired to go get a journalism degree by Transmetropolitan, the graphic novel by Warren Ellis. And if Corey,” I say, theatrically gesturing to his side of the room, “has a problem with Warren Ellis, we may have to step outside.” Everybody laughs. Someone asks, mock incredulously “Are we going to see a fight?” Everyone immediately puts their money on the big black man who’s been trained to kill people, and I’m mock-outraged and life is good.

In the class break I find Corey to talk comics (we agree that Neil Gaiman is a genius and that the way Whedon brought back Colossus might not have made complete sense) and another classmate tells me/us how freaked out our prof had looked as that exchange had happened, like he was going to have to break up a fight. So that was even more fun to know after the fact.

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book review: un lun dun

Un Lun Dun is China Mieville’s book for younger readers. There’s less horriffic imagery than in the New Crobuzon books and the language is much cleaned up. I brought it in for Teen Book Club but no one took it home that day. Le sigh.

The story is about two girls in London who get summoned to the magickal abcity UnLondon (and yes the idea is similar to Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere) because the one girl is the Chosen One, destined to help UnLondon fight off this terrible menace threatening blah blah blah. So things go on and along and there are untrustworthy ghost-boys and conductors of air-buses and binjas and everyone avoids the horrible flesh-eating giraffes. Great. Then, the girls find the professor who’ll make everything right again and they get to go home to London. Hooray! Everything’s wrapped up in a nice neat little package.

But we’re only a third of the way into the book.

Deeba, who was not the Chosen One, remembers UnLondon but Zanna (the Chosen One) has had her memories of the place removed because she was injured by the beast down there. The UnChosen One starts realizing that they’d actually fucked up majorly and has to find a way back to UnLondon to put things right. This is where it got awesome, because Deeba heads down without the prophecy backing her up. There are 7 steps the Chosen One was supposed to follow to find the weapon that would deal with blah blah blah but she says “We don’t have time to get each of these 7 things let’s just hit the last one; it’ll be the most important right?” Which is the kind of thing you’d expect someone real to do, someone not bound by “how things work in these kinds of stories.” I loved it.

So yes, Un Lun Dun. Good stuff.

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book review: american gods

Neil Gaiman’s American Gods is one of my favourite stories ever. It’s about a man who gets pulled into a conflict between America’s old gods (Odin, Anubis, Anansi, leprechauns, et al) and its new (Television, Automobiles, the Internet). There are digressionary tales of people who brought their gods to America, but the main story is about this con artist who’s enlisted this guy to help defend the old ways.

One of the things it doesn’t deal with is the modern political dimension of religion. There’s a bit where they talk about the churches on every corner having nothing to do with holy sites where you have to make something, some sort of sacrifice. There’s an offhand comment about what a lucky son-of-a-virgin Jesus was, all stealing Mithras’ birthday and everything, but the political realities of America are left out. There is no discussion of Islamofascism or any of that political religious shit you can fill up with in the real world news. But there are paragraphs like this that make me love this book so much:

None of this can actually be happening. If it makes you more comfortable, you could simply think of it as metaphor. Religions are, by definition, metaphors, after all: God is a dream, a hope, a woman, an ironist, a father, a city, a house of many rooms, a watchmaker who left his prize chronometer in the desert, someone who loves you – even, perhaps, against all evidence, a celestial being whose only interest is to make sure your football team, army, business, or marriage thrives, prospers, and triumphs over all opposition.

Religions are places to stand and look and act, vantage points from which to view the world.

So none of this is happening. Such things could not occur. Never a word of it is literally true. Even so, the next thing that happened, happened like this:

There are more bits in there that I love, but the other day I watched a TED talk on metaphor and this bit leapt out at me. At work last night I was telling someone about the Pynchon bit about metaphor in V that goes:

Fausto’s kind are alone with the task of living in a universe of things which simply are, and cloaking that innate mindlessness with comfortable and pious metaphor so that the ‘practical’ half of humanity may continue in the Great Lie.”

That’s in the middle of a big chunk on the importance of poetry, which was worth the price of admission for me. So yes. Metaphor. Belief. Interesting stuff.

And this new copy of American Gods I received (in trade, not as an Xmas present) is signed by Neil Gaiman himself, from when he was in Winnipeg last month. I don’t have to get my 1st edition all banged up rereading it. So that’s cool. Thanks Steve.

But yes, American Gods is a great story. I’ve heard that there are people who don’t like it, and I honestly can’t understand why. I mean, I can understand the fact that some people don’t like beautiful wonderful things and would prefer to live in gray boxes without feeling or thinking about anything, but I don’t understand why someone would be like that. No accounting for taste I suppose.

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book review: absolute sandman volume 2

Last week I spent a goodly chunk of my paycheque on the second volume of The Absolute Sandman by Neil Gaiman (and artists). I did this for a few reasons. First, I don’t want Xmas presents this year (and am not buying them for anyone). These Absolute Sandman books are mainstays on the Xmas list, but now I could get it for myself. Second, for some reason it’s not available on Amazon.ca at a reasonable cost right now so I noticed it at McNally Robinson. Third, I wanted to read something in a big-ass tome, to feel like I was plumbing the depths of arcanity and such. That this volume of Sandman tales involves the lord of dreams coming into possession of hell makes it a good fit for that “reading a tome” experience.

Sandman comics are things I’ve known about through my entire comic-reading life (which isn’t actually that long). I may have only started reading comics when the original run was ending. I remember the spines of the trade paperbacks in the comic shop. I remember flipping through issues and not really being dragged in. One time at Campaign we were given a trade paperback by one of our book suppliers. I read it (it had the Midsummer Night’s Dream story in it) and I didn’t mind it, but I had other things to spend my money on like Transmetropolitan. So yes, I wasn’t a long-time fan or anything.

And then I started learning how influential it was, beyond the coolness of Neil Gaiman himself. How this was sort of a gothy bible, an artifact of the 1990s that I missed out on. But now I’m reading it. In Absolute form. While I would love to own books like Absolute Watchmen or the giant volumes of Sin CIty or Hellboy, I’ve read those stories, in many cases I on those stories already. But Sandman is this pristine land I’m walking through on these massive pages with their beautiful colouring et al.

Reading this doesn’t bring back memories of the first time reading these stories because this is my first time. I don’t know if this is forming the same kinds of memories for when I reread them in the future. Of being wrapped up in a blanket on my couch in my underheated condo, sipping tea and shooing away a cat. It’s not the same as if I’d been 17. Damned fine stories though.

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book review: odd and the frost giants

Odd & The Frost Giants is a Neil Gaiman kids book about Norse mythology. It’s about a boy named Odd with an infuriating smile who helps out some gods. It’s very short, but told in that Neil Gaiman way that makes it seem like the story’s always existed and he’s just putting it down in new words. The thing I found the most interesting about it is how Thor Loki and Odin are portrayed compared with how he wrote them back in Sandman. These are (as befitting the kids story nature of the book) muppet versions of the gods. In any case, it was a cute little read.

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book review: 1602

Man is there anything better than an Elseworlds book? Something taking familiar characters and putting them in a different setting from usual? Well, Neil Gaiman’s 1602 isn’t an Elseworlds book as its from Marvel not DC, but it is exactly the right kind of cool. It takes a pile of the Marvel superheroes and has them be (mostly) Europeans in 1602. Magneto is the Grand Inquisitor in Spain, Daredevil is a blind balladeer, Carlos Javier runs a school for witchbreeds, the Fantastick Four were adventurer explorers captured by the handsome Otto Von Doom. Yeah. It’s all pretty cool. I’m not a huge Marvel person so I didn’t get some of the references the first time I read it years ago but this time I picked up more.

I like these alternate comics because they don’t require knowledge of tonnes of continuity. Sort of like the new Star Trek movie really. We just want to see these archetypes do their thing, be recognizable but different. To act like they should. I suppose that’s a notion that character is deep inside, an argument against becoming who you are based on the specific things that happen to you, but on your soul or whatever. I don’t know if I believe in that in life but in fiction it’s all good.

This is why I own books, so on a Saturday evening I can pick one up and get lost.

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movie review: coraline

I did my part and went to see Henry Selick-directed Coraline (2009) last night. If it had just been Selick’s stop-motion movie I probably wouldn’t have seen it opening night, but it’s also a Neil Gaiman book, so adding my dollars to the opening weekend pool felt worthwhile. Apparently it does make a difference when you see a movie. Not when it’s Dark Knight or something big, but when it’s just a little one. I guess it matters for the big guys too, just not as much individually.

Anyway, the movie was good. I saw it at Grant Park in 3D. John Hodgman and whoever did the cat were my favourite voices, and the stop-motion was beautiful. The whole actual quest part of the story felt like it went too quickly. I mean, it looked good and all, but sitting in the theatre it felt like there was tonnes and tonnes of buildup and then boom! it was all over. In a nice neat package. I should know better than to expect the same kind of introspection you get from a book. And maybe I brought all that slow pacing to the book myself. Who knows?

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28a jiangyou

When we got off the train it was a bit earlier than scheduled, so we had a few minutes in the dark outside the train station before Todd showed up. There wasn’t anyone trying to take us anywhere which was nice, peaceful. We could idly guess if Todd was at the Jiu Dian or the Bing Guan. It turned out he was at the Bing Guan which wasn’t as seedy as it appeared at first glance. Even silhouetted in mercury vapour you could tell when Todd was coming. His height helps. And his ambling kind of walk. And his jacket. He arrived and we headed back to his room for chatting purposes.

We ranged over a host of subjects including Neil Gaiman and his time in China with Todd, what’s been happening on my travels and stories of library paging, which Todd did all through high school. Deb later revealed that she’d been a page too, as had Michelle and Phil Bender. Very strange but indicative of what a transitory job this can be. Good to know I guess.

After an hour and a half (the electronic chimes following the pattern of the bells at St. John’s college only began marking the hours at 7am) we got in a couple of cabs to head down to the college. Oh, right we picked up James & Michelle & Deb too. James is so easy for me to get along with, or at least be clever with, which may only be a substitute. Once here we met Darryl and had breakfast and sat. We talked cameras and stories were shared about whatever. “When spring comes the pretty girls come out,” said someone who was quoting their students. “Just add water,” someone else added. “And evening is when the pregnant women come out,” said another person. “Just add…” said I. Chuckles abounded.

It felt very natural hanging around here with these people. Lots like I’d never left. Holly said it’s taken her a few years for her to realize this is her family. Maybe she’s right. Maybe we needed this time this longer term. But that’s just a couple of friendships. I don’t know where I’m going with this. All this talk in the next room (Julie’s asking Catherine if the guys feel any connection between their personal lives and their Christian lives. Now she’s asking “Why have we allowed society to value what success is?) makes me worry I’m not done with the past that may not be done with me.

I met William this morning and though Holly tells me our theology is vastly different and I shouldn’t ask what he’s reading if I don’t want to get angry, I like him. He’s got this grinning laugh and joking manner I get along well with. He’s sort of a funnier Jared, or at least trying to be. And he’s got that Sean loudness to him to talk back to the starers and Nihaoers which I like. It makes me laugh which is all I really want. I feel like (theology aside) we could have been great friends if our CEE/MPC times had overlapped. Way more than me and Dan. This afternoon he was talking about his classes and what is good and what his troubles are and my brain just shuts off. Maybe it’s that he’s boring. I don’t quite know. We should be better friends. We have similar interests. But I suppose interests aren’t everything.

William led the bike tour of Jiangyou after much searching for bicycles. The place with the tandem and tridem bikes had already rented out their tallest ones. At another place “less than a mile” up the road we dug through the tarps and back rooms for suitable cycles. They weren’t as good as they could have been but they were worth the 1RMB ($0.17) I paid for the afternoon. We rode through muck and up roads through canola fields (small ones, dare I use the word agrarian?), William guiding us on the route he’d planned out the week before. I love Chinese bicycles in their gearlessness and knee-hurtingness. We can go slowly and not worry.

We curved by the coal power plant with its huge cooling towers (I was singing that song from the Simpsons power plant strike “And we’ll march day and night/by the old cooling tower/They have the plan/but we have the power” over and over while we stopped in our flocks and took pictures.) We arrived at a soysauce plant and Phil tried to get samples and Holly got used to Sichuanhua.

It feels really a lot like spring when you ride a bicycle through fields. I love that and can’t wait for spring to happen in Winnipeg. This is my extra spring. And it’s out here in the country, the healthy (though smoggy) country. There’s a dedicated steam train for the coal power plant that goes in or out at least once an hour. The first time it steamed through the flock of waiguoren to the crossing made me feel like part of a flock of waiguoren.

And we passed a bridge/pipeline crossing the river and went to William’s soccer field and got back to the school. All pictured up and ready to eat at the Christian Lady’s restaurant. Which was great. We eat so much for so little money and at the end the Jia Chang Doufu arrives, mercifully unsweet.

In the afternoon I found where I was sleeping and hung around with Dan. When we headed out to see downtown Jiangyou we occupied the back of the bus and William played tourguide and yields through stop signs and the Mall Mart. We wandered through the church behind the Mall Mart and the markets and saw the Car Bar where they may stage boxing or ultimate fighting. There’s a park along the canal where we saw a Tibetan guy in a cowboy hat hawking medicines to people with hands open empty plastic bags. I wasn’t allowed to take pictures of them and later Holly talked to someone and only found out they were from Tibet. Then we headed through winding markets with shoes and locks and stuff down to the statue of Li Bai who never refused wine. Because of his Taoist inclinations.

Dinner at a Muslim restaurant after losing everybody. We certainly are a group that doesn’t wait around for everyone to be ready. Dan was in the bathroom and emerged to find an empty apartment when the downtown excursion had begun. At Li Bai after examining the benches with no seats, only bolts Dan and I looked up and saw a receding cloud of foreigners. We caught up and left Darryl behind and then when we hit the canal we lost the Benders as well. We met up with William who’d gone to find Deb. And eventually we were in contact with everyone and ate another huge heap of food. My guts are so full of Sichuanny goodness.

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so cool

So here’s a reason I wish I’d been in China the past week or two. Neil Gaiman was at a SciFi con in Chengdu. When I heard about it I immediately emailed Holly and Todd, the two people in China I thought might be able to do something about this weird and wonderful confluence of events. Holly was off to Nanjing, but Todd went above and beyond the call of duty by oh, you know, volunteering at the convention and hanging out with Neil Gaiman and Robert J. Sawyer while they were there. One of the pictures from Neil Gaiman’s excellent blog post on the convention would almost have caught Todd, but he was getting food. Todd took a bunch of pictures of his own though, which he said I could put on my blog and in my flickr account as if they were my own. I wish.

You know that feeling of jealousy that actually feels pretty good because the thing you’re jealous of is awesome and the person who received it instead of you appreciates it, and there was just no way to get to Chengdu this month? Yeah. Thanks for going, Todd. Though it would have been sweet to get a bootleg DVD of Stardust signed. I understand why it seemed wrong.

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