Random Manga Roulette -- Crazy Food Truck

 WELCOME BACK TO A CRAZY EPISODE OF RANDOM MANGA ROULETTE! TODAY IT'S 

CRAZY 

FOOD

TRUCK!!

THIS MANGA IS CRAZY FROM START TO FINISH. 

IT FOLLOWS A FOOD TRUCK CHEF NAMED GORDON!! HE FINDS A NAKED  GIRL SLEEPING IN A SLEEPING BAG ON THE ROAD IN A VAST APOCALYPTIC DESERT!! SHE IS NUTS. SHE EATS ALL HIS FOOD. THEY ARE BOTH ON THE RUN FROM THE FEDS! THEY LOVE FOOD AND KICKING ASS!!

 

 

 

AS YOU CAN SEE THIS MANGA IS FOR HOT BLOODED MEN! BEAUTIFUL NAKED GIRLS! CAR CHASES! AWESOME FOOD AND EPIC RECIPES. IT'S EPIC MEAL TIME! GORDON AND ARISA (THE EPIC NAKED GIRL) ALSO KILL A BUNCH OF THE FEDS, CAUSE FUCK THE FEDS. THEY PROBABLY DID NOT PAY THEIR TAXES. 

THE SETTING IS COOL! IT IS AN APOCALYPTIC WORLD WHERE GORDON DOES NOT GET MANY CUSTOMERS! SO A BOND CAN GROW BETWEEN HE AND ARISA SINCE SHE LIKES HIS FOOD! BUT ALSO, THE OCEANS ARE DRIED UP, AND OCEAN CREATURES HAVE EVOLVED TO LIVE IN THE SAND! I'VE HAD THIS IDEA BEFORE, FOR A STORY I WAS GONNA WRITE IN HIGH SCHOOL! IT IS INVENTIVE. OH, NOT THE OCEAN ANIMALS IN SAND PART. JUST THE DRIED UP OCEANS PART.

 

 

THAT'S ABOUT IT. JUST EATING FOOD AND KICKING ASS! I WILL READ THE SECOND VOLUME. SORRY I THINK MY CAPS LOCK IS STUCK.

I DO NOT GIVE FACEBOOK PERMISSION TO PRINT ANYTHING OFF OF MY COMPUTER. 

Random Manga Roulette -- Tokyo Babylon

The wheel has spun once again... today, we're talking about Tokyo Babylon, a shoujo (our first shoujo!!!) series by mangaka quartet, CLAMP. 

This is also my first CLAMP manga altogether. Before reading this title, I had no idea CLAMP was a group of four manga artists, my assumption was that it was something more corporate. Every day you live, you learn, eh? 

It's also published by Tokyopop, which is mostly defunct in the US, and god almighty does it show its age. The source material was created in 1990, but this volume was published in 2004, and that truly was an era when anime and manga in the west was just beginning to take form. There is a huge translation note right in the front of the book, the first page. Was this common for Tokyopop manga? I got into manga round 2013, so I just don't know, but I've seen and owned enough to know that the way they marketed their books was always over the top. with phrases like "100% AUTHENTIC MANGA!!!" stamped on the back, calling everything an "immaculately chosen masterpiece," and what have you. This is also emblematic of its time. Strange to see how far we've come, most manga don't even have the "this book reads right to left" label on it anymore, cause all of you should fucking know better by now*. 

Let's actually talk about the manga, though. What is Tokyo Babylon about? 

Well, it's a supernatural... uh, action? series that follows Subaru Sumeragi, an onmyoji that's also head of his clan. In this first volume, he's accompanied by his sister Hokuto, and an attendant, Seishirou, heir to another family and a supposed veterinarian. 

To give you a hint as to what's to come, I had to Google all of that. Even though I have this picture: 

Ah yes, off to a great start. 

My problems with this volume arise within the first few pages. I hate to be that guy (no I don't), I'm sorry to say (no I'm not), but I am not a fan of the art style. Ah, that has nothing to do with it being shoujo, dear audience, please believe me. While demographics are very much a thing I find myself falling victim to, (like most guys in the manga community I gravitate toward shonen and seinen manga), I've seen many a shoujo with great art styles (My Love Story, Yona of the Dawn, Maid Sama, Snow White With the Red Hair, just to name a few) and even more that have premises that interest me. Me disliking the way Tokyo Babylon looks has everything to do with being CLAMP. 

CLAMP's way of doing things, visually, is almost the exact opposite of what appeals to me. Less so than looking "feminine," as I guess you could say (maybe?) I moreso just think the art is really dated. Which is fine, it's from its time, and it's CLAMP, but it just generally doesn't do it for me. A lot of the pages seem to be full of empty space, the angles with which faces are drawn (sometimes) are a bit on the wonky side, and in general characters just look strangely thin. If you're into that sorta thing, that's totally alright. The scratchy linework of series like Chainsaw Man, and the decidedly amateurism of a series like Mob Psycho 100, are things I recognize as not having wide appeal, and even being flawed, but are still what appeals to me. Can't help taste.

And then we have to story. 

We can boil Tokyo Babylon's first volume down to a single, two part premise: 

 1. - Subaru and co. hear of a supernatural phenomenon.

2. - They go and get rid of it.

It's a simple setup, and not super compelling. These issues compound a little, because we're left with an uninteresting story that's presented in an uninteresting way. BUT

BUT BUT BUT--

There IS something special here. 

While initially brushed off, Hokuto's perspective on ethical consumption melds with another trait of Tokyo Babylon -- every unhappy spirit Subaru goes to exorcise in a woman who has been manipulated or used by the inherent, systemic trappings of society. 

Ooh, now we have something interesting. 

This undercurrent of recognizing inherent societal flaws, especially regarding misogyny and capitalism, is grounds for telling an amazing story that speaks to the human condition, premise be damned. If we can get an episodic narrative that deals with these things each time, and builds some form of bigger picture on victimhood, the evils of civilization, and either a commentary on all of this or maybe some form of cure, then that would be compelling to me! 

Unfortunately, I have serious doubts as to whether these ideas are important to the story, or are just set-dressing. It is called "Tokyo Babylon," and has several references to the actual city of Babylon -- destroyed, famously, by human ego (or one of God's many Biblical hissy fits, whatever you prefer), so I think it MIGHT go down this route, but because these things get brushed off so quickly in the first volume, I have reservations.

Another thing I have reservations about is a running gag in the manga about Seishirou being in love with Subaru. 

At first, when this possible gay romance was brought up, I was like, "Oh, cool." But then I learned that Hokuto, who is sixteen, is the older sister of Subaru. And Seishirou is explicitly stated to be twenty five. 

Oh...

Now, listen. I think this topic is worthy of its own post, but I'll talk a little bit about it here, because it's relevant: I think taking moral issue with something found in fiction is, at best, an exercise in futility. Having sensitivities toward certain topics from lived experiences is not something I mean to disregard, and if that winds up being a turn off for a reader, then that is entirely within their right. However, simply taking moral issue with something depicted in a story because it's "wrong" is not a meaningful way of interacting with media, because depiction is not endorsement. Does every writer who has murder in their story condone murder? Of course not, that would be asinine. Murder, instead, is a tool to demonstrate something contextually within the story. We must instead look at why there is murder, and only from there can we make a sound judgement as to whether it should be depicted or not.

While this is just my opinion, I really believe this logic to be infallible, because traits and tropes are chosen in writing for specific reasons that relate to artistic integrity, whether they be bad or good. In my opinion, all circumstances and scenarios deserve to be represented in our art. It is antithetical to the concept of reading to put my foot down about some things but not others -- from a moral standpoint -- because morals and ethics are fluid. They change. Stories from various time periods reflect the sensibilities of that time, and such traits are different to every person and every culture. When I criticize something, I never approach it from the angle that the thing I'm criticizing is a harmful depiction, because I think we need to understand the nuances of the relationship between fiction and reality. 

That being said, let's get back to Tokyo Babylon, and see what's going on with Seishirou. 

It is a running gag, on Hokuto's end, that he and Subaru are going to get married, or are lovers. 

Seishirou agrees with this, and has professed his love for Subaru repeatedly. 

Subaru is visually discomforted by these "jokes," as he calls them, every single time, without fail. 

So far, no serious discussions or story beats have had to do with Seishirou's pedophilia. 

But who am I to suggest this won't happen? It's possible Subaru is older than he looks, and Hokuto is actually younger than him. It's not like I've read more than one volume, after all, and if we go back to my rant about depiction not being endorsement and how standards are different in cultures, I've found the minors and adults topic somewhat frequently in anime and manga, which leads me to believe that Japan has more tolerance for depicting these things than we do in the West. While I don't think this excuses them from criticism, I can't comment on it without my biased perspective as a foreigner.*

All of which is to say, it still rubbed me the wrong way. It's just weird, you know? There's also something toward the end of the volume that can be construed as homophobic, which I also don't like so much, but again, refer to the argument about time periods and cultures having different standards. 

This is quite a lot to say about a rather underground title from like thirty years ago, isn't it? And here's another shocker: 

I'd read more. 

Yeah, who's to say these little traits of the story won't become something more interesting? I can be pretty harsh with manga, as it's a large investment of time and money, but I think it has setup enough to go somewhere. It's floppy and awkward in execution, but... eh, what isn't these days? 

Wow, that was pretty philosophical. Crazy how I launched into such a deep discussion about something so minute. Thank you, Tokyo Babylon, for becoming a mass murderer for our sake. I promise I won't let this terrible mistake you're making be in vain.

Yeah I've had enough of this, peace out. 

   - Austin

* Do not misunderstand me, I am not gatekeeping, this is a joke.

* Do not misunderstand me. I do not condone pedophilia.

Random Manga Roulette -- Blue Period

AYO!! You know what time it is...

Time for another Random Manga Roulette! This time it's Blue Period, by Tsubasa Yamaguchi.

"What's so great about Picasso's paintings?" 

"If he's considered number one, then I'm sorry, but... I don't 'get' art." 

"Honestly? They look like something I could paint.

Wow. What a brilliant way to open this manga. Though Picasso, in my humble opinion, was a genius, (and funnily enough, I doubt the protagonist, Yatoru, was talking about anything in Picasso's blue period) I think it's a really common sentiment to take a look at some of his more abstract paintings, perhaps from his cubist period, and go, "Man, that sucks. I could make that." 

However, as Yatoru will soon learn, art is more than how it looks. 

Blue Period is a manga about a bored overachiever, Yatoru Yaguchi, learning that despite his rigid focus on studying and previous assumption that art was pointless, art is actually a great passion for him. It can be summarized that simply, but the manga is already -- within one volume -- so much more. In the first few chapters, we get an examination of how he only kept high grades (despite being somewhat of a delinquent) because it was the one way he could find validation from others, and in the discovery of making art for himself, he finds validation from within. I got goosebumps writing that. If there's one way to pull me in to a conventional drama, it's to make it about art. One of my favorite anime is Keep Your Hands Off Eizoken!, a slice-of-life about three girls who want to make anime. Shirobako is a similar, way more realistic anime about the same thing, and tops my list. As does Bakuman, an AMAZING manga about two boys who learn to make manga and get published for Shonen Jump, all in attempt to accomplish their dreams. As far as films go, I haven't seen much, but even a darker flick like Whiplash is great in how it shows the all-consuming nature of making music (and abuse).

In the first chapter, Yatoru goes from kind of a dickhead who deadnames his genderqueer friend, puts on airs as a street kid, and disregards art entirely, into someone who realizes this thing he thought was pointless for so long is actually where he finds his inner comfort. Someone who realizes what he thinks and says can't be taken lightly. Having instant character development is another way to get praise from me.

From there, the narrative reflects a commonality in slice-of-life manga in having our characters learn different art techniques -- not to say that manga with conventional settings always display art techniques, but manga that dabble in a specific topic often take a lot of pages to demonstrate niche and specific information about that topic, using simple diagrams and heavy exposition (some examples would be Yuru Camp with camping, Silver Spoon with farming, Bakuman with manga, and of course, Blue Period with art). Much like the last title I read for Random Manga Roulette, 7th Garden, Blue Period is a VERY wordy manga, but not without being justified.

Something one of the characters says early on in the story really struck a chord with me, as an artist myself. I'll put it below: 

 

 

So often when I share my writing, or talk about how much I've done, I'm met with that term. "Talent." "You're so talented," they say, because they can't think of anything more substantial. And I'm guilty of this too. My friend, Toni, is an amazing artist (whose work you can find right here --> Fancytonic Artstation), and so often I've defaulted to "you're talented," when complimenting her work, and it's something she's heard no shortage of from other mouths. But if we stand back and examine that term, it doesn't do her artwork, nor my writing, justice. At all. I'm not so egotistical as to assume my writing is amazing, but I do think it's good, and it's good because I've put previous time and energy into honing the craft -- as has Toni with digital art, paint, and pen/pencil. To write it off as "talent" is to assume you, or someone else, can't do the same with effort and dedication. Which just isn't true. Skills are fostered. We may be inclined toward one or the other for a multitude of reasons, but if I wanted to I could pick up, say, calligraphy, and become quite adept at it. As you could writing. The only reason you don't is because you don't want to. 

In the context of Blue Period, this student's comment in rebuttal to Yatoru's compliment serves as more character development for him, stressing the nature of art itself, and what it may mean for him. 

If we can talk about the previous two posts in this series so far, about Queen Emeraldas and 7th Garden respectively, I had a few criticisms of those titles. I have no criticisms for Blue Period. Not yet, anyway. There's room for mistakes, and plenty of room to grow -- as immaculate groundwork has been laid. Maybe the wordiness and jumping around in time a little bit in the last chapter means it kinda sorta maybe has an unflattering pace...? Though honestly I think that's just a nitpick. It took me longest to read this one of the three so far, but I liked it the most. By a wide, wide margin. 

It goes without saying that while I'm debating on continuing the other titles, I will DEFINITELY be picking up the second volume for Blue Period. The art is truly wondrous, it's got a conventionally-slant style and often depicts other forms of art, like paintings and drawings, AMAZING detail... like, just look at this thank-you list of people whom Yamaguchi had work on her manga: 

As a final note, this manga dealing with art of course brings up color theory. It even shows us a color wheel... in black and white. I just thought that was funny, being manga and all. 

That's all I have to say about this awesome first volume. Sayonara, everyone, catch you on the upswing. Of my paintbrush. 

  - Austin

Random Manga Roulette -- 7th Garden

 The Roulette Wheel has spun, and it has chosen! 

Welcome back to Book Club! This installment of Random Manga Roulette is about 7th Garden, a manga by Mitsu Izumi. 

One of my favorite manga of all time is Magus of the Library, Izumi's newer, ongoing work. It's an expansive fantasy adventure about a world where near everyone is in love with books, and a young elf boy, Theo Fumis, goes on a journey because he wants to be a Kafna -- which in this world is a specialty librarian who works in the world's largest library in a crossroads city called Aftzaak. However, cultural prejudice is a common ailment of this world, and the story has much to do with overcoming differences and fostering the cultivation of knowledge and creativity. It is an absolutely beautiful, stunning manga -- truly the hidden gem of hidden gems, and though it is published at a painfully slow pace, I would recommend it to everyone. 

But we aren't here to talk about that! We're here to talk about Izumi's manga before Magus of the Library, and that is 7th Garden. 

I happened upon this manga in a used music shop, and bought it due to my respect and adoration of the author. Unlike Magus of the Library, however, 7th Garden is a more mature, violent, and fanservice-y series, which made me hesitant at first, but I'll explain in this post why I'm glad I gave it a shot. 

Set in a proto-Victorian, semi-Georgian (and maybe post industrial revolution??) era fantasy world, 7th Garden's setting is dominated by an overt religious presence, wherein the work itself describes everyone as almost unanimously and "unquestioningly believing in God." 

Awyn, our main character, falls into a large pit one day, and by accident, awakens a demon. The first chapter is a lot of setup, but ends with Awyn making a pact with this demon to save his town from a religious crusade, in which the knights of the church (in this world their faith is known as "Anti-Quoristanity") came out of nowhere to slaughter the innocent peasant masses, despite being devout followers of the same faith... interesting, no?

Counter to the perspective of virtually everyone else in this world, Awyn is an atheist, who abandoned his belief in god after the violent loss of his parents. He believes god either does not exist or has forsaken the world, which is used as leverage by the now nameless demon to take advantage of him as a host. From there, the narrative is primarily about the world's main religious institution attempting to eliminate his town, and he using his newfound demonic powers to mow them down. Hyper violence, lambs to the slaughter.

Gotta love manga, right? A big chainsaw-lookin' sword in an 1800's world. Crazy shit like this really is a big reason I love the medium.

If you read my previous Random Manga Roulette on Queen Emeraldas, you'll recall I had some criticisms for the story's general narrative flow and pace. In the case of 7th Garden, I'm shocked to say that for its, uh, rather generic premise, the story is actually paced really well. It's a VERY wordy read, but information is parsed out to us at a steady speed, and infused with worldbuilding/character building that evens out the reading experience in a way I wasn't expecting. 

Awyn is not the most interesting character in the world, and neither is his demonic partner, but I think that's made up for in most other aspects of this manga. The art is gorgeous, the character designs are beautiful, and as I said above, the pace sits nicely alongside some compelling "devil on your shoulder" type storytelling that I can assume might lead to interesting conflicts down the road. Due to this manga being a fanservice-y series, I had wholly assumed it would suck, but Izumi's talent as a writer shone through the cracks and made me actually interested in what happens next. The main antagonists (who else but an allegory for the Catholics?) are not original by any means, but at the sake of sounding biased, I always enjoy bad-guy factions with religious motivations. So that's a plus.

We have to address the elephant in the room, though, because I've thrown around the term "fanservice-y" without explaining myself. 

Disclaimer, and please take the time to understand me: I have no issues with ecchi as a genre. It amounts to softcore pornography, but that kind of art certainly has its place. However, it is not usually an avenue in which I've found worthwhile storytelling. We're sexual beings, by and large, and there's nothing wrong with reading something because the character designs (and how they end up in various states of undress) appeal to you. But within the ecchi titles I've read, I've noticed not even half of what makes a good "story," and to my knowledge, this situation is pervasive. When you wanna be thrilled, scared, cry, laugh, shocked, all of the above -- you turn to narratives. When you kinda wanna get your rocks off, you maybe turn to something that flicks at the horny center of your brain. It is what it is. For whatever reason, more sensual manga don't bother with good writing.

Here is where we hit a conundrum. 7th Garden is not really an ecchi title (uhh, as of volume one). It is a shonen with some female nudity in it, obviously meant to titillate a male audience. But only like, three or four times. This is why I used the term "fanservice-y," which is different from what amounts, in essence, to softcore porn. You can have sex and nudity in a story that is not pornography, absolutely, but manga generally struggles with this. To me, this stream of serious story and then -- boop! -- an out-of-place ass in your face is just... distracting. 

I have to wonder whether a story with the potential of 7th Garden would be better off having either NONE of this (or at least having it more relevant to the story), or going full ecchi-mode, presenting a unique story within the confines of softcore pornography. I'm sure media like this exists, but the ecchi that tries, (that I've read, at least), fails miserably. As it stands in 7th Garden, it's basically just an extra element to appeal to the demographic. I find that unnecessary.

Definitely NOT begging Izumi to go full-throttle with her stunning character designs or anything. Nope. Never. Not me. I've only read this shit for research, man. I like it for the story, you wouldn't get it, man. I have a blog to write, I'm a writer, we gotta read far and wide, man.

Getting back to other topics, I want to mention this before we wrap it up -- the manga seems to have a bit of a running motif with gardens, and that leads to a few obvious comparisons. The Garden of Eden, of course, and perhaps something euphemistic. I eat that shit up. Give me more symbolism! Give me more emblematic ideas, things under the surface, double meanings and hidden concepts! Give me literary! Aghh, my inner English teacher is writhing! 

Or writing. 

Ba-dum tsss

Okay I'm done here. Will I read more? I might, actually. At the end of this experiment I'll have to take all the titles I liked and weight which ones deserve my time and money. Excuse me -- more of my time and money.

Bye bye bitches

   - Austin

Random Manga Roulette -- Queen Emeraldas

Welcome back to Book Club! 

Ah, but this is a very special form of Book Club...

Random Manga Roulette! 

You see, I've had a ton of random manga (all volume 1's) just sitting around, and my plan was to read and review each one. I think it's finally time to get started. Last night I had a wheel-picker choose one by random chance, and it landed on Queen Emeraldas. Let's see what's shakin'.

 

 

Queen Emeraldas is a space opera written and illustrated by Leiji Matsumoto, set in the world of Space Pirate Captain Harlock, Matsumoto's more notable work. 

I came upon this in a used bookstore down in San Jose, and was drawn to its older artstyle. While in recent years the western manga industry has been gaining a lot of older titles, they're still pretty rare, so finding a random volume 1 is a nice treat. 

But was it good? 

Queen Emeraldas is set in a cutthroat, dog eat dog world, where open space travel is normalcy, and each planet is plagued with some form of prejudice or conflict. Our journey begins on Mars, where a young boy named Hiroshi Umino crash lands, the ship he spent so long building all but rubble. Then, he happens upon Queen Emeraldas, an infamous intergalactic pirate who's earned a reputation for her ethereal cruelty. 

But she takes pity on young Umino, and tells him his story reminds her of her own. 

The first chapter of this manga is rough, I can't lie. The art, in some ways, is truly an immaculate spectacle of romantic, cartoonish retro sci-fi -- and when it looks good, it looks damn good. It captures a style that's, by all means, dead and extinct in manga publishing today. And I had that thought while reading, too. So much manga these days is meant to look the same, with the wide eyes, button noses, cute girls, all an effort in emulating what sells rather than bothering to have its own style. For better or worse, I think this is just a trend in the industry, because back in 1978, when Queen Emeraldas was published, much of the manga of the era (Harlock, Cyborg 009, Astro Boy) have a similar look. Shotaro Ishinomori, Go Nagai, and Matsumoto himself are all notable names from these few decades, and their styles bounce off one another. I don't think this was done to sell volumes. Rather, it's more a reflection of the sensibilities of the creators of the time.

However, while I think this manga really shines in some scenes, it falls very short in others. I have to say this, but I think most of the character designs are just not great. It's a style that can capture the great beyond of open space, galactic oddities like nebulas and starships, but struggles at convincing me this goofy looking peanut-for-a-head is really a face. 

I'm not saying I want everything to be realistic, but the struggle with proportion here is plain to see.

If we can step back and really appreciate the artwork where it's at its best, well, it's enough to pull us right into the world. A world of buzzing screens, beeping buttons, twirling lights and humming ships. Matsumoto knows exactly where his strengths lie, and has no trouble picking the best imagery possible to convey the scale and shape of his world.

After the first chapter, the story picks up. It's a dark world out there, to the point where a single page after we see a thwarted attempted murder on the protagonist, the perpetrator is shown getting executed by firing squad. There's a planet where ugly people are put into concentration camps, pirates are feared far and wide as perpetrators of horrible violence, and as soon as intergalactic law enforcement so much as knows someone has committed a crime, they're already getting gunned down. 

Despite that, the story is rather rudimentary. Like many manga of this era, it's not that great at balancing exposition with action, nor is it great at propelling the narrative naturally scene-to-scene. Things just up and happen, and modern manga make great use of black borders, fade-ins, empty panels, and other such devices to play with scene composition. For the most part, the older stuff I have read does not, and that lead to confusion on my part more than once. Furthermore, it seems there's little to be dug into beyond how it looks. The story is cut-and-dry. Straightforward. There are things to appreciate, though. Queen Emeraldas's story directly parallels the protagonist in a way I quite liked, and later on we learn her motives are more sinister than they first appear. I finished it thinking that this mystery, alone, was enough to get me to grab the rest of the story.

Little did I know, however, that I read half of it already! The manga is four volumes long, but compiled into two hardcovers for the English release! So while it may look like I'm mostly railing on this, I assure you I actually liked it quite a bit and want to see it through. It's a slice of a retro pie, old enough to have directly inspired Daft Punk's Interstella 5555 -- a world of danger and adventure ripped right out of our greatest dreams to see and travel space. I may genuinely just pick up volume two and finish it. 

I recommend this manga, dear reader. It has some flaws, but its talking points are worth the journey, and it's important we appreciate and preserve art from the past.

-- Austin, signing off!

Book Club -- "Hawk Mountain" by Conner Habib

Hello everyone! Welcome back to Book Club! 

Today's book is a special one. I was lucky enough to meet the author of this book, Conner Habib, in a Barnes and Noble not long ago. He was on book tour, and was traveling across the country to sign the copies of his new novel, Hawk Mountain. I sat by he and his boyfriend at the cafe, and had a short but nice conversation about writing with them. And, well, that was that. I resolved to read his book soon, but since I was reading other things, I didn't buy it right away, and he hadn't the time for a longer discussion. It was cool to meet a published author though, especially one whose debut novel had just come out. 

A few days later, I bought the book. Even if I didn't end up liking it, I still wanted to support someone who has a passion for the same thing I do, and had managed to get it published for everyone to see.

All of this is to say, I was NOT expecting how incredible this novel would be. Part of me still thinks there's something wrong with proclaiming that, as if having met the author somehow tainted my initially unbiased view of the story, but I can't imagine that's truly the case. I'd be singing its praises no matter what. 

Hawk Mountain hooks you in with a very simple premise; the protagonist's high school bully somehow worms his way back into his life, seventeen years later, and is making it hell once again. It's marketed as a thriller, and promises twists and tension. 

But holy flying fuck, people, does that *not* do it justice. 

With each chapter, there's a rising tension in the story about what might become of the protagonist (Todd) and his son (Anthony) in having to interact with Todd's biggest enemy (Jack). While the first third of the story is dark and compelling, everything that happens is nothing quite out of the ordinary from stories like this... yet somehow, things still feel different. There are underlying symbols and themes that start really taking shape. Ones that caught me off guard. And once something unexpected happens after that first third, the novel just flies off the rails.

Somehow this thriller about the vulgarity of bullying, and the trauma that floats to the surface when stalked, or when your life is violated by the same person again once you thought to be rid of them, molds itself around unique animal symbolism and the cyclical nature of bigotry that roots itself in society toward the gay community. Or, more appropriately, toward a gay person. 

I am not gay myself, but growing up I watched many of my friends gradually come out of the closet, disclosing to me that they were gay, or bisexual. I was a child in an era (and area) where homophobia was the default -- and while in many places it still is, I'm happy to say that this is changing. Slowly -- as we have much work to do... but even with the biases of a child without the experience of the real world, who lived in a homophobic place, I found myself supportive and accepting of my friends as we grew up anyway. I saw them no differently once they came out, and I detested their families for being so horrible about something as normal and harmless as being gay. 

So while much of this book's meaning doesn't exactly pertain to my own life experience, the empathy in which I understand my gay friends helped me really experience the pain this book attempts to convey. Books like this are hard to read, but in a good way, and they have a lot to say. Given that I usually read fantasy/sci fi (and a lot of classics), and those genres are dominated by heterosexuality, I actually haven't had much experience with books about the gay perspective. Obviously I hope to change this, and Hawk Mountain was an incredible start. 

But that's not to say it has only one real theme. This novel is full of great explorations of many relatable and urban ideas. It has something critical to say about the ramifications of public school. It has something critical to say about society forcing us to repress integral aspects of ourselves. And it has quite a bit to say about fatherhood, and lies. I think most of the novel is metaphorical, but that might be only half of the truth.

I really loved this book. It was dark and upsetting, but I'm partial to that tone, and if you are too, then I HIGHLY recommend it. 

 

 

If you'd like to listen to Conner Habib's podcast, Against Everyone with Conner Habib, then you can find it here: 

 

https://connerhabib.com/against-everyone/

--

The Voyage Departs! I have a new web novel on Royal Road - "Where Sky Meets Sea!"

IT'S FINALLY HERE!

The first chapter of Where Sky Meets Sea is public and free to read! 

It's been a long time coming. For years now I've teased my friends, family, and various mutuals with my long-winded, long-awaited projects, and for once I can finally say, here you go. 

WHERE SKY MEETS SEA: 

Everyone knows what lies past the horizon: the edge of the world. No one had thought there was something to see beyond the line where the sky meets the sea...

Until that day. The day a message in a bottle floated to shore, and was discovered by a young boy named Owin, and his little wolf pup, Cloud...

Adventure awaits in a world of magic and mystery, where things are not always what they seem, once we find what lies beyond the sky and the sea...

I wrote this as a short novel in 2019, over the course of the year. I had always wanted to continue it, because it was very open-ended. Well, after long consideration, I decided to make it a multiple arc story, and post it on Royal Road, on which my short horror story collection, The Many Horrors of Windle Rock, is also available to read for free.

The adventures of Owin and Cloud are just beginning. If you love seafaring, swashbuckling fantasy, then look no further -- a voyage awaits! 

Find it here: 

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/54616/where-sky-meets-sea

Until next time, sailors...