My mailboxes, analog and digital, keep filling with great graphic novels. Here are a few:
DUNE (Abrams ComicArts, $24.99)
The proper name of this hardback is "Dune: The Graphic Novel, Book 1: Dune" which sounds a bit redundant. The Preface explains this unfortunate nomenclature thusly: "The original novel was broken into three 'books,' (so) the graphic novel will be released in three separate volumes." That refers to just the first book, mind you, not the many sequels.
Which is fine. Because this adaptation is aiming to be the most faithful ever, and given the length of the original novel by Frank Herbert, the creators need some room to play. After all, as anyone who has read the novel can attest, "Dune" is a whopper of a book that can't be swallowed all at once.
If you haven't read "Dune," the elevator pitch is this: In the far future, a sprawling interstellar society straddles the galaxy. It's extremely high tech, but its culture and politics are, perversely, somewhat medieval. The book focuses on House Atreides, which is feuding with House Harkonnen, with the former being assigned by the empire to take control of the planet Arrakis from the Harkonnens. The reasons for this are unclear at the beginning of the book, but that's hardly the only mystery.
Arrakis is a desert planet, referred to unofficially as "Dune," from which we derive our title. The only real resource on Arrakis is "spice," a drug which opens perceptions, allowing some individuals to become blissed-out celestial navigators, which is what makes interstellar travel possible. Also, there are Godzilla-size sand worms. The spice is so incredibly valuable that people live with the danger of the worms in order to mine it.
I was required by the Unspoken Rules of Geekdom (of Which I Cannot Speak) to read "Dune" in high school, as "Dune" is an essential book in the Geek Canon. I was thrilled by Herbert's imagination and the intricacies of his world-building. I was less thrilled by the young protagonist Paul Atreides, who becomes the leader of a group of religious fanatics, because the locals think he's the incarnation of their prophesied savior, Maud'dib. Also, there is the issue of spice addiction among many of the principals, and even in high school I knew that drugs are bad, m'kay? At least, that's what I remember at this far remove.
I was too young at the time to realize that "protagonist" and "hero" are not interchangeable terms. Herbert wanted the reader to be uncomfortable with Paul, because religious fanaticism and addiction, even when on the side of the white hats, aren't good things. A morally complicated book, this "Dune."
Which is why most adaptations to this point haven't been able to capture what makes it such a landmark novel, whose concepts have been poached by other sci-fi works for decades. (Spice mines are mentioned in "Star Wars," and a giant sand worm just showed up "The Mandalorian." You can probably think of a few more examples on your own.)
So if this adaptation of the book wants to take its time in order to make it "pure 'Dune' — chapter for chapter, scene by scene," that's OK. That's ambitious, but the book has the right pedigree: it's written by Herbert's son Brian, and the author of approximately five bajillion SF books, Kevin J. Anderson.
The art, by Raul Allen and Patricia Martin, isn't flashy but is clear and clean. It does its job well, rendering all the technical gizmos so that their function is usually obvious, and depicting the sprawling cast with sufficient dexterity to make them easy to identify at a glance. That may seem so fundamental that it doesn't bear mentioning, but a great many comics artists are incapable of these things, and just cover their inadequacies with cross-hatching. Allen and Martin, by contrast, know their onions.
All in all, I was more than satisfied, and am eagerly looking forward to "Dune: The Graphic Novel, Book 2: Electric Booga-Dune" and "Dune: The Graphic Novel, Book 3: The Dune-Dune-Duniest." Or whatever they choose to call them.
VICTOR AND NORA (DC Comics, $16.99)
I wasn't expecting to be emotionally affected by "Victor and Nora: A Gotham Love Story." For one thing, it's a Young Adult book, and I am far removed from my hormonal days. For another, I know the ending: The Victor of the title is Victor Fries, aka the future Mr. Freeze, and Nora is the future human popsicle whose cure and release from cryogenic suspension is the Batman villain's overriding motivation.
And sure enough, the book opens with shy Victor as a teen science whiz and Nora as a teen free spirit who captures his heart. The two have a whirlwind romance. But Nora suffers from "chrysalisis," a "progressive, degenerative, neurological disease" which appears to be entirely made up. So the book marches inevitably to its foreordained end: Nora on ice, and Victor willing to cross any moral or ethical boundary to save her.
Fortunately we don't get to that part, where Victor will be, shall we say, less than admirable. Instead, the book leaves us at their bittersweet parting, which is where my aforementioned emotional response made its appearance. Writer Lauren Myracle ("Let It Snow") made me really like these kids, darn it. They deserve better than this.
I wasn't initially impressed with the art by Isaac Goodhart, either. He comes from the popular school of art that is basically bland, YA manga without all the culturally distinct Japanese elements (chibis, emoticons, enormous eyeballs, etc.) which Western readers can find off-putting. But "bland" turned into "fundamentally sound" as I progressed. And Goodhart seems inspired by Nora, whose perpetual motion, wild hair and freewheeling body language are truly fetching. By the end of the book, I couldn't imagine anyone else doing a better job.
So yeah, they got me. Try "Victor and Nora," and see if they get you, too.
FANTASTIC PAINTINGS OF FRAZETTA (Vanguard, $39.95)
Do you remember your first encounter with a Frank Frazetta painting? I do. It was in junior high, when I spotted — and immediately bought — "Conan of Cimmeria" (Lancer, 1969), with Frazetta's "The Frost Giants" gracing the cover. There was something about Frazetta's work — the sheer physicality, the frenetic activity caught in a frozen moment, the powerful barbarians, the plausible monsters, the sultry babes — that made me immediately want to know more.
Now, I was a Geek, so naturally gravitated to the fields in which fantasy artist Frazetta most often appeared. But, of course, any time he did appear, I immediately snapped up whatever it was, even if the cover was only marginally connected to the interiors. Conan, Tarzan, John Carter of Mars, "Creepy" and "Eerie" magazines, Pellucidar, SF books, fantasy books – I bought lots of stuff with Frazetta art, sometimes just for the Frazetta art.
"The Death Dealer" is perhaps Frazetta's most famous painting, of a huge warrior in black armor on an even huger black horse, whose face cannot be seen, but whose threatening axe is clearly visible. I snapped up the Dell paperback "Flashing Swords" #2 in 1973 where that painting first appeared, and in subsequent years bought a large print of the same painting to hang on my wall, and later still the pricey statue. (I managed to stop myself from buying Molly Hatchett's self-titled 1978 album, which featured "Death Dealer" on the cover. But only because I didn't have a stereo at the time.)
Where am I going with this? To "Fantastic Paintings of Frazetta," an oversized coffee table book by J. David Spurlock's indie publisher Vanguard.
I don't know how Spurlock picked the paintings and illustrations included in the book; "Death Dealer" is included, for example, but "The Frost Giants" is not. It probably has something to do with copyrights and trademarks and other legal hoo-ha.
But what material is here is pure Frazetta, and therefore pure joy. The book's glossy pages and size — roughly 10 1/2 by 14 1/2 — show off the beautiful work to best advantage. And each painting is accompanied by info nuggets as to name, first appearance, background, etc. You know, the sort of thing we fans slaver to know.
But as much as this book is a fan's dream come true, even the most practical of minds should find it irresistible. Frazetta's work is often the pure distillation of some lizard brain emotion shared by all humans, arousing fear and wonder and desire all at once. Those feelings should be served now and then, and Frazetta's work is the perfect tour guide.
