White Teeth - Zadie Smith (2000)

On August 17, 2016, a little over a month ago, I posted my "15 authors" list on Facebook.  The first comment was, "This is a lot of dudes."  And yeah, right after I posted, I noticed to my horror that all 15 authors were male, and perhaps even worse, all were white.  Apparently my worldview is extremely limited and I can only appreciate authors that reflect my privilege.  But let's put all that to the side, because the real point of sharing such a list was to find out other writers I should be reading.  My friend Melissa suggested about a dozen other authors, most of them female, most or all of them non-white.  From that, I asked her which books she would recommend the most highly.  This was not an easy decision, but she settled on White Teeth and Americanah.  Well Americanah will be picked up from the library shortly, and White Teeth was a good read.  Will it be named to the "best books" list?  No, but I would still highly recommend it.

Here is the plot: as the novel opens, Archie Jones, 47, white English male, is attempting suicide by asphyxiation in his car.  He is depressed over the departure of his wife.  On a side note this was a very good way to open up a novel.  A list of "compelling opening scenes" should be compiled at some point.  In short it was immediately engaging.  Anyways, his attempt is thwarted, and he goes to a kind of hippie commune that same day and meets Clara, the 19-year-old daughter of a Caribbean immigrant.  This takes place in roughly 1975.

The novel then jumps to the perspective of Samad Iqbal, Archie's friend of 30 years.  They first meet while serving together in World War II.  Samad is originally from Bangladesh, and also marries a much younger woman around 1975, Alsana.  Both women become pregnant around the same time: Clara with a girl, and Alsana with twin boys.  These children--Irie, Millat and Magid--eventually drive the narrative to its climax.

And that's kind of my problem with the novel.  It's not that the material with Irie, Millat and Magid is inferior to the rest of the novel; it just feels like it was written to have a "real plot."  The "real plot" of the novel does not get introduced until page 343 (out of 448).  I'm not saying the last 100 pages are bad, I'm just saying they are not as good.  Regardless, many may actually find the ending to be the best part, because it does pose some interesting questions, and there is a delightful twist of sorts at the very end.  But I say this for my own personal feelings on the novel.  It is at its best when it is examining and developing the interior lives of its characters.

I read in City Lit bookstore in my neighborhood that Smith received an advance of 350,000 pounds for the novel at age 24.  To me, it feels like she got the advance, and still had to write the last 100 pages.  I am probably completely wrong with this, but that's what it felt like.  Certainly, she makes a good case that she deserved an advance of that size, but for me personally, it felt like the end of the novel feels padded.  Particularly when, for example, in the final denouement, characters make commentary on the way other characters talk:

"...Archie says Science the same way he says Modern, as if someone has lent him the words and made him swear not to break them.  'Science,' Archie repeats, handling it more firmly, 'is a different kettle of fish.'
Mickey nods at this, seriously considering the proposition, trying to decide how much weight he should allow this counterargument Science, with all its connotations of expertise and higher planes, of places in thought that neither Mickey nor Archie has ever visited (answer: none), how much respect he should give it in light of these connotations (answer: fuck all. University of Life, innit?), and how many seconds he should leave before tearing it apart (answer: three).
'On the contrary, Archibald, on the bloody contrary.  Speeshuss argument, that is.  Common fucking mistake, that is.  Science ain't no different from nuffink else, is it?  I mean, when you get down to it.  At the end of the day, it's got to please the people, you know what I mean?'
Archie nods.  He knows what Mickey means.  (Some people--Samad for example--will tell you not to trust people who overuse the phrase at the end of the day--football managers, estate agents, salesmen of all kinds--but Archie's never felt that way about it.  Prudent use of said phrase never failed to convince him that his interlocutor was getting to the bottom of things, to the fundamentals.) " (432-433)

Within that example of what I consider "padded writing," there are some alluring turns of phrase, so even though I may accuse Smith of tacking on a few words, there is no doubt that she is an extremely talented writer.

***

Sometimes when I'm struggling to figure out what to say about a book, I go on the Wikipedia page.  There I found that White Teeth was apparently named one of the 100 best books from 1923 - 2005 by Time Magazine.  It seemed like an alluring list, so I tried to check it out, but it's in one of those annoying slideshow formats where you have to click every time you want to see the next novel.  I thought I'd make a list of the things I hadn't read, but there were already many in the A-B section (The Adventures of Augie March, Appointment at Samarra, An American Tragedy, Animal Farm, Are You There God?  It's Me, Margaret, The Assistant....) and then upon revisiting it, realized you may view it by simply clicking "view all."

I'm not sure how I feel about this, but I guess people feel this book is pretty special.  I mean, I'm certainly open to the idea of reading more of Zadie Smith (I think she has a new book coming out very soon--Swing Time, due out November 16, 2016, upon investigation).  But I feel like none of her books after this have really made as big a splash.  I mean, she is like, eight years older than me, and she published this sixteen years ago!  It's kind of an old school preternatural literary debut.  Who knows, her best work may still be ahead.  (Of special note, this list does also include Watchmen in the W section so we agree at least on one book, and a few others it seems--I didn't formally name American Pastoral to the list, but I feel it belongs there.  So maybe that's a project for another day, updating that list--it's on my Profile to the right if you don't know what I'm talking about.  I haven't added anything to that list since January--but let me put it this way: I really liked this book, but I also really liked The Goldfinch and I think that book moved me more deeply.  And on that so-called "second tier" I would still place higher Then We Came to the End.)

***

In a way I read this book to try to understand my own privilege as I have lately been accused of being blind to it.  Once I was attacked upon an argument involving the issue, and directed to read an article online that someone had written, a white girl who had every conceivable woe foisted upon her, including a particular poverty-stricken childhood, and who had doubted her own privilege until she made a certain realization.  One of them was seeing a person of your own race on the front of the newspaper.  The most poignant passage on the topic comes on the heels of a brief conversation about Salman Rushdie, though he is not mentioned by name (it has to be Rushdie, right?):

"'You read it? asked Ranil, as they whizzed past Finsbury Park.
There was a general pause.
Millat said, 'I haven't exackly read it exackly--but I know all about that shit, yeah?'
To be more precise Millat hadn't read it.  Millat knew nothing about the writer, nothing about the book; could not pick out the writer in a lineup of other writers (irresistible, this lineup of offending writers: Socrates, Protagoras, Ovid and Juvenal, Radclyffe Hall, Boris Pasternak, D. H. Lawrence, Solzhenitsyn, Nabokov, all holding up their numbers for the mug shot, squinting in the flashbulb).  But he knew other things.  He knew that he, Millat, was a Paki no matter where he came from; that he smelled of curry; had no sexual identity; took other people's jobs; or had no job and bummed off the state; or gave all the jobs to his relatives; that he could be a dentist or a shop-owner or a curry-shifter, but not a footballer or a filmmaker; that he should go back to his own country; or stay here and earn his bloody keep; that he worshiped elephants and wore turbans; that no one who looked like Millat, or spoke like Millat, or felt like Millat, was ever on the news unless they had recently been murdered.  In short, he knew he had no face in this country, no voice in this country, until the week before last when suddenly people like Millat were on every channel and every radio and every newspaper and they were angry, and Millat recognized the anger, thought it recognized him, and grabbed it with both hands." (194)

I am still not adequately convinced.  At least by the character of Millat.  There are a couple elements to the book that I find uneven, and one of them is Millat and his embrace of KEVIN.  I mean, I've just got to say, Millat to me, as a character, does not scream "underprivileged."  Much is made of his attractiveness, and how he sleeps with tons of girls starting when he is like 13.  He is one of the most popular kids in his class.  Ultimately his character flaws show by how sarcastic and casually disrespectful he is towards seemingly everyone, but that does not mean one would not want to have his life (or think he had any less options than them).  He seems to have it pretty good--so why would he join KEVIN?  I think if this book were written today, he would not be nearly as popular at school.

***

This review has taken a long time to write because a lot of things happened during the month of September.  I feel that I've said enough, but a quick summary, as I read through the plot summary on Wikipedia:

(1) Yes, the book starts on a high note--and opening up a book with a major character's attempted suicide seems like it was pulled out of The Crafty Author's Bag o' Tricks (not a real book).

(2) The scene set in World War II is particularly memorable, and the "twist" at the end (despite my general misgivings about the "plot") is almost masterful, one of the highlights of the novel.

(3) All of the stuff about Mangal Pande is boring, to me at least.  I think it's funny how the other characters are also bored by it, and the novel seems to keep putting off telling his story, even seeming to refer to it in one of the "years" that the chapters of the novel are organized by, only to skirt over the story briefly, which turns it into an intriguing delusive move.

(4) The Chalfens are an interesting curveball to throw into the novel, to set the plot in action, and actually the last "set" of chapters before the "plot" commences at page 343 is probably my favorite part of the book.

(5) Irie is the one character that rings most true in the novel.

(6) I do not believe that Samad would get away with sending Magid to Bangladesh.  That is another major element of the novel that I just do not find realistic, I'm sorry.  Not that he would go, but that he would go in the manner he does.

Now I've also found that a television adaption of the novel was made for Channel 4 in 2002.  Perhaps I'll seek that out.  Even though I am kind of drawn to the idea of reading and watching The Girl on the Train, in the same way that I did with Gone Girl, that movie isn't getting very good reviews and I feel like this would be a more interesting adaptation to see.

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao - Junot Diaz (2007)

This is the first book I have read by Junot Diaz.  Recently, it held the #1 spot on the list referenced in the post on The Corrections.  I'm going to nip this one in the bud: that list is a bunch of BS.  The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao is a decent read, and I recommend it, but it is not the greatest novel of the still-young 21st century.  To hold that title, the novel must be perfect, or as close to perfect as practicable.  Assessing perfection isn't an easy task either.

What are the perfect novels I have read?  The Sorrows of Young Werther, The Great Gatsby and Lolita come to mind, but even such esteemed classics as these have their detractors--they're "overrated" or "the work of a sick man."  Truthfully, if Diaz had not been at the top of that list, I would give it a better review.  For me at least, something kicks in when a new book becomes critically-acclaimed: I want to find a defect to prove that it's not as good as everyone says it is.  I don't feel this way about films, TV shows, theater, music or any other type of art.  Just books.  I've been waiting to "hate-read" The Goldfinch for almost two years now.  Why?  Because books take concentration and sometimes people skim them.  I feel that I always put enough "effort" into a book to write an accurate review--not always the case for those other mediums (though I have toyed with writing reviews of Interstellar and Ant-Man over the past couple of weeks and months, it can be hard to say something original about them).

The first problem with this book (for me) is the Spanish.  There is a lot of Spanish in this book and it is almost never translated.  True, if one does not know the language, one can still easily read the book and get something out of it, but I have to believe that with the quantity of Spanish (or "Spanglish," if you call it that), knowledge will enhance your experience.  One comment on race: Spanish is already on its way to becoming a second national language, so perhaps the popularity of this book is merely a reflection of that cultural shift in progress.  Obviously, this book will be enjoyed most by children of immigrants from the Dominican Republic, and to a lesser extent, Hispanic-Americans generally.  "Nerds" are another target demographic, and though I think Comic Con attendees will also enjoy it, the ethnic connection is ultimately more powerful.  People that know what Hispanic families are like (and don't need to keep a Spanish-to-English dictionary at hand) will enjoy it the most.

The plot?  Fuku.  Fuku is a curse that has bedeviled Oscar's family for the past hundred years or more.  Oscar himself is not named Wao, but Cabral de Leon (he is called Oscar Wao by his friends in reference to a Doctor Who character, I think).  This account of "Oscar's life" is much more an account of his family's history.  Anybody going into this blind deserves to know that.  (As usual, I will avoid spoilers--though it is quite easy to go almost all the way to the end of this book without spoiling anything.)

Because of this aspect, the book bears an unsettling resemblance to One Hundred Years of Solitude (the rare review without an excerpt!).  Checking that review, I would say the historical parts are easier to follow in this one, but equally maddening.  Obviously, this story is about Oscar.  But really it amounts to about three or four decent-sized chapters or short stories about Oscar and the different periods in his life (teen-hood, college-dom, young adult-hood).  The book has 335 pages and it seems like less than half of them are about Oscar.

Oscar, the character, and the tales of his existence, are all very well done.  Though in the same way the book's structure and modus operandi seem plucked from Marquez, Oscar seems like Ignatius J. Reilly of A Confederacy of Dunces updated for the 1980's.  This is a book that wears its influences on its sleeve--in other ways more obvious than this.  I particularly enjoy the Watchmen references.

Along the way, the story is narrated by Oscar's former college roommate, and ex-boyfriend of his sister Lola.  Lola herself is one of the major characters, and a significant portion of the text is devoted to her, as well as their mother Beli.

Basically, the story starts with Oscar in the early 1980's.  On display right away is the Spanglish and the brash narrative tone--which is a bit unnerving.  A second comment on race, if I may--urban patois is used here not in the typical stereotypical way, but it seems a bit disingenuous.  I'm glad that it is not reserved for the token ghetto character that ambitious society-spanning comedie-humaines must include, but it seems like it's trying too hard to be cool or appeal to a younger generation of readers.  I prefer to excerpt passages that highlight certain great things about a book, but in this instance it's just going to sound really racist if I don't back it up.  On a related note the n-word is used way too breezily.  Okay, maybe this is realistic, but it feels...off....:

"...What's wrong with you? his mother asked.  She was getting ready to go to her second job, the eczema on her hands looking like a messy meal that had set.  When Oscar whimpered, Girls, Moms de Leon nearly exploded.  Tu ta llorando por una muchacha?  She hauled Oscar to his feet by his ear.
Mami, stop it, his sister cried, stop it!
She threw him to the floor.  Dale un galletazo, she panted, then see if the little puta respects you.
If he'd been a different nigger he might have considered the galletazo.  It wasn't just that he didn't have no kind of father to show him the masculine ropes, he simply lacked all aggressive and martial tendencies.  (Unlike his sister, who fought boys and packs or morena girls who hated her thin nose and straightish hair.) Oscar had like a zero combat rating; even Olga and her toothpick arms could have stomped him silly.  Aggression and intimidation was out of the question.  So he thought it over.  Didn't take him long to decide.  After all, Maritza was beautiful and Olga was not; Olga sometimes smelled like pee and Maritza did not.  Maritza was allowed over their house and Olga was not.  (A puertorican over here? his mother scoffed.  Jamas!) His logic as close to the yes/no math of insects as a nigger could get.  He broke up with Olga the following day on the playground, Maritza at his side, and how Olga had cried!  Shaking like a rag in her hand-me-downs and in the shoes that were four sizes too big!  Snots pouring out her nose and everything!" (14-15)

In a way, I can see how people find this tone to be charming, and sometimes it is very funny and more entertaining than not.  It keeps the action moving along.  It is "energetic."  But I need to look up what galletazo means to get it--sort of.  Like, I get it eventually, but this story is really made for a person that has a more innate understanding of the DR experience.  And I get that Dominicans are dark-skinned and the n-word is not confined to the African-American experience, but it feels unnecessary to me--this is probably a cultural thing though.

There are footnotes, and these usually provide background on the political history of the Dominican Republic.  In my humble opinion, these are some of the best parts of the book.  I'm not sure if they are made-up or actually true--most likely a "magical realism" blend--but they're great stories, told well (even with the sometimes unsettling narrative tone).  I had never heard of Trujillo previous to reading this, so in that sense, the book expanded my worldview.  Moreover, perhaps because I feel this way about the historical elements, my favorite chapter was the 5th, which concerns Oscar's heretofor-mysterious grandfather, Abelard.  For me, this was one of the finest moments of the novel.  On a personal note, I may have felt this way because I experienced a reversal in my employment situation around the time I read it, and certain details felt prescient:

"What followed is still, to this day, hotly disputed.  There are those who swear on their mothers that when Abelard finally opened the trunk he poked his head inside and said, Nope, no bodies here.  This is what Abelard himself claimed to have said.  A poor joke, certainly, but not 'slander' or 'gross calumny.'  In Abelard's version of the events, his friends laughed, the bureau was secured, and off he drove to his Santiago apartment, where Lydia was waiting for him (forty-two and still lovely and still worried shitless about his daughter).  The court officers and their hidden 'witnesses,' however, argued that something quite different happened, that when Dr. Abelard Luis Cabral opened the trunk of the Packard, he said, Nope, no bodies here, Trujillo must have cleaned them out for me.
End quote." (234-235)

There are also chapters featuring Lola and Beli, and one that is apparently written by Lola.  As one wades through the text, it can be jarring, and even though it comes together eventually, I'm not sure of the purpose (at least of the chapter that Lola narrates).

The ending of the book is both triumphant and maddening.  The reader will likely be stirred and uplifted by Oscar's redemption, but personally I don't understand why he needs to take his trip.  There is the nice motif of the sugar cane fields, but Oscar's actions also appear senseless to me.

Far be it from me to criticize a book that is not a series of sexual escapades, but rather a series of unrequited love-scapades, and featuring a main character named Oscar in 2007, but I do not buy the ending.  Oscar has transformed into a different person by the end of the novel, and one that appears readily capable of overcoming his "pathetic" nature.  So I do not buy that he needs to take the trip.  And I do not buy that he would act so recklessly in the face of such visceral threats.  Regardless, the setting is the occasion for my favorite line in the book, even though I've never been an RPG gamer or D&D wizard:

"What the fuck, Oscar, I said on the phone.  I leave you alone for a couple days and you almost get yourself slabbed?
His voice sounded muffled.  I kissed a girl, Yunior.  I finally kissed a girl.
But, O, you almost got yourself killed.
It wasn't completely egregious, he said.  I still had a few hit points left." (305)

In sum, this is an original book whose influences are worn on its sleeve.  It does feel "energetically" written and I can see why people like it.  It's not the best book of the 21st century though.  It's not aiming for that.  I liked it, even a lot at times, but I think it will be best appreciated by those with a better working knowledge of Spanish.  And big fat dorks that live in the ghetto.

V for Vendetta - Dir. James McTeigue (2005)

V for Vendetta (2005)

Dir. James McTeigue

F for Fake

by

Jack Knorps

This will be short.  Sometimes I like to review the films made from the books I review.  I watched V for Vendetta last night and I just have to say a few things about it.

My #1 complaint about this film is that it takes serious artistic liberties with the source material.  Here are all of the things I can remember that were different from the book:

In the very first scene, Evey Hammond is not trying to prostitute herself, but is looking for her "uncle," which makes the scene with the Fingermen much more hackneyed.  She does not work in a sweat shop, but instead works for a news program.  There is no radio program, as in the book, but it is changed to this news program.  Derek Almond and his wife Rosemary do not exist in the film.  The leader, Adam Susan, has had his named changed to Adam Sutler.  Dascomb does not work for the radio program, but is still part of Norsefire, and does not die.  Ally Harper, the Scottish crime boss, does not exist.  Gordon Dietrich is not a petty thief, but a TV personality who hosts a variety show.  Lewis Prothero does not go insane, traumatized by the burning of his dolls--he just gets killed.  "Old Bailey" is blown up at the beginning--not Parliament, which gets blown up at the end.  V does not take out the surveillance system of England, but instead ships hundreds of thousands of masks for people to wear and escape detection.  Oh, also Finch doesn't take LSD and "kill" V.  

Now I did not think the book was truly that amazing, but I felt the film would have been better if it had stuck more closely to it.  I can't think of any reason why so much was changed except that this is more "accessible" for American audiences/2005 audiences.  

This really isn't a terrible film, to be honest, but it's one that you can't really enjoy after reading the book (in my opinion).  I do think Natalie Portman does a very good job at playing Evey Hammond, and think Hugo Weaving makes for an excellent V.  I also enjoyed Stephen Fry as Roger Dietrich--that was the only change that I think was an improvement over the book (as Dietrich is not very well developed in the book).  There is also a nice "aha moment" when John Hurt first appears as Adam Sutler, who is obviously modeled after "Big Brother."  Most viewers probably won't know that Hurt played Winston Smith in the film adaptation of 1984, so this is a nice (albeit troubling) bit of casting.  (Still, I prefer Adam Susan in the book to Adam Sutler in the movie, because Susan is less of a cookie-cutter totalitarian leader).  

The most noteworthy sequence--where Evey is tortured and has her head shaved--is 100% true to the book.  Maybe this is why it's one of the best parts of the film too.  Valerie Harper's story is beautifully evoked on film, and you can also chart the time differentials from the adaptation (it's not a dystopian 1997/1998, but more like 2018 or so).  Some of the shots from this sequence seem directly lifted from the page--and this is where adaptations of graphic novels can be nearly as powerful as their source material.

But the climax of the film is false as compared to the book.  The entire film itself is relatively dark, but a lot of times it just seems "cartoony."  I found the ending to be rather sugar-coated in comparison with the book.

Basically that is all I wanted to say.  And while I think the adaptation of Watchmen has nothing on the book--I found that much more faithful, and a better film overall.  I am a bit shocked that this film's rating on IMDB is 8.2 and that it is rated the #148 film out of the top 250.  It also got a 73% rating on Rotten Tomatoes.  By contrast, Watchmen is at 65% on Rotten Tomatoes and a 7.6 on IMDB.  Regardless, the films serve their purpose.  While Alan Moore may not watch them, most people that read either one will probably have their curiosity piqued just enough to check them out.  Thus, like Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, The Hunger Games et al., on a much smaller scale, these films turn the story into an even more successful "product."  Unfortunately they also detract from its artistic cache.  In today's world though, it seems likely that most writers/artists would rather produce the next Divergent than the next Watchmen.  We're all just too damn poor.  

V for Vendetta - Alan Moore & David Lloyd (with Steve Whitaker and Siobhan Dodds) (1982 - 1989)

V for Vendetta, like many other feature-length comic and graphic novels, is not an easy thing to review.  The easiest point of comparison is Watchmen, since they are probably Alan Moore's two most famous works.  From this perspective it is easy to sum up my feelings: while it is a very good story, it is just no Watchmen.  That said I still think it is worth reading and I am looking forward to seeing the film, even though Moore disavows it.  For some reason I think it will be better than the Watchmen adaptation, though I have read that the film portrays the protagonist as a "freedom fighter," which makes sense for Hollywood, but which is also the wrong move.  I suppose I should explain the plot.

The story opens with a young girl who is trying to prostitute herself for the first time.  She doesn't really know what she is doing, and the man she solicits quickly tries to take advantage of her.  He is joined by other men who are part of "The Finger," which is the police force of the totalitarian British society in 1997.  They surround the girl (whose name is Evey) and she is rescued by a figure in a mask.  The men are killed, and Evey and her savior go to a rooftop where they watch the Houses of Parliament explode.  Then there are fireworks in the sky.  The savior says, "I did that."

It would get way too tedious to explain everything that happens, but after this scene Evey is taken to a secret hideaway and her savior explains that his (her?) name is "V."  V never takes off the mask, which is a Guy Fawkes mask.

Now I think the most interesting way to write this review is to write about the mask and the Occupy movement and Anonymous.  But before we get to that, what is my criticism?

Basically, this is a very good story.  The writing is sharp, and the political situation that the novel (I'm just going to call it a graphic novel because that's the form it was in when I read it) describes is just creative enough to be unique.  It certainly bears similarity to Nazi Germany, or Orwell's 1984, but it is Moore's England of the late 90's.  Like Watchmen with its dystopian New York City in 1985, the depiction does not seem all that far from reality, though underneath it is obviously very unsettling.

I couldn't pin down what the problem was with this book until I read the Wikipedia page.  Now, I had a pretty good idea of everything that happened in the story, but about midway through, I started to get lost.  The problem with this story is that there are too many characters and it is way too hard to keep track of everything that is happening to them.  This issue becomes most pronounced around pages 142 and 143, where a woman hides in an alley to shoot a man who killed her lover.  I basically had no idea what was happening for the next forty pages.

But then it does become clear, eventually, and by the end of the book the reader should have a pretty good idea of what's happened.  But in order to fully to understand every nuance, you need to pay very close attention.  You might even need to take notes to keep track of all the characters.  I don't think normal people take notes to understand books they read, so there is my criticism.  If you read the Wikipedia page, that should clarify the storyline a great deal, but it will also highlight what I didn't realize about the book until finishing it: this is not really V's story.

This is really the story of everyone that is working in the British government.  Sure, it is V's story too (you find out about V's past), but seriously that seems to account for about 10-15% of the content.   Much of this is Evey's story, but much of it is also Eric Finch's story.  Finch is probably the most sympathetic character that works for the government, but he also plays an antagonistic role in the climax of the story.  In this sense, he is ambiguous.

But so is V.  Portraying V as a "freedom fighter" in the film really simplifies how the audience should react to the character.  V is, in fact, a terrorist.  But a terrorist against a totalitarian society.  He is not evil, but the things he does to Evey sometimes cross the line into torture.  So it is really Evey that is the "conscience" of the book--the protagonist that seems to have a clearly humanistic view of what is right and wrong.  Her description of the way that England came to be is also one of the high points of the book (Kennedy is also oddly President as in Red Son):

"I was only seven, but I remember when the news came over the radio.  Dad kept telling Mum not to worry.  He was scared to death...It was about Poland and the Russians, wasn't it?  And President Kennedy said he'd use the bomb if they didn't get out.  That's what Dad told me...It was horrible.  Nobody knew if Britain would get bombed out or not.  I remember Mum saying 'Africa's not there anymore!'  That's all she said...I though about all the lions and elephants being dead.  It made me cry.  I was only seven....But Britain didn't get bombed.  Not that it made much difference.  All the bombs and things had done something to the weather.  Something bad...I remember one day Dad called Mum and me into the back bedroom.  He said he wanted to show us something...We could see right across London from the bedroom window.  It was nearly all under water.  The Thames Barrier had burst....The sky was all yellow and black.  I've never seen a sky like it.  Dad said London was finished and he wanted to take Mum and me to the country...Mum wouldn't go.  Just as well, I suppose.  It turned out that the countryside was worse than the towns.  The weather had destroyed all the crops, see?  And there was no food coming from Europe, because Europe had gone.  Like Africa...I-I didn't like to think about the next four years.  We'd got together with some neighbours in a protection committee.  It didn't help much....There was no food.  And the sewers were flooded and everybody got sick.  Mum died in 1991.  Dad wouldn't let me see her...There were riots, and people with guns.  Nobody knew what was going on.  Everyone was waiting for the government to do something...But there wasn't any government anymore.  Just lots of little gangs, all trying to take over.  And then in 1992, somebody finally did...It was all the fascist groups, the right-wingers.  They'd all got together and with some of the big corporations that had survived.  'Norsefire' they called themselves...I remember when they marched into London.  They had a flag with their symbol on.  Everyone was cheering.  I thought they were scary.  They soon got things under control.  But then they started taking people away...All the black people and the Pakistanis...White people, too.  All the radicals and the men who, you know, liked other men, the homosexuals.  I don't know what they did with them all...Dad had been in a Socialist group when he was younger.  They came for him one September morning in 1993...It was my birthday.  I was twelve.  I never saw him again....They made me go and work in a factory with a lot of other kids.  We were putting matches into boxes...I lived in a hostel.  It was cold and dirty and I just used to cry all the time.  I wanted my dad....That's how it was for four years...Not enough food, not enough money.  Some of the older girls made money going with men.  That's what I was going to do, last night.  But they were Fingermen.  Thy were going...They were g-going to...They were going to ruh...ruh...ruh..." (27-28)

There is also a very funny panel on page 64 where V is reading V by Thomas Pynchon.  V is obsessed with the letter and Moore does an excellent job of incorporating this motif into the book.

One of the other high points comes when V takes over the television network that appears to be the only option for people to watch.  Another comes when he turns London into "the land of do as you please" where anarchy is now the rule:

"Good evening, London.  This is the voice of fate.  Almost four hundred years ago tonight, a great citizen made a most significant contribution to our common culture.  It was a contribution forged in stealth and silence and secrecy, although it is best remembered in noise and bright light. To commemorate this most glorious of evenings, her Majesty's government is pleased to return the rights of secrecy and privacy to you, its loyal subjects.  For three days, your movements will not be watched...Your conversations will not be listened to...And 'do what though wilt' shall be the whole of the law.  God bless you...and goodnight." (186-187)

Ultimately there is a reasonably satisfying climax to the story, but I couldn't fully appreciate it because I still didn't really understand it all until I read the Wikipedia page.  Again, V for Vendetta is just not as good as Watchmen, so don't go into it with such high expectations.  Regardless, it is a quality read, and if you pay really close attention you might get more out of it than I did.  I have the film on hold at the Chicago Public Library and I have been waiting for its delivery for more than two weeks now.  I'm not expecting a lot out of it, but I still think the source material is good enough to make for a special movie.

But yes, let's be honest here, V for Vendetta is not famous for its story anymore so much as the Guy Fawkes mask.  Alan Moore and David Lloyd have said that they are happy that the mask has become associated with modern protest movements, but what intrigues me is, why has it been adopted?  Is it because of V for Vendetta, or is it because of the original Guy Fawkes?  Of course, I think it is because the film adaptation (sad as it is) put it back in the public consciousness.

The 5th of November is now, actually, a day I will look forward to as perhaps if there is going to be a revolution, it will happen then.  Ironically, Amazon and Time Warner have made a ton of money off this mask, as it it the top-selling mask in their inventory, and as Time Warner owns the rights to it and is paid a commission on each one sold.  So really, it is not the best way to lead an anarchist revolution.  It's just commercial like everything else.  But people know what it means, basically, and the fact that it communicates a message is valuable.

We don't live in an outwardly totalitarian society run by Norsefire, but we are certainly watched.  I remember when I worked at City of Chicago Department of Law and they told us that if you walked around the Loop for about thirty minutes, your face would be on enough cameras that they can run facial recognition software on you and identify you in thirty seconds.  Sadly, they do not have cameras on sidestreets in Logan Square where just last week someone smashed a car window and stole something.  It would be nice if surveillance were used to catch thieves and not make everyone paranoid that they need to be "acting normally" at all times that they may be on camera.  It would also be nice if there were greater transparency in the job search process when we live in an era of economic desperation.  But we don't live in the land of do-as-you-please.  My hope is that someday soon we'll come closer to that, though.

(Warren in 2016!)

Batman: Dark Victory - Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale

The cover shows Batman and Robin--Batman with his fist out and Robin carrying a rope.  Dark Victory  is 388 pages long, and the first sign of Robin does not appear until page 235.  Thus the cover of Dark Victory is somewhat misleading: one expects it to be the story of how Robin and Batman met and joined forces, but this is really just a minor tangent of the story.  Dark Victory is best viewed as the sequel to The Long Halloween and, as such, should be compared to it.  For this book does not live up to the standards of The Dark Knight Returns, The Killing Joke, Red Son, or Watchmen--the four graphic novels that I have decided represent the pinnacles of the medium.  It is on par with The Long Halloween, and I would state that it is slightly better, because there is only one inconceivable plot twist at the end, rather than several.

The prologue picks up where The Long Halloween left off--essentially retelling the story of the serial killer "Holiday."  We see Holiday in Arkham Asylum being interviewed by the new Gotham District Attorney, Janice Porter.  Porter wants to reopen Holiday's case on the grounds that the police committed a violation of the 8th amendment in their capture of him (he endured "quite a beating").  Commissioner Gordon does not think this is wise but the D.A does not need his approval to reopen the case.  Batman shows up right after and Gordon says, "I miss him."  Batman says, "Don't."

Chapter 1, "War" recreates a scene that is by now, more than familiar: Batman's origin story.  However we also see Carmine "The Roman" Falcone tell a young Bruce Wayne that his father saved his life, and that if he ever needed a favor, he knew who to call.  We then see a major character in Dark Victory, Sofia Falcone Gigante, "The Roman's" daughter.  Members from another crime family, the Maronis, are present in this sort of funereal ceremony.  Batman is watching and Selina Kyle is inside.  The place gets busted up, but nobody "big" is captured by Gordon.  We then see Selina Kyle visit Bruce Wayne while he is swimming in his pool, accompanied by another member of the Falcone family.  We then see Janice Porter visit Gordon again:

"District Attorney Janice Porter.  As a result of Harvey Dent's removal from office, the City Council moved quickly to replace him.  Harvard Law, top of her class.  Six years as D.A. in Boston.  A lot of experience in a short amount of time.  But Boston is not Gotham City." (35)

So at least we know that (it's not Chicago, either, which is where Gordon came from).

We also see the Gotham City Bridge on page 42 and it looks a lot like the Brooklyn Bridge.  Also, remember a key scene from The Dark Knight Rises--Gotham City is unmistakably New York City.  And it is with deep regret that I must take a moment from this review and state that I will not be able to  film Batman in Brooklyn because I will be leaving this place in about a month.  It is with a very heavy heart that I announce this, but instead we will have to move forward with Back to the Future Part 2: Present, which will star my younger brother in Michael J. Fox's multiple roles in that film, and I will play Doc.  If anyone wants to make Batman in Brooklyn, however, I will gladly help to produce the film and help with the screenwriting.  Moving on...

Shortly after this (still on "War") it is Halloween night--the one year anniversary of "The Roman's" death.  Amazingly, we see Batman visit Two-Face in Arkham Asylum, during which mayhem ensues.  Poison Ivy makes an appearance, "Holday" stays in his cell even though the glass has been shattered, and Two-Face escapes.  Then, the scene shifts to a courtroom, where Judge Harkness allows "Holiday" to be kept under house arrest with an electronic monitor kept on his leg at all times.  Then we see that one police officer has been hanged, and many of Harvey Dent's files have been stolen from the D.A.'s office.  Attached to the hanged policeman's chest is a note, with a drawing of the children's game Hangman:

"N_NE _F Y__ _RE S_FE" (64)

The next chapter, "Secrets" involves Batman's attempt to solve the riddle by asking, who else, The Riddler.  We then see what happens to former Commissioner Loeb.  At this point, I am going to stop with the plot retelling because I do not want to spoil the rest.  Suffice to say that The Long Halloween is about a series of unsolved murders of members of crime families, and Dark Victory is about a series of unsolved murders of police officers.  In a sense this makes it like Year One, but that is more about Batman's first forays into crime-fighting and police corruption.  Dark Victory is sort of like all of these books mashed up into one--with Robin as the defining element, as noted on the cover.

All villains in the rogue's gallery make appearances: Poison Ivy, Joker, Catwoman, Riddler, Two-Face, Solomon Grundy, the Calendar Man, Scarecrow and notably, Mr. Freeze.   But this is really about the crime families.  And it is really about The Long Halloween, or a new way to interpret that book.

There is a great scene where Harvey Dent represents himself in court, and when asked if he swears to tell the truth he says, "I can't answer that question...because I'm not Harvey Dent.  The name is Two-Face."  (304)

There is also a nice little tidbit that Janice Porter went to Gotham University Law School while Harvey Dent was a young professor there, and that she transferred to Harvard.  In her Harvard yearbook it reads "Voted most likely to be D.A.  Favorite subject: criminal law."

Brooklyn Law School will not be putting out a yearbook this year, sadly.  I would like to put this under my picture if it did: "Voted most likely to be the first Supreme Court justice with a mediocre performance in law school; favorite subject: bankruptcy."  Of course our school does not take such votes, probably because few people know a majority of their 477 classmates.  Harvard is even bigger, and I would be interested to know if they publish such a yearbook (I have my doubts).

Before we conclude, it is worth noting in passing that Batman "sees himself" in Robin and initially is not really cool with the idea of having a sidekick.  Mostly we see Alfred supervising Dick Grayson (who is about 13--maybe slightly younger than his female version in The Dark Knight Returns), but Batman does offer a few words:

"Dick Grayson has been living in Wayne Manor.  It has been a...difficult transition.  For both of us.  And I cannot help but wonder if I have made a mistake by interceding in the boy's life.  My attention has been splintered.  I will find out who killed Dick's parents.  He needs that closure.  But, tonight is a holiday and I am needed elswhere." (264-265)

Later, Batman reveals his true identity to Dick Grayson and it signals the moment in which their partnership will begin.

That's most of what I wanted to say about this book.  It's a quality read (and as always, the illustration is fantastic) but it's not an example of the height of the genre.  There may be still another sequel to this book (Haunted Knight?) and I would gladly read it, though I would not have high expectations.

As a final note I do not think the Superman franchise was catapulted into the same league as the Batman franchise by its most recent film.  I did not see it, but the popularity at the box office is the barometer by which I measure the popularity of the superheroes.  Red Son should be made into a movie--THAT would be AWESOME.  But I don't think the world is ready for that yet.

The Long Halloween and Dark Victory could be made into movies, but they'd be too complicated.  And  I recently watched an animated film of Batman: Year One which was a very faithful and quality adaptation of the book.  But I don't think there's enough material for a movie--or at least people might not be as interested in it, because I really believe Jim Gordon is the protagonist of that book, and not Batman.  Still (since Batman in Brooklyn is on indefinite hiatus) The Dark Knight Returns could be made and I have very little doubt that it would do every bit as well at the box office as any of the three recent films (if not better).

Batman: Arkham Asylum (A Serious House on a Serious Earth) - Grant Morrison & Dave McKean

Arkham Asylum is a tough nut to crack.  On the one hand, it is a brilliant examination of mental illness and the violence that can flow from insanity.  On the other, it collapses under its own weight and fails to live up to its potential.  This may be so because it tries to cram as many Batman Villains (led by the Joker) as it can into one fairly concise story.  As the Joker explains, Batman is given one hour to escape from Arkham Asylum after he has entered by way of invitation:

"'Time to begin the evening's entertainment, I think.  If you're feeling up to it.'
'Up to what?'
'A nice little game of hide and seek.  You have one hour, sweetheart and there's no way out of the building.  One hour before all your friends come looking for you.  There's the Scarecrow and Clayface and Doctor Destiny, of course.  He seems so frail in that wheelchair but all he has to do is look at you and you stop being real.  He does so want to look at you darling.  Oh, and don't let's forget Croc.  He came up out of that damp, dark cellar this morning, dragging his chains behind him.  They all want to see you, so why don't you just run along now?'" (23-24)

Not mentioned by the Joker but included in this book are Maxie Zeus (who seems like a demented version of Dr. Manhattan from Watchmen), Professor Milo, the Mad Hatter, Black Mask, and Two-Face.  And I must admit that, like The Long Halloween, the best parts of this book involve Harvey Dent.

I count 9 Batman Villains in The Long Halloween, and I thought that book felt was short at 370 pages.  This is even shorter (120 pages), includes 10 villains, and eschews page numbers that make for easy excerpt searching (though there are nice "extras" with the book that includes a black-and-white script of all the text, which will be referred to for this review) and it is necessary to say word or two about the drawing style.

The Long Halloween has fairly typical illustration for a Batman book, and I enjoyed it.  Arkham Asylum, by contrast, is probably the most shocking Batman book for its visual style.  Everything seems blurry and bloody and if the reader is on Amanita Mushrooms or something then they may be tempted to see things in the pictures that aren't really there (or maybe they are really there, and the artist, Dave McKean, has hidden them in such a way that the reader questions themselves).  One could imagine that this renders Arkham Asylum a triumph of the graphic novel form, and while this book is at times brilliant, one simply cannot say that the book is "highly recommended" if the second half of it collapses under the weight of its first half.

That is how I feel about this book in a nutshell.  The first half is wonderful, and the second half is a crazy collection of action, Tales of the Black Freighter-esque literature-within-literature, and a tidy ending that renders everything that came before almost meaningless.

There are good moments in the second half, such as the Clayface/Scarecrow/Mad Hatter triple threat that bombards Batman one-by-one at the height of the action, or the ending that involves a decision made by Two-Face, but Arkham Asylum would have benefited by extrapolating more background information on the "Rogue's Gallery."  Clayface and Destiny, for example, are quite interesting, but they are left behind shortly after their introduction, as are most of the other villains.  The result is a story that would be a perfect template for a theme park ride (much better than say, "The Dark Knight" at Six Flags) in a sort of reverse-Pirates-of-the-Carribean situation, but fails as a work of literature.  As a "comic book," it is all well and good, but the story is not unsettling in quite the same way as The Dark Knight Returns (or Red Son or Watchmen, for that matter).

I also don't think I am exaggerating the level of sophistication that went into its production:

"The subtitle was taken from Philip Larkin's poem 'Church Going.'  The story's themes were inspired by Lewis Carroll, quantum physics, Jung and Crowley, its visual style by surrealism, Eastern European creepiness, Cocteau, Artaud, Svankmajer, the Brothers Quay, etc.  The intention was to create something that was more like a piece of music or an experimental film than a typical comic adventure book.  I wanted to approach Batman from the point of view of the dreamlike, emotional and irrational hemisphere, as a response to the very literal, 'realistic' 'left brain' treatment of superheroes which was in vogue at the time, in the wake of The Dark Knight Returns, Watchmen, and others." (preface to script)

Will you enjoy Arkham Asylum if you like Batman comic books in general?  Probably.  Is it as good as The Killing Joke?  Not by a long-shot.  That was a shorter story, dense and concisely-packed into a neat package.  However, I wouldn't buy The Killing Joke (in hardcover at least) because of its length.  You can read it in one sitting at Barnes & Noble.  The same goes for Arkham Asylum and I bought it off Amazon.

If you are interested in horror or the macabre, this actually might be your favorite Batman book.  But I am personally more interested in comedy and drama and imaginative excess.  This book has moments of dark humor and a dramatic moment or two--and it certainly shows some imagination in the telling of Dr. Arkham's back story--which is probably the strongest element of the book.  And it even pays reference to Batman's often debated homosexuality, when the Joker squeezes Batman's butt and then says, "What's the matter?  Have I touched a nerve?  How is the Boy Wonder?  Started shaving yet?" (14)

But unfortunately it is just not enough.  In short, it opens up like a bat out of a hell (terrible cliche and pun, I know, but accurate) and then whimpers its way through its second half.  Just when all the fun is supposed to begin, the reader might ask themselves what all of the fuss is about this book.

Regardless, I didn't consider reading this book a waste of time--I would just not want to drum up any unrealistic expectations of its greatness.

Superman: Red Son - Mark Millar, Dave Johnson, Killian Plunkett, Andrew Robinson, and Walden Wong

Superman: Red Son is a three-part graphic novel/comic book that is on par with The Dark Knight Returns or The Killing Joke, and nearly rises to the heights of Watchmen.  In short, while I hasten to note that my education in comics is still pretty elementary, this must stand among the best comics ever done.  It may be that I am more obsessed with Batman at the moment and so have not given Superman my fair attention--but it seems to me that Red Son is not as highly-touted as either of the above-two mentioned Batman comics.  This is a mistake and more people need to know that this is out there (of course I may be extremely ignorant and this may be common knowledge to even the most casual reader of comics--but I have to believe I am more objective than that and have a realistic understanding of the common knowledge of mass culture: if this story was part of it, then it boggles the mind that it had not been turned into a movie--there were rave reviews of the new Man of Steel trailer and one hopes the film will incorporate elements of this book's tone).

Where Watchmen has an alternate version of 1985 with Richard Nixon still President, Red Son has an alternate version of 1978 with John F. Kennedy still President (and with Nixon assassinated in 1963).  Batman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern all show up, and Lex Luthor becomes basically the greatest American hero of all time.  The creativity in the book is summed up nicely in a quick conversation between Superman and Wonder Woman as they are flying through the air:

"'So, how was America?'
'Disgusting, Superman.  Absolutely disgusting.  It's Nineteen Seventy-Eight and children are still sleeping in the streets over there.  Why does Kennedy cling to this capitalist dogma when it's quite clearly tearing his country apart?'
'Pride, I suppose.  He'll come around eventually.'
'I told him he should devote more time to his crumbling economy and less to those painted movie stars he seems to pursue with such vigor.  That country has never been the same since Nixon was assassinated in Nineteen Sixty-Three.  I still maintain that was the beginning of the end for them.'" (75)

In the introduction to the book, Tom Desanto writes that Red Son is "a sharp social commentary on capitalism vs. communism and current American foreign policy."  That gets it about right.  It is really amazing what insights can be made when a classic comic book is re-imagined from the perspective of the Other.  Superman basically becomes a totalitarian leader, and Batman symbolizes the underground rebellion.  Lex Luthor saves America from economic ruin and re-establishes capitalism as the global norm, but all in an effort just to destroy Superman, and with the irony that his end goal of perfectionism of the human race is basically the same as Superman's vision but under a different name.

There is much more I could say about this book in terms of plot, but like the review for Watchmen, that would spoil much of the fun of reading it.  It is just worth reiterating that the entire DC Universe is perfectly accommodated by the story.  It is hilarious at times and profound at others, and the ending is masterfully done.  Perhaps one day in the future this will be made into a movie, but I am afraid that it would require enormous resources and be difficult for a studio head to get behind--even though this subject matter is not really "controversial" anymore, it may be regarded as an extremely subversive plot line.  Regardless, like Watchmen it is hard to imagine that a movie could match up to the experience of reading the book itself.  I read it in about two days and it was nice to be reminded that I can still be blown away by something that hasn't been hyped to death.

Watchmen - Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons

Who reads Watchmen? 

Undoubtedly many people do.  If, for some reason, you have not heard of Watchmen, it is likely that you hang around with non-artist types, or other assorted individuals that do not find value in the graphic novel medium.  And if you have been denied exposure to this book, it is unlikely that you will ever read it.  And if you never read this book, you will have just avoided one of the most creative works of art of the 20^th century. 

That may sound like undue praise, but the cover to the book goes further (“One of Time’s 100 best novels”). 

Watchmen’s two-decade legacy was tested by its film adaption in 2009.  I saw that film in 2010 before I had read the book.  At the time, I felt that the film was overlong, but that certain moments in the film exhibited striking originality—most especially, in the sequence that tells the origin story of Dr. Manhattan.  But on the whole, the movie cannot do justice to the book.  It is not a bad movie.  Zack Snyder probably did about as good a job adapting the book into a 162 minute spectacle as practicable.  Originally, Terry Gilliam was attached to the project, but later dropped out, deciding that the book would be better filmed as a five hour miniseries.  I am easily tempted to agree with that conclusion. 

The two major criticisms I can make of the film are the performances and—an accusation that no doubt holds true for all novels turned into films—the great parts that got left out.  It is not that any of the actors are bad, but Watchmen is a very strange work of art in its tone.  Sometimes, the book is just flat-out hilarious.  There are moments where the cynicism is so severe that the humor branches out into territory seldom ventured.  Moreover, the characters do not always take themselves so seriously.  At the end of the day they realize they are all somewhat antisocial recluses who like to put on costumes and run around and catch bad guys.  The movie could lead the viewer to believe that they take themselves totally seriously, and this would be a huge misinterpretation.  

To be sure, this book contains scenes and moments of unmistakable genius, sheer creativity, and true profundity.  The movie attempts to engage the viewer in some of those moments that only the reader will be able to fully appreciate, but in so doing, almost all of the humor and “radicalism” of the book are lost in a morass self-proclaimed greatness.  And while most of the major scenes (along with the best scenes) are contained in the film, the small details that make Watchmen such a treasure of a book must inevitably be left out in any film version.  The most glaring omission from the film is the exposition of the Tales of the Black Freighter comic book.  While honestly I felt that this was the weakest element of the book—indeed the most striking case of the peripheral niceties overshadowing the exciting main story—this is likely a literary trope that is practically impossible to film without losing a viewer’s interest or deeply unsettling their expectations.  Tales of the Black Freighter will be addressed later but the failure to account for it is the biggest “gap” between the movie and film.  Also missing are the literary interludes and fictional documents between chapters, which, conversely, contain some of the greatest moments in the book.

  

The plot deserves little comment but should be briefly noted: the Comedian (a.k.a. Eddie Blake) has been murdered.  Rorschach (a.k.a. would-be-a-spoiler) investigates, starting October 12, 1985.  He goes to Nite Owl (a.k.a. Daniel Dreiberg), Dr. Manhattan (a.k.a. Jon Osterman), Sally Jupiter (a.k.a. Laurie Juspeczyk), and Ozymandias (a.k.a. Adrian Veidt) to inform them of the killing and to warn them that they may be next.  

The plot of the book is very straightforward, but immaculately paced.  Each of the characters' back stories emerge in a complex interwoven narrative, supplanted by the interludes between chapters.  It is complex in that Nite Owl and Sally Jupiter were members of the Minutemen (along with the Comedian, and other costumed vigilantes such as Hooded Justice, the Silk Spectre, Captain Metropolis, Mothman) who "passed their titles" onto a younger admirer and a daughter, respectively.  The book is, arguably, just as much about the Minutemen as it is the Watchmen.  The plot is essentially a search for the person behind the killing, and the meaning of it.  Later, Moloch, the "arch-nemesis" of the Watchmen (or Minutemen), who is now an elderly man dying of cancer, tells Rorschach that the Comedian came into his bedroom one night, apparently drunk and babbling on about some kind of island.  Later, the author of Tales of the Black Freighter goes missing, and this is where that narrative strand is finally tied together.

And this is essentially the genius of the book.  Everything is perfectly connected together.  Moore peppers a variety of cultural references into the book so that it all becomes a disturbing mirror of reality--an "alternative" 1985.  One of the two dueling newspapers reporting on the cataclysmic events that befall the world is called Nova Express, and the influence of William S. Burroughs is apparent.  He is even directly referenced at one point (I am sure of it, though I cannot find it--one of the problems with quoting passages from a graphic novel).  Regardless, I have to say that Moore succeeds with the "cut-up" method in a way that I never was able to fully appreciate in Burroughs.  In his books, the narratives fall prey to the weird nonsensical prose--but here, where the narrative strands are disconnected, they are artfully re-assembled in such a way that perhaps you cannot call it a "cut-up" anymore.  

In any case, the writing is excellent.  For example, Rorschach's "voice" is indelible, and his journal entries are always a pleasure:

"October 16th, 1985: 42nd Street: Women's breasts draped across every billboard, every display, littering the sidewalk.  Was offered Swedish and French love...but not American love.  American love; like Coke in green glass bottles.  They don't make it anymore.  Thought about Moloch's story on way to cemetery.  Could all be lies.  Could all be part of revenge scheme, planned during his decade behind bars.  But if true, then what?  Puzzling reference to an island.  Also to Dr. Manhattan.  Might he be at risk on some way?  So many questions.  Never mind.  Answers soon.  Nothing in insoluble.  Nothing is hopeless.  Not while there's life."  (Chapter II, 25)

Or take a newspaper "interlude" that is dated September 1976:

"PROBE: There was Ursula Zandt, the Silhouette...
SALLY: Uh-huh.  Well, sooner or later, okay, that's going to come up, so let me deal with that...First off, I didn't like her as a person.  I mean, she was not an easy person to get along with.  But, when the papers got hold of it, her being a--what is it--a gay woman they say nowadays, when that happened, I thought it was wrong.  I mean, Laurence, who was my first husband, he got everybody to thew her out of the group to minimize the P.R. damage, but...I mean, I voted along with everybody else, but....well, it wasn't fair.  It wasn't honest.  I mean, she wasn't the only gay person in the Minutemen.  Some professions, I don't know, they attract a certain type....
PROBE: Who else was gay?

SALLY: I'm not naming anybody.  It was a couple of the guys, and they're both dead now.  One died recently.  I'm not saying who it was, I'm just saying that we all knew, and we knew she wasn't the only one, and we slung her out just the same.  When she got murdered like that...I mean, I never really liked her.  Ursula.  Was that her real name?  I didn't know that.  I didn't like her, but...throwing her out.  We shouldn't have done that.  I feel bad about that."  (Chapter IX, 22)

I have made all of the glowing comments I possibly can about this book and will not exhort myself any further because they likely fall on deaf ears: as I said, if you have not already read this book, you will probably never read it.  I came late to the party.  But if you have seen it in your pseudo-artist friend's bookshelves and have had your curiosity piqued, I highly recommend you follow that urge.