Super-stuff

So, the other day I was off at the local library and decided to check out their graphic novel collection*. I haven't made a habit of regularly getting my comics from the library, but I think I will start - the collection is getting broader and the practice would be a nice corollary to my "wait for the trades" policy.

One book I borrowed from the library was Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale's Superman For All Seasons (DC Comics: 1998). This was a book I had seen in its original single-issue format and decided to wait for the collection; once the TPB came out, I looked at it a few times but never picked it up. Having a chance to read it at my leisure for free was all it took!

In the end, I'm glad I waited and waited, because I don't think I would have been satisfied with this purchase. I know there has been a lot of praise heaped upon this work, but I didn't think it was all that successful a piece.

I think I got what Loeb was trying to do - the whole Norman Rockwellization of Kal-El, if you will - and I can appreciate where that approach comes from - showing that Superman might have started as an alien, but has become a naturalized American, through and through. I just think the presentation was a bit heavy-handed, and inaccurate, to boot.

Clark Kent's homespun beginnings and influences - delivered mostly through Pa Kent's ruminations and amplified by the LLs' caption boxes - are just too saccharine and simplistic; I can't imagine getting the moral grounding to deal with near-infinite power from such homely truisms and conventional wisdom. "We each do what we're able to, Clark, some less, some more," Pastor Lindquist tells him. Is that empty homily supposed to help a superman make decisions?

It also bothered me that the Kents seemed so middle-of-the-road; I liked the early, left-leaning, fatcat-bashing Superman of the Golden Age, and always imagined Pa Kent as an old Wobblie with some shady anarchist connections from his early days, who moved to Kansas from West Virginia after the Matewan Massacre or something. And maybe Ma was a suffragette and a socialist. I mean, Clark had to have gotten those political leanings from somewhere. I didn't see any populist or progressive attitudes on display in Smallville.

Sale's art follows along with the story themes very closely - which is to say, a bit over-the-top. I liked the cartoony style and the bulky Clark; that was cool. The Kents teetered on the edge of gnomish, however, and the art direction was all over the map: the faux-forties in Smallville and retro-future in Metropolis I can see, but the seventies Luthor-suits, the oh-so-nineties Toxin (puh-lease), and the contemporary (ballcap-backwards) kid seemed jarringly out-of-place as a result.

Which is not to say Sale didn't do some great stuff anyway and try to develop a consistent visual vocabulary: for example, the composition in this panel, repeated several times, was a great artistic device linking the boy from Smallville to the man in Metropolis.



In any case, the book wasn't bad, I just didn't think it was great. It was certainly several orders of magnitude better then the execrable World of Metropolis, which it resembles structurally.

I'm glad the library had it.

*Way back in the dark ages of 1994 or so, I was instrumental in developing the first specific comics collection in the Seattle Public Library. My branch managing librarian got an allocation for a special collection and let me spend it on comics: I remember buying Maus and Barefoot Gen, but can't recall what the rest of that initial collection comprised.

Have a cuppa coffee with me - at the comic shop!



I needed to get out of the house tonight to make room for an all-girl book club meeting; this being Seattle, of course, I headed for some coffee and wi-fi. However, you won't find me in any S***bucks -- tonight, I'm mixing caffeine and comics books:


Coffee and Comics
1408 NE 45th Street
Seattle, WA

Apparently, this place has been here for over a year, but it just hit my radar recently. With Seattle as coffee-centric as it is and comics-savvy to boot (Fantagraphics is just down the road a piece), I wonder why I didn't figure that we would have a coffee shop focused on comic books.

You could easily overlook this small, hole-in-the-wall joint -- of the kind that usually has the best coffee (they serve good Vivace here). Inside, the wooden bistro tables look to seat ten comfortably, with plenty of power outlets for laptops, and near the front two cushy chairs invite lingering and reading. The menu includes all the usual coffee drinks, tea (including chai), and a very limited selection of muffiny stuff. They also default to ceramic cups for service, and only use paper for to-go orders. Yay, green!



A bookcase of graphic novels and trade paperbacks sits in the corner near the big window, serving as a library and back-issue rack both.



One interior wall is covered with "artist wanted" notices, posters, and local art samples.



Yeah, that's one of Jeph Jacques's Questionable Content cast posters hanging there; here's the detail of a cool sketch that is under it:


(She is saying "knitty gritty.")

Up front near the service counter, a sales rack holds new releases; the shop also does weekly pulls (you might not notice the pull shelves behind the rack -- I didn't -- but the friendly barista, Lola, pointed them out to me.)



The usual phalanx of action figures and figurines stands watch over the comics:



So, I don't know if this will give the Mike Sterling any ideas to start serving espresso, but I'm having a grand time here. Now, if you'll excuse me, my coffee's getting cold.

(Yes, this was real-time blogging. I took all the photos just now and uploaded them here to my laptop. As I press publish, it's 7:55 pm.)