Wily Ourobourus

I’ve got a review of the newish Xasthur album up at metropulse. The first paragraph is one of the better things I’ve written for them, in my opinion anyway:

For centuries, scholars believed that metalness was a straight continuum, with bands like Slayer at the top end and performers like, oh, say, Debussy at the bottom. In recent years, though, researchers have discovered that the truth is somewhat different. Beyond St. Vitus, beyond Celtic Frost, out where the black dooms drone, we now know metal curves, and like a wily ourobourous, takes its tail in its teeth only to discover it’s chomping on the smiling visage of Danny Elfman.

Lions and tigers and bears oh my: Magic Bites by Ilona Andrews

I’ve been a on YA s/f reading kick for a while now. Most of the books I “read” are audiobooks that I listen to while commuting or filing at work, because I have little spare time. One of my recent favorites was the Demon’s Lexicon by Sarah Reese Brennan. I follow her LJ and she wrote a great essay about women in fiction during which she recommended Ilona Andrews’ Magic Bites series.

I picked it up at Borders yesterday (yay coupons!) and gnawed my way through it over lunch breaks. It’s pretty good, and I’m curious to see where the author takes it.

The basic summary is boring: Kate, intrepid heroine, is a magic mercenary in Atlanta, where magic returns in waves from time to time. She’s investigating the death of her guardian, Greg, who died while working for an Order of protective knights. There are two main camps of potential baddies: wereanimals (the Pack) and vampires (actually run by necromancers).

Kate is tough, cold, and friendless, unless you count weapons as friends. She wisecracks and is stubborn, wears her hair in a braid, and acts a lot like early Anita Blake, right down to an uncomfortable dinner date at a fancy restaurant. She keeps a big sword on her back, camouflaged by her braid, and she Fights Crime.

This all seems very stock, but it has a certain charm. For one thing, it’s got a very Russian feel to it. (The main author is Russian; English is her second language, and she writes with her husband.) By which I mean, tons of the old parts of Atlanta are destroyed and they’re going to stay destroyed. It’s a fatalism that I find kind of refreshing. The descriptions of people and actions and places are detailed and rather fast paced. In some ways, it reminds me of a short story, where ideas are paramount. There are many ideas in this book–complex buildings, social structures among monsters, weapons, rituals, powers, types of humans, and they’re tossed in practically every other paragraph. It’s a short book, but very dense. This feels very Russian to me, although others might characterize it as something else.

There are many male characters in the book, and very few female ones (except as victims). There’s some fighting over who gets to date Kate, which I found tiresome. However, the essay I mentioned above indicated that part of the purpose of the series is to overturn the Anita Blake-style tough chick surrounded only by guys trope, so I’m curious to see what happens in future books. As per usual for me, the so-called “pack” dynamics drove me nuts (note to authors: alphas do not always insist on eating first; and when they do, it’s often so they can regurgitate to feed their young. Puppies generally eat first. But whatever.)

One other issue I had may be a personal quirk, because I’ve come across this in other books. You’re in the middle of a tough case; “no one” will believe that things aren’t finished; you’re certain that the killer is out there and may be after you. What do you do? Go to bed and sleep soundly. Baffling. Maybe I’m a workaholic, but I’d be calling around, following up leads, or at least having nightmares. Perhaps librarianship has a stricter work ethic than mercenary detectives.

Juno

Just saw this movie (about a 16-year-old named Juno who gets pregnant and puts the baby up for adoption, if you missed the hype.) It’s not bad; the dialogue is snappy, and the star (Ellen Page) is appealing — she refers to her the effect of her very pregnant presence at school as that of a “cautionary whale” for example. And there are lots of nice moments — at the hospital when she’s about to give birth, for example, Juno begs her step-mom to get her a spinal tap to offset the labor pains. Her step mom (Alison Janey) calls out exasperatedly for a nurse, and in doing so refers to Juno as “my daughter.” It’s a nice moment, emphasizing the movie’s insistence that parenthood is more about love and commitment than it is about biology.

Overall though…I guess the basic problem can be summed up as sit-com quirkiness. Indeed, the movie is insistently, almost desperately quirky; everyone is always spouting pithy one-liners and engaging in telling, charming idiosyncracies (Juno’s boyfriend pops orange breath mints, for example; Juno’s step-mom loves dogs, etc. etc.) But if you look a little closer, those idiosyncracies are mostly deployed in the interest of covering up fairly banal insights and familiar characters. The working class, clueless, but loving dad; the slightly nerdy boyfriend; the teasing dependable best friend…where have I seen this all before?

Worst of all is the adoptive yuppy couple. Vanessa [Jennifer Garner] is uptight and wants a baby. That’s pretty much all there is to her; she’s the quintessential modern woman, striving for the one thing all her success has denied her…motherhood. Over the course of the movie she becomes more sympathetic…but never because she acts or behaves differently, really. Her quest for motherhood is just seen as more and more sincere and worthwhile as we go along. Indeed, you never learn anything about her except that she wants a baby. She never gets any quirky lines, never is blessed with quirky habits; never seems anything but completely uptight. Part of the problem is Jennifer Garner, who is about as responsive as a stick…but the script gives her little to do in any case.

Even worse is Jason Bateman as Mark. Like Garner, Bateman is a dull fish, playing uptight and suburban as unexpressive and flat. He’s also a caricature in any case; a formerly cool musician (he opened for the Melvins!) who now writes advertising jingles, he initially seems kind of cool, and then pitiful and icky as he makes a semi-pass at Juno. Again…where have we seen this before, I wonder? Guys who like rock music must be stunted men-children afraid of grown-up commitment. Also, they want kids less than women do. Who knew?

And then, at the end, we learn it’s all not really a story about giving up your baby for adoption so much as it’s a story about finding your true love. We’re in a John Hughes movie after all. It’s good to know that, even though the man himself is gone, his spirit lives on.

Wiki Trek: “Spock’s Brain”

It really is dreadful. “Brain and brain! What is ‘brain’?” After the brain goes missing, there’s a scene where Kirk, McCoy, and Scotty discuss the problem at hand. The exchange becomes a surrealist exercise just because the term “Spock’s brain” keeps popping up.

A woman is the chief menace, and she can’t strong-arm the men, so she uses a pain device that zaps them. Shatner does some extroverted waltzing with the air and the floorboards to demonstrate his suffering. There’s one scene where the other guys have settled to the ground and Shatner, having also settled, then arches his pelvis to give the moment that last little bit.

For some reason, Spock has to wear overalls. Why? If he’s brainless, would have been simpler to leave him in his old clothes. It’s not like they were going to slide off because he couldn’t keep pulling at them.   

Gene L. Coon wrote the script under duress, to play out his contract with the show after he had moved on to It Takes a Thief. He knocked out “Brain” and “Spectre of the Gun” and some outlines for other eps as fast as he could. “Spectre” wasn’t so bad, but “Brain” … Jesus.

Coon had become fed up with Nimoy’s demands for line rewrites and bigger roles, so maybe “Brain” is his revenge: Spock has to walk around like Frankenstein’s monster for most of the show and gets no lines until the end. He does the automaton walk quite well, which I guess is the sign of a professional. (Counter to my grudge theory, there’s an anecdote about Shatner deliberately turning his back on Coon toward the end of Coon’s time with the show, and yet Shatner does okay in the episode.)

Spock’s brainkeeper. Marj Dusay (b. 1936 in Hays, Kansas as Marjorie Ellen Pivonka Mahoney),was just starting out but went on to work for decades, wound up in the 90s as  a regular on Guiding Light and All My Children. 

 

                    Marj Dusay                                   


  

 

“Spock’s Brain” catches her early on, and she’s game and overeager. She does a lot of reactions, none of them lifelike. But at least she’s in there, tracking all the events with her eyes, doing something with her mouth and nose. You can see how she might hang on and get a soap career later.

IMDB lists 90 acting jobs, starting in 1967 with “Susan” in the episode “Instant Fatherhood” of Occasional Wife, then “Kaos Girl” in a Get Smart ep, then “Waitress” in a Presley film, Clambake (1967), then eps of Cimarron Strip, The Second Hundred Years, someone in Sweet November (1967), the Star Trek, 2 eps of Wild Wild West (different characters), a Felony Squad two-parter, a Bonanza, eps of Hogan’s Heroes and Hawaii Five-O. She kept working thru the ’80s, on primetime soaps, 


Other girls.  This is the other girl with a speaking part, not much of one. IMDB lists seven acting jobs, first is “Salesgirl” in “The Dippy Blonde Affair” (Man from UNCLE, 1966), last is “Secretary #4” in the Beverly Hillbillies ep “Hotel for Women” (1970).

 


 

The two other babes, Mem Alpha doesn’t know who played them. Wig on the first, don’t know about the second:

 

                        

 

 

Wig and beard. Actor’s name was James Daris. IMDB lists 19 credits, earliest being “Burly Man” on I, Spy in 1966.




Fair amount of tv work thru 1975, then a long, long gap, then a tv horror movie called Larva in 2005. Around Trek he was doing “Realtor” in I Dream of Jeannie, “Shorty” in a Bonanza, “Matt” in Daniel Boone, “Super Giant Robot” in Land of the Giants, some guy in a Hawaii Five-O

Big guy.  Stunt man and extra Pete Kellett. IMDB lists six stunt credits, 33 acting. Earliest is in 1949, movie Canadian Pacific, stunts and a part (“Saboteur”). Last is “Security Guard” in The Magic of Lassie (1978). Mem Alpha says, “He performed stunts and made numerous appearances on the Western television series Gunsmoke. Other TV shows on which he appeared include BrandedThe Man from U.N.C.L.E. … Mission: Impossible, Mannix … The Big Valley … and Land of the Giants

Photobucket

 

The unidentified.  No names or lines for the people below. The first has a uniform like Pete Kellett’s because their two characters have been enslaved as guards.


 

I think these guys are kind of pets of the babes:

 

        

 


 


 

And three savage surface dwellers:



 

 


 

Bound to Blog: Wonder Woman #16

This is really an amazing issue. As I intimated in the last post, Marston and Peter seem to be getting more and more adroit at integrating layout and narrative, and there are some absolutely stunning spreads in this issue.

The color here is amazing, and the diaphanous, ghostly bodies really show off Peter’s supple lines. There’s a great contrast, too, between the airy grace of the female figures and the caricatured, cartoony old man (that’s the evil Pluto) at the top of the first page. Peter has also loosened up his layouts again, using bigger and fewer panels, and dividing them up in more varied ways than has been his wont up till now. Also notice in the upper right of the second page, there’s actually a wordless action sequence. I think that’s the first one in the series, and it’s really a joy to see Peter working without all those cumbersome text boxes for once. There’s another wordless sequence later in the comic; hopefully we’ll see more of it in later issues as well.

Also, so many great details here. The weird test tube with those evil black figures lurking around it, all against that gorgeous orange background…Peter’s use of motion lines is lovely as always….and the movement of the green girl in WW’s arms is perfectly done; she looks entirely limp and yet rigid a the same time, with her stylized hair and gown flowing out behind WW.

I think this one may even be better:

Again, the motion lines become an intense design element; it’s almost like you’re looking at rapids with all the racing, turbulent patterns going every which way and yet still managing to form a coherent whole. The upper left panel, with WW and the Holiday girls spinning semi-conscious in cocoons against that weird abstract colored background is especially fine — and, of course, with its hints of helplessness and semi-involuntary transformation, intentionally fetishized.

If Peter has outdone himself, Marston also turns in a fine story, somewhat more ominous and dark than usual In traversing the planets and the Greek gods, he’s inevitably come to Pluto, and so he gets to retell the Persephone rape legend

and replay it using one of the Holiday girls as the unfortunate Persephone.

This is preceded by a suggestive sequence:

You have the threatened rape, the disbelief of the other girls…and then the tearful evocation of fatherly displeasure, followed by the actual rape, complete with discarded phallic accoutrement. We’re treading around issues of incest and abuse, with Pluto taking the part of rapist/ogre/father.

That would explain in part, too, some of the more ominous submerged themes in the issue. When they get to the planet Pluto, for example, the Holiday girls and WW are confronted by black, groping hands. The hands hold them while they are split apart into spiritual light bodies and physical black bodies.

So bifurcated, the girls are held under Pluto’s thrall:

What happens at that point is a little unclear, but if I understand right, Pluto uses the light bodies as decorations in his castle while the dark bodies becomes his hollow, robed servants. In any case, the separated forms are definitely in his service, and easier to destroy than whole selves.

Thematically, the evil black hands, the split between beautiful beloved colorful spirits and despised hollow black drones, the narrative quest to reunite the two — it all seems like it’s dealing with sexual trauma, and the subsequent sense of estrangement from, and loathing of, the self. It’s mixed in, too, with Marston’s odd theories about the power of colors (theories I don’t pretend to entirely understand), and with his usual male/female binaries (the spiritual forms actually seem more female than the abandoned physical, blackened shells — which makes sense since masculine/feminine is more archetype than physical reality for Marston.) The result is a narrative that veers vertiginously between (literally) colorful fantasy and a disturbing darkness, with a sense that love can slide from one into the other at a moment’s notice. For instance, look at these successive pages:

The color palette kind of tells you everything you need to know, almost without even reading it.

There’s another telling sequence late in the book I think. Pluto comes to steal Steve away. The story spends an unusual amount of time not on Steve’s reaction, but on his secretary’s:

Narratively, there isn’t a need for all this; why do we care about the secretary’s reaction, after all? And why is she quite so thoroughly freaked out? (I mean, yes, I’d be freaked out too, but in terms of the stuff that happens on a regular basis in this comic, this is pretty small beer.) I think the answer to both questions, maybe, is that this is important, and she’s freaked out, because it’s a primal scene…and more importantly, a primal scene as site of abuse. It’s not just a kidnapping; it’s a rape, and a rape linked to childhood abuse and perversion (it’s a male on male intergenerational rape, after all.) The secretary, in effect, is necessary because you need not only the rape, but *the witness to the rape*; not only the (child) abuse but the traumatized child-adult.

Given Marston’s usual ways, I think it’s valid to wonder if he’s fetishizing father/daughter rape. There’s probably a touch of that in a scene like this:

At the same time….I think I’d argue that this sort of scenario (submerged rape themes, submerged incest themes) probably has a fair amount of appeal for girls as well as for dirty old men…especially when the girls are as clearly the heroes, the older men are as clearly the villains, and the incest/rape is as sublimated as is the case here. Relationships between fathers and daughters — or, perhaps more to the point, between patriarchy and daughters — are definitely fraught. The patriarchal power is desirable and exciting, and yet (and because) it’s forbidden for girls. Marston’s providing a way around that; he’s saying that you can be like Wonder Woman, and keep hold of the danger and the excitement and the sex without having to split against yourself and become a patriarchal thrall/ornament. There’s a sense, in other words, in which I think Marston’s fetishization of feminism is appealing not only to men, but to women as well, since women, like men, are invested in both sex and power relations as desirable commodities.

Which isn’t to say that it’s not a tricky and uncomfortable issue. Freud started thinking about female incest and rape fantasies in the context of his own female patients, most of whom were the daughters of his colleagues. They all claimed they’d been raped by their fathers. Freud was like, well, of course, their fathers didn’t rape them, because they’re my friends, so…women must have incest fantasies. Which is bullshit; I have little if any doubt that his patients were in fact raped by their fathers. And yet…at the same time that they do actually get raped and abused, by their fathers and others,…many women also do have actual rape fantasies, and fetishized relationships with (sometimes abusive) father figures. Marston’s story here seems to be about acknowledging and enjoying those fantasies (or even those realities) in order…I don’t know, maybe not to transcend them, but to not let them cripple you. In this context, it’s interesting that for Marston the reintegration is actually sexualized as well:

I said above the Marston seemed to be sexualizing the helplessness of the transformation…but on second thought, I wonder. Maybe it’s the duality itself that he finds sexy; the image of women as both spirit and flesh, sexual and ethereal, merging into one? Instead of breaking women apart into virgin and whore and fetishizing the severed bits, Marston is excited by the integration; the fact that women can be both and neither and more than the sum of their parts. Pluto is misguided not only in his morals, but in his aesthetics and his cheesecake; women are most beautiful when they’re whole, not when their cut into bits and used as catspaws of the patriarchy.

And, of course, at the finish, WW is riding a stallion and clutching the uber-phallus/triton, vanquishing the evil father and taking his place…and then kneeling in loving submission before the over-mother, who promises that rape has been vanquished…at least until you turn back to the first page to read it again.