Über alles

Just back from a short break in Germany.

I was staying with an old schoolfriend who's been working for the MOD since leaving university and is currently on secondment to NATO at the JHQ Rheindalen military base. He assures me he is but a lowly data analyst, but he's signed the Official Secrets Act and I honestly couldn't begin to guess what he actually does on a day-to-day basis. There's every possibility that he's involved in deniable ops, so just to be on the safe side I'll identify him only as Mr. L [I was going to advertise his PS3 username, but that's probably still enough for him to be contacted through PlayStation Network and "persuaded" by whoever the other side is these days. Blimey, you never can tell in this game, can you?].

JHQ Rheindalen is a truly bizarre place - a vast, town-sized network of semi-detached properties that physically resembles an eerily underpopulated Chatsworth Estate from Shameless and is uniformly rendered in that green-tinged light grey so beloved of Cold War decorators. Featuring such incongruous street names as Queens Avenue and Cumberland Drive, it's a surreally skewed slice of British life planted slap bang in the middle of Europe, with its own shopping arcade, supermarkets and cinema: The Truman Show with added squaddies. Apparently the local town on pay day is a mass brawl waiting to happen, with hordes of both local and military police on patrol just waiting for it to kick off.

Outside the regimented Petri dish of existence on base, German life is noticeably cleaner, more efficient and more polite than its English equivalent. Mr. L's theory is that you're more likely to respect other people when you respect yourself, which, if true, would be a compound rule that draws impetus from all facets of cultural identity. For instance: in marked contrast to our once-competitive industries, German manufacturing is still a force to be reckoned with - a fact that can readily be deduced at the airport drop-off rank, where a steady stream of VWs, Audis, BMWs and Mercedes makes up a conspicuously high percentage of the road-going traffic. German people evidently buy German brands over and above anything else on the market, in the relative certainty that the product has been sourced, forged and marketed domestically. Our home-grown brands, meanwhile, have been brazenly flogged off for a transitory profit. Still, at least we won World War II, eh? And the World Cup in '66. In your face, Germany!

Another point of interest - not unrelated to the above observation - is the fact that Germany's Autobahn features numerous entirely unrestricted stretches: the road sign to the left heralds a section of road where there is literally no speed limit. In a country where every other car is a high-end Merc or Beamer, this means that the general pace on the roads is in an altogether different league. As a perhaps unsurprising consequence of this, German drivers are incredibly aware and will quickly pull over if a more capable vehicle signals its intention to overtake [usually by roaring up behind you and then sitting on your arse until you get out of the way]. Mr. L is a confirmed speed freak and once took the opportunity to fly as a passenger in a BAe Hawk T1(A) - of Red Arrows fame - the unprecedented G-Force of which caused him to yack his NAAFI lasagne up all over the inside of the cockpit. Needless to say, the hands-off approach of the German road system rather appeals to his get-there-quick sensibilities. "We're doing twice the UK speed limit," he said to me at one point, as distant objects in front of his 5l supercharged V8 Jag - I think they might have been other cars - became close objects in improbably short order. I could just about acknowledge this with a strained "Nng," and was about to add that I was sure it was 70mph for a reason, when he decided that we might need to up the ante slightly. Not much, just another 20 miles an hour or so. My facial expression contracted into an entirely involuntary rictus and, had I been able to tear my terrified gaze from the road for long enough, I'm pretty sure I could have located the individual sweat glands in the palms of my hands simply by tracing the gushing rivulets of adrenaline-rich perspiration to their roots.

The unalloyed fear was all worthwhile, however, as I'd traded five years of my life in for a delightful trip to the Mosel Valley, where much of Germany's white wine and Sekt is produced. This is an aesthetically aggreeable region typified by chalet-style architecture, impossibly steep vineyards and at least one imposing hilltop castle, the Reichsurg Cochem, whose gothic spires dominate this picture postcard panorama. We followed this with dinner in the revolving restaurant at the top of Düsseldorf's Fernsehturm and - just to bring me crashing figuratively as well as literally back to Earth - a tour of some of cheesiest late bars I've ever experienced.

Yes, the UK's industrial machine may be in tatters, but at least we've got the clubbing scene sussed. In your face, Germany! Feel the burn!

Dave's new reading list

A friend of mine - let's call him 'Dave' - recently [well, not that recently, but I've done it now so shut up] asked me for some comic and graphic novel recommendations. I've skipped the obvious ones - V For Vendetta, Watchmen, The Dark Knight Returns - because if you haven't read them, then frankly you haven't done your homework and you should be thoroughly ashamed.

You'll notice that several writers crop up regularly throughout my list. They are 2000AD alumni Alan Moore, Bryan Talbot, Grant Morrison, Warren Ellis and Mark Millar. I routinely buy multiple copies of anything illustrated by Frank Quitely, because the man is a demiurge of sequential art.

I've split my recommendations into handy sub-sections: Spandex, Steam, Horror and We3 [curse you, pesky genre-straddling Grant Morrison!]. That way, if you're so not about the capes right now, you can just skip on to the next section. If none of these sub-headings appeals, then you're probably reading the wrong blog.

Dave: this supersedes any and all previous reading lists. If you are in the middle of a book, stop reading it IMMEDIATELY and pick up of one of the following:

SPANDEX

Miracleman [w: Alan Moore a: various] Written for UK's Warrior magazine around the same time as V For Vendetta, this is British legend Alan Moore's final word on real-world superheroics, with the titular hero testing the limits of his powers and responsibilities aided and/or hindered by a colourful supporting cast of allies and enemies. Worth reading if only to experience the third volume - Olympus - which is beautifully illustrated by John Totleben and charts Miracleman's systematic construction of the ideal human society. It also features one of the most horrific superhuman battles in comics history, with London destroyed and millions dead. Miracleman has been subject to protracted legal wrangling over character ownership since the mid-'80s, making the now out-of-print collections largely unobtainable.

The Killing Joke [w: Alan Moore a: Brian Bolland] The Joker escapes from Arkham Asylum and goes after Batman's closest allies in this seminal tale. The compact story is by Alan Moore, who develops the character of the Caped Crusader's pallid, grinning nemesis more credibly in fifty pages than any number of writers had done over the preceding fifty years. The slick, precise linework constitutes rare interior illustration by superstar cover artist Brian Bolland, who was among the many talented 2000AD creators to be harvested by big American firms in the early- to mid-'80s. The Killing Joke was recently recoloured and retouched by Bolland for a 20th anniversary hardback.

Zenith [w: Grant Morrison a: Steve Yeowell] Morrison is one of the biggest writers in the business - in some respects Alan Moore's natural heir, albeit with his own distinct line in psychedelic metafiction. Before he started mucking the hero genre about in earnest, he wrote this straightforward but superior hero series for 2000AD: Zenith is a spoilt, egotistical pop star, the son of two now-missing '60s heroes, who gets dragged against his will into a plot involving Nazi superhumans and evil extradimensional entities. The third volume features cameos from pretty much every British superhero since the '50s [see the International Catalogue of Superheroes' handy Zenith Phase Three Scorecard for further information]. Now out of print and quite tricky to get hold of, due to Morrison having instigated a legal wrangle over creative rights.

Brat Pack [w/a: Rick Veitch] A long-time collaborator of Alan Moore's, Veitch had previously taken over writing Swamp Thing when Moore left the title. His growing disillusionment with the aggressive commercial aspects of the business fuelled a series of satirical takes on costumed heroics, of which this is the first. Brat Pack explores the dubious notion of kid sidekicks, following four raw recruits through their brutal inductions by variously irresponsible and psychopathic 'heroes'. Ugly and nasty, yes, but it's a beautifully crafted labour of simmering resentment, packed with great character design and succinctly iconic imagery.

Flex Mentallo [w: Grant Morrison a: Frank Quitely] Morrison's first collaboration with the sublime Frank Quitely is a perfectly-formed piece of glossy metafiction. Each issue channels the four distinct eras of US comics [Golden Age, Silver Age, Dark Age and Modern Age], all framed within a surreal missing superpersons detective story. Never collected, due to legal wrangling over Mentallo's Charles Atlas-like physical appearance and, more specifically, secret origin [which actually appeared in Doom Patrol #42, fact fans!], although I had my individual issues hardback bound by dpbanks.com. That's right, now you're envious.

The Authority [w: Warren Ellis/Mark Millar a: Bryan Hitch/Frank Quitely/various] This eponymous superteam are answerable to no-one - the heaviest hitters in the Wildstorm Universe, they live aboard a sentient interdimensional spaceship the size of a city and don't hesitate to come down on their enemies like a ton of wet shit. Warren Ellis's incarnation of the team took on supervillains and scaled-up space-borne threats, but for my money Mark Millar's take was their finest hour - a collection of flawed beings with god-like powers, revelling in their celebrity status, indulging in Caligulan parties and setting corrupt terrestrial governments straight with loads of stick and not much carrot.


Well, quite.

If you like this brand of OTT, so-called "real world" superheroics, you'll lap up Cla$$war, The Ultimates, Wanted, Kick-Ass, Black Summer, No Hero, Supergod, Nemesis, et cetera, ad nauseam.

Planetary [w: Warren Ellis a: John Cassaday] I've already written at some length about this title, but in summary this is the cerebral counterpart to the audacious hyperbole of The Authority. A trio of idiosyncratic superhumans heads up the enigmatic and phenomenally wealthy Planetary organization, dedicated to unearthing otherworldly secrets that are all but lost to posterity. Ellis's script ties a host of pop culture references - Godzilla, '50s B-movies, Hong Kong ghosts - into a single continuum, while John Cassaday's character and environment design brings to the proceedings a disquietingly unique aesthetic.

STEAM

From Hell [w: Alan Moore a: Eddie Campbell] This dense speculative history of the Jack the Ripper murders is the size of a phone directory and commensurately ambitious in scope. Campbell's scratchy monochrome inks perfectly suit the gaslit squalor of late 19th-century London, while Moore insinuates his story into more well-documented, historically accurate events, most obviously the five grisly murders perpetrated by the Ripper; his sizeable cast of characters similarly interacts with period figures such as Queen Victoria and Joseph Merrick, the Elephant Man.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen [w: Alan Moore a: Kevin O'Neill] The neat central premise concerns Victorian oddities from various literary works being recruited for outlandish black bag work by the British government. Moore's scripts tie a dizzying host of fictional works together [in later instalments, for example, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is an early prototype of Knight Rider's KITT], while pretty much every tiny background detail in Kevin O'Neill's illustration alludes to a period character or concept. American writer Jess Nevins has made extensive annotations to accompany each volume, with definitive explanations of even the most obscure reference.

The Adventures of Luther Arkwright [w/a: Bryan Talbot] This dense steampunk saga has foppish Royalists using souped-up First World War technology to engage fascistic Roundheads across a host of parallel Earths. With a tip of the hat to Moorcock's Jerry Cornelius, Talbot fleshes out his labyrinthine plot with richly detailed black-and-white illustration and extended, bloody action sequences, painstakingly rendered in Peckinpah-esque bullet-time. The full-colour sequel, Heart of Empire, is also worth picking up.

Scarlet Traces [w: Ian Edginton a: D'Israeli] A steampunk sequel to H.G. Wells' The War of the Worlds, originally serialized as a webcomic. Gentleman adventurer and war hero Major Robert Autumn investigates the brutal murders and disappearances of young women against the backdrop of a Victorian England awash with acquired Martian technology. The same creative team have since adapted Wells' original in the same style, and there's a sequel, The Great Game [so, confusingly, this is the middle episode of a trilogy].

Grandville [w/a: Bryan Talbot] In part an homage to the anthropomorphic illustration of French caricaturist Jean Ignace Isidore Gérard, who worked under the pseudonym J.J. Grandville, this is also inspired - according to Talbot - by Conan Doyle, Rupert Bear and Quentin Tarantino. Detective Inspector LeBrock, a rough-and-ready Scotland Yard badger, embarks on a period romp with lashings of old-fashioned fisticuffs. This oversized hardback is one of the most attractive editions ever to have graced my bookshelves.

HORROR

Swamp Thing [w: Alan Moore a: various] DC's third-rate '70s muck monster was reinvented by Alan Moore as a sentient plant-god in this cerebral horror series. Shortly after Moore took the reins, this was the first mainstream US title to completely discard its stamp of approval from the Comics Code Authority - a censorship organization formed in the wake of the creative witch-hunts of the '50s - clearing the way for more considered, adult content aimed at a mature and literate readership. Moore's Swamp Thing is also notable for having introduced roguish magician John Constantine - who's actually a foul-mouthed, blond scouser, not some raven-haired LA woodentop who gives up smoking at the first whiff of sulphur. Keanu Reeves, I'm looking at you.

Uzumaki [w/a: Junji Ito] There's no shortage of top-notch scares in manga and this is one of the creepiest Eastern offerings on the market. Ito's three collections detail the insidious takeover of a small lakeside town by malevolent spiral patterns, beginning on a small-scale with individual obsession and insanity but quickly assuming apocalyptic proportions, with gangs of physically twisted lunatics on the prowl and rampant typhoons decimating everything in their path. Heavily influenced by the cosmic horror of H.P. Lovecraft, the overriding atmosphere throughout Uzumaki is one of impossible, alien infection, against which the few remaining sane protagonists are ultimately powerless.

The Walking Dead [w: Robert Kirkman a: Charlie Adlard] Kirkman is on record as saying that he won't be wrapping up his zombie apocalypse opus any time soon, which is great news for fevered deadheads like me. If you've ever wondered what happens after the credits of a zombie movie have rolled, here's your definitive answer. It's an HBO-style, character-driven series that understands the fundamentals of the zombie horror: by all means barricade the windows against the flesh-eating dead, but keep an even closer eye on your fellow survivors. Don't get too attached to any of the characters, either - Kirkman likes nothing better than to continually wrong-foot his readers in the most unexpected ways possible. I've lost count of the number of times I've cursed his sick name while reading this. Also benefits from the solid, gritty black-and-white artwork of Charlie Adlard, one of the new school of 2000AD Brits currently making a Stateside name for themselves.

Girls [w/a: The Luna Brothers] Rather like Stephen King's latest doorstop, The Lunas' high-concept horror has an impenetrable dome suddenly enclosing an all-American town, with increasingly disturbing consequences. Unlike Stephen King's latest breeze block, this particular town is subsequently overrun by attractive naked women. Aggressive towards women and irresistible to men, these blank-minded clones quickly replicate themselves after intercourse [by laying eggs] in order to serve something rather disturbing that has crash-landed out in one of the cornfields... Tensions soon run high inside the dome as realization dawns and the struggle for survival cranks up several notches. Quite harsh. The same creative team are currently halfway through The Sword, an immensely entertaining action fantasy that's also well worth a look.

WE3

We3 [w: Grant Morrison a: Frank Quitely] Gets its own section because I don't really know what it is: near-future dystopian satire, experimental animal rights manifesto or post-Matrix sci-fi action adventure? Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely's mini-series is a mere pamphlet compared to some of the dense tomes featured above, but it's a killer example of the medium's potential. The simple plot revolves around three domestic animals - dog, cat and rabbit - who escape, along with their state-of-the-art cybernetic warsuits, from a top secret military program and attempt to make their way back home. Even Morrison's pet-centric emotional manipulation takes a back seat to Quitely's jaw-dropping, time-sliced action sequences and insane levels of razor sharp detail.


Absolutely essential reading for anyone, much less comic fans.

Right, that's your lot - now get your sorry arse off to Amazon.