Saturday, December 19, 2015
Monday, November 16, 2015
Red Sonja #2
As her people turn warlike and
become more vicious than even their enemies, Red Sonja battles to save Hyrkania
from its own army. Racing to the throne, with a price on her head, Sonja finds
herself entangled in the charms and wiles of a mysterious and beautiful
performer… and when the face of the King is revealed at last, Sonja is captured
in intrigues more deadly than any she has known!
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Animated Red Sonja in Mario World
Art by Walter Geovani, I actually wouldn't mind seeing a comic in this style...minus the Mario bits of course :)
Monday, October 5, 2015
Friday, September 25, 2015
Wishfull Thinking, or What About Truth in Advertising?
And so it ends, with a whimper, not with a bang, the insufferable run of Gail Simone in Red Sonja: She-Devil With a Sword. She will not be missed, sad to say. Now, as soon as the over-inflated, redundant, and in the end, utterly useless Swords of Sorrow is over, maybe we can ascribe all of it to a bad dream, a liquor-inspired nightmare from Simone's usually drunk Sonja.
The last panel of the story, after the lamest finish one has memory of, promises Next: Red Sonja Reborn. As a promise, it is tantalizing, a return to healthier and happier times, to a more purposeful Sonja, not this dreg of politically correct-propelled walking-ad for self-pitiful wannabe-feminists. However, one bears in mind the implied threat of Simone, proffered in the already quoted interview from Previews World, that Swords of Sorrow would change everything in all the books of the crossover event. That doesn't bode well for poor ill-treated Red Sonja.
What do you think, dear reader?
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Alisa Marie as Red Sonja
Harley Quinn cosplay might the most popular, but here we still love Red Sonja the most.
Here is RS:SDWAS favorite Alisa Marie, aka Alisa Kiss, as Red Sonja.
Here is RS:SDWAS favorite Alisa Marie, aka Alisa Kiss, as Red Sonja.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
RED SONJA / CONAN #1 (Dynamite/Dark Horse, 2015)
Red Sonja
has gained such popularity and wide recognition as one of the iconic female
comics character, that one almost tends to forget that she was created by Roy
Thomas (based on a character by Howard from a completely different timeline
from the Hyborean Age) as a worthy female rival for Conan, the Barbarian (Conan
the Barbarian #23). Since their first encounter in the besieged city of
Makkalet , and the first hints of erotic attraction in “Song of Red Sonja” (Conan the Barbarian #24), each time
the two hyborean legends meet is an event that truly merits celebration, as it
usually adds to both character’s personality.
Dynamite/Dark
Horse’s crossover Red / Sonja Conan is the second time such meeting that happens
in 2015 after the mini-series Conan / Red Sonja, by scribes Gail
Simone and Jim Zub, and superlative art and covers by Dan Panosian. Despite the
Simone byline, Conan / Red Sonja was the best Sonja comic book I’ve read in a
long time, with good writing, excellent storytelling, compelling visuals and a
coherent plot, although I would bet Simone’s writing input was greater on
issues #3-4 than in the first two, as those were the ones where shaky writing
was more in evidence (I could be proved wrong). Those failings were most
obvious in the erotic relationship between the two heroes, as the newly
liberated and retconned Sonja, deprived of her ‘problematic’ origin story that
filled any advance towards a relationship with a darkly erotic tension, left no
room for any kind of tension or uncertainty as to any carnal relation, cheapening
it. This also makes painfully obvious the infantile way intercourse was denied
twice, something that had some meaning when Sonja couldn’t mate unless defeated
in combat, but cannot be accepted in a book that (one would hope) is no longer
targeted at children. (By the way, another
such instance occurs in this first issue of the second mini-series.) Despite
such shortcomings, it was a gripping story, chronicling the feud between Conan,
Sonja and the wizard Toth-Amon and his cancerous blood-root, at several
(canonic) stages of their lives.
Red Sonja / Conan picks up some time after the events
narrated in the previous series, and once more introduces the blood-root which
one was led to believe to have been extirpated from the world. As a way to circumvent
that small obstacle, writer Victor Gischler (X-Men; Deadpool; Conan:
The Phantoms of the Black Coast) takes us through a nine-years flashback
to the Kothian city of Enshophur, there to meet Kal’ang, “a mage of middling powers, commanding little respect” but about to
get his hands on some of the genocidal blood-root seeds. Behind this far from
awe-inspiring mage is an enigmatic blind seer, clearly a creature of greater
power, cunning and, above all, intelligent dissimulation.
Then we’re brought
back to the present, when Kush and Stygia are about to go to war, mainly
because Kush’s king fears an attack from Stygia. It is no surprise then, to
find that Kal’ang is now a small Stygian king, still as little deserving of
respect as he was before. In fact, maybe less than before, as Conan at one time
refers to him as “some hedge wizard. You
know how it is with these Stygians… every upstart mage thinks he can conquer
the world”. What may come as more of a surprise, is that Kal’ang doesn’t want
that war… at least for the moment, a fact that subtly and cleverly draws the
reader attention to the same blind seer that continues to counsel the mage king,
hinting at a true puppeteer running the show unseen.
It is at
Kush’s king’s camp that Conan and Sonja meet again, both captaining a company
of mercenaries, both pushed to fight each other for general command unaware of
the identity of their opponent (not a very convincing premise logic-wise, but
military logic is not a strong-point of this book, as is shown by the simplest way
Sonja and Conan debate strategy over beers, and how Gischler seems to believe you
can prime an army for battle with a few minutes warning time). Obviously, they
don’t get to fight one another, instead teaming against some discontent
mercenaries, in an impressive demonstration of Roberto Castro’s ability to
portray fluidity of movement.
Although I’ve
enjoyed Castro’s (Lords of Mars; Lord of the Jungle) art, I still
found it to unequal in this book, ranging from the mediocre (a panel where
Sonja seems to have but one leg) to the excellent (as is the case in the
referred fight). He is particularly inspired when drawing Kal’ang, transmitting
visually the suave malfeasance and self-importance of the mage. And I
particularly enjoy the way he draws Conan, which makes me think of a mix of the
better parts of Windsor-Smith and Buscema. And he clearly knows how to draw
feminine anatomy, which is always a plus when working on a Sonja book.
Obviously, for the fans of the original Red
Sonja (such as myself), the insurmountable moment of estrangement comes when
Conan, about to engage in a deserved threesome with two buxom wenches, is
surprised by Sonja waiting in his bed. “You’re more woman than an entire harem
of those wenches”, he tells her.
Obviously,
before they can consummate their sensual yearning, they are attacked by two
demon-warriors sent by Kal’ang to kill Conan and Sonja in an attempt to stay
the imminent attack by the Kushian forces. The monster’s attack, repelled by
the lovers-to-be, prompt them to anticipate the attack on Stygia, setting the
cliffhanger for issue #2. And yet, one is left to wonder:
What would
happen if Conan and Sonja really did
it? If they really ever got to make love? I guess one will never know, for the
entire Universe seems to be conspiring against such an event. In commercial
terms, it would really be unwise, as we’ve learned from countless examples in
the past: Superman and Lois Lane, John Steed and Mrs. Peel… the endless teasing,
the eternal will-they-won’t-they? is a lot more rewarding than the one-time-only
emotional peak of fulfillment. However, when Sonja had her vow never to fuck
anyone who haven’t bested her in a fair fight, there was a meta-diegetic
rationale that helped suspend the reader’s disbelief as to all the extraneous
circumstances that went to prevent the carnal union. But now, in this pasteurized
version of Sonja (or Horny Sandra, like our friend TheMightyFlip so
appropriately termed her), one is ever aware of how ridiculous it is that every
event of relevance to the plot would happen precisely when Conan and Sonja are
about to engage in lovemaking, and even before they remove a single piece of
clothing (or armor). It’s as if one is thrown back to the times of the Hollywood
Hays code.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
SWORDS OF SORROW #4 (Dynamite, 2015)
Alea jacta est. With Swords of Sorrow #4 we reach 2/3 of
the planned run of the series, and the point of no return for whatever story
Gail Simone had in mind. Issue four is, indeed, the most momentous up to this moment,
not least of all, because it’s the only issue thus far where something happens. Which, with fifteen
books published, is a feat of abject proportions. It’s as if we’ve been
watching the piano player cracking his fingers for almost two hours before
flipping his coattails back and finally sitting down on his bench. However, what happens, and above all, how it happens, underscore the fragile
structure of the story and the poor talent of the musician.
I never saw
Simone as a good storyteller, but her performance on Swords of Sorrow is way
beneath amateurish: everything that happens, every slow step of story building,
happens by omniscient fiat of a deus ex machina
narrator. And the most baffling result of this is how passive all the main characters are.
Case in
point: Swords of Sorrow #4. After three books of banter and fighting
each other, our women warriors finally find the generals they were looking for
(Dejah Thoris, Red Sonja and Vampirella, as established in issue #3). How do
they do this? They ask Dracula, who knows “where
the portals are”. That simple. Obviously, it begs the question: if what’s
in stake is the existence of the Universe itself, and if Dracula has that kind
of knowledge, why isn’t he doing
something? Why will he leave the destiny of all existence in the hands of a
bunch of girls that, as the story thus far has shown us, are utterly incapable
of doing anything by themselves?
It may seem
as a harsh appreciation of the series up till now, but really, Simone and her
cronies haven’t shown us a single instance of relevant action by any of their
heroines. Truth be told, the case is almost the same towards her villains: both
the Traveller and The Prince do little else then sit and grumble and bemoan
their respective minions lack of results. This reduces all the action on the previously
published fourteen books to an unrewarding movement for movement’s sake.
And that,
to me, is quite jarring, for I still don’t understand what’s the point of all
this frenetic red queen(s) racing all over the place. According to the series’s
one-shot prequel, The Prince’s minions should prevent the Traveller’s minions
of perturbing the former’s ritual, a ritual that would hand him supreme power
over all of reality. However, the Prince does little more than sit in his
throne room “nowhen”, and one fails to see what kind of menace our girls may constitute
towards his plans. In reality if Purgatory, Mistress Hell, et al. weren’t constantly goading them on, or trying
to bribe them with promises of absolute power, Sonja, Thoris, Vampirella, etc…
wouldn’t have a fucking clue to what was going on, or where, or when. All the
heroines have done so far is being handled gifts and pushed through one portal
or another without reason or rhyme.
And with
the revelations operated on issues #3 and #4, where we learn the true identity
of The Traveler (the only genuine efficient moment in the series so far), it
becomes patently obvious how absurd the whole enterprise is. If The Traveler
knows the identity and whereabouts of The Prince, and despite being an entity
of extraordinary power, still needs generals and soldiers, why didn’t she tell
them who the adversary was, where he is, and what they had to do? Doesn’t seem to
me the brightest idea, on a countdown to annihilation (or “the end of days” as is put on the current issue), to let the foot-soldiers
to figure out for themselves what’s going on.
And that –
what’s going on – brings me to what I believe is the most incredible of plot
contrivances: the identity of the Prince himself. That he was Prince Charming
was not a red-herring, alas. And this attempt by Gail Simone to build up such
an innocuous fairy-tale character to the stature of Myth is the most ridiculous
bid for relevance I’ve read in recent times (maybe only the coup by J. Michael
Straczinski to make Wonder Woman his own in The New 52 comes close to it
in the 21st Century).
In a publicity
interview for the series, Gail Simone referred to Prince Charming as “a
character of legend (…) of massive power”, an idea that is hinted at at several
instances all through the books already published, infusing the reader with the
notion that Prince Charming is a being with the grandeur beyond that of a
Galactus. But how to support such a proposition? Former reporter Lucy Freeman
and psychotherapist Kerstin Kupfermann (who has worked of famous Freudian fairy-tales
specialist Bruno Bettelheim, much in
at the time of writing) write in their book The Power of Fantasy
(Continuum, New York, 1988), that what they call the “Prince Charming” Fantasy is, in essence, the fantasy if
idealized perfect love, a fantasy that cannot stand the quotidian reality of a
longstanding relationship. Being a book
of Freudian bent, the authors cannot free themselves from the centrality of
oedipal interpretations, and thus, the Prince Charming fantasy is one of
longing for maternal love. However, its nuclear tenet is very close to Simone’s
view: “Seeing a wife of several weeks in
hair curlers or brushing her teeth may fill a husband with disgust. Watching
her husband clip his toenails or hearing him pass gas in the bathroom may bring
feelings of revulsion to a bride” (p.62). Snow White was not repulsed by
Prince Charming passing gas, but by him deriving joy on revenge for what was
done to her. For “Snow White was of kind heart, and could not
bear to see his cruelty, even to the witch”, Simone tells us, through The
Traveller. In this, if the extrapolation is allowed, we can see a mirror-image
of Simone retconning Sonja’s origin, so as
to wipe out rape. In both instances, Snow White’s and Simone’s, there seems to
be a disgust in dealing with reality, an attempt to stay in an idealized infant
state. For a rabid feminist writer, it must be close to anathema the thought
that a raped woman could gain power, strength and wisdom from her ordeal. That
she could transcend such an ordeal. That she wouldn’t be forever defined by it
as a victim.
So now
consider the motivation of the character. Disgusted by Prince Charming’s revenge
(to burn the witch’s feet with molten lead shoes, as in Grimm’s original
telling of the story), Snow White leaves him, and, in return, he intends to
destroy the Universe. For want of a good fuck, all the universe was lost… But
then again, consider: if Prince Charming has the power to open rips in Time, of
manipulating the Universe at a quantical level, couldn’t he just travel back in
Time and undo his revenge? Could he not seek redemption through other means and
so regain his lost love (although I bet something like that will happen in the
end)? And really, what kind of immature man cannot abide to lose a loved one
and go on with his life?
Anyhow,
back to Prince Charming as figure of Myth. Feminist scholar Catherine Orenstein
has this to say about him in her book Little Red Riding Hood Uncloaked: Sex,
Morality, and the Evolution of a Fairy Tale (Basic Books, New York,
2002): “It’s no secret that today’s
best-known fairy-tale protagonists are female: Cinderella, Snow White,
Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty, and Red Riding Hood, to name just a few. These
heroines act amongst a cast of banal male foils. The men are simply fathers,
beasts, dwarfs or princes, all interchangeable and usually illustrated as one
and the same from tale to tale. In Stephen Sondheim’s Broadway musical Into
the Woods, the Prince Charmings of two interwoven
fairy tales swap places without so much as a ripple in the plot” (p.121). That’s because Prince Charming has no relevant
role to play in these tales, whose center belong entirely to women. “In these fairy tales, the heroines make
decisions that illustrate the expectations of women in real life, while the
male figures are simply metaphors for punishment (misbehave and you’ll meet a
wolf) and reward (a prince in the end – if you’re good!)” (idem).
So what
Simone is doing here, is creating a big paper tiger that her female heroines
can disintegrate with their magic swords, as if in a pajama party for women that
refuse to grow up (and how apt it suddenly feels to have Sonja revert once more
to the Simone-simpleton that refers to herself in the third person and looks as
dim as a burnt bulb). I was enveloped on the above musings (I admit, a little collateral
to the review at hand) when in the double spread by the end of the book, where
all the heroines are amassed against Mistress Hel, I got a sad glimpse of how
Simone and her readers may see the world (or may fantasize the world as it
should be).
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