The Borribles

The Borribles books were unlike anything I'd ever encountered when I first read them at the age of 11. Dark, uncompromising, and very very bloody, they are nevertheless full of likable characters, loyalty, friendship and a way of life that every kid reading them would have loved to emulate.

The trilogy comprises The Borribles, The Borribles Go For Broke and Borribles : Across The Dark Metropolis. All three are available in a nice big chunky omnibus.

Basic not-too-spoilery plot is that the Borribles (street urchin types who steal to eat and squat in abandoned buildings) learn that the Rumbles (rat creatures that live on parks and commons, obvious Womble analogues) are planning to invade the urban territories. A pre-emptive strike is launched.

Said strike is the basis of the first book. Books 2 and 3, which need to be read back to back for the full effect, concern the repercussions on the Borrible way of life of one minor (but pivotal) event in the first book. These repercussions are large, and they are unpleasant.

You know how JK Rowling casually culled her characters in the last couple of Harry Potter books? Remember how everyone was all, "Oh, that's a bit nasty, that's a bit grim, that's a bit shocking for the little ones"? Well, The Borribles is like that, all of the time. The difference with this story though, (and I mean no disrespect to Rowling here, whose books I genuinely love) these characters are much better drawn, in a much shorter space of time, so each and every death ( and a couple of fates that are literally worse than death, in the context of the books) hit you like sledgehammer blows.

There are some very complex shifting moralities at play here too, with the closest thing the books have to a hero acting like anything but on a number of occasions whilst redemption (if not always rescue) is afforded the most unpleasant of people. It's a cliche, but the best villains don't see themselves as such and in these novels everyone has a motive for what they do, everyone believes themselves to be on the 'right' side. You'll often find yourself agreeing with them.

It seems the violence and ant-establishment themes (the Police don't come off particularly well) rubbed a few people up the wrong way (perhaps understandable in books aimed at children) and author Michael de Larrabeiti struggled to find a publisher for the third book. Whether this convinced him to wind up the series as a trilogy or whether that was the intention all along I don't know. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, because while the Borribles and their culture were ripe for exploration, and might perhaps have had a much larger cultural influence had they appeared more often, the fact is that the ending we get, while not exactly fairytale, is a fitting and memorable cap to a sometimes harrowing, always worthwhile tale.

I could write page after page about these books but if I do I'll not be able to resist mentioning my favourite moments, all of which constitute massive spoilers so I'll leave it at this : a happy ending for the few, paid for with the blood of the many. If that sounds like your cup of tea, read The Borribles now.

Retromancer

It is a fact well known to those that know it well, that pseudo-cosmic antimatter, (properly transperambulated of course) will solve most any quantum conundrum, or if not solve then cause. It works best when judiciously applied in the presence of an observer, preferably female and if at all possible wearing a straw hat.

And who can argue with that.

This is just one of many cosmic truths that I have learned from my many years reading the works of one Robert Rankin. Who may be very well be a genius. Or certifiable. Or possibly both, I'm not sure.

I've never tried to explain a Rankin book to anyone before. I've turned people on to his work, but that has usually just been a case of throwing one of his books at them and saying "read the first chapter and tell me what you think". Something which it is impossible to do, because either you share his sense of humour, in which case there is no way you're stopping at one chapter, or you don't, in which case I guarantee you will keep reading, if only to reassure yourself that you didn't dream the first bit.

Retromancer features the lad himself, Hugo Rune (Hugo Artemis Solon Saturnicus Reginald Arthur Rune to be precise. And I can't tell you how nerdy I feel whenever it pops into my head that I know that, months or even years after I last read it. It's one of those things that just sticks, you know?), who enlists the aid of his Acolyte, Rizla, to travel back from Rizlas native 60's to the bombwracked streets of London at the height of the blitz. Their mission? To prevent Count Otto Black (The Most Evil Man Who Ever Lived) from using futuristic technology to help Hitler win the war.

Along the way we visit The Ministry of Serendipity (the real brains behind Britains military strategy), learn the shocking truth about Winston Churchill, find out what the emergency services were really up to while people were huddled in shelters and of course find out the secret origin of the Steel Pan, as played by Trinidadians in the Notting Hill Carnival. (Or more accurately the Mark Seven fully chromatic/acoustic metallic idiophone. Which is an improvement on the Mark Six in that it doesn't give you spots.)

Pirates get involved at one point, as do a couple of werewolves. The Statue of Liberty is destroyed, a bottomless pit is discovered in a newsagents and much of the now legendary old toot is talked. By, amongst others, Fangio the barman, who is not yet a fatboy although he has already taken to the chewing of the fat.

I love Robert Rankin. A review of one of his earlier books compared his writing to hard drugs, in that it will make you feel sick at first but is extremely addictive. It certainly was in my case. The reason for my love of his work though is that no matter how many plot holes there are, how many loose ends dangling, how many unexplained anachronisms, how little overall sense it all seems to make, he knows exactly what he is doing at all times and it all makes sense come the denouement.Except the bits that don't, which he'll point out to you with a cocky grin and a "I don't care and you don't either, because we're all having so much fun." You find yourself chuckling at the audacity as the author basically sits and says "I bet you thought I'd forgotten that bit" and "see, that does make sense, you just weren't paying attention". His finales are scarily tightly plotted, making the seemingly random, stream of consciousness nonsense all the more impressive. Genius? Certifiable? Definitely both.

Kiss & Die

Matrioshki meets Arnie, with added ninjas. How does that sound?

As a youth Johnny Mann watched his father get murdered by Triads and vowed to bring them down. Later he learned that his father was actually a Triad himself and was killed for trying to get out. Now Mann is a member of the Hong Kong police force, doing all he can to bring down these criminal families whilst at the same time dealing with the stigma of his fathers legacy, not to mention the fortune he has inherited and doesn't want. Many of his colleagues don't trust him, the bad guys are trying to lure him to the dark side and there is a serial killer on the loose targeting foreign tourists. Mann has to catch the killer, stop a gang war and try not to spiral into drink and depression. It's all a bit bleak.

Except it's not, actually. It should be, but it's all laid on so thick, and with the subtlety of a brick to the temple, that it all just starts to feel ridiculous after a while.

Lee Weeks has written four Johnny Mann books to date, with Kiss And Die being the latest. They all follow the same basic pattern, with Mann being a bit grumpy while investigating some killings, his sidekick finding a couple of excuses to show off his kung fu fighting and the ongoing Triad storyline bubbling away in the background. The crimes usually have some kind of sexual theme, with prostitution, people smuggling, online kiddie porn and, well, just plain rape, being pretty much everywhere. This latest has as it's killer a young girl who likes to carve up men, during sex, which she accomplishes by drugging them and tying them up, then injecting their penises with a drug to get them physically aroused. (None of that is a spoiler by the way. These books are not whodunits, the killers and their methods being explicit from the start.)

Each book ends with some variation of Mann kicking loads of arse and slicing a few people up. Mann wraps up pretty much all of his cases by slaughtering a shedload of bad guys. His preferred method of killing is actually, just in case the kung fu sidekick wasn't enough of a cultural stereotype, throwing stars. One of which has a girls name, and is on an elastic, so it returns to him after use.

It's a bit of a shame really. The people smuggling and prostitution angles could have made for some excellent thriller/cultural commentary novels. God knows the issues are real enough and as anyone who has seen the criminally underrated TV show Matrioshki can attest, it is possible to tell a gritty crime drama with lots of sex and violence whilst still remaining respectful and educating the public as to what is going on under their noses. What we have here however is a case of real issues being cheapened to create a false sense of worthiness for what is essentially a brain dead action story of the type that Arnie was churning out in the eighties.

Why am I still reading, 4 books into the series? Well, I'll tell you. The characters are cliched, the storylines borderline offensive and some of the sexual violence is downright disturbing but for all of that, I love them to bits. A Mann book is never likely to win any great literary awards but so what? Sometimes you just want to switch off your brain and hearken back to the days when this kind of escapist nonsense was everywhere.When bad guys were evil, femme fatales were forever trying to seduce your hero and vigilante justice was king. It's tosh, of course it is, but it's mindless overblown tosh that can't help but entertain and doesn't outstay it's welcome. And anyway, who says every book has to mean something.

If there is a 5th Johnny Mann book (and let's face it, there will be a 5th Johnny Mann book, and likely a 25th) I'll be there to pick it up.

Age of the Wolf

Setting a dangerous precedent here, having comics on the blog two weeks in a row (a novel next week, honest guv) but a couple of factors forced the decision. The first being I've barely read anything this week (I am suitably ashamed) and the second is that the story I'm going to write about today ended a week ago in 2000AD and to wait any longer would make me even later to the party than I already am.

The story in question is Age Of The Wolf by Alec Worley (writer) and Jon Davis-Hunt (artist). It follows a young woman in her attempts to survive a werewolf outbreak, whose efforts are mde more difficult by the revelation that according to an ancient prophecy she is inextricably linked to this apocalypse and the head werewolf is personally out to get her. There is a cute heroine, a twisty plot and a fresh new spin on werewolf mythology. Does it work though?

I'll talk about the art first because, without wishing to dismiss the contributions of Jon Davis-Hunt (I mean that, truly) the reason I was so keen to discuss this series is really down to the writer. So, Davis-Hunt has worked for 2000AD before, most famously on the infamous strip Stalag 666, which did not go down particularly well with the readers and caused something of a stink (if you'll pardon the pun) when one disgruntled reader chose to express his displeasure to the writer in a somewhat, shall we say, unique (if not psychotic) fashion. Anyway, I remember liking the art on Stalag, if not particularly loving it, and I even had a beautiful cover from the series as my desktop wallpaper for a little while.


Age... is even better. It's far from perfect and there is the occasional panel or two where it's a little difficult to tell exactly what is going on but on the whole it works for me as classic, 'proper' comics art. No flashy effects or photoshopped models looking one step removed from a photo-strip (I'm looking at you Clint Langley), this is proper comics and if he continues to improve at this rate Davis-Hunt is welcome in my prog any time.



On to Alec Worley then.

2000AD has long had an informal apprenticeship system in place. Future Shocks (sci-fi) and the less iconic Terror Tales (horror) Time Twisters/Past Imperfects (time travel/alt history) are 5page one-shots with twist endings and they are used as the testing ground for aspiring writers trying to break into the hallowed pages of The Galaxies Greatest Comic. Get a few accepted, get a good reaction to them, and maybe you will be invited to pitch ideas for serials. This has been the accepted route into 2000AD since pretty much the year dot, just ask Alan Moore.

Let me tell you something, these things are bloody hard to write. I've been trying for years to put together something I wouldn't be embarrassed to submit and I long ago realised that even if I managed to get one accepted, the chances of my being able to churn them out with any kind of frquency were essentially nil. Which is why I am so fascinated by those who can do it, and do it well.

Alec Worly has been turning in these one-shots at a very prolific pace, and getting pretty much universal praise for them, for the last year or so and it was just a question of when, rather than if, he was going to get a series commissioned. Age... was that series. I was watching it very closely. How would he cope with the extra page count, not to mention the much higher quality threshold, series generally being held to a higher standard than the one-shots, partly because the reader knows they are written by newbies but also because if a one-shot is rubbish it at least won't wear out it's welcome? Would he hit a six or would rain stop play?*

Truthfully, it's a mixed bag. The central concept is sound, (who doesn't like werewolves, and in London no less?), the lead character is likeable enough after a slightly unsympathetic first couple of episodes and the sudden shift into Norse mythology is one of those rug pulling wtf moments that 2000AD does so well. The extended chase sequence involving a motorbike in a blizzard (depicted in the cover for prog 1703 shown above) is crying out to be put on film and the cliffhanger at the end of the penultimate episode was an absolute blinder that demands you read the conclusion. On the other hand, the expositional captions can be a wee bit overbearing at times, the supporting cast are a little underdeveloped and one particular piece of the story (involving a severed hand and a bunch of flowers) left me scratching my head a little, as it seemed slightly superflous, although that may just be me not quite getting it.

A qualified success then, but a success nonetheless. At 9 episodes Age Of The Wolf was significantly longer than the usual first serial from a writer breaking out of the Future Shock system, so it represented a pretty hefty vote of confidence from the powers that be. The fact that Worley has another series starting in the very near future (meaning that it was commissioned well before any feedback could have been gathered about Age...) is another sign that the editor is confident in the guy, and rightly so in my opinion. 2000AD has nurtured many a promising youngster who would go on to bigger things and if I'm any judge (debatable, but still...) Worley is most definitely on that same path. I just hope 2000AD manages to get a few classics out of him before he moves on to bigger (not better, never that) things.

Age Of The Wolf is too recent, and possibly too short without a second series, to be available in Graphic Novel format so short of tracking down back issues you're out of luck for the time being but if you want to get in on the ground floor of a very promising writers career, now is the time to check out 2000AD, because his second series, Dandridge, is due to start in the very near future and is almost certainly gonna be a cracker.





*I'm trying out sport metaphors, but I don't think it'll stick. I'm not even entirely sure I know which sport I'm referencing there.

Age of the Wolf and Stalag 666 covers shamelessly stolen from Pete Wells 2000AD covers uncovered blog which is all kinds of cool and full to bursting with beautiful artwork and well worth a look. There's a link over there on the right somewhere, give it a click. The Dandridge image is from Alec Worleys blog and is by Warren Pleece.