SERIES SATURDAY: Sgt. Janus


This is a series about … well, series. I do so love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies. I’ve already got a list of series I’ve recently read, re-read, watched, or re-watched that I plan to blog about. I might even, down the line, open myself up to letting other people suggest titles I should read/watch and then comment on.

Cover art by Jeffrey Ray Hayes

Cover art by Jeffrey Ray Hayes

 

While I’m not as well-read in the field as I’d like to be, I really do love the “occult detective” genre. There’s a long history to it, from the Victorian (Thomas Carnacki and Aylmer Vance) to the pulp (Jules deGrandin and John Thunstone) to the modern (Simon Feximal and John Constantine), and it has seeped from the written to the filmed (Carl Kolchak among others). Jim Beard’s Sgt. Roman Janus is an intriguing addition to the genre.

Janus has now appeared in three books: Sgt. Janus, Spirit-Breaker; Sgt. Janus Returns, and Sgt. Janus on the Dark Track. Flinch! Books has recently reissued the first two books as a precursor to their release of the third (and hopefully not final) book in the series. All three have beautifully painted new covers by Jeffrey Ray Hayes that capture the otherworldly nature of the characters.

As a character, Sgt. Janus fits the mold of the occult detectives who have preceded him into print: his personal background is shrouded in mystery (at least at the start), he’s a bit aloof, he doesn’t often explain fully what’s going on (and assumes, I think, that most people believe he’s up to shenanigans and the supernatural can’t possibly be real), and he does what he has to do regardless of personal cost.

What really makes the series stand out from the rest of the field is the way Beard tells Janus’ stories. He plays with genre conventions and delivers stories that feel daring and original within a pretty well-traveled realm.

One of the tropes of “consulting detective” fiction (both occult and not), dating back to the inestimable Sherlock Holmes, is the presence of a narrator who is also usually the detective’s aide-de-camp. Most detectives have their Watson, Parker, Caldwell, etc.. In Sgt. Janus, Spirit-Breaker, Beard replaces one reliable narrator with eight sometimes unreliable narrators. Each tale in the book is told by the client for whom Janus was working, part of his fee being that the client must send him a written description of how the case came to Janus’ attention and how it unfolded. This gives far more diversity to the way the stories are related – some of the clients are happy to be doing it and believe in Janus’ abilities, while some are disgruntled and imbue their stories with a healthy skepticism. This also allows Sgt. Janus himself to remain a mystery, his personal background and that of his female assistant and the house they occupy all only hinted at in the little tidbits he drops to his clients when they ask. And while each case stands alone, they also very clearly build on each other. The reader makes larger connections the characters themselves don’t, and the final story makes those connections as explicit as possible in revealing what it’s all been building towards.

The second book, Sgt. Janus Returns, follows the more traditional trope for narrators, introducing us to Joshua Hargreaves, a disaffected young man who meets an amnesiac woman who exhibits many of Sgt. Janus’ personality traits and abilities. Hargreaves becomes her aide-de-camp and chronicler while she tries to figure out who she is and why she feels connected to the house the missing Sgt. Janus used to occupy. Similar to the first volume, the stories herein are still episodic and still build towards a climax that reveals all – and in fact reveal a great deal more than the climactic story of the first book. Beard takes a huge chance by replacing his main character in the second book of the series – and it works. Perhaps it was because I read the books back-to-back-to-back, but I was invested in discovering “Lady Janus’s” secrets and how she was connected to Sgt. Janus from the very first page. I was also interested in Joshua Hargreaves’ development as a character – and he does have his own arc throughout the stories – as well as that of two new characters, Valerie Havelock-Mayer and Wendy Jackson.

The third book, Sgt. Janus on the Dark Track, breaks again with traditional by giving us a full novel instead of a series of connected short stories. It’s not really a spoiler to say Sgt. Roman Janus is back (although I won’t reveal how) on the case. It’s no secret that I love epistolary novels, and Beard proves to be a master of the form. The events of Sgt. Janus’ ride on a very dark train are told through the journal entries, telegrams, letters, and newspaper clippings of several different characters (although  notably once again, never in the words of Janus himself) including Valerie Havelock-Mayer and Joshua Hargreaves and another interesting new character, Gabriel Butters. Dark Track is the most blatantly Gothic of the three books so far, replete with young virginal damsel in distress and unknowable supernatural entity and locations of great supernatural power, and again it all works.

Three books with three different narratorial approaches should be highly annoying to a series reader. We like consistency in the way a series’ individual entries are told. But Beard’s experimentation and willingness to take risks keeps the series fresh and keeps the reader on their toes. I really hope there are more Sgt. Janus volumes forthcoming, and cannot wait to see what new ways Beard finds to tell the tales.

SERIES SATURDAY: The John Simon Thrillers

This is a series about … well, series. I do so love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies. I’ve already got a list of series I’ve recently read, re-read, watched, or re-watched that I plan to blog about. I might even, down the line, open myself up to letting other people suggest titles I should read/watch and then comment on.

John Simon Thrillers cover banner.jpg

 

Part near-future science fiction, part buddy-cop comedy, part techno-thriller, part family drama: the John Simon Thrillers series by Bryan Thomas Schmidt is such a mash-up of genres that it really shouldn’t work – and yet it does, and pretty brilliantly at that. The series, which has three books so far (Simon Says, The Sideman, and Common Source) with at least two more in the works, focuses on property crimes police detective John Simon and his new partner, Lucas George.

John Simon is a middle-aged, sharp-humored, career detective with the Kansas City Police Department. He’s a bit of a Luddite when it comes to technology and a bit old-fashioned when it comes to his personal relationships, but he’s not quite the curmudgeon he claims he is. He’s devoted to his job and does it well. He’s devoted to being a father, but that’s a harder job in the aftermath of a divorce and his ex-wife’s bipolar diagnosis. And when, in the first book of the series, his partner on the job is killed, he’s devoted to bringing her killers to justice.

Lucas George is an android, one of the relatively new strain in this near-future Kansas City, who just wants to do his job as a night watchman, remain true to the Three Laws (in-world, Schmidt has the android creators follow in Asimov’s fictional footsteps), and be a good member of society. Being present at the bust-gone-wrong that eventually leads to Simon’s partner’s murder pulls Lucas into the action first as a witness, then as a civilian advisor, and by the start of the second book as a cop-in-training and Simon’s new partner.

The relationship between the two men is rocky at first, of course, the circumstances of their meeting being about as far from the definition of “meet-cute” as one can get. But smartly, Schmidt doesn’t drag it out: the “will they or won’t they be friends” subplot is wrapped up by the end of book one, and we get to watch the friendship grow and deepen over the next two books in the series. Lucas becomes Simon’s work partner and confidante and a “big brother” of sorts to Simon’s daughter Emma. Simon and Lucas’ banter is classic buddy-cop movie dialogue (Schmidt is not afraid to wear his influences on his sleeve), but not so over-the-top that it becomes grating or tiresome. The characters’ style of humor is different as well: Simon’s acerbic and dark, Lucas’s pun-filled and replete with movie quotes that sometimes are deployed at precisely the wrong time. Schmidt uses the humor to give the reader breathing space in what otherwise are fast-paced and tense narratives.

The first two books focus on Simon, Lucas, and crew stumbling onto, and then taking down, terrorist threats that feel extremely realistic given these books are set so close to our own time. The books are filled with cinematic car- and foot- (and even aerial) chases, the action enhanced by Schmidt’s deep knowledge of the Kansas City area as both a resident and as a ride-along with local police. In the third book, Common Source, the attention switches to a potential problem with the androids themselves, making it perhaps the most techno-thriller of the series so far.

Other than the presence of sentient androids, the technology of the series is very much near-future. The first book’s action hinges on black market nanotech and the third on the androids themselves, but Schmidt doesn’t project much beyond that. By setting the series in the late 2020s, he is able to keep firearms and cars and household security systems and phones and drones all pretty close to what we currently have. This enables Lucas (and when appropriate, his fellow androids) to stand out. And by having the androids be sentient as well as more capable than most humans, Schmidt sets up an on-going conversation about accepting differences and understanding the other. Lucas faces moments of anti-android prejudice in each book from a variety of quarters, not just the bad guys. Prior to Lucas joining the force, androids have been essentially a servant class. Some employers give them more free rein than others, but they’re still expected to do what they’re told when they’re told. While most of Simon’s fellow detectives and immediate bosses are welcoming of the new person in their midst, there are others in the KCPD who distrust the totally free android among them as well as those who feel themselves becoming obsolete in the presence of someone who can search for and analyze data quicker, run faster, communicate better. The condescension and growing prejudice towards androids, and Lucas and Simon’s reaction to it, is a central theme of the series. And the main characters are not the only ones who see it and act (or fail to act) on it. Simon’s teenage daughter Emma is central to the action of two of the books so far but present in all three, and it’s her bond with Lucas that helps Simon navigate this new partnership.

Simon and Lucas’ world is also filled with a fantastically diverse cast of supporting characters. Fellow cops come in a plethora of genders, sexualities, ethnicities, religious backgrounds and marital statuses (including a wonderful polyamorous grouping), as do the informants and civilians the leads encounter. These characters are more than just token window-dressing; they represent the real-life diverse make-up of Kansas City and most other major cities. Schmidt develops even the tertiary characters as full and complex personalities. The variety of personalities and physicalities among the cops reminds me of Barney Miller (in the lighter moments) and NYPD Blue (in the more serious moments, minus the gratuitous nudity), my two favorite cop shows.

But the books are not all precinct scenes and chases. Each book expands upon Simon’s family life. The tensions with his ex-wife are ever-present and Emma is becoming more and more aware of her mother’s problems and her father’s attempts to keep the peace. Simon is one of those divorcees who works very hard not to put the kid in the middle and even harder not to let his feelings about his ex-wife negatively influence Emma. The family scenes are worked organically into the mix and never feel like they are less important than the rest of the book.

Humor, action, real emotional content, characters who grow and change as the series progresses – I cannot recommend the John Simon Thrillers enough.

SERIES SATURDAY: Young Heroes In Love

This is a series about … well, series. I do so love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies. I’ve already got a list of series I’ve recently read, re-read, watched, or re-watched that I plan to blog about. I might even, down the line, open myself up to letting other people suggest titles I should read/watch and then comment on.

Young Heroes in Love banner image.jpg

To say that Young Heroes in Love was one of DC Comics’ more eclectic offerings of the late 1990s would not be an understatement. It ran 18 issues, from 1996 to 1998, and I remember enjoy its quirky take on a group of early-20s heroes just trying to make their mark in the greater super-hero world while also navigating their own hormones. I liked it enough that it’s one of those short-lived near-forgotten series that has had a permanent home in my comics collection, surviving multiple downsizings and moves.

And yet, I can’t recall having reread it since it was first published. So I was overdue but a little nervous to actually do it. Any time I consider revisiting something I haven’t read or watched in a decade or more, there’s always that question: will it hold up to my memory?

Happy to say that Young Heroes in Love pretty much does. It’s not perfect, but it’s still good – and when it’s really good, it’s really really good.

Writer Dan Raspler and artist Dev Madan co-created the team and concept, and you can tell from the first issue that they’re just having total fun with the idea of, as Wikipedia puts it, a super-hero garage band. These folks know they want to be super-heroes, and that the best way to make a name for themselves is to work together – but they’re really not very good at that last part yet. Given time, maybe they would be – but Raspler never got to explore that far since the series only ran 17 issues (plus a weird DC 1 Million crossover issue).  When the team encounters more famous heroes, like Superman (during his “electric powers” phase) in issue #3, they fall all over themselves fan-boy and –girling while also trying to impress. They even offer the Man of Steel (Electric? Whatever) membership! Most of the run is one endearing attempt after another to “make it big.” They go up against several giant monsters as well as a serial kidnapper and a villain team with a “rat” theme (Raspler’s hysterical take on the long history of villain teams built around a common theme, most famously represented by Marvel Comics’ Serpent Society). They have their biggest case fighting Batman’s enemy The Scarecrow, but they don’t make a big splash in the news. They do make a big impression on fans in Japan and end up the subject of a manga magazine – mirroring the success lots of young bands have overseas long before they become popular here at home.

Dev Madan’s art in the early issues sets a matching serio-comic tone, slightly cartoonish but not over-exaggerated. It took a little getting accustomed to (in my memory, the art was a bit more realistic). The characters all have distinct looks that stay consistent throughout the issues Madan illustrates (although the same can’t be said for the issues drawn by other artists), and he’s really good at giving the characters a variety of body types. Frostbite’s angular build contrasts Off-Ramp’s scruffy dad-bod (a term that I don’t think had been invented yet in 1996, but which totally fits the character). Bonfire is petite, Monstergirl is more full-figured. The diversity in body types of most of the team becomes extra apparent whenever Hard Drive (the telepathic/telekinetic leader) shares panels with Thunderhead (the team tank): both are broad-shouldered, muscular blonds (although Hard Drive’s blond hair is close-cut and Thunderhead’s is a typical shaggy rocker-do). I have to think making the Brain and the Brawn look so much alike was a conscious decision on Raspler and Madan’s part.

Okay, technically, Hard Drive isn’t the brains of the outfit – the diminutive Junior is the smartest guy in the room (at least until the team meets a particular pre-teen genius), but he’s often overlooked by his own team because he doesn’t have any other power other than being small – which does enable him to solve a case all by himself at one point, proving his worth to the cops if not to his own team. And Junior isn’t the only tiny member of the team: Zip Girl joins a few issues in, and she’s not only small, she can change sizes (to lead a normal life out of costume) and she can fly. Junior doesn’t mind, because he’s in unrequited love with her.

Which brings us around to the title of the book. They’re not just The Young Heroes – they’re Young Heroes in LOVE. The soap opera aspect of the book is nearly pitch-perfect, from budding crushes and unrequited love to one-night stands (and a subplot where Hard Drive tries to brainwash Bonfire into being in love with Thunderhead because it’s better for the team dynamic than her total sexual attraction to her power-opposite, Frostbite, and in which its very clear Hard Drive is in the wrong. Yes, he gets his come-uppance eventually). It being the late 90s, it’s not surprising that the majority of the relationships (the good and the toxic) are heterosexual. But not quite all of them. I’d forgotten just how (as comics writer Steve Orlando recently put it) “ahead of its time” this book was in, near the very end, giving us a relationship between a comfortably bisexual character (Frostbite) and a newly-out-of-the closet character (Off-Ramp). And it’s clear this was not a “the book’s being cancelled and no-one is likely to use these characters again, so what the hell” last minute decision. In early issues, we see Frostbite’s glances and flirting with Off-Ramp. Off-Ramp himself spends the early issues not showing attraction to anyone else on the team, mooning over a string of unsuccessful relationships with women. But the character blurbs at the start of the issues often included phrases like “who knows what Off-Ramp loves” – clear hints that sooner or later, Off-Ramp would have a romantic connection with someone. (And no – Off-Ramp’s coming out is not instigated by any kind of mind-control on Hard Drive’s part.)

If there’s one thing that might be deemed problematic about the book, it would be that the main cast is very, very, very white. Monstergirl, aka Rita Lopez, is an alien shapeshifter who hatched from an egg and imprinted on the Latino parents who raised her as their own (shades of Superman’s origin!). She’s the only Person of Color in the main cast (Yes, Frostbite is also not white: but he’s a blue-skinned ancient snow elf from northern Canada, so I’m not sure he counts). And there are only a couple of non-white supporting characters (including Junior’s childhood best friend who is now a cop). This is not something I consciously noticed in 1996-98, and I’m not sure it made a conscious impression on most readers at the time. There was no mention of it on the letters page at least. Which is surprising, given this was only a couple of years after the debut of Milestone Comics, an independent imprint published/distributed by DC. I’d like to think that if Raspler and Madan were pitching the book today, the cast would have been a bit more diverse.

I’d also like to think that if there had been more time, some of the fascinating background world-building would have been explored. Monstergirl’s alien uncle shows up eventually to reveal her true nature, but we never really get to learn anything about Frostbite’s people (for instance, are they connected at all to Justice League member Icemaiden’s community?), nor about the intriguing society of Travelers that Off-Ramp is apparently a member of. In fact, for most of the run everyone on the team seems to forget that Frostbite isn’t just another Young American Hero. Just like they seem to forget Monstergirl’s erratic behavior or Bonfire’s deep knowledge of the super-hero world except when mentioning it is needed to drive a plot point.

Soap opera romance, deep ruminations on the nature of celebrity and teamwork, tweaks on classic comic book conventions, young characters who are earnest and endearing but not perfect and whose bad decisions come back to haunt them, interesting world-building that never gets fully developed, and character traits that somehow get completely forgotten from issue to issue: holy shit – Young Heroes in Love was a CW Arrowverse show before there was an Arrowverse!

I doubt that Young Heroes in Love is on DC’s priority list for collection in trade paperback or hardcover (although, considering the recent collections of First Issue Special and Wanted, I could be wrong about that). But the individual issues seem to be available for only a few bucks each through places like Midtown Comics.

NEW FEATURE GRAPHICS!

For a while now, I’ve been considering commissioning new graphic headers for some of the regular/semi-regular features on the blog. Features like the book reviews, interviews and even “Series Saturday” tend to lead off with a photograph or book cover and so don’t really need a unifying header. But Reading Round-Up, Sunday Shorts and the new Top Ten(ish) don’t usually have a header of any kind, and boy were they feeling left out.

Enter Scott Witt: long-time friend/brother, former housemate, great cartoonist and all-around nice guy. Scott created three headers featuring his character Mopey the Platypus. Mopey is a coffee-drinking, moody, sarcastic writer waiting for his big break. Yes, he’s based on me.

Mopey has appeared in most iterations of Scott’s The World of Witt — in comic strip form, as part of several card games and board games. It’s an honor to be Tuckerized into Scott’s world. A world you can check out on his Patreon, and his Instagram.

And now: Mopey the Platypus in: New Graphics!

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