After several false starts, the long anticipated graphic novel version of Clockwork Angels finally came out over the summer. You may recall my review of the illustrated novel last February.
Like the aforementioned, it is written by Kevin J. Anderson, from the story and lyrics by Neil Peart, but illustrated by Nick Robles.
Young Owen Hardy has grown up in a idyllic world, so long as one accepts one’s place in that world. The problem is, Owen dreams of more, leading him into the hands of the Anarchist and the Watchmaker.
Despite squeezing a 315-page novel into a 132-page graphic novel, I found the latter followed the former fairly well. This may have something to do with the fact that Mr. Anderson has written several comic book scripts. When tasked to do so with his novel, he knew how to keep the story intact as he boiled it down to plot points.
That said, the two things I loved most about the novel, its Candide-esque “all is for the best as misfortune abounds” and steampunk feel, were missing.
Nick Robles’ illustrations tell the story as much as the narration and dialogue do. As someone familiar with the story, I was able to ‘read’ the graphic novel via the pictures alone.
Bonus material includes the original artwork by Hugh Symes, allowing the reader to compare Robles and Symes’ interpretation of Peart’s vision.
The graphic novel version of Clockwork Angels comes complete with Rush lyrics and other references to the band’s works.
Not just the title of the latest album by progressive rock group Figgy Pudding, Oblivion Suite is the realm from which ideas come. As founding member Vic Bixby slips into a drug overdose induced coma, the three remaining band members have to face the meaning of their lyrics in order to navigate through that ‘world of ideas’ to save Vic. A swift kick in the pants to remind these bickering musicians with diverging creative directions that their success depends on them working together.
The first thing that strikes the reader is the similarity between the fictitious Vic Bixby and the real-life Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd. It therefore becomes no surprise that Pink Floyd lyrics are sprinkled throughout this graphic novel.
Although word dense–in some places the dialogue gets so packed in the print gets rather small–Ms. Rufin’s black and white with gray wash illustrations provide a space for that dialogue to play. There is little variation in letter-weight or size to suggest tone, which I didn’t really notice, since the characters’ expressions conveyed their emotions well.
Delving into just where creativity comes from, Oblivion Suite substitutes one consciousness for another with a clever twist.
Described as “Imagine if Sex in the City were written by a gay Charlie Brown…” Fires Above Hyperion by Patrick Atangan is a droll, first-person narrative comprised of a series of short tales based on the author’s past relationships.
The title refers to an L.A. brush fire north of Hyperion Boulevard, a sort of retrospective on 20 years of dating: one disaster after another.
It all starts in high school (when he is still closeted) escorting a female friend to the junior prom, with all the drama and expense. Over the years he: falls for the perfect guy, only to have said guy’s boyfriend walk in on them; wants to remain friends with an ex; tries to impress a guy who turns out to be straight; gets dumped and cheated on, all the while he contemplates why none of these relationships ever work out.
The stylized artwork and tertiary colors have a mid-century feel, which I found quite refreshing. One of my favorite techniques is Patrick’s use of shading to indicate a character is speaking, yet no mouth is depicted.
Although Fires Above Hyperion is a commentary on the intricacies of the gay dating scene, readers of any orientation will commiserate with and chuckle at its “why does this always happen to me?” take on relationships.
A. Book's Review 