Where did she go? Out.
Feb. 4th, 2019 09:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustThe Graphic Novels Reading Group I attend is not as other reading groups, as I explained when our theme was 'Comics of the Ancient World'.
And now we have moved on to something completely different: Space Opera! Whatever that may be: we didn't have a definition, and when we tried to find one, we found that Wilson Tucker, who coined the expression, used it to denigrate a "hacky, grinding, stinking, outworn, spaceship yarn". I was aware of it as a label for a story which claimed to be SF but wasn't really interested in playing with scientific ideas, a mere adventure story which might as well have been a western (or "horse opera") but with space ships. It's all about the adventure, we decided, and the scenery, the vastness and variousness of space.
We deliberately excluded superheroes. I missed the explanation of why we decided this, but I'm happy enough to be excused the Guardians of the Galaxy, and the Shi'ar Wars. My one regret was the Green Lantern Corps, mostly because of Alan Moore (and Bill Willingham)'s In Blackest Night, which S. and I managed - by explaining why this was a pity - to sneak in, complete with a recital of the edited Green Lantern oath, of which, for the benefit of those who haven't read the story, I will give the less spoilered version:
Can a mere six pages be called something as grandiose as 'space opera'? Perhaps not, but this glimpse of the Obsidian Deeps has the authentic flavour of wonder and the hugeness and variety of the universe.
It's not so long since we looked specifically at Saga, so we didn't revisit it: but its presentation of the Romeo and Juliet love story, alongside other, even less likely love stories, against a background of galaxy-spanning adventure and a total disregard for scientific plausibility - a space ship which is also a tree! - what could be more space opera than that? Also, picaresque: though that may have more to do with the demands of the continuing story than with the conventions of space opera.
Nor have we been looking at Halo Jones, which provided the title for this post, for no better reason than that my copy is a scattered collection of single issues, and no other was forthcoming. Now the library has, at last, found a copy, I look forward to discussing it. Is it even space opera? That cover line (from 2000AD prog 376): "Where did she go? Out. What did she do? Everything." has to be the best expression of what is do appealing about the genre. But volume 1 is domestic in scale (a shopping expedition, though not as we know it) and volume 3 is a war story, which is a genre of its own. Volume 2, though, the voyage of the Clara Pandy, surely that's space opera.
Finally, the two books that I have read specifically for this topic. The first, loaned by a fellow-group member, was Craig Thompson's Space Dumplins (psychedelic colours by Dave Stewart). A book for children: space whale poop and junkyard angels and a little girl's quest to save her dad. Hugging and learning and a chicken with a great eye for buttons. Visually absolutely gorgeous, every second page demanding to be blown up to poster size and pinned on the wall. "Like the twisted lovechild of Jack Kirby and Dr Seuss, Craig Thompson has created a new genre: the Adorable Epic," says Joss Whedon, and who am I to argue?
Presumably as a result of the recent-ish film, the library has bought multiple copies of various volumes (including at least one non-narrative book about the film) of Pierre Christin and Jean-Claude Mézières's Valerian and Laureline, and I borrowed Orphan of the Stars (originally L'Orphelin des Astres and published in 1998). The album format is quite slight, and drops you into mid-story without explanation, which doesn't do it any favours. Who is the eponymous orphan? (possible the runaway Caliphette, who is not actually an orphan. Possibly someone else entirely) There's plenty of zipping about on space scooters between planets, but the majority of the characters are broadly humanoid and the narrative is more interested in burlesquing movie moguls and private education than in SF content of any kind. More fun than I expected, but no contribution to an examination of space opera.
Except that it made me wonder whether it is part of the definition for space opera to be at least a bit tongue in cheek?
And now we have moved on to something completely different: Space Opera! Whatever that may be: we didn't have a definition, and when we tried to find one, we found that Wilson Tucker, who coined the expression, used it to denigrate a "hacky, grinding, stinking, outworn, spaceship yarn". I was aware of it as a label for a story which claimed to be SF but wasn't really interested in playing with scientific ideas, a mere adventure story which might as well have been a western (or "horse opera") but with space ships. It's all about the adventure, we decided, and the scenery, the vastness and variousness of space.
We deliberately excluded superheroes. I missed the explanation of why we decided this, but I'm happy enough to be excused the Guardians of the Galaxy, and the Shi'ar Wars. My one regret was the Green Lantern Corps, mostly because of Alan Moore (and Bill Willingham)'s In Blackest Night, which S. and I managed - by explaining why this was a pity - to sneak in, complete with a recital of the edited Green Lantern oath, of which, for the benefit of those who haven't read the story, I will give the less spoilered version:
In [untranslateable],
In [untranslateable],
No evil shall escape my [untranslateable].
Let those who worship evil's might
Beware my power, [untranslateable].
Can a mere six pages be called something as grandiose as 'space opera'? Perhaps not, but this glimpse of the Obsidian Deeps has the authentic flavour of wonder and the hugeness and variety of the universe.
It's not so long since we looked specifically at Saga, so we didn't revisit it: but its presentation of the Romeo and Juliet love story, alongside other, even less likely love stories, against a background of galaxy-spanning adventure and a total disregard for scientific plausibility - a space ship which is also a tree! - what could be more space opera than that? Also, picaresque: though that may have more to do with the demands of the continuing story than with the conventions of space opera.
Nor have we been looking at Halo Jones, which provided the title for this post, for no better reason than that my copy is a scattered collection of single issues, and no other was forthcoming. Now the library has, at last, found a copy, I look forward to discussing it. Is it even space opera? That cover line (from 2000AD prog 376): "Where did she go? Out. What did she do? Everything." has to be the best expression of what is do appealing about the genre. But volume 1 is domestic in scale (a shopping expedition, though not as we know it) and volume 3 is a war story, which is a genre of its own. Volume 2, though, the voyage of the Clara Pandy, surely that's space opera.
Finally, the two books that I have read specifically for this topic. The first, loaned by a fellow-group member, was Craig Thompson's Space Dumplins (psychedelic colours by Dave Stewart). A book for children: space whale poop and junkyard angels and a little girl's quest to save her dad. Hugging and learning and a chicken with a great eye for buttons. Visually absolutely gorgeous, every second page demanding to be blown up to poster size and pinned on the wall. "Like the twisted lovechild of Jack Kirby and Dr Seuss, Craig Thompson has created a new genre: the Adorable Epic," says Joss Whedon, and who am I to argue?
Presumably as a result of the recent-ish film, the library has bought multiple copies of various volumes (including at least one non-narrative book about the film) of Pierre Christin and Jean-Claude Mézières's Valerian and Laureline, and I borrowed Orphan of the Stars (originally L'Orphelin des Astres and published in 1998). The album format is quite slight, and drops you into mid-story without explanation, which doesn't do it any favours. Who is the eponymous orphan? (possible the runaway Caliphette, who is not actually an orphan. Possibly someone else entirely) There's plenty of zipping about on space scooters between planets, but the majority of the characters are broadly humanoid and the narrative is more interested in burlesquing movie moguls and private education than in SF content of any kind. More fun than I expected, but no contribution to an examination of space opera.
Except that it made me wonder whether it is part of the definition for space opera to be at least a bit tongue in cheek?
