#i thought the Starz American Gods was really good but then i thought the book was a lot of good ideas but strung together

[thedreadvampy]

btw obviously talking pure shite about the Corinthian thing but among the many things that makes me not want to watch the show. why ISN'T it a 90s period piece?

like honestly it's the same as with Good Omens being modernised for TV. Good Omens is EXTREMELY rooted in the specific cultural context of the end of the millennium. I just don't think it made sense to set it in the 2020s.

but so much of the plot and aesthetic of Sandman is so very of its time. the experience and ideologies of the feminist characters, the queer characters, the alt characters. the aesthetic of wealth and power. honestly the entirety of Rose and her brother's storyline is so rooted in the serial killer and stranger danger and suburban terror of crime in the 90s and I know that the serial killer obsession has come back around but it's a very 90s flavour of paranoia. like obviously a lot of the series is timeless but at the same time the main plot IS very rooted in time, especially Dolls House and A Game Of You, and it definitely can be modernised more readily than Good Omens but like. why would you. when the aesthetic of the comics is a) deeply rooted in the alt culture of the early 90s and b) fucking iconic. like the original run of Sandman finished the year I was born and despite not having been a goth in the 80s or 90s on account of being an Infant, the 80s-90sness of my style is so so so part of how I put my adult self together and What's Wrong With That?

and there's a lot of sticking points tbh. mostly again I'm thinking of the comic's handling of transphobia and homophobia. which I am concerned that this adaptation is going to address by "modernising" it out of the picture, instead of talking about it. which like. this is a different reservation I guess bc it's true whether it's a period piece or a modernisation. but. I am very concerned that under the guise of modernising it this is going to lose an awfully lot of its crunch.

and ymmv bc I know a lot of people take very deep issue with how the comics handle queer themes and I think a lot of that criticism is fair. but I also think that as a queer and traumatised kid the thing that made Sandman so deeply resonant and meaningful for me was that it was ok with getting messy. like it had a lot to say about homophobia, abuse of all kinds, lateral aggression, and it spends I would say almost all its Real World Main Plot Timeline being very interested in the nuance and moral greys and self- and laterally-inflicted harms among queer people. like it involves a lot of stories about abusive or unbalanced queer relationships whether it's with Alex Burgess or Judy and Foxglove (then Foxglove and Hazel) or the Corinthian. and it also wants to spend a lot of its time tangling with the support but also the spite and ignorance of specifically small queer communities (I think that Doll's House is more interested in depicting queer community as an oasis in the dangerous world of heteronormativity covering up violence. whereas A Game Of You is much more about lateral harm - everybody in that book except possibly Barbie is some flavour of queer, and maliciously (Thessaly) or through ignorance (Hazel and Barbie) or through anger (Foxglove) they are frequently spiteful, bigoted and unpleasant to each other, but Barbie, Wanda, Hazel and Foxglove still draw strength from each other's presence and care. and that rings very true to me of queer communities.

(for the record. my (cis) reading of A Game Of You has always been that it's a fairly direct condemnation of people like Thessaly. she's posed as being cruel and self-serving and ready to throw other women under the bus for her own benefit, and I always assumed we were meant to read her calling Wanda a man as part of that, and that that was the point. that Thessaly is in the book to make a point about TERF/separatist thinking. idk whether that's the intended reading or whether it's an appropriate thing for Neil Gaiman as a cishet man to be cracking into, but it's how it read to me as a 11 year old in 2004 who hadn't yet heard of TERFs or really had any idea about trans women, and i find it hard to take away a reading where we're meant to agree with Thessaly given the way Wanda is framed and the way Thessaly is framed throughout the story. I think there's more complicated stuff to unpick around like. whether Wanda's in the story to suffer and die for the Nice Cis Lady but I really have not ever got why depicting transphobia in this context has been so frequently read as endorsing it.)

like. The thing that makes Sandman deeply important to so many people is that it's messy and uncomfortable. it is. mostly interested in painful questions without answers. it's interested in power, rape, abuse (parental, familial, intimate partner, social, sexual, physical and emotional), homophobia and transphobia, CSA, bigotry, grief, trauma, madness, suicidality, addiction, etc. like. Almost everything in Sandman is focused around people and experiences that are hard to talk about and treated as scary or invisible and that's the point.

and to me again as a queer kid going through trauma and violence and abuse. that's what drew me to it. it's a really visceral read for me bc I think while I don't always agree with how it approaches every topic, it doesn't shy away from engaging with the actual messiness and complexity and no-right-answerness of those marginal experiences. it would not work as well if it was too afraid to say things that might have bad interpretations. and that was what made it matter for me, especially when it comes to queerness and disability and survivorhood (ie things I've experienced) - like it always felt like it had enough trust in its characters and audiences to let marginalised characters be fully fucked up and flawed and experience and inflict unjustifiable things. queer and marginalised characters in Sandman are, in my opinion, relatively unusual in that a) they're everywhere in the text and very internally diverse, there isn't a sense of Here's Our Gay Character Who Represents Gays, and b) they're neither utter villains Because They're Gay (/addicts/mentally ill/disabled/whatever) or Sad Objects Of Pity. they're given space to be extremely flawed and extremely sympathetic Whole People Who Fuck Up.

and my worry is. especially given how a lot of mainstream discourse is around representation and Problematic Media. but also tbh given how increasingly anodyne and pandery I think a lot of Neil Gaiman's output has been getting in this ourouboros stage of his career. I am almost certain that the Netflix Sandman series is going to sand a lot of the crunchy sharp edges off the story. I do not think we're going to see the willingness to make the audience uncomfortable and uneasy (and I'm not talking about the horror elements, but the human ones) and I think that's. honestly totally understandable from a production standpoint bc I think there are things in Sandman that would cause huge backlash if you screen them today. I also. think. that the story would be worse without them.

(none of this matters bc I'm not going to watch the show. why would I do that to myself I KNOW I will not enjoy it even if it's great, bc the comics are embedded somewhere 2 inches from my heart and I'm not. interested in What If That But TV. I can just read the comics again.)

#red said #honestly the only Gaiman adaptations I've really liked are ones where I'm ambivalent to the original #i thought the Starz American Gods was really good but then i thought the book was a lot of good ideas but strung together #into an almost incoherently rambling brick #like i have read American Gods i think three? times and I could not for the life of me tell you the progression of events #every time i read it i leave with snapshots #i loved the film of Stardust. the book is. fine. #i think the exception is Coraline but while i really like both the book and the film #i didn't read/watch either of them until i was like 18 and i think my contact was in pretty quick succession #i also like neverwhere but that doesn't count bc technically the book is an adaptation of the TV show not the other way around #honestly i think. (also bc Mirrormask s one of my all time top films). that i only like Gaiman's screen work when it's original. #really like the janky Neverwhere series. LOVE mirrormask. the Doctor's Wife is about the only good 10th doctor episode #i do not think based on Good Omens and what I've seen for Sandman #that Neil Gaiman produced adaptations of Neil Gaiman classics are a good thing

[truthbeetoldmedia]

American Gods 2x08 “Moon Shadow” Review

This week was the Season 2 finale and, I’m going to be honest, it didn’t feel like a finale at all. It fell more in-line with what a mid-season episode would probably be. With a season as short as American Gods’, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that. It was still a very well-done episode. I got to see most of my favorite characters and I feel like this episode was a perfect balance between showcasing the new gods and the old gods. Most of the episodes this season focused more on one than the other, but this episode was a perfect melting pot of the two.

After the death of Mad Sweeney in the last episode, Shadow is clearly dealing with a lot of guilt. He killed somebody. He actually took a life for Mr. Wednesday and for what? Mr. Wednesday snuck out of the house in the middle of the night. Everyone appears to be turning on him, and for good reason. He backstabs those who do everything for him and then makes it seem like it’s their own fault. Needing some “me time”, Shadow resorts to falling asleep on a tomb in the funeral home’s backyard. He wakes up to see Laura on the one next to him. She spouts off a fake-sounding, rehearsed apology that, usually, would probably be what Shadow wants to hear. However, Shadow’s not as naïve as he once was. What Laura did to him is unforgivable, in my books. What she needs to do is to let him go. At this point, he may or may not find his way back to her eventually, but she’s still a walking, talking corpse. She’s still dead. Shadow is still living and that’s what he needs to focus on in this whole mess in his life.

Meanwhile, we’re finally shown what Mr. World and New Media have been cooking up. Fear is their weapon and it’s showcased in one real-world mishap. Old Media’s influence in 1938 is where this story begins. In 1938, dramatists on a radio program acted out War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells. It felt so real that it caused mass panic by anyone who heard the broadcast. Today, New Media is manipulating all the news stations. On every channel, there’s breaking news being broadcasted that Shadow Moon, Mr. Wednesday, and Salim are dangerous fugitives and need to be taken in by the FBI. Everyone who’s come across any of them will know who they are and could lead the police right to their door. New Media is causing everyday people who are watching to fear for their lives, if they were to ever come across these three men. Much like the media in the real world, people are being manipulated by fear through scare tactics, created by certain news outlets and politicians.

Technical Boy has also become Quantum Boy? He’s been upgraded. The man who worshipped technology in Episode 4 of this season continues his worship. He had devoted his whole life to technology. While everyone was off having families, he was working on his company, rarely leaving the office. This gave Technical Boy power. As you’ll remember, Technical Boy, Mr. World, and New Media had started having their own issues. New Media even called her existence and Technical Boy’s redundant. Quantum Boy is the rebooted, upgraded Technical Boy and, judging by his robotic behavior, he is firmly back on Mr. World’s side.  

Mr. Ibis’ funeral home is surrounded by police and FBI agents towards the end. Salim and Shadow are scared for their lives, being a brown and black man, respectively (and Salim being new to the country), with lies being spread about them across the nation. They could be killed if they move the wrong way or say the wrong thing. With the cops getting ready to bust the door down, Salim seems to be ready to accept his fate. He shares a passionate kiss with the Jinn because, despite whatever squabbles they have regarding faith, they care about each other immensely.

Shadow, meanwhile, is looking for a place to hide, since he has no time to make a run for it. The tree that Mr. Wednesday had planted grabs Shadow and pulls him into its depths. Not only is Shadow terrified of the police, but now he’s terrified of a tree that’s pulling him to lord knows where. Turns out the tree is trying to protect Shadow; give him cover from the cops. This is also how Shadow, as well as the audience, finds out about his powers. The fear for his life most likely triggered this fight response. It brought Shadow memories of his mother and how she would tell him very little about his father. Remembering what his mother said and what he’s since learned, Shadow comes to the conclusion that Odin is his father. In an earlier episode this season we saw a bit of Shadow’s past. When he was waiting to hear back about his mother’s medical test, a man gave him a coin and showed him a trick. It was Mr. Wednesday, but Shadow was only putting the pieces together now.

While Shadow is trying to fight to get out of the tree, we see a young Shadow playing with a toy set that’s been made to look like the funeral home surrounded by police cars. Young Shadow merely wipes at the toy cars and they’re gone. Everything outside of the actual funeral home is silent. The police are gone. They were seconds from barging into the house and they all just disappeared. The tree and Shadow are also gone.

While all this chaos is happening at the funeral home, Mr. Wednesday is seen at a restaurant, cool as a cucumber. He believes “his boy” will be just fine. At the end of the first season, Shadow admits to openly believing in Mr. Wednesday and just everything he’s seen so far. At the end of this season, we see Mr. Wednesday believing in Shadow. That’s kind of nice when you forget how he continues to lie to Shadow, put him in uncomfortable situations, and just completely abandon him.

At the end of the episode, we get the lead-in to next season. Running from his issues in Cairo, Shadow gets on a bus. He thinks he’s safe, but the bus is pulled over. The black men were taken off the bus and told to line up. Sounds a bit like racial profiling, if you ask me. For fans of the book, you’ll recognize the name on the license that Shadow provided the cops. Just one thing though, Shadow is just as surprised as we are to discover that his ID says “Michael Ansel” and not “Shadow Moon”. I think I’m with Mr. Wednesday on this one after seeing that. Shadow will be just fine for a little bit longer.

Overall, I really enjoyed this season. As a finale episode, I was expecting something bigger. Last season, we had the face-off between the old and new gods. This season finale, while I was terrified for Salim and Shadow, it wasn’t exactly heart-stopping. Nothing can top the last episode though. “Treasure of the Sun” was just beyond amazing and I know American Gods could’ve done better, in regards to a season finale. All that being said, I’m excited for what Season 3 may hold. It seems we’re back on the road next season, whereas we were pretty stationary this season. I hope we’ll also see the return of Sam Black Crow (Devery Jacobs).

What did you think of Season 2?  What are some things you’re looking forward to seeing in Season 3?

Some thoughts on the episode:

I really enjoyed Mr. World doing the narrating this episode. It gave an entirely different vibe than what we get from Mr. Ibis.

Crispin Glover is an amazing, creepy menace.

Could you HEAR my hollering when Shadow told Laura to stop calling him “puppy”??? YOU TELL HER, SHADOW!

I thoroughly enjoyed Salim’s panicking. He brought some much-needed humor to the episode.

I am confused as to what Laura hauling Mad Sweeney’s dead body away from the funeral home will mean for next season. Pablo Schreiber has been cast for another show. Mad Sweeney was always going to die, based on the book. It made sense to leave his character there. I don’t know what Laura is going to do with him, but I think Sweeney’s story is over.

I really appreciate that Mr. Ibis and Mr. Nancy weren’t stressing about the cops smashing down the door to get in. A nice game of chess was being played and they just couldn’t be bothered.

Bilquis’ kisses can turn anyone’s day around. #FactsOnly

I just want Shadow to find some peace. May he finally get a BREAK.  

American Gods will return in 2020 on Starz.

Sarah’s Episode Rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝

Sarah’s Season Rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝

#American Gods #Moon Shadow #Season Finale

[secretlyatargaryen]

July 2019 Reviews

Games

Walden, a game - A delightful experience for those who love games and literature and the idea of them together. The best parts of the game are the quotes from Thoreau's book that appear on the screen when you examine something closely, like a fox or a maple tree, complete with great voice acting. The ecological detail put into the game is impressive. The worst part is that the game mechanics for completing tasks are clunky and there is very little time each day before the game forces you to go to sleep and begin the next day, and your hunger, fuel, and shelter meter always seems to be low, causing you to spend the majority of your daylight hours picking berries and collecting firewood. I get that this is supposed to mirror the experience of "living simply," but 1) it is boringly repetitive and if anything calls to mind the irony of “being one with nature” in a computer game and 2) there are a lot of other interesting things to do in the game which you do not have enough time to do, such as helping escaped slaves on their way to the underground railroad. I learned playing this game that Henry David Thoreau was basically every guy I met in college who hated the government and whose solution to its atrocities was to fuck off into the woods and smoke pot instead of actually doing anything about it. This analogy is completed by the fact that you are able to go into town and get food and clean laundry from your parents' house if you get too low on those things.

Black Mirror (2017) - No, not the Netflix series. This is a re-imagining of the Black Mirror series of adventure games developed in the early 2000s. The original game is considered a classic of point and click adventures but suffers from an unoriginal plot (obligatory part where I once again complain about horror games and their obsession with "Surprise! You're crazy! Dead women!") and the unfortunateness of early 3D polygon graphics. The second and third game took the series in a completely new and original direction and were quite good, so while I had never heard of the remake before I came across it during the steam summer sale, I was cautiously hopeful. Even if it was trash, it's just the kind of gothic-mystery-exploring-a-haunted-castle trash that I like to throw my money at. The gameplay is pretty fun (minus some quick time events where you can get killed by ghosts mostly by failing to operate the somewhat clunky controls - the game was originally ported for PS4) and the story is original but also expands upon the series mythos. An enjoyable trashy gothic yarn, although the story also felt incomplete, even to someone who has played the original games, and was both wrapped up too quickly and left weirdly unresolved.

Books

Greenglass House, Kate Milford - I started this book a while ago and it’s been on my radar for a while, and I restarted it again when I heard it was going to be on this year’s BOB list. A fun young adult adventure story which utilizes one of my favorite mystery tropes, the closed circle. The story is that preteen Milo lives in the eponymous house, which his family runs as an inn. The house used to be a meeting place for smugglers back in the day, which means there’s buried treasure somewhere in the house, and when the story starts a slew of guests arrive at the house and are stranded by a snowstorm, when things start getting mysterious. Someone in the house is a thief! I really like this book and the way that the story’s original folklore is woven into the plot. There are also several dungeons and dragons elements that play a role in the plot - to solve the mystery, Milo and his friend Meddy pretend to be characters in a role-playing game, and I love the way the story makes connections between games, stories, and language, since that happens to align with my interests.

Serafina and the Black Cloak, Robert Beatty - Another BOB book, this one also has been on my radar for a while because the series is very popular among my students, and when I went to Beatty’s website recently I saw that Disney had already put their name on it, lol. What I didn’t know was that the series takes place in my state. The setting is the Biltmore Estate in the late 1800s, and the story is a historical fantasy that utilizes some of the local folklore in some really interesting ways, although it’s more fantasy than historical. An enjoyable read with an interesting female protagonist.

Movies

Ready Player One - I enjoyed this movie a lot more than I thought I would. I had heard going into it that it was not a great adaptation from friends who loved the book, which I haven’t read. That might be why I did enjoyed it so much. I don’t think it’s anything that memorable, but it is enjoyable. I can see why the book became so popular, although I’ve read books with similar storylines. I guess a book like this is more relevant nowadays with the popularity of VR in the modern gaming market, but the story relied on some tired cliches nonetheless. I also was a bit annoyed when the story acknowledged the issue with the main character falling for Artemis’ idealistically beautiful avatar without really knowing her...and then had her turn out to be stunningly gorgeous in real life. Okay, she had a wine-stain disfigurement on her face, but she was still traditionally beautiful, and the main character gets to be with her in the end while meanwhile, his actual best friend, who turns out to be an unfeminine black girl in real life and who obviously has a crush on him, is left behind.

Picnic At Hanging Rock - I come across this movie on gothic film recommendation lists every so often and have wanted to watch it for years, and I happened to find it on youtube, which surprised me. The original movie is from 1975 and is a cult classic for a reason. Stunning visuals and a story that leaves you confused in the just the right way. After watching it, I was itching to learn more and came across last year’s amazon prime series with Natalie Dormer and watched all six episodes, and although the series was enjoyable and a good extension for anyone who enjoys the original movie, it does not have the charm or brilliance of the original. The series expands on the story, but part of the beauty of the original movie is the way the story is told in what isn’t said, and in carefully choreographed scenes where nobody on screen says a word. I can see why the movie is called “gothic” as it has some of the trappings of the genre. It takes place in 1900 at a remote and mysterious boarding school in Australia. Three girls vanish during a school field trip, seemingly without a trace. What happened to them may have been supernatural. Or they may have been murdered, kidnapped, or run off on their own. Also, I’m pretty sure everyone is gay.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle - I’m a huge fan of the Shirley Jackson novel which this movie is an adaptation of, and unlike Netflix’s The Haunting of Hill House, this movie is actually a fairly straight adaptation of the novel. The movie captures the gothic feel of the book as well as the anxiety about gender and class from which it gets its themes, and there are solid performances all around, but the movie does seem a bit devoid of a life of its own. Despite, and possibly because of, the voice-over narration, Merricat never really comes alive as a character the way she does in the book. This is, I think, a problem with a lot of book to movie adaptations that rely on voice-overs to tell the story. I can see the appeal of this, especially with a book like this which is both heavily steeped in POV and characterized by an unreliable narrator, but I found myself really wishing the movie would just let itself tell the story rather than the narrator.

Shows

American Gods - I watched all of season two on the starz website except for the finale, which I was told that I needed to upgrade by account to watch, so if you are watching on the website or the app be aware of that. I enjoyed season two, although it lacked some of the urgency of the first season. I do enjoy some of the adaptational choices made that update the novel a bit, such as having Technology be outsourced by New Media. Also, season two saw the arrival of my daughter, Sam Black Crow. I’m also looking forward to the Lakeside subplot next season (I assume) as it’s my favorite part of the novel.

Stranger Things - I watched the first four episodes of season one when it came out, and then for some reason never finished it. I know, I know. It didn’t take me very long to watch all three seasons, which I sort of interpreted as one as a result, although I do think there’s a drop in quality somewhere in the second/third season, but overall it’s a fun show that definitely kept me interested and invested in the characters. Also, every scene relating to the upside down motivated me to clean my bathroom.

#jenny reviews

[wellntruly]

American Godz, part 1

OH YES THAT’S RIGHT. ’Twas a tie, it’s a watch.

And if you were one of the people who voted for this one, I would love hearing why you’re keen on it, so that maybe I can light some enthusiasm of my own off your spark! As is I’m kinda just….well I like critiquing the book more than I like the book, and I’m finding this to be that same peculiar whole-is-less-than-its-parts un-gestalt, now with Fuller-Slade visuals.

Bryan Fuller is a perfect choice though, even while a surely frustrated one, because this property is partway to his heart’s true desire: an anthology show. If the cable networks of the world had the nerve (or probably if Neil Gaiman did) this would be a limited run series comprised just of the “Coming To America” vignettes, which is also what should have been published originally. Free the fragmented but most emotionally legible core of the American Gods concept!

But hey, when all’s said and done I have now Very much gotten to see that sweet man get dicked down by a Jinn, which is certainly worth something.

Blitzing through this on a week free Starz, so live-blogs of episodes 1-4 ahead!

American Godz 1.1 ‘The Bone Orchard’

Jen sat me down and showed me the credits last year and I said “this makes me excited about this show.” NEON. GODS. MODERN TOTEM POLES. fuck I love a totem pole. what can I say I’m from the northwest it’s the Look.

….is ink for ink pens actually a whole lot thicker than I thought because that might explain a lot

oKAY, this arrow scene, shit, weird in a Hannibal-gruesome but Daisies-tidy kind of way! new for Fuller, this could be interesting

fearing their god would not look this far from home, I think I’m feeling an emotion

and we used to say the blood in Hannibal was a Jackson Pollock painting. how little did we know!!

also that severed arm holding a short sword does genuinely leave the frame, that is so gloriously silly

Ricky Whittle is nice. just incredibly cut and nice.

well it’s a hangin’ show, roundly

“Do not piss off those bitches in airports.” GODZ

yes really you get to go in first class, like you’re gonna stand out or something? you look like a million buuuucks Shadow. you are Glowing, that shirt so Crisp.

Ian McShane can do the Fuller dialogue pretty well, because he really doesn’t care if you get it all

the visual vocabulary really is AMERICAN Gods, and I appreciate that

wait but what kinda Old European rendering of Hollywood do we have here! what!

hang on to your drink but: the scene where a goddess eats a man with her vagina? felt kind of tame

Ian McShane just called “Heads” like he was summoning them to roll

Shadow, mustering the effort to care: “Who are you?” Sweeney, not bothering to: “I’m a leprechaun.” thank you, this show might have just got interesting

folks it was short-lived, I’m bored again. why does Mad Sweeney want to fight him? why is any of this happening like this? oh yeah because it came from the BOOK, which I have never really ENJOYED that much, for reasons such as these!

this woman’s face is so unusual

I mean David Slade sure can shoot rain

the blood in this show looks like red Jello before you put it in the fridge

American Godz 1.2 ‘The Secret of Spoons’

the very cool, slow jazz over the quiet interior of a slave ship is a oH HAI choice

ANANSI has come, to save the show

“Shit, you all don’t know you’re black yet.” oh—my god. HELLO

bury me at sea with my ancestors who jumped from ships, as the kid says

“I don’t give a fuck if they don’t have a fucking clue, *I* want one, give me a fucking clue!” lol

oh I figured out why the exterior night shots look so weird: you can’t see stars like that in town. it makes this whole show feel like it takes place in a fake indoor version of America, like Disney World. now that I’ve written it out I don’t hate it.

I don’t know if lampshading Shadow’s lack of personality is gonna work for ya, guys

Gillian Anderson is so good that you can see her and see Lucille Ball simultaneously and it just WORKS because she’s GILLIAN ANDERSON

I do not have the energy to enumerate all the things about the structuring and set-up of this story that I find poorly done, but possibly the biggest one is that Shadow, who spend three years reading a book a day in prison, “mostly history”, is supposed to have not figured out by now that his boss is Odin

I do remember that line about the boobs very clearly

incidentally, so many penises in this show

oh yay Bilquis sex-absorbs ladies too! ....oh Bryan what have you turned me into

dang Yetide, your eyes

well the Russian sibs sure are a lot more fun here than in the book

never mind Czernobog still sucks

“It’s a shame. You’re my only black friend.” I can never decide what kind of absurd Bryan Fuller is at writing about race.

well we’re two for two on me being surprised to find the episode ending. these are not actually chapters, they’re just an hour.

American Godz 1.3 ‘Head Full of Snow’

I mean exactly as with the book, the Coming To America sections are consistently the best

best

the cat still following her even in the desert!

Tiffany lamps & telescopes

and again you can see the stars

oh I would absolutely prefer to live in a world with bears in the sky, thank you

ahhhh. magic coins are Always a good thing with me.

is that SCOTT THOMPSON

“Scott Thompson: Kind Man” omgod

please let this be a genuine sweet moment

well.

hi buddy I’ve been waiting for you!

oh very interesting translation captioning! have they not translated any other languages yet?

you know that expression you see in Guillermo del Toro movies where a character’s response to a godly monster is just like

“Grandmothers came here too.” aaahhh

Salim you sweetheart!! you sweet, sweet godfucker

seriously this actor, tell me he’s getting all the jobs where you need someone to look love-struck my god he is radiant

They Did That

he’s wearing his sweater, help he’s too cute

Shadow: “Why are you talking to me about marshmallows like I’m worried about marshmallows.” Shadow: Shadow: “Yeah I like marshmallows.”

“There’s a lot of need for Jesus, so, there’s a lot of Jesus.”

still hung up on the damn snow thing but amazingly quick on his feet in a high-stakes improv setting: that’s Shadow for ya, our fill-in-the-blank non-character

American Godz 1.4 ‘Git Gone’

of course Laura works at an Ancient Egypt-themed casino

wow Past Shadow actually has a personality! “cockiness”

yes thank you for just leaping up on him girl, the logical solution to men a whole foot taller than you

haha wow, she’s so bored

haha wow she landed him in prison!

aw her face :(

yeah she’s fine here with her ENORMOUSLY FULL glass of wine

Laura is unusually apathetic. I was going to say ‘intriguingly’ but actually I don’t find a lack of interest interesting. chalk me down as “not a man” I guess.

if I died and then Anubis greeted me in a screensaver desert frankly I’d be pretty pumped

that was a very Howard Shore little creepy sound over an image that looked a lot like one of Gollum’s pale arms scrabbling in the dark

I think she just kicked that dude’s spine out of his head through his crotch, but it’s hard to tell because the visual mechanics of this scene are so completely bizarro

that was a good non-lexical “eeuugh?!” scream vocalization from full nut Audrey

“It was vulgar. I’m a…I’m a vulgar woman.”

her vision is fun now

YES black hound with Mr. Ibis, is it— it is!

they were always my favorite part

still tacky lol

**

Part 2 to come

#American Gods #Tarra takes notes #television

[blackphoenixalchemylab]

American Gods Returns To BPAL!

++ AMERICAN GODS 2017

The paradigms were shifting. He could feel it. The old world, a world of infinite vastness and illimitable resources and future, was being confronted by something else-a web of energy, of opinions, of gulfs.

People believe, thought Shadow. It's what people do. They believe. And then they will not take responsibility for their beliefs; they conjure things, and do not trust the conjurations. People populate the darkness; with ghosts, with gods, with electrons, with tales. People imagine, and people believe: and it is that belief, that rock-solid belief, that makes things happen.

The mountaintop was an arena; he saw that immediately. And on each side of the arena he could see them arrayed.

They were too big. Everything was too big in that place.

There were old gods in that place: gods with skins the brown of old mushrooms, the pink of chicken flesh, the yellow of autumn leaves. Some were crazy and some were sane. Shadow recognized the old gods. He'd met them already, or he'd met others like them. There were ifrits and piskies, giants and dwarfs. He saw the woman he had met in the darkened bedroom in Rhode Island, saw the writhing green snake-coils of her hair. He saw Mama-ji, from the carousel, and there was blood on her hands and a smile on her face. He knew them all.

He recognized the new ones, too.

Neil Gaiman is the winner of numerous literary honors and is the New York Times bestselling author of The Ocean at the End of the Lane, American Gods, Neverwhere, Stardust and Anansi Boys; the Sandman series of graphic novels; three short story collections and one book of essays, The View From the Cheap Seats.

Neil is the first author to win both the Carnegie Medal and the Newbery Medal for one work, The Graveyard Book. He also writes books for readers of all ages including the novels Fortunately, the Milk and Odd and the Frost Giants and picture books including The Sleeper and the Spindle and the Chu's Day series. Neil's most recent publication, Norse Mythology has topped bestseller lists worldwide.

Originally from England, he now lives in the USA. He is listed in the Dictionary of Literary Biography as one of the top ten living post-modern writers, and he says he owes it all to reading the Writers' & Artists' Yearbook as a young man.

This series based on Neil Gaiman's American Gods, winner of the Hugo, Nebula, Locus, SFX Magazine and Bram Stoker Awards for Best Novel, and now a Starz television series.

Visit Neil's official site, American Gods at Starz, and NeverWear.

This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single bottle go to the CBLDF, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community.

Original American Gods art by Hugo-winner Julie Dillon.

PERFUME OIL BLENDS $26.00 per 5ml bottle. Presented in an amber apothecary glass vial.

Believe

Shadow was in a dark place, and the thing staring at him wore a buffalo's head, rank and furry with huge wet eyes. Its body was a man's body, oiled and slick.

"Changes are coming," said the buffalo without moving its lips. "There are certain decisions that will have to be made." 

Firelight flickered from wet cave walls.

"Where am I?" Shadow asked.

"In the earth and under the earth," said the buffalo man. "You are where the forgotten wait." His eyes were liquid black marbles, and his voice was a rumble from beneath the world. He smelled like wet cow. "Believe," said the rumbling voice. "If you are to survive, you must believe."

"Believe what?" asked Shadow. "What should I believe?"

He stared at Shadow, the buffalo man, and he drew himself up huge, and his eyes filled with fire. He opened his spit-flecked buffalo mouth and it was red inside with the flames that burned inside him, under the earth.

"Everything," roared the buffalo man.

A scent of compression and release, of heat and faith, of plunging through the jet-shadowed darkness of uncertainty. The heart of the land: roots plunging ever deeper into thrumming black soil through the graves of faith, disillusion, and skepticism.

Bilquis

The Queen of Sheba, half-demon, they said, on her father's side, witch woman, wise woman, and queen, who ruled Sheba when Sheba was the richest land there ever was, when its spices and its gems and scented woods were taken by boat and camel-back to the corners of the earth, who was worshipped even when she was alive, worshipped as a living goddess by the wisest of kings, stands on the sidewalk of Sunset Boulevard at 2:00 A.M. staring blankly out at traffic like a slutty plastic bride on a black-and-neon wedding cake. She stands as if she owns the sidewalk and the night that surrounds her.

Honey, myrrh, lily of the valley, rose otto, fig leaf, almond, ambrette, red apple, and warm musk.

Black Hats

"So who were the guys that grabbed me in the parking lot? Mister Wood and Mister Stone? Who were they?" The lights of the car illuminated the winter landscape. Wednesday had announced that they were not to take freeways because he didn't know whose side the freeways were on, so Shadow was sticking to back roads. He didn't mind. He wasn't even sure that Wednesday was crazy.

Wednesday grunted. "Just spooks. Members of the opposition. Black hats."

"I think," said Shadow, "that they think they're the white hats."

"Of course they do. There's never been a true war that wasn't fought between two sets of people who were certain they were in the right. The really dangerous people believe that they are doing whatever they are doing solely and only because it is without question the right thing to do. And that is what makes them dangerous."

"And you?" asked Shadow. "Why are you doing what you're doing?"

"Because I want to," said Wednesday. And then he grinned. "So that's all right."

Gunpowder residue, patent leather, pomade, and aftershave.

Coin Trick

Shadow had done three years in prison. He was big enough and looked don’t-fuck-with-me enough that his biggest problem was killing time. So he kept himself in shape, and taught himself coin tricks, and thought a lot about how much he loved his wife. 

 The best thing—in Shadow’s opinion, perhaps the only good thing—about being in prison was a feeling of relief. The feeling that he’d plunged as low as he could plunge and he’d hit bottom. He didn’t worry that the man was going to get him, because the man had got him. He was no longer scared of what tomorrow might bring, because yesterday had brought it.

Glittering gold and silver, rolling over knuckles - concealed in palms - and pulled from the sun, the moon, and the stars.

Eostre of the Dawn

There was a woman sitting on the grass, under a tree, with a paper tablecloth spread in front of her, and a variety of Tupperware dishes on the cloth.

She was-not fat, no, far from fat: what she was, a word that Shadow had never had cause to use until now, was curvaceous. Her hair was so fair that it was white, the kind of platinum-blonde tresses that should have belonged to a long-dead movie starlet, her lips were painted crimson, and she looked to be somewhere between twenty-five and fifty.

As they reached her she was selecting from a plate of deviled eggs. She looked up as Wednesday approached her, put down the egg she had chosen, and wiped her hand. "Hello, you old fraud," she said, but she smiled as she said it, and Wednesday bowed low, took her hand, and raised it to his lips.

He said, "You look divine."

"How the hell else should I look?" she demanded, sweetly. "Anyway, you're a liar. New Orleans was such a mistake-I put on, what, thirty pounds there? I swear. I knew I had to leave when I started to waddle. The tops of my thighs rub together when I walk now, can you believe that?" This last was addressed to Shadow. He had no idea what to say in reply, and felt a hot flush suffuse his face. The woman laughed delightedly. "He's blushing! Wednesday, my sweet, you brought me a blusher. How perfectly wonderful of you. What's he called?"

"This is Shadow," said Wednesday. He seemed to be enjoying Shadow's discomfort. "Shadow, say hello to Easter."

Jasmine and honeysuckle, sweet milk and female skin.

For the Joy of it

In prison Shadow had learned there were two kinds of fights: don't fuck with me fights, where you made it as showy and impressive as you could, and private fights, real fights, which were fast and hard and nasty, and always over in seconds.

"Hey, Sweeney," said Shadow, breathless, "why are we fighting?"

"For the joy of it," said Sweeney, sober now, or at least, no longer visibly drunk. "For the sheer unholy fucken delight of it. Can't you feel the joy in your own veins, rising like the sap in the springtime?" His lip was bleeding. So was Shadow's knuckle.

Whiskey, mead, honey, gold, sweat, and blood.

Glass Eye

"How'd you lose your eye?"

Wednesday shoveled half a dozen pieces of bacon into his mouth, chewed, wiped the fat from his lips with the back of his hand. "Didn't lose it," he said. "I still know exactly where it is."

The depths of Mímisbrunnr: mugwort and frankincense, grey amber and ash.

Laura

There was something he wanted to say to Laura, and he was prepared to wait until he knew what it was. The world slowly began to lose light and color. Shadow's feet were going numb, while his hands and face hurt from the cold. He burrowed his hands into his pockets for warmth, and his fingers closed about the gold coin.

He walked over to the grave.

"This is for you," he said.Several shovels of earth had been emptied onto the casket, but the hole was far from full. He threw the gold coin into the grave with Laura, then he pushed more earth into the hole, to hide the coin from acquisitive grave diggers. He brushed the earth from his hands and said, "Good night, Laura." Then he said, "I'm sorry."

Violets, upturned earth, mothballs, formaldehyde (mixed with glycerin and lanolin), and the memory of the taste of strawberry daiquiris suspended in twilight.

Low Key Lyesmith

"Cigarette, sir?"

"No, thank you."

"You don't mind if I do?"

"Go right ahead."

The driver used a Bic disposable lighter, and it was in the yellow light of the flame that Shadow saw the man's face, actually saw it for the first time, and recognized him, and began to understand.

Shadow knew that thin face. He knew that there would be close-cropped orange hair beneath the black driver's cap, cut close to the scalp. He knew that when the man's lips smiled they would crease into a network of rough scars.

"You're looking good, big guy," said the driver.

"Low Key?" Shadow stared at his old cellmate warily.

Prison friendships are good things: they get you through bad places and through dark times. But a prison friendship ends at the prison gates, and a prison friend who reappears in your life is at best a mixed blessing.

"Jesus. Low Key Lyesmith," said Shadow, and then he heard what he was saying and he understood. "Loki," he said. "Loki Lie-Smith."

"You're slow," said Loki, "but you get there in the end." And his lips twisted into a scarred smile and embers danced in the shadows of his eyes.

Black clove and cassia flung onto glowing cinders and mingled with slow-dripping poisons.

Mad Sweeney

"Coin tricks is it?" asked Sweeney, his chin raising, his scruffy beard bristling. "Why, if it's coin tricks we're doing, watch this.

"He took an empty glass from the table. Then he reached out and took a large coin, golden and shining, from the air. He dropped it into the glass. He took another gold coin from the air and tossed it into the glass, where it clinked against the first. He took a coin from the candle flame of a candle on the wall, another from his beard, a third from Shadow's empty left hand, and dropped them, one by one, into the glass. Then he curled his fingrs over the glass, and blew hard, and several more golden coins dropped into the glass from his hand. He tipped the glass of sticky coins into his jacket pocket, and then tapped the pocket to show, unmistakably, that it was empty.

"There," he said. "That's a coin trick for you."

Barrel-aged whiskey and oak.

Mama-Ji

Shadow saw the old woman, her dark face pinched with age and disapproval, but behind her he saw something huge, a naked woman with skin as black as a new leather jacket, and lips and tongue the bright red of arterial blood. Around her neck were skulls, and her many hands held knives, and swords, and severed heads.

Spices, cardamom, nutmeg, and flowers.

Media

Waiting for them in front of the motel was a woman Shadow did not recognize. She was perfectly made-up, perfectly coiffed. She reminded him of every newscaster he'd ever seen on morning television sitting in a studio that didn't really resemble a living room.

"Lovely to see you," she said. "Now, you must be Czernobog. I've heard a lot about you. And you're Anansi, always up to mischief, eh? You jolly old man. And you, you must be Shadow. You've certainly led us a merry chase, haven't you?" A hand took his, pressed it firmly, looked him straight in the eye. "I'm Media. Good to meet you. I hope we can get this evening's business done as pleasantly as possible."

A news anchor's cologne, a soap star's perfume: perfect, pixelated, and glamorous; aglow with cathodes and anodes, coated with phosphor. "I offered you the world," she said. "When you're dying in a gutter, you remember that."

Mister Wednesday

His hair was a reddish gray; his beard, little more than stubble, was grayish red. A craggy, square face with pale gray eyes. The suit looked expensive, and was the color of melted vanilla ice cream. His tie was dark gray silk, and the tie pin was a tree, worked in silver: trunk, branches, and deep roots.

He held his glass of Jack Daniel's as they took off, and did not spill a drop.

Sleek cologne, the memory of a Nine Herbs Charm, gallows wood, and a splash of whiskey.

Mr. Czernobog

Shadow saw a gray-haired old Eastern-European immigrant, with a shabby raincoat and one iron-colored tooth, true. But he also saw a squat black thing, darker than the darkness that surrounded them, its eyes two burning coals; and he saw a prince, with long flowing black hair and a long black mustache, blood on his hands and his face, riding, naked but for a bear skin over his shoulder, on a creature half-man, half-beast, his face and torso blue-tattooed with swirls and spirals.

Unfiltered cigarettes, the leather and metal of sledgehammers, aortal blood slowly drying, and black incense.

Mr. Ibis

The smoke stung Shadow's eyes. He wiped the tears away with his hand, and, through the smoke, he thought he saw a tall man in a suit, with gold-rimmed spectacles. The smoke cleared and the boatman was once more a half-human creature with the head of a river bird.

Papyrus, vanilla flower, Egyptian musk, African musk, aloe ferox, white sandalwood.

Mr. Jacquel

Shadow looked up at the creature. "Mr. Jacquel?" he said.

The hands of Anubis came down, huge dark hands, and they picked Shadow up and brought him close.

The jackal head examined him with bright and glittering eyes; examined him as dispassionately as Mr. Jacquel had examined the dead girl on the slab. Shadow knew that all his faults, all his failings, all his weaknesses were being taken out and weighed and measured; that he was, in some way, being dissected, and sliced, and tasted.

We do not remember the things that do no credit to us. We justify them, cover them in bright lies or with the thick dust of forgetfulness. All of the things that Shadow had done in his life of which he was not proud, all the things he wished he had done otherwise or left undone, came at him then in a swirling storm of guilt and regret and shame, and he had nowhere to hide from them. He was as naked and as open as a corpose on a table, and dark Anubis the jackal god was his prosector and his prosecutor and his persecutor.

"Please," said Shadow. "Please stop."

But the examination did not stop. Every lie he had ever told, every object he had stolen, every hurt he had inflicted on another person, all the little crimes and the tiny murders that make up the day, each of these things and more were extracted and held up to the light by the jackal-headed judge of the dead.

Golden amber, hyssop, North African patchouli, and embalming spices.

Shadow

"How the hell did you find me here?" he asked his dead wife.

She shook her head slowly, amused. "You shine like a beacon in a dark world," she told him. "It wasn't that hard..."

Grey oudh and bay rum luminous with amber.

Technical Boy

The fat young man at the other end of the stretch limo took a can of diet Coke from the cocktail bar and popped it open. He wore a long black coat, made of some silky material, and he appeared barely out of his teens: a spattering of acne glistened on one cheek. He smiled when he saw that Shadow was awake."Hello, Shadow," he said. "Don't fuck with me."

It's all about the dominant fucking paradigm, Shadow. Nothing else is important: vape smoke and burning electrical parts.

The Ifrit

The taxi driver comes out of the shower, wet, with a towel wrapped around his midsection. He is not wearing his sunglasses, and in the dim room his eyes burn with scarlet flames.

Salim blinks back tears. "I wish you could see what I see," he says.

"I do not grant wishes," whispers the ifrit, dropping his towel and pushing Salim gently, but irresistibly, down onto the bed.

Desert sand, red musk, blackened ginger, dragon's blood resin, black pepper, cinnamon, and tobacco.

The Norns' Farmhouse

The farmhouse was dark and shut up. The meadows were overgrown and seemed abandoned. The farm roof was crumbling at the back; it was covered in black plastic sheeting. They jolted over a ridge and Shadow saw it there.

It was silver-gray and it was higher than the farm-house. It was the most beautiful tree Shadow had ever seen: spectral and yet utterly real and almost perfectly symmetrical. It also looked instantly familiar: he wondered if he had dreamed it, then he realized that no, he had seen it before, or a representation of it man, many times. It was Wednesday's silver tie pin.

The VW bus jolted and bumped across the meadow, and it came to a stop about twenty feet from the trunk of the tree.

There were three women standing by the tree. At first glance Shadow thought they were the Zorya, but no, they were three women he did not know. They looked tired and bored, as if they had been standing there a long time. Each of them held a wooden ladder. The biggest also carried a brown sack. They looked like a set of Russian dolls: a tall one - she was Shadow's height, or even taller - a middle-sized one, and a woman so short and hunched that at first glance Shadow wrongly supposed her to be a child. They looked so much alike that Shadow was certain the women must be sisters.

The smallest of the women dropped to a curtsey when the bus drew up. The other two just stared. They were sharing a cigarette, and they smoked it down to the filter before one of them stubbed it out against a root.

Dusty, ancient wood, horehound, and sage, with viper's bugloss, mugwort, chamomile, nettle, apple blossom, chervil, and ashes.

Zorya Polunochnaya

Her hair was pale and colorless in the moon's thin light. She wore a white cotton nightgown, with a high lace neck and a hem that swept the ground. Shadow sat up, entirely awake. "You are Zorya Polu . . . ," he hesitated. "The sister who was asleep."

"I am Zorya Polunochnaya, yes. And you are called Shadow, yes? That was what Zorya Vechernyaya told me, when I woke."

"Yes. What were you looking at, out there?"

She looked at him, then she beckoned him to join her by the window. She turned her back while he pulled on his jeans. He walked over to her. It seemed a long walk, for such a small room.

He could not tell her age. Her skin was unlined, her eyes were dark, her lashes were long, her hair was to her waist and white. The moonlight drained colors into ghosts of themselves. She was taller than either of her sisters.

She pointed up into the night sky. "I was looking at that," she said, pointing to the Big Dipper. "See?"

"Ursa Major," he said. "The Great Bear."

"That is one way of looking at it," she said. "But it is not the way from where I come from. I am going to sit on the roof. Would you like to come with me?" 

Pale amber and ambergris, gossamer vanilla, moonflower, and white tobacco petals.

Zorya Utrennyaya

"Why you are standing at the door?" asked a woman's voice. Shadow looked over Czernobog's shoulder, at the old woman standing behind him. She was smaller and frailer than her sister, but her hair was long and still golden. "I am Zorya Utrennyaya," she said. "You must not stand there in the hall. You must go in, sit down. I will bring you coffee."

Sweet black coffee and a touch of ambrette seed.

Zorya Vechernyaya

"You see, I am the only one of us who brings in any money. The other two cannot make money fortune-telling. This is because they only tell the truth, and the truth is not what people want to hear. It is a bad thing, and it troubles people, so they do not come back. But I can lie to them, tell them what they want to hear. So I bring home the bread." 

Red musk and wild plum, orange blossom and jasmine, juniper berries, sweet incense and vetiver-laced sandalwood. ++ AMERICAN GODS 2017: ATMOSPHERE SPRAYS 

Bone Orchard

Back in prison, Low Key Lyesmith had once referred to the little prison cemetery out behind the infirmary as the Bone Orchard, and the image had taken root in Shadow's mind. That night he had dreamed of an orchard under the moonlight, of skeletal white trees, their branches ending in bony hands, their roots going deep down into the graves. There was fruit that grew upon the trees in the bone orchard, in his dream, and there was something very disturbing about the fruit in the dream, but on waking he could no longer remember what strange fruit grew on the trees, nor why he found it so repellent.

Clacking white sandalwood bones, grave soil, and the bruise-purple fruits of death and decay.

Crocodile Bar

It was getting late. He was hungry, and when he realized how hungry he really was, he pulled off at the next exit and drove into the town of Nottamun (pop. 1301). He filled the gas tank at the Amoco and asked the bored woman at the cash register where he could get something to eat.

"Jack's Crocodile Bar," she told him. "It's west on County Road N."

"Crocodile Bar?"

"Yeah. Jack says they add character." She drew him a map on the back of a mauve flyer, which advertised a chicken roast for the benefit of a young girl who needed a new kidney. "He's got a couple of crocodiles, a snake, one a them big lizard things."

"An iguana?"

"That's him."Through the town, over a bridge, on for a couple of miles, and he stopped at a low, rectangular building with an illuminated Pabst sign.

The parking lot was half empty. Inside the air was thick with smoke and "Walking After Midnight" was playing on the jukebox. Shadow looked around for the crocodiles, but could not see them. He wondered if the woman in the gas station had been pulling his leg.

Cedar shavings, a swirl of booze, a flattened French fry, and barbeque sauce.

That’s it for now, everyone -- Don’t forget to see AMERICAN GODS shine on Starz starting April 30!

#neil gaiman #american gods #comic book legal defense fund #julie dillon #bpal

[boyga-king]

Some Thoughts on American Gods (as adapted by the Starz Network) ((Mostly the Finale I Guess))

Bear with me, I’ve done no research, these are just my opinions and conjectures. Some spoilers.

The people behind this show are connoisseurs of good TV. They found good material that came with an author who has learned good lessons about the transition from book to film, a pretty fantastic cast, and a general idea of how they wanted things to go. Really I think the main flaws in the series come in where the ideas conflict with the framing of the story, so that’s where I’m going to focus this... Jesus, I guess it’s a review.

Like most media, television shows usually stick to a certain aesthetic, motif, and/or style in order to communicate the right feelings without having to outright tell the audience or set up the emotion with a page or two of justification. However, in several segments of this show, the backdrop motif has shifted significantly from scene to scene, which is a very cool portrayal of the effect these sort-of mighty beings have on the world and the humans around them. The only issue occurs when gods with conflicting associated styles occupy the same frame. Ostara’s domain covers the candy bright Spring sold at grocery stores each year. It merges well with Media’s VistaVision crispness (in Judy Garland mode), but when Wednesday comes out to play, the aesthetics cancel instead of conflicting. In order to accommodate this conflict, a lot more work would need to go into the editing. I get the feeling the editors at Starz are too used to the traditional style to do cool, innovative things like the effect of the gods on the background.

This post was going to have structure but I set it up wrong and I’m tired. Here’s some disorganized thoughts.

The honchos saw Hannibal and tried to apply it. But they blew their whole budget on fake blood and none on tasteful designers.

Honestly that whole last scene seems to have been planned by someone more used to stage than screen. There are too many moving parts for the camera to take in all at once, so it just cuts back and forth between the ”Top Five Things We Should Keep An Eye On!” while the lyrical speeches fight the “background” music for the ear of the audience. I really wish they hadn’t tried to choreograph the faceless suitors so much, especially since their splitting into duplicates was so messy. Imagine with me for a second. Media is talking to Ostara. Her gentleman is behind her. The camera points at Ostara’s face as she starts lying to Media. She stutters on the last word, surprised. The camera is pointed back at Media. There are three gentlemen now. This keeps happening as Media begins to crack a little. Technology Boy doesn’t come from the split of gentlemen (that was dumb) he steps out from behind Media. Mr. World... needs a different avatar. Possessing your underling’s underlings? Lame. (Him being rendered in cgi as compared to the other characters is a nice touch, but the shifting pixel fractals are too much) Also the pauses in his line from the fallen gentleman’s face fit too well with the flickering of the rendered face to seem organic.

The antagonists kinda suck, and the blame for that lies somewhere between the writing, the performance, and the direction of the New Gods. Media is good but Technology Boy is being written by somebody that only vaguely knows how brats stereo-typically act. Also he has the one bad wardrobe in this entire show. I think they told the designer to just buy cool looking future-y fashion clothes. He just looks ridiculous all the time. Mr. World can’t line read for shit and the director isn’t compensating for that. 

I love it, really I do. The themes of the book mostly get through. Starz is clearly new at this. It’ll get better. A Prayer for Mad Sweeney was beautiful the whole way through, but man was that ever a long tangent. The bluesy music overlay of Laura-Moon-as-the-Irish-con-woman’s life was masterful.

the end, g’night

#i have opinions #american gods #spoilers

[librarianladyx]

Book meme

Rules: Complete the qualities with books you’ve read or want to read (novels, plays, stories, etc.) then tag some friends.

Book I love: This is hard, because I have a couple of books that are like dear friends.  If I had to pick just one, it would likely be East of Eden, by John Steinbeck.  I was one of those weird kids in high school who actually liked and was touched by Grapes of Wrath (I seemed to be the only one?).  I particularly loved how Steinbeck could create these sweeping descriptions and emotional scenes with such an economy of words (I know what you’re probably thinking—Grapes of Wrath is a pretty long book, you’re right—but think of everything that goes on in there!). So, when I saw East of Eden in the store, I figured it was worth a shot. I had no idea what I was in for—this book practically stopped my poor almost-a-religion-minor heart.  And while the parallels to Cain and Abel, and the characters’ discussions of fate versus free will are incredibly interesting (I get why there are so many people with timshel tattoos inspired by this book), I am also continually surprised by how much I understand and am touched by his characters, even when they are nothing like me. I read East of Eden again about a year ago, to see if I still found it to be as moving as I did before, and I ended up marking up even more passages of the book. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to loan out my copy without at least a little bit of embarrassment.

Book I hate: @amarguerite, we are almost twins, because my most hated book is A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway, and for pretty much the same reason! One of my hangups when reading books, particularly “classic novels,” is how much trouble male authors seem to have including women in their books and making the women that do appear sound like real women.  This hangup was formed while reading A Farewell to Arms. Catherine is so terribly one-dimensional, it made even little high-school me wonder if Hemingway had ever actually listened to a woman in his life, or even entertained the thought that women were people with complex thoughts and desires.

Book I think is underestimated: This is hard for me, because I haven’t read a lot of what is considered classic literature in the past few years, and I feel like this is a question about books/authors already in the “literary canon” or bestsellers. Coming from that angle, a classic book that resonated with me in an unexpected way is One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, by Ken Kesey.  I know, it’s been made into a movie, so how could it be underestimated, but after studying the law and learning about different approaches to punishment, and theories behind why we, as a society, are allowed to punish those who break the law, and I feel like the choices Kesey made in setting up his society-in-a-microcosm in the mental ward were all the more masterful.  I was so moved, I ended up writing one of the best—and longest—papers of my entire academic career on it, so I’m going to stop now before it gets too weird.  Seriously, though, if you haven’t read it, you should—it’s a moving takedown of authoritarian societies and justice systems. :)

Book I think is overvalued: Again, agree with @amarguerite about Hemingway. Ugh. If we’re talking in terms of popularity (if not academic acclaim), I don’t understand the love for the Magicians Trilogy, by Lev Grossman.  It just did not click with me on any level, which is odd, because more than one person recommended it to me, all three books are bestsellers, and it’s now been made into a TV series.

Book I want to see in a movie version: The Golem and the Jinni, by Helene Wecker. I used to have two main answers to this question, The Golem and the Jinni and American Gods (by Neil Gaiman), but I was lucky enough to get an American Gods series with Bryan Fuller (and Hannibal had AMAZING visuals, which is a thing any adaptation of American Gods needs, so I’m hopeful about the show), so I’m now down to one.  I absolutely love The Golem and the Jinni, and I feel like there’s a lot of interesting entry points that would be good for a movie: turn-of-the-last-century New York City (architecture! fashions!), the immigrant experience, the intersection of different religions, magic/miracles, a canon-handsome leading male character, and much more.  If the writers could get Chava right (I love her), I think it could be a real success!

If I can adapt something into a TV series instead of a movie, I would absolutely love to see the October Daye series by Seanan McGuire get the STARZ/HBO treatment.  I want to talk more about this series below, because I love it and it means a lot to me, but quickly, I think it has this great mix of awesome characters and intricate (but understandable) plotting that would be great for a multi-season show.

Side note, please don’t ask me about the movie version of East of Eden. I don’t have a nice thing to say, so I shouldn’t say anything at all.

Last book I read/in progress: I am currently reading John Darnielle’s Universal Harvester.  I very much want to finish, and the fact that I am currently temporarily stalled is totally on me and my schedule, not the book, which is really interesting so far! In fact, there was a section in the part I have already read that I felt was so moving, I forced @kcrabb88 to listen to me read it out loud.  

Book or saga I want to finish: Luckily, Seanan McGuire is still writing the October Daye books.  I will buy and read every single one that comes out, for as long as she wants to write in that world.  Whenever I pick up one of these books to read, it feels like I am reuniting with old friends.  Her characters are just so relatable and human, even if most of the characters themselves are not actually humans. Also, McGuire’s plotting is so well-thought-out, I can just kick back and enjoy the books without worrying that there’s going to be something that takes me out of the action.  This is not to say that the plot lines aren’t incredibly interesting—there are plot points set up in the first two books that are paying off now, for instance.  I just can’t give these books enough praise. I am deeply indebted to Ms. McGuire for writing the series, and for my friend who got me into it (at a time when I desperately needed it).  If you have any interest in reading them, let me know!

Book or saga I don’t want to finish: I started the Kim Harrison Hollows/Rachel Morgan series, and while I liked the first two (or three?) books, I ended up having to stop.  I think the worldbuilding is really great in these books, but I didn’t really connect with the characters.

Next book: I have a couple that I’d like to read, like Magic for Nothing, by Seanan McGuire, and some of the Andrew Lang Fairy Books that I bought as a gift for myself, but I will be honest and say that I will probably re-read American Gods, because I have a terrible memory, and I don’t want to forget or miss things that will be happening in the show (again, please let the show be good).

The worst end: I am terrible, and usually quit a book if I don’t like the direction it seems to be taking, so nothing comes immediately to mind.  One book I do remember finishing and then wanting to put directly in the trash was Sister Carrie, by Theodore Dreisler.  There was simply nothing likeable about any of the characters in the book, the plot was molasses-slow, and no one gets any kind of good or redemptive ending.  It was infuriating from beginning to end.

On that happy note, thanks to @amarguerite and @kcrabb88 for tagging me! I promise I love Les Mis, too, I just had to make really hard choices up there.

I absolutely no-stress, no-obligation tag @selfishjean, @lotusmira, and @robertawickham (if you guys haven’t already been tagged), and anyone else who might be interested!

#meme answers #books! #east of eden #john steinbeck #the golem and the jinni #helene wecker #american gods #neil gaiman #october daye #seanan mcguire #one flew over the cuckoo's nest #ken kesey #universal harvester #john darnielle #amarguerite #kcrabb88 #long post

[gehayi]

To my followers: DO NOT WATCH “AMERICAN GODS”

Everyone seems to be freaking out over the sex scene in the first episode of the Starz version of American Gods.

No one seems remotely unglued by the final scene in the same episode--the attempted lynching of a black man. 

Shadow’s brutal beating at the hands of Technical (White) Boy’s digital constructs was hard to take, too, but I did know that Shadow would get attacked eventually. I just wasn’t expecting it in the first episode. I expected rising escalation for three or four episodes--attempts to persuade and then suborn Shadow, threats, and then assault.  Not having the first move be “Kill him.”

But a silent, white-clad mob attempting to hang a battered, bleeding, black man...that I was not expecting. Why would I? It doesn’t happen in the book.

Oh, Shadow doesn’t die...yet. But he doesn’t succeed in saving himself, either. He’s saved by a mysterious force that cuts the mob of constructs into bleeding chunks.  (This also does not happen in the book.) And it’s implied--or I felt it was--that his mysterious employer, Mr. Wednesday, is the one who saved him**. And Wednesday has the form of a white man. 

So, to recap, we have a white villain and a white mentor/boss deciding whether a black man lives or dies in a lynching. The black man--who is the protagonist-hero of this piece, remember--gets no say. He can fight back, but he cannot save himself. 

On the one hand, the non-lynching part of the episode is pretty good, and the show has a diverse cast, which I feel should be supported. On the other hand, the evil that it’s showing is a reality for a lot of people. I’m not comfortable with Starz treating lynching, albeit a lynching shown to be horrible, as an acceptable scene in a TV show--even one rated MA for mature.

 And, fundamentally, I don’t trust Starz not to show more scenes like this.

I looked forward to the televised version of American Gods for over a year. Now I’m sorry that I even saw the first episode.

Looks like I’ve got a subscription to cancel.

**  Another character called Mad Sweeney asks Shadow earlier, “Do you know who he REALLY is?”; Wednesday boasts of always getting what he wants and we see him getting what he wants several times, even in improbable circumstances; Wednesday said that “Wednesday is my”--and “Wednesday” comes from two words meaning “Wotan’s (or Odin’s) day”; and the first scene stated that the god of some Norse explorers was a god of war who was drawn to battle and who could be pleased by people gouging out one eye (Odin again).  I thought that it was pretty strongly implied in the first episode that Wednesday is Odin, one of the titular gods, and since Shadow is (so far as we know) non-magical and since we haven’t met anyone else mysterious--except for Mad Sweeney, who says he’s a leprechaun, and a talking buffalo who appeared in a dream of Shadow’s--Wednesday seemed, in my opinion, to be the only possible source for Shadow’s rescue.

#american gods (starz series) #lynching tw #all the trigger warnings

[invisira]

I just read The Song of Achilles and it's SO FUCKING GOOD but also sad cause you know what's going to happen but you don't want it to. I surprised myself by crying at the ending (also I couldn't help picturing the MCs as Noct and Prompto). Anything good you read?

I’ve been meaning to read that for some time now. I’ve never gotten around to actually buying it, though. But I’m so ready to be hurt by this book and it’s gonna be even worse now that I’ll have Noctis and Prompto in the back of my mind (THANKS). I’ll probably cry, too.

And hoo boy do I have A List for you:

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo - A very interesting world with a cool concept of magic, very gritty, teenagers getting into trouble and also making friend while stealing shit, LGBT characters, and Kaz

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton - I love how this book calls into question about the “just because you can doesn’t mean you should” thought process & I find it a lot better than the movie, also dinosaurs

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman - there’s a bookworm angel, a demon who yells at plants, a hellhound named “dog”, and an apocalypse. Much ensues

American Gods by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (conveniently there’s a TV series for this coming to Starz in April) - I can’t begin to describe this book so you should just watch this trailer (warning: there’s blood)

Night Angel Trilogy by Brent Weeks - Definitely one of my favorites, although I’d say it’s not for everyone. It’s very dark and bloody, a world full of magic, shows the consequences of what it means to be a hero, Durzo Blint stole my heart and I’ll never get it back

Retribution Falls by Chris Wooding - Steampunk flying machines, lots of weird shit, you’ll probably want to punch Frey in the face several times (I know I did)

Ice Massacre by Tiana Warner - Lesbians. Canon lesbians. Also mermaids that’ll make you piss yourself.

The Age of Fire by E. E. Knight - I love anything to do with dragons and this series has one of the most interesting take on them that I’ve seen thus far, the other races (elves, dwarves, humans) are all fairly run of the mill but again this is a book about dragons. Warning that the last few books really decrease in quality of writing and in plot, though.

His Majesy’s Dragon by Naomi Novik - The Napoleon War. With dragons. Needs must I say more?

#i have so many books that i have read and this is just the ones off the top of my head #i need to really find more LGBT books #especially ones that are sci-fi/fantasy #that shit is my jam #noct replies #soysaucesweater

[elwright13]

Crispin Glover as ” Mr. World” in the Starz series American Gods

On June 16th and 17th at Alamo Drafthouse (Omaha ), I attended both nights of Crispin Glover’s appearance consisting of live performances, film screenings, Q&As, and book signings. And what a great time it was! Crispin Glover is one of the most wonderfully gracious, down-to-earth, and intelligent people I’ve met. His live performances films and should be experienced firsthand, because they defy easy description. But I’m going to try anyway.

Before I get to that, I want to foreground this review by saying that I didn’t know too much of what to expect from the event or from Crispin himself, and didn’t want to bias my opinion of the event by reading detailed reviews in advance. Aside from enjoying Crispin’s quirky performances in various films (including his recent role as “Mr. World” in the Starz series American Gods), I didn’t know much about him as a person, aside from media articles describing him as” eccentric” or even “crazy,” two terms that are neither equivalent nor interchangeable. Usually, the “evidence” for the “crazy” label consists of speculation about his cringe-inducing first appearance on Letterman in the late 1980s, or the fact that he used to collect antique medical equipment (a fun-sounding hobby that mostly makes me feel envious). As I discussed in an earlier post, “crazy” is a nebulous label, a sloppy blanket term for a range of behaviors and attitudes that don’t necessarily indicate actual mental illness. I’m not just carping about the descriptor “crazy” merely because Crispin Glover clearly isn’t.  I also find it egregious because it’s an intellectually lazy way to dismiss someone whose ideas or behaviors are merely inconvenient, outside the status-quo, or fail to support one’s own agenda. More on this later.

An unexpected reference to bestiality in “Rat Catching”

This isn’t to say that Crispin’s artistic output isn’t eccentric or massively weird, because it is. If you have the opportunity to attend both nights, do so. There is some overlap in content but not so much as to be overly redundant. Both nights began with variations of “Crispin Hellion Glover’s Big Slide Show,” in which Crispin crawled out from somewhere beneath the stage (literally) and then presented dramatic reading of several of his books accompanied by a powerpoint presentation of the book text and illustrations. Most of Crispin’s books consist of Victorian-era texts and illustrations, which have been redacted, recombined, and annotated in ways that transform the narrative entirely, usually making it funny or into absolute nightmare fuel. For example, “Rat Catching” contains a surprise reference to bestiality. Other books, such as “Round My House,” consisted of Crispin’s original text, reprinted from his own handwriting. This was my favorite among the books available for purchase at the event and on his website. The others were out of print or never printed for distribution in the first place. My favorite among these was “The Backward Swing.” Crispin’s dramatic reading style most often further mutated or obfuscated the meaning of the text, because he would often read with an emotion that didn’t seem to fit the text, or would read in a counter-intuitive cadence or put emphasis on atypical words. I enjoy the books themselves, but would argue that they are best experienced when performed by Crispin himself.

Poster for It is Fine! Everything is Fine

Following the Big Slide Show on night one was a screening of It is Fine! Everything is Fine, which is directed by Crispin as part two if the “IT” trilogy. Part one, What is It? was screened the second night. In retrospect, I think I understand his reasoning for screening his films out of order. It is Fine! is a good way to warm up audience members who attended both nights, because of the two films, it is more palatable for mainstream audiences. Moreover, it’s in some ways helpful to learn about the screenwriter and lead actor Steven C. Stewart before seeing the first film. Steven C. Stewart, who had a severe case of cerebral palsy, portrays a serial killer who has a fetish for women with long hair. I won’t spoil this film for readers as I tend to do. While there are several taboo elements in It is Fine!, it’s a film with a coherent, linear plot.

Promotional still for What is It?

That said, the oddities of the Big Slide Show and It is Fine! did not adequately prepare me for seeing part one of the “IT” trilogy, What is It?, which Crispin describes as, “Being the adventures of a young man whose principle interests are snails, salt, a pipe, and how to get home. As tormented by an hubristic, racist inner psyche” ( the racist inner psyche is portrayed by Crispin himself). In his Q&A afterward (as in interviews which can be read online), he states that one controversial element was the fact that the cast of What is It? consisted almost entirely of actors who had Down syndrome portraying characters who do not necessarily have Down syndrome. That’s really only one of many controversial aspects of the film. I would go so far to say that there is something potentially offensive or disturbing for every viewer. Some of those things include excessive use of Nazi swasticas, screaming snails, and unsimulated sex scenes involving women in animal masks. In multiple interviews, Crispin said his goal in making What is It?  is for audience members to ask themselves, “Is this right what I’m watching? Is this wrong what I’m watching? Should I be here? Should the filmmaker have done this? What is it?” It worked. Among the things that pushed my personal buttons were gratuitous scenes of snail-killing and some…unique soundtrack choices that included Johnny Rebel’s rendition of “Some Niggers Never Die (They Just Smell That Way)”  and selected songs by Charles Manson. To clarify, these songs were played in the main character’s subconscious by the aforementioned “hubristic, racist inner psyche,” which didn’t prevent me from dying a little on the inside anyway. 

To say What is It? is disturbing is an understatement. More specifically, I actually found it more disturbing than one of my perennial favorite movies, A Serbian Film, and as least as disturbing as my friend Andrey Iskanov’s Unit 731 quasi-documentary film Philosophy of a Knife. I don’t mean this in a disparaging way at all. In contrast to a lot of big-budget dreck that is entertaining in the moment but which leaves you without a thought in your head, What is It?, like the other disturbing films I mentioned above, is not necessarily pleasant to watch , but is something to be appreciated in the long term precisely because it is thought-provoking.

Which brings us to the Q&A sessions, which were an oasis of calm rationality after the strangeness of the dramatic readings and the films themselves. In response to each question, Crispin gave thorough, intellectual answers that reminded me of my favorite professors’ lectures in film theory classes and from subsequent graduate school behavioral science courses. Although each night’s roughly two-hour Q&A had a different overall focus, one unifying theme was Crispin’s argument that corporately-funded films function as a type of propaganda because they discourage audience members from asking questions of any kind. Another observation was, and I hope I am paraphrasing this appropriately, that corporate films are intended for the eyes of children, because anything that could make an audience member uncomfortable is excised. I very much appreciated his in-depth insights and discussions in this subject, in part because I have a similar perception of such films. For over a decade, I’ve believed that most mainstream, corporately-funded films force the filmmaker to take a “No Child Left Behind” approach to storytelling, insofar that even if a film has subject matter deemed not suitable for children, that film is ultimately scripted and edited in such a way so that even the most intoxicated or least intelligent test screening audience member can understand it. Additionally, it seems that the budget of a film is inversely related to how taboo it is “allowed” to be. While that isn’t a terrible thing for every type of film, it’s obviously deleterious for horror films and any other type of film that by nature needs to convey things that are disturbing or controversial.

Crispin Glover as the screaming hair fetishist “The Thin Man” in Charlie’s Angels

Since What is It? was a reaction to corporate straightjacketing, it’s not entirely without irony that a significant a percent of Crispin’s acting work is in corporately funded and distributed films. However, that doesn’t indicate that Crispin’s views on corporate propaganda are somehow inauthentic, but rather that corporate control over the U.S. entertainment industry is so ubiquitous that it’s virtually impossible for an artist to detach entirely from the system. Crispin states that he used income from Charlie’s Angels and other corporately-funded films to cover the cost of making his independent films What is It? and It is Fine! Which brings me back to the issue of some journalists labeling Crispin as “crazy” or some variant on the term. On one level, it may just be an attempt to entertain celebrity gossip junkies or reflective of a common difficulty in separating an artist from his work product, but on another, more insidious level, it is also an easy way to dismiss Crispin’s more subversive views about the U.S. entertainment industry.

Crispin’s Q&A sessions weren’t restricted to professor-like discussions about corporate propaganda and relevant works by  Noam Chomsky and Edward Bernays. He also discussed the influence of the Surrealist movement on his own work and shared several humorous personal anecdotes, including his intent behind his first appearance on Letterman. (I won’t reveal the answer here.) The fact that he openly answers questions in his Q&A sessions that he will not answer in typical media interviews is yet another reason to attend his live performances and film screenings. 

Finally meeting Crispin at his book signing Friday night

  After the Q&A sessions concluded, both evenings ended with a book signing. While it was a long wait to meet Crispin (I didn’t make it home until 2 a.m. on Friday and 1 a.m. on Saturday), I’m glad I did, and appreciated the opportunity to speak with him one-on-one. A staff member at Alamo Drafthouse told me that they had recommended that he spend only two minutes with each guest, but he generously spent quite a bit more time with those who wanted to talk. As I mentioned earlier, he was very gracious and grounded, and also genuinely interested in each guest and in hearing their feedback about his presentations and films. Even though I intended to not bring up weird or inappropriate topics, my conversation with Crispin started benignly and then evolved to an academic discussion about paraphilias. Fortunately, he seemed unfazed.

Crispin is currently writing a book about propaganda (I can’t wait for it to be released) and completing an untitled film starring his father, Bruce Glover. Visit crispinglover.com to sign up for his newsletter, buy his books, and get information about his tour dates.

#IFTTT #WordPress