billyjepma's reviews
628 reviews

I read the first novella in this lovely little duology right after the election results were confirmed, and was saving its follow-up for Inauguration Day. On both counts, it provided precisely the balm I needed and hoped for. Neither of these books will end up as lasting favorites for me—there’s not enough depth to the storytelling for it to linger in that way. Chambers is a wonderful writer whose words are a joy to read, though. There’s something soothing to the way she strings a sentence together, in how conversations move around and through different subjects and feelings at a lilting but attentive tempo. While I wish she let some of those conversations simmer more, instead of explaining things so thoroughly, I see the merit in her didacticism. This is a “cozy book,” first and foremost, so the philosophical tensions I’m drawn to in this world probably don’t fit the aims of the book itself. And that’s okay; I’m very happy to receive the book on its terms, especially when those terms are this endearing.

I continue to like the broad strokes Craig is doing with this story, but the execution isn’t clicking for me the way I want. His artwork is as expressive as ever—although there were more times than usual when I couldn’t quite track the momentum from panel to panel—and the colors continue to be a major highlight. This world is so cool to look at, and if I keep going with the series, which I think I will, it’ll be to see more of it. I just hope the plot starts to find something more distinct because so many of the major story beats are either derivative or move too fast to carry much dramatic heft.

Oh wow, so when people said this was really good, they meant it was really good. I can’t count on one hand the number of Spidey books I’ve picked up, but having recently read Hickman’s run on X-Men and hearing so much good stuff about his take on Spider-Man, I had to give it a go. And Hickman killed it. He makes this stuff look so easy when I know it’s not, but the biggest takeaway from this first volume is that it makes being a superhero feel fresh, fun, and breezy in ways I didn’t know I was missing. It might not be a revelatory twist on his origin story or character, but the iterations are universally smart and play to our preconceived notions of these characters and their world in so many clever ways that always feel authentic. I also can’t overstate how neat it is to read a major superhero comic where action scenes aren’t the point of any issue. Instead, all the tension comes from the character dynamics and the anxiety of seeing Peter learn how to use his powers and deal with the dilemmas they’ve introduced into his life.

Checchetto’s art is predictably great, especially with the character designs. I might’ve liked to see him do something more original with the suit, but he does the classic style very well. I’ve always loved the texture he brings to a book, and this doesn’t change that, especially with Wilson on coloring duty, who always delivers the goods. I liked Messina’s work, also, and I thankfully didn’t find the shift between his and Checchetto’s work jarring. Messina is a little stiffer in places, but he also does some cool things with the compositions that I dug. It’s an appropriately good-looking read I’m very eager to get more of. Here’s hoping Hickman and company keep it going for a good long while.

I can't remember the last time I started and finished an entire trilogy in less than a year, much less within a single month. But something about Brown's heavy metal pacing, chest-beating storytelling, and open-heart mentality (balanced with a steady feed of political nihilism) absolutely took me over. I've already talked about my nitpicks with his writing and how he tends to limit himself, and those don't change much with this third outing. Neither does his ability to craft a helluva ride, though, as Morning Star, despite having the clunkiest plotting of the three, is still a sucker punch of a page-turner. The fact that the ending fell more-or-less flat for me only reinforces how much the rest of the book's many successes worked for me. Brown writes his best action sequence yet in the second half of this one—it might be one of the best examples of sci-fi spectacle I've encountered in a novel in a very long time—and his penchant for writing balletic carnage remains second to none, arguably. I lost track of how many times I was audibly hooting and/or hollering during these fight scenes.

My issue is the plotting, but unlike my issues with the plot of Red Rising, which was too familiar at times, Morning Star stumbles over what seems to be a self-inflicted race against time. As exciting a writer as Brown is, he writes this book as if the ground were falling from under him, and I don't know why. There are at least two books worth of plot here, and only one of them really pays off by the end. I started to get nervous when I had 80 pages left, and we still hadn't started the proper climax. The climax we get is solid but rushed, and the mechanics behind its construction and pay-off were so obvious I spotted them from the jump, and nothing in the subsequent execution convinced me it was the best way to carry things across the finish line. After the breakneck pace and thorny conflicts of Golden Son, I was a little let down by how formulaic or truncated parts of Morning Star were. Characterizations occasionally felt self-indulgent, like Brown was catering to caricature versions of his cast to give his fans some love. I'm not opposed to fan service, but its use here doesn't entirely work for me. 

What did work—outside of everything I already talked about—is the continued emphasis on the messy, ugly contradictions of war and the ethics of a "hero" whose path to freedom is drenched in blood. Darrow's aims are just, and I love how the series isn't afraid to use its righteous anger at a vicious system to commentate on our world. But Brown is smart enough to highlight how any revolution will look evil from someone's perspective. He pulls off a tricky balancing act (in this book especially) between the thrills of a hero taking down an oppressor and the horror that such a victory necessitates. This might've been a rockier read than I'd hoped after the incredible high of Golden Son, but it did little to dull my eagerness about getting to the next series of books. If Brown can continue to iterate on his storytelling and iron out some of the kinks, his series will very likely earn itself a high spot on my shelf of all-timers.

I’ll confess to not finding this to be revelatory—probably because I’ve known all of its major beats for so long, despite never reading the story itself front to back—but even with that caveat, this is such a flawless distillation of what makes Superman the best superhero to ever grace the pages of a book. Morrison’s plotting can be a little choppy, intentionally so, I’d wager, considering the anthology-like structure was likely crafted to better fit the staggered release schedule. But what it lacks in fluidity, it more than makes up for with big, emotional swings that all land as intended. It’s simultaneously a “greatest hits” for the hero and the medium, capturing all of the timeless allure and heart that makes both so enduring. 

Quitely’s pencils are all stunners, too, and take some already great scripts to new heights with gorgeous displays of emotionally charged visual storytelling. All of the iconic images are amazing, of course (that kiss on the moon belongs in a museum, probably), but there are dozens and dozens of panels with amazing details and flourishes, whether it be spectacle, character, comedy, or something else. I’m not always a fan of this style of digital coloring, admittedly, but Grant’s work was an exception to that, more often than not. The vibrancy of the pages is pitch-perfect and helps bring out all of the best bits in Morrison’s tone and Quitely’s storytelling.

There’s a tired trope in the first 50 pages I have so little patience for that I almost called it quits entirely. But I’m really glad I didn’t because the book that followed was a wild hoot and a holler. It’s far from an original story, as even its iterations are more slight than not. It’s essentially a mix of genre staples (The Hunger Games is the easy comparison, but Ender’s Game feels more accurate) that never stray too far from the beats you expect. 

Where Brown carves his own path is in the momentum he gives those familiar trappings. This is an angry book, written in shades of sharpness and rage that teeters on becoming overwrought yet never crosses that line. All its themes and tempos might be models of things that came before, but its spirit has more edges, more knotty bits of complicated morality, and ugly humanity that kept me ravenously turning the pages. I tore through this in essentially 36 hours, which is partially due to the start of my holiday vacation—I haven’t moved off this couch in hours—but also on account of how quick and relentless a pace Brown writes with. I try to avoid getting enabled with longer series—and this one having an entire second trilogy after the first doesn’t bode terribly well for me—but I’m absolutely tearing into the next book tomorrow. 

This wasn’t quite what I expected/hoped, but May’s thoughtful, often lovely writing and empathetic voice were still something I have very much enjoyed over the last month. It’s more of a diary (a travelogue of the self, maybe) than something with a thesis or specific arc, though. As specific as the book’s insights are to May’s life and circumstances, she does an admirable job of extracting and spotlighting meaningful takeaways a broader audience (i.e., me) could find comfort or connection in.

The Hellfire Gala itself was solid, and had enough of the superhero-politicking I love this era of the series for to feel interesting and meaningful. But the tie-ins in the back half ranged from forgettable to tiresome, and I almost bailed on them entirely because I had so little connection to or interest in anything going on.

A real solid little collection of short stories to bridge the gap between Phases 2 and 3 of The High Republic. I question the decision to relegate some of these stories a to “missable” anthology—the one about Bell and Burryaga comes to mind immediately—but the quality is here for the majority of the pages. Some of the stories are slight, as can be expected, but the ones that hit are great. Special shoutouts to Gratton, Soules, and Kang’s stories, which were my easy favorites. 

Overall, this was a welcome way to get me back on the series’ wavelength and eager to get back to the characters I’m invested in, especially after being mixed on a lot of the choices made for Phase 2.