Light and Thread- Reflections from Han Kang

 Light and Thread by Han Kang

Light and Thread book cover

Author and Nobel Laureate Han Kang

Many thanks to Random House and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Nobel Prize winning Han Kang’s latest book, Light and Thread. I was so excited to find this title, and even more excited to learn that this was Kang’s first book of reflections, a kind of nonfiction journal and brief exploration of some of her writing. I don’t know if there are other nonfiction publications in Korean from Kang, but this was the first time I’ve seen her nonfiction in English. After reading and being haunted by books like The Vegetarian, Greek Lessons, and last year’s incredible We Do Not Part, I was excited to see what this book has to offer.

Although the book is slim, there’s much in it, and Kang provides some insight into her writing, especially around the questions she attempts to explore with each novel. I loved reading about these influences and especially how her novels revolve around these questions of the relationship of the past to the present and the living to the dead. It’s something that emerges in her writing, and especially in the relationships between characters that are at the center of her books. In addition, there’s a section where she discusses some of the writing of We Do Not Part, which I did not realize took her 7 years to write. We Do Not Part is not only a powerful story about friendship, connection, and the restorative power of art, but it’s also an incredibly affecting and viscerally moving work of art that readers can feel. There is something tangible about the book, and in Light and Thread, we learn that Kang experimented with walking around her home in Jeju Island in the darkness before dawn to learn exactly how dark it was or how shadows from candles displayed on walls. More surprising was the fact that Kang went out into the snowy Jeju forests to see how long she could hold snow in her hands before succumbing to the numbness of the cold. It makes sense that Kang would delve into these sensory experiences to create such a vivid and tactile experience for readers.

There’s also some lovely poetry throughout the book that feels threaded to We Do Not Part, in which Kang discusses the kinds of connections she experienced. She notes that some of her earliest writing from elementary school featured poems that dealt with these kinds of threads and connections which she sought to bind writers to readers, and possibly members of society. I’m amazed at the kinds of questions she raises through her examination of some of the most brutal events in history- although she seems struck by the violence and brutality, she still wonders how the same humanity that can punish and brutalize others is capable of such love and forgiveness, or care. It’s something that is hard to reckon, especially when we tend to not see these threads that bind us, but often look for the separation and tears.

The last section of the book is titled “Garden Diary,” and it details Kang’s first how she owned on her own, and how she worked with a landscaper to plant some trees and greens and deliver light to them, despite the north-facing garden. The landscaper tells her to bring mirrors to her yard in order to catch the sunlight and deliver it to the garden, and Kang writes this lovely poem

“We’re catching the sunlight shining south. By reflecting it with mirrors.

…

Thus, in my garden there is light.

There are trees that grow, nourished by that light.

Leaves sparkle, translucent, and flowers slowly open.”

The rest of the garden diary details a year and a half of the growth and life she documents as she continues to bring light and life to her plants. She observes the bugs, including wonderous fairy bugs, whose luminescence makes them seem ethereal, and the aphids she worries about eating the leaves of her plants. These are mostly short observations throughout the year, but it’s marvelous to read the subtle differences in the changing of seasons, and the position of the sun gradually evades the garden, rendering the plants lifeless until the next spring. In one November entry, she mentions that “In winter, a south-facing house becomes a jar of light,” which was a phrase I just loved. Throughout the year, we see how the plants and growth connect Kang to her home, which she says “feels like a friend” when she “heard myself say, ‘Be right back.” It’s not just the home, but the life and growth that connects her to the space, and also demonstrates that kind of care and concern that counters the brutality and violence of humanity and history. Towards the end of these entries, Kang notes that “I had been wanting to fill the north wall full of green, and now time is doing the job for me.” Even though these entries are mostly a sentence or two, it’s a lovely document of how time unfolds in these older, seasonal ways, similar to Jenny Odell’s wonderous book Saving Time, that looks at different measures of time, and Donald Quill’s Living the Irish Wheel of the Year, which also takes a more seasonal approach to the passing of time, reminding us of the renewal and return that occurs in life. The last few entries from Kang detail how her viburnum “has grown taller than I am,” and how “When I step through the front gate, the scent of lilac is everywhere.” Kang’s entries not only made me long for spring as we made it through a rough winter, but it also affirmed how important it is to be surrounded by life, and especially how good it can be to take care of other living things, even if they are plants. I loved this brief book, and as I look back on rereading certain sections, my appreciation and joy for it grows more and more like Kang’s viburnum or lilacs. This is definitely a book to revisit and reread, but also one to share with others. Highly recommended! 

Female Friendship and Voice in Japan

 Sisters in Yellow by Mieko Kawakami

Sisters in Yellow book cover

Author Mieko Kawakami

Many thanks to Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage and Anchor and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Mieko Kawakami’s latest book Sisters in Yellow, with skilled translation from Laurel Taylor and Hitomi Yoshio. I’ve previously read Breasts and Eggs, Heaven, and All the Lovers in the Night, and I’ve found her books to be both challenging and rewarding. Kawakami’s books tackle difficult situations, usually faced by women, and in many of these books, the characters are women who are not afforded the kinds of voices or platforms in society where most will listen to them. Sisters in Yellow follows that standard in telling the story of Hana Ito, a young woman whose mother works in a bar as a hostess and who acts as more of a sister than a mother. It’s through Hana’s mother, Ai, that Hana eventually meets Kimiko, a woman Ai’s age who ends up living with Hana while she is in early adolescence for a brief time, but shows some care and consideration for Hana that leaves an indelible imprint on her. It’s this connection that eventually leads Hana to leave home and live with Kimiko, eventually opening their own place, Lemon, whose color holds an auspicious future for the duo. It’s through Lemon that Hana befriends two other young women, Ran and Momoko, who eventually become a part of the Lemon family, and once Lemon experiences a tragedy, the quartet moves into a new home looking for new opportunities to make money through various hustles and underworld connections.

I loved the character of Hana, especially through the first half of the book. As many of the other characters mention, Hana’s strong and focused, and she’s capable and competent, despite having no real practice or training from her mother, whose neglectful indifference led Hana to make sense of the world on her own terms. Nevertheless, this lack of feedback or guidance also ends up harming Hana, leaving her often wracked with self-doubt and a slight sense of paranoia and anxiety. This is some of Kawakami’s strongest and most affecting writing in the book. At times when Hana doesn’t immediately hear back from a colleague or when she receives an unexpected response from a friend, Hana’s anxiety plunges her into the depths of despair, and as a reader, I was on that descent with her, feeling the kind of doubt and desperation I rarely seek out, but nevertheless sometimes experience. These are harrowing passages that take me back to the joys and depths of young adulthood, especially when there’s so much uncertainty and precariousness. Nevertheless, there’s some joy as we see Hana and Kimiko eke out a joyous, if not hard-wrought, existence on their own terms with their bar, Lemon. Through this experience, Hana gets some insight into the world of her mother, a world of bar hostesses, mistresses, and women on the edge of society, looking pretty, but ultimately given few rights and privileges. This is also one of the more powerful aspects of the book, where we gain insight into the world of women who often operate on the peripheries with minimal voice. These are women who live in the night and shadows, and yet Hana seems to be different from the prettier, made-up faces like Ran and Kotomi, motivated to make a life and seek out opportunities, not just scrape out her survival. And yet, while Hana is mostly a well developed and powerful character who we root for, her housemates, Ran and Momoko, become hangers-on who rarely do much beyond find trouble or money problems. Similarly, Hana’s mother also gets herself into a bad debt that Hana has to help out with, in one of the more heartbreaking parts of the book. I not only felt bad for Hana, and wondered why she would give up so much for her mom who never really gave up much for her, but also wondered how Ai (Hana’s mom) got into this situation. Momoko also gets into a similar debt situation, which is also incredibly frustrating, and left me wondering why exactly Hana decided to pay off Momoko’s debt. While these events demonstrated Hana’s willingness to help (or at least avoid further scrutiny), it also showed how easily this society can prey on women who are desperate to make a living with little education and fewer options for well-paying work.

I wasn’t expecting this to be a kind of crime thriller- Hana eventually ends up involved in bank and credit card scams, working for another woman, Viv, who might see some of herself in Hana. Although Hana takes the initiative to find work through Viv, she also demonstrates her naivete in her questions and fears of the police regarding these scams. Kawakami creates strong tension through Hana’s will to find work by any means possible and her fear of getting caught, while she continues to rope in the others in her orbit. Yet, the last 15% of the book was not as enjoyable as the earlier parts. This book is strongest when the women are bonding and supporting one another, whether it is Hana’s financial and strategic support, or the kind of emotional and caring support that ladies like Kimiko or Ran provide. As the story careened towards the end and the women’s relationships begin to fray under the pressure of their schemes, I found their actions and treatment of one another not as compelling as the earlier part of the book. There are also some coincidental events that arise that seemed to demonstrate Hana’s weaknesses. I won’t spoil the endings, but it was a bit of a letdown, especially since the book starts out in the present with Hana discovering that Kimiko, now in her 60s, has been arrested for imprisoning and abusing a younger woman. The majority of the book is then spent recounting how Hana met and came to live with Kimiko and the other women (Ran and Momoko). If anything, it’s led me to question whether Kimiko really cared for Hana, or if there was something else at play, and whether Hana, as an adolescent, was seemingly manipulated by Kimiko. Even though the ending was frustrating and somewhat underwhelming, Kawakami’s portrayal of the relationships between the women of Lemon left me with more questions at the end, wondering about the true nature of their relationships. Sisters in Yellow is a powerful book, that slows towards the end, but makes readers question the nature of memories and personal history, wondering really how wonderful those days of uncertainty and precarity are in young adulthood. I recommend this book especially if you are familiar with Kawakami’s other books where she frequently writes about women on the fringes of society who are facing difficult and challenging situations. 

Battling for Spice: Dune: Edge of a Crysknife

 Dune: Edge of a Crysknife by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson; illustrations by Simone Ragazzoni, Andrea Scalmazzi, and Frank D. Mazzoli

Dune: Edge of a Crysknife cover

Many thanks to BOOM! Studios and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Dune: Edge of a Crysknife, written by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson with illustrations by Simone Ragazzoni, Andrea Scalmazzi, and Frank Mazzoli. I’m not completely immersed in the Dune world, but I have watched the recent adaptations and read the original Dune book by Frank Herbert. This is a story that incorporates many of the themes about colonization and rebellion, as well as the specifics of the Dune mythology, and creates some plotlines showing how the members of the Fremen are battling against the Harkonnens, enlisting the Shai-Hulud for help.

There are two interrelated stories contained in this edition, and both feature stories of resistance to the Harkonnens, but they have different artists. Nevertheless, the artwork is pretty similar, and it is colorful and bright, helping to highlight some of the unique features of the Fremen and Arrakis.  Nothing stood out to me too much in either story, except that there’s a battle for spice mélange and both stories feature the shai-hulud, the giant sandworms that populate Arrakis. Both stories also feature a plot involving Dmitri Harkonnen, another ruthless Harkonnen governor. I really liked his artwork, as the artists made him appear imposing and brooding. While he doesn’t say much, his presence is felt through the harsh conditions he imposes on the people of Arrakis. Ultimately, the Fremen employ a plot to infiltrate Dmitri Harkonnen’s headquarters. Will it work? How will their inside knowledge lead to changes? This was a quick read, and it should be of interest to other fans of Dune. I would have appreciated some additional background or character lists since I sometimes struggle with keeping the varied houses and factions within the Dune mythos clear. Nevertheless, it’s pretty easy to see and understand which forces are at battle in these stories and what the stakes ultimately are. If anything, the ending of this edition left me wanting more, waiting to find out what will happen next in the saga to control Arrakis and the flow of spice.

An Urgent and Important Book: Chain of Ideas by Ibram X. Kendi

 Chain of Ideas: The Origins of Our Authoritarian Age by Ibram X. Kendi

Chain of Ideas book cover

Scholar and Author Ibram X. Kendi

Many thanks to Random House, One World Publishers, and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Ibram X. Kendi’s timely and urgent new book Chain of Ideas: The Origins of Our Authoritarian Age. Dr. Kendi, who currently chairs the Advanced Study Institute at Howard University, is one of the most prominent researchers, teachers, and activists in racism, and his work is not only is well-researched, but also is accessible for general audiences. Although Chain of Ideas is a necessary book for many people today, I’m afraid that those who would most benefit from learning more about the origins and effects of The Great Replacement Theory are not going to pick up this book. Unfortunately, I’m afraid that many will stamp Dr. Kendi’s research and ideas as racist or woke, positioning this book as something it is not. Politicians and cultural warriors have branded Dr. Kendi as a dangerous thinker, but I think his work is some of the most important out there today, not only because of his ability to clearly analyze racism through social and historical lenses, but also to propose thoughtful, considerate, and meaningful change in a way that clearly demonstrates Dr. Kendi’s skills as a teacher and public intellectual.

Chain of Ideas primarily interrogates the Great Replacement Theory, a misguided belief that policies and movements in the United States and around the world are anti-white, and looking for ways to benefit other races at the expense of white people. Dr. Kendi’s research traces how this idea has gained recent traction in the past 15-20 years in Europe and the US but is really a result of distancing and recycling of Nazi ideas, which were ultimately influenced by US segregation and Indian removal policies that largely relied on racial categories to benefit white citizens over others. Dr. Kendi provides 10 links in the chain that demonstrate how the Great Replacement theory operates and its impact on society as well as the violence it has wrought in Europe, America, and areas like Australia and New Zealand. Many of the mass shootings have cited Great Replacement ideas and fears, and when these happen, replacement politicians often offer distancing, but still manage to either redirect blame or fear monger about other issues whether it is immigration, gun rights, or privileges. Regardless, it’s important for the public to not only understand this theory, but also be able to recognize some of the dog whistles and calls to discrimination that politicians evoke to instill fear and stoke violence among their followers.

Each chain in the link is focused on many different examples across history and around the world. While I think many readers will be familiar with the American examples and especially the more recent American examples, it was shocking to learn more about what’s been happening in Europe and how politicians are using the fear of immigrants to manipulate Europeans into a zero-sum way of thinking, that immigrants’ gain comes at a citizens’ loss. In fact, I felt so frustrated and sad while reading this to see how many people are manipulated regularly with misinformation, a lack of clear understanding of history, and a willingness to readily accept false promises because of politicians’ clout or prior success. In a lot of ways, I kept thinking about Ta-Neihisi Coates’ “The First White President,” which argues that Trump used similar manipulative methods to stoke white resentment among social classes that other politicians had used. Rather than finding commonality in the exploitation of the working class or banding together to have more power, politicians will often use zero sum thinking in race and note that progress and opportunities come at a cost for white people, which is clearly not true. Furthermore, Dr. Kendi’s refutation of the kind of reverse racism that has sadly become a spectacle of the latest Trump administration reminded me of Keon West’s excellent book The Science of Racism, that demonstrates the true impact of racism and biases on access to things like jobs and opportunities, while also making a strong argument about the false nature of these ideas of reverse racism. Similarly, Dr. Kendi notes that this is just another method that has been used since the Nazi’s grabbed power in 1930s Germany to present their enemies as threats and disempower them to the point of expulsion and elimination. As Dr. Kendi notes, while WWII ended the Nazis, these ideas have gradually been sanitized and updated for our modern world. He rejects the idea of neo-Nazis since these are the same ideas, just rebranded. I hadn’t really thought about this since we continually mention neo-Nazis, but they really are the same ideas, or as Gil Scott Heron once said, it “ain’t no new thing.”  It’s just scary and disheartening to learn how this cycle continues, and how easily people are manipulated into believing these kinds of falsehoods and misrepresentations.

One of the most frightening elements of the book is how many of these ideas were reanimated by a novelist making observations in France in the late 90s. Rather than being guided by statistics and facts, Renaud Camus’s conspiratorial ideas spread throughout Europe and took hold in America as well, where change and difference were demonized and blamed for everything from inflation, to violence, to housing shortages, and unemployment, allowing others holding more responsibility to skirt blame and evade accountability. It’s also sad to see how powerful and generally intelligent people will misuse and manipulate others’ misfortune to gain advantages and power in society. While American politicians adopted the Southern Strategy of rebranding phrases like school choice and crime to manipulate voters’ fears, recent Trump advisors like the Steves (Bannon and Miller) have used more blatant fear mongering and racism to spread falsehoods and sow division in society. In fact, Miller made sure that others had copies of one of his favorite books, Camp of the Saints, a 1970s dystopian novel, akin to the Eruo-Turner Diaries, which presents immigration as the downfall of European society. We continue to hear these nagging criticisms in Trump and Vance’s admonition of Europe. However, as Dr. Kendi notes, whites are largely the dominant majority in European countries, hardly at risk of losing their status, their population advantage, and more importantly their social capital. It was just surprising to learn how much fiction can masquerade as fact and be so influential on policies and fears. Chain of Ideas is not only eye opening, but it is also a call to awareness and resistance. After reading Dr. Kendi’s dismantling of these bonds which chain people to racist and violent ideas, readers should feel more empowered to identify the falsehoods and propaganda, to require facts and confirmation rather than just accept the biases and falsehoods of conmen looking to stay out of jail. Furthermore, Dr. Kendi’s book is timely and necessary as America continues to slip in its autonomy. We are witnessing continued attempts to make voting more difficult, while an armed militia of untrained loyalists is now policing airports while Steven Bannon notes how ICE would be ideal to patrol polling places. Dr. Kendi’s comparisons with other countries that have slipped into autocracy should also serve as a warning to see how the transition from democracy to autonomy isn’t sudden and jarring, but rather a slow erosion that happens with dismantling the typical bulwarks and checks that balance out power (see Hungary, Turkey, El Salvador, and Russia).

While Chain of Ideas is not always an easy read, learning and change are not always easy. There’s a certain level of discomfort and challenge that comes with incorporating new and uncomfortable ideas into our existing schema, yet Dr. Kendi uses familiar references and examples to make his point, making the history and current threats all the more accessible. The only suggestions I have are to have more transitions between paragraphs to better develop the links and connections between different examples and countries. The book shifts from different examples, both historically and country-wise. I found that sometimes I needed to go back to better understand the connection, and I wondered if having more transitions to better emphasize the connections between ideas would have helped with the ideas. Additionally, I wish the book was more focused on solutions. The “Epilogue” does present some steps to take, and it notes how America is different from the other examples. Furthermore, Dr. Kendi also encourages readers to take action at the end of the book; however, the book at times does feel like it’s a downer, and I felt myself getting discouraged at times, which is also an important sign of its power. Maybe there will be some new editions or future works that focus on advocacy and action. However, Dr. Kendi does important work in teaching us about the history of this dangerous idea, and how it has been recycled and repositioned for modern audiences. Highly recommended!

 Hello Darkness Vol. 5 by Various Artists

Hello Darkness Vol. 5 cover

Big thanks to BOOM! Studios and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of this excellent horror anthology comic Hello Darkness Vol. 5. I was excited to find this edition because I loved horror anthologies nearly any way they arrive—comics, films, shows; I enjoy some short, dark tales that often end in some kind of ironic cosmic justice. I’ve really been enjoying comic anthologies for the unique artwork and brisk storytelling that gets right down to business. Hello Darkness Vol. 5 features all of these great elements with some awesome writers and artists, including Tate Brombal and Tini Howard, whose works I just encountered in other recent publications. Plus, I got to discover some great new writers and artists, including Rocky OBK’s mesmerizing “Sauna 24” and Paulina Ganucheau’s bloody tale “Freshly Maid.” I also really liked “Last Christmas” by Torunn Grønbekk and illustrated by Isaac Goodheart. The story hearkened back to those great Tales from the Crypt EC comics, even down to the dark artwork. There are these other short one-page pieces that have 3-4 comics per page called “I Can’t Take You Anywhere” by Hack, and these were hilarious—a great way to break up some of the disturbing horror stories with some more dark humor that was reminiscent of The Far Side, but only darker and more ironic. What stood out to me most, though, was the incredible artwork of Jenny Frison throughout this book. There were just some of the darkest, most surreal horror images I’ve seen with amazing color. There were other images by Jeehyung Lee, Michael Dialynas, Rebeca Puebla, Emma Rios, Becky Cloonan, and Riley Rossmo that were equally captivating and really made me pause. While all of the artists brought their own vision and style, I loved that there was a kind of carnival like theme that also stressed this kind of dark side behind the play and fun of childhood. In fact, there were plenty of stories that featured that kind of dark side hidden behind the mask of propriety—whether it was whatever dark force is driving the murderous “Pothole” or the doppelgänger who is too good to be true in Brombal’s “Imposter Syndrome,” or the hidden passage that the main character from “Sauna 24” discovers after needing to escape from the stresses of everyday life. Each of these characters slips into the darkness, whether by choice, through exploration, or be accident… they are all pulled from the world of comfort and light into a darker, more violent or unknown world. I especially liked “One of Us” by Joe Pruett with stark black and white art by Stevan Subic, where two hikers out looking for a friend encounter a strange individual who offers them some warm meat roasting on the fire. “The Thread” by Lauren Knight was not only the most disturbing story, but it was also the grossest, and I mean that in the best possible way. It was the equivalent of watching a kind of splatter horror movie crossed with some Lovecraftian-inner menace. I was cringing while reading it, but in the most enjoyable way. “Away Message” by Jorge Corona and “Gunmetal Ghost” by Fell Hound also felt timely and appropriate as both dealt with different kinds of apocalyptic outcomes, with “Gunmetal Ghost” being particularly disturbing and bloody. “Inner D-Man” by Jeffrey Brown was also a fun sports and Satan story with fun comic imagery to match this humorous but dark story. Hello Darkness Vol. 5 has a lot to offer for fans of horror, horror anthologies, and comics. I especially loved the great artwork throughout this volume, and not just the artwork from the stories, but the interstitial artwork that added to whole dark and fun themes that seem somewhat incongruous but are largely highlighted by these stories. I can’t wait to find other work by these great artists, and also check out the previous volumes of Hello Darkness. Highly recommended!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Documenting a King: King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon by Ray Morton

 King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon 

by Ray Morton

King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon book cover

Author and Kong enthusiast Ray Morton

Gigantic thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for allowing me to preview an advanced copy of Ray Morton’s comprehensive and ginormous detailed history of King Kong titled King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon. This is actually a revised and update edition of the book he initially published 20 years ago as the 3^rd version of King Kong, Peter Jackson’s adaptation, was released. This book includes additional research and information about the three main versions of King Kong from 1933, 1976, and 2005, as well as other offshoots including Son of Kong, the official sequel, and the Toho iterations where Kong battles Godzilla. In addition, Morton provides detailed information about the recent Mosterverse that includes Kong: Skull Island (2017), Godzilla vs. Kong (2021), and Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire (2024). He ends the book with some other appearances of Kong in comics, books, television, cartoons, and movies, including proposed films that never made it to the big screen. As someone who loves monster movies, especially the grand spectacle of giant monsters, this book was a great read. Furthermore, as someone who has grown to love the King Kong story, studying the film in college for some of the possible subtextual readings that its creator rejected, I also found that this book was a fascinating read, and I appreciated Morton’s detailed and loving research into the creation of the main Kong films from inception, to production, to the box office. It’s not only fascinating to learn that the story of a giant ape has been appealing to audiences for nearly 100 years, but also to see how these films have helped to drive innovative practices in film and special effects.

Morton spends the most time detailing the three Kong movies, and these chapters delve into all aspects of the film. It was fascinating to learn about how the first film script changed over time. I wasn’t aware that so many writers were involved in crafting the script, and that there was also a novelization that came out before the film, but also ended up out of copyright and in the public domain, allowing others to develop stories based on the novel rather than the movie. Nevertheless, Morton provides two storylines to allow readers to see how the script changed after subsequent drafts. He also provides a detailed chronology of the film’s production, with a focus on how the special effects were implemented for this film. Although it wasn’t the first film to use stop motion animation, expertly done by Willis O’Brien and Marcel Delgado among others, the film implemented it to such a degree that it changed special effects. I also loved reading about the challenges with filming the 1976 version of King Kong, which attempted to create a giant robotic Kong, but ultimately used this version more for promotion than actually in the screen. I also learned that Rick Baker played Kong in most of the scenes and reportedly had a difficult time working with the other special effects artist Carlo Rambaldi, who had previously worked on other Dino De Laurentiis films. Ever since seeing American Werewolf in London, I’ve been a huge Rick Baker fan, so it was surprising to learn more about his role and lack of credits in this film.

The book contains a lot of information about various Kong related projects, including a 1986 film, King Kong Lives, that I kind of remember. I’m sure that I saw it at some point, but as Morton details, the film was planned during the De Laurentiis Studio’s decline and string of failed films, so the budget kept getting slashed, which ultimately had an impact on the story and effects. It’s ultimately a forgotten film, but this chapter does detail how the studio system works along with the challenges that producers and effects artists experience when trying to make the unreal appear in films. The chapter about Peter Jackson’s version was incredibly fascinating since it provides background in Jackson’s career along with his development of the Kong project, which started before Lord of the Rings, but ultimately was made after LOTR (and probably would not have been made without the success of that franchise). I learned so much from this chapter, but I was most enthralled with the various technology and effects that Jackson and his team employed to create this version of Kong along with a realistic recreation of 1930s NYC. Morton does a great job explaining the process of how digital effects work. Like the other versions of King Kong presented in the book, Morton also details the various scenes and technology employed to make the effects appear realistic, which was also fascinating to read, although it is more of a reference and explanation than anything else. Nevertheless, I feel like I have a better understanding of the various uses of green and blue screen technology, among other technologies that have developed from 1976 to the 2005 version of Kong.

I also enjoyed reading about the Monsterverse films, and while Morton doesn’t hold them in as high regard as the other Kong films, I generally like them. As he notes, these are mostly fun films without much serious plot, and in many ways, Morton explores how Kong has developed an alternative backstory to his life on Skull Island, becoming an orphan as other creatures attacked and killed his parents, and eventually discovering a land in the hollow earth where other giant apes (and other creatures) live and battle. Furthermore, Morton traces the challenges that the production teams have in accessing the rights to these monsters, creating story lines where they meet, collaborate or battle, and exploring how technology was used to create their environments and likenesses. I really enjoyed learning more about how the directors and designers looked to other films, including the various versions of King Kong, for inspiration. It’s really cool to see how these more recent films both honor the legacy of Kong, yet also want to try something different or find inspiration from other films and styles.

This book is truly a great reference and resource for anyone who is deeply interested in Kong movies or monster movies in general. My favorite parts of the book were learning more about Rick Baker’s background in special effects and seeing how his work on films like The Exorcist, It’s Alive, and with John Landis eventually led him to work on the 1976 version of Kong. Furthermore, even though King Kong Lives was a failure, the film came out around the time that Evil Dead II, Manhunter, and Blue Velvet were also produced by the De Laurentiis Group (I think that Dune was also around this time too). It shows that De Laurentiis did have an important role in producing some important films, even if the film industry relies on intellectual property and sequels. In fact, this is a point that Morton raises when discussing Legendary Pictures and how financing shifted from studios to corporations and investment firms. Again, Morton helps to highlight much about the film industry and how Kong both represented and drove trends and changes in genres and styles. I was also surprised to learn that Peter Jackson apparently created a film idea for the Nightmare on Elm Street franchise in the late 80s, which I can only imagine what that might have been. I also loved learning about where the newer Kong movies were filmed. I recently travelled to Kualoa Ranch, where some of Skull Island was filmed. I didn’t realize it at the time since most of the focus was on Jurassic Park, but I could see some of the distinct spots after reading through Morton’s indications of the filming locations. Although the book has so much detail and information about all of the Kong movies, it does feel repetitive at times, especially early on when the chapters detail the plotlines and then detail the filming process, and then also details the special effects. I loved reading about how these effects happened, and I think the process was especially fascinating or all 3 of the Kong movies, but I found myself less interested in some of the lesser Kong movies like Son of Kong and King Kong Lives. If anything, including all of these examples helps to highlight the vast differences in quality and innovation among the different productions. Overall, though, this was a really entertaining and enlightening book, and I’m so glad that Morton has not only shared his love of Kong with the world, but has also populated the book with so many images and photos from his own Kong collection, sharing some of the unique merchandise that was used to promote the majesty and regality of Kong. Highly recommended book! 

Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material- 33 1/3

 Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material by Kevin C. Dunn (33 1/3)

Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material book cover

Author and scholar Kevin C. Dunn

Many thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Kevin C. Dunn’s addition to the 33 1/3 series focused on Stiff Little Fingers’ Inflammable Material. I first learned about Stiff Little Fingers from a Rhino Records 70s Punk compilation titled No Thanks! “Suspect Device” and “Alternative Ulster” were their contributions, and they are both some of the hardest, fiercest songs on that compilation. There are only a few bands with multiple songs on the comp, so I recognized that their music was important, but I never picked up this album. I was also surprised to learn that they were from Northern Ireland, since most of the bands were either from England or the US. I don’t remember learning too much more about them, so I was excited to find this 33 1/3 volume on their debut album. While the band produced several other albums over the course of a more than 20 years-long career (with various line-ups), nothing matched the success of their first album. Dunn’s book details the context within which the band formed and developed their sound, as well as how the Troubles and sectarian violence of 1970s Northern Ireland (specifically Belfast) shaped the punk movement, and more importantly how punk rock enabled the youth of Belfast to establish an alternative to the sectarian violence, and provided an identity that wasn’t solely defined by religion or nationality. As Dunn illustrates, 1970s Belfast not only was rife with violence and the threat of bombings, but it was also a time of high unemployment and limited opportunities for young men. Playing music in a band was one of those ways to find a way out of the violence and enjoy youth. Interestingly enough, the band started off as a pub rock type band, playing a lot of covers of heavy music like Deep Purple. This might have been the biggest shock of the entire book, because whenever I’ve listened to “Suspect Device,” I didn’t get the sense that this song was by a cover band. Nevertheless, Dunn’s research delves into the transformation and how the band shifted their sound, writing a song that contained a double meaning of a topical issue. As Dunn analyzes the lyrics, he notes that the term “Suspect Device” wasn’t just a potential explosive, but also served as a metaphor for the bored and jobless youths who posed a danger without something to do. In fact, I was surprised to see how many of their songs are the kind of punk songs about boredom and aimless youth. Dunn’s book and analysis of the album’s contents help to establish that theme of the album but also shows how the punk rock community brought together young people and gave them something to do and organize around. He also notes how the album compares with some of the other classic punk albums that were released shortly before Inflammable Material.

It was interesting to learn more about the band as well, and how they ended up being the first album released on Rough Trade Records, a classic independent British label that started as a record store. Releasing an album on Rough Trade enabled Stiff Little Fingers to have distribution in England, not just in Northern Ireland. Although the band eventually moved to England and signed with another major record label for their subsequent albums, it was interesting to learn more about how this album was produced and its importance to British punk rock. Dunn also provides useful historical and social context to understand the Troubles, both before and after the album was released. Although Inflammable Material didn’t do much for peace, Dunn frames the larger context of the punk rock movement in Belfast as being a significant influence in rejecting the either/or dichotomies of the Troubles and providing a new community that sought to focus on improving conditions for the working class and artists in Belfast. While the band danced around the politics of The Troubles and used imagery associated with the Troubles, their music ultimately reengaged other bands in Norther Ireland signaling that it was relatively safe to play after the Miami Showband killings in 1975. Dunn goes on to provide some insight into the greater Belfast punk scene, and the “punkwashing” that happened in Belfast in the early 2000s, that celebrates the role of music in creating a renewed Belfast. I really enjoyed this book, and it represents so much of what is great about the 33 1/3 books. It examines a significant album, and doesn’t just look at its lyrical or musical content, but also examines the socio-historical and political influences that helped to shape this album. Furthermore, it places the album in a larger context to demonstrate its significance in creating an “Alternative Ulster,” and reshaping the greater Belfast community to reject the sectarianism that divided much of the city and the nation for so many years. Highly recommended!