This review first appeared in the Comics Journal.
“[S]uper-hero comic books…aren’t taken seriously in the critical community,” Timothy Callahan claims in the introduction to his monograph *Grant Morrison: The Early Years.* If that’s true, books like this are the reason. Instead of in depth analysis, Callahan provides his readers with lists of themes, like *chaos* and *sacrifice* (and yes, the themes are printed in italics.) Rather than synthesis, he gives us tedious, page by page plot summaries of every single damn issue. And rather than attempting to arrive at any complex conclusions, Callahan merely gushes out bland fanboy boosterism. As the final sentence states, “…Grant Morrison is, indeed, a master of the medium.” And then there’s this gem: “[*Arkham Asylum* is] a more fully realized combination of words and images than almost any comic-book story every published.” Or, translated, “Manga? Underground? Duuuh…what dose?”
The book is amateurish in every bad sense of the word. There’s no index. The proofreading gaffes are sometimes so overwhelming as to make the text difficult to read. And there are multiple errors of fact. Callahan claims, for example, that “the reader isn’t told” why Cliff Steele’s robot body explodes after a brain transplant in Doom Patrol #34 — but, in fact, Morrison takes a panel to tell the reader exactly that (the body wired itself to detonate in case of brain transplant.) In another instance, Callahan states that Morrison’s filching of older copyrighted characters has made it difficult to collect and distribute the Zenith comics in trade paperbacks. But in an interview at the end of the book, Morrison says that the problem is actually a rights dispute between him and the publisher over ownership of the Zenith comic itself.
This interview at least, is worthwhile. Callahan’s questions are sturdily innocuous, but Morrison is game, talking about his interest in magic, his time on the dole, his relationship with his artists. He also politely punctures several of Callahan’s pet theories, which (given the level of animosity I had worked up after trudging through all 200-odd pages) is quite satisfying. But overall, this book just made me embarrassed of my 12-year old self, who probably would have had enough sense not to enjoy reading it, but might well have written something like it if he’d had the chance.
*Grant Morrison: The Early Years* is supposed to be the first in a series from Sequart “devoted to the study and promotion of comic books as a legitimate art.” From now on, I plan to avoid them all: including the next one, entitled “Mutant Cinema: The X-Men Trilogy From Comics to Screen.” ‘Nuff said.
Update: Callahan and others have at me on a thread here. Callahan argues that I have a prejudice against super-hero books. As regular readers of this blog know, that is simply false. I hate everything indiscriminately.
Updeate 2: In comments, Julian Darius, the publisher of the book, notes that many of the errors I point out have been corrected for the recently released second edition. He also provides a lengthy rebuttal, and (politely) upbraids the Comics Journal for its lousy proofreading — a palpable hit.
Just curious, are you a fan of Grant Morrison (or at least the works covered in Callahan’s book)?
Absolutely. I caught that Doom Patrol error because I practically have that particular comic memorized.
Sorry you didn’t like the book.
First, thanks for reading the book and for your enthusiasm for the material, if not its analysis. You’re welcome to your opinion, irrelevant of the quibbles I’m about to offer.
If you think the book is light, too plot-focused, or don’t like its focus on themes, fine. I think there’s a lot of synthesis and that the book is a lot more than lists of themes, but I do take your point. There’s a wide gap between fanboy gushing and unreadable academic nonsense – and, as an academic, I’ve read and produced myself a lot of such obfuscating nonsense. A lot of books on comics are way lighter than this one, and a lot are way too snooty with little real understanding behind them (often with jargon mystifying what are really simple observations). Sequart strives to occupy a middle ground between these two: to be approachable but also to analyze and open up comic book texts in non-mystifying ways. If you disagree with this agenda, then the book’s not for you. If you just think that Callahan hasn’t met that bar, you’re entitled to your opinion.
I would point out, as far as fanboy gushing goes, that Callahan readily points out that he likes the works and wants to explain why they’re important. Callahan knows his manga and underground stuff — I’ve talked with him, so I know. It’s just that he has a high opinion of the works covered, and you’re free to disagree with that or to want the book to be something other than it is. For my sake, I can’t imagine anything more awkward than a book about Morrison’s early super-hero work that is filled with French theory or can only explain its points through references to Eightball –- how insular would that be?
Callahan’s admitted that he goofed on attributing a couple quotations, and we’ve corrected that for the second edition, which is apparently the occasion for reposting this review. No complaint there, and thanks for taking the time to review us, positively or negatively. Thanks also for catching the goof! But I’d just like to point out that it’s been fixed – and both the author and the publisher considered it important to do that.
Sorry there’s no index. Yes, there are some proofreading errors. I am legitimately sorry for that. But, for the record, that doesn’t mean that smart people who read and write professionally didn’t proofread the book literally dozens of times. Again, we’ve caught many errors for the second edition. Many times, when people point out errors, they’re actually the result of a different style manual –- I don’t know if this is (at least partially) the case here. And, for the record, I haven’t read a book or magazine (including every issue of The Comics Journal) in 20 years that hasn’t had errors, and a lot of books (including academic ones) don’t have an index. Whether or not we had more errors than others, we can only apologize and spend countless hours fixing what we can find. Which we do.
Maybe this is just because I got my academic training when comics was an unacceptable artistic medium, but I usually prefer to be glad that other analytical works are out there about comics, even when I don’t like their approach. Hey, The Comics Journal attacked the name of our organization because it sounded like a bodily function… which, since our name is short for “sequential art,” would mean that “art” sounds like a bodily function — certainly a great irony, and one that’s personally given me many laughs. But I’m glad it’s out there, and I’m glad you’re out there too.
For what it’s worth, Sequart’s serious about its mission, and a lot of others are glad that it’s out there. You might not like that mission, or you might want books about comics to be something other than what we publish. Again, that’s your prerogative. We can simply agree to disagree about whether or not Grant Morrison: The Early Years will cause people to run screaming from considering super-hero comics as serious art.
I’m sorry that you didn’t like the book, but I thank you for your time and consideration.
Hey Timothy and Julius. I actually didn’t realize there was a second edition; I reposted because the rights to the review just reverted to me.
I’m glad to hear errors have been corrected; I’ll note that in the post. And, yes, TCJ has major proofreading problems itself.
Some French theory can be fun, but I wasn’t necessarily advocating a more academic approach.
Thanks for taking the time to comment, fellas. Good luck with your endeavors.
I’m thinking that SeqFart might be a good name change for you to ponder, Julian.
Or even the more-exciting SeqShart!
Mull it over.
Thanks, Noah, for your very kind reply and update. It’s much appreciated, and I continue to enjoy your writing. All the best.