Stripovi

[Nesh]

Čarlamijus, da... :D...nisam mogao nikako da se setim.

 

Hvala! :)

Edited January 19, 2015 by Nesh

[Singer]

To sam bio ja i extra što ste ga našli jer se i ja ubih tražeći ga da ga imam za postovanje kad gazza zakuva™

[Calavera]

Ove nedelje u stripovima:

 

 

Vratio se!!! Now guest starring Michael Chabon u prici na nastavke posle glavnog stripa. Kako 1 strip moze biti toliko koncentrisano kvalitetan?

 

 

DeConnickovoj nista ne verujem posle Priti Dedlija, ali pocinje da me obuzima lozacki zanos povodom ovoga. Ako opet zajebe...  :misko:

 

 

Ja ovo citam samo zbog crteza, Rossmo je stvarno majstor. Nije ni text™ nesto los, ali moramo li bas u svakom broju ponovo slusati kako dobrom Grigoriju smrt dise za vrat?

 

 

Za ljubitelje buddy cop filmova iz nikad prezaljenih devedesetih, a vi mi sad recite ko to nije? A? A? Tako sam i mislio  ^_^

Edited January 28, 2015 by Calavera

[Њујоркер]

 

Moracu da nabavim pod hitno. Naslov i autor obecavaju zabavu...

[bigvlada]

 

Votan, Brunhilda, Nibelunzi, Zigfrid, rajnsko zlato i Ragnarok. U 6 delova. Prosto boli kako svi idu iz jedne pogrešne odluke u drugu do samog kraja. I dalje je najteže reći "Izvini" i "Pogrešio sam".

[bigvlada]

 

Bretanja, kraj petog veka nove ere. Stalne tenzije između uzmičućih druida i raznih hrišćanskih monaških redova koji su u ekspanziji su okruženje u kome se odvija prava detektivska priča gde jedan sveštenik i jedan druid moraju da reše višestruka ubistva sveštenika za koje su optuženi druidi. Fino se prepliću istorijsko i mitsko, autori su se trudili da što vernije prenesu rečenice starog bretonskog jezika kao i tadašnje običaje. Toplo preporučujem da pre nego što počnete da čitate otvorite satelitsku mapu Bretanje, svi toponimi se mogu naći a i za većinu postoje članci na wikipediji na engleskom jeziku.  

 

Najveći mitski detalj, grad Ker-is (is valjda znači grad) koji se navodno nalazio u jednom zalivu južno od Bresta. Francuska Atlantida, potonula kada su popustile brane koje su čuvale grad izgrađen ispod nivoa mora.

 

Uzgred, pominje se i Avalon, tako da će se možda i on pojaviti kasnije. 

 

Jedva čekam drugi deo. :) 

[burekdzija]

Procitao 4. deo Sage, u kome se desilo... nista.

[Calavera]

Vec duze vreme se ne desava nista, ja cu uskoro prestati da citam i iz navike.

[Weenie Pooh]

Kad sam ja u startu govorio da je tu sve stilski lepo i šareno a sadržaja ni od korova, niste mi verovali. Sad patite -_-

 

Ili čitajte The Private Eye od istog autora, neuporedivo je bolja priča a ne košta ništa.

[Њујоркер]

 

Jos od razocaranja sa Habibijem, digoh ruke od Tompsona. Nic nije bolji od rvackog mu imenjaka i kolege po umjetnosti, jelte. Ali, kako to obicno biva, isti taj Habibi na mojoj polici je jednoj mojoj prijateljici bio povod da uzvikne jaaaao, ja bih bas da citam blanketse, i kako joj je rodjendan ovijeh dana bio, ja joj spremih pokon, a poklonu se, kao ni konjima, u zube ne gleda...

 

Uglavnom, utsici su grozomorni. I tako imam averziju prema autobiografijama, osim ako nisu Protine, mos misliti kako me interesuje sta jedan 30godisni krelac iz Portlanda ima da kaze za sopstveno odrastanje u pustahijama Viskonsina... Ili o prvom drkanju. Ah, nekima je drkanje prekretnica u zivotu pa ga ne samo pamte, vec obelezevaju u stripu, valjda od Desanke dalje nisu ni otisli... No, ako je za utehu, onima koje interesuje kako je jadni Kreg bio maltretiran u skoli, i kako je izgubio veru u Gospoda Nasega Isusa Hrista Spasitelja, te kako se uvukao u krevet svoje prve ljubavi, ali nije otisao dalje od prve baze, moze se ovaj strip i dopasti. Za razliku od Habibija, prati se naracija, kakva god da je, od pocetka do kraja, ima prica i glavu i rep. Postavlja se samo pitanje kome je uopste ovaj strip namenjen?

 

Pizdama, verovatno.

 

 

I posle se neko pita zasto ovaj vo Dzenkins nikad pre nije bio sakupljen u trejdu?!? Ali pre njega, daj da viviseciramo prvo devetku, koja je papazjanija od prica i autora, a onda cemo i desetku i Dzenkinsa (gde je sad Inspektor Blok da ga posalje na Pikadili da sredjuje saobracaj...)

 

Knjiga pocinje sa cini mi se poslednjim Dilejnovim ucinkom na Helblejzeru, u kome se razjasnjava odnos Cas-Dzon. Ok. Onda pero u ruke uzima Kembel, kome pada na pamet da ozivi urbane legende  Oh, Boze. Uglavnom, da bi iste satro, Helblejzer nam odlazi putem Australije i Papue Nove Gvineje. Da ne pominjemo da je prica Krik (The Shout) ukradena od istoimenog filma iz 1978 (a istu temu krika daleko je bolje odradio Kasteli u Povratku Kundingasa, tamo negde 1985), a o Planinama ludila tek ne treba trositi reci  Kakav originalan autor, ni Sklavi se ne bi postideo... Uglavnom, Dzenkins nastavlja pricu tu u Australiji s Aboridzanima i naravno pocinje da politicari na najprizemniji moguci nacin, kako samo to levicari mogu, belci su krvi za sva zla sveta, domoroci su nevini, spasi ih, o Helblejzeru!!! I tu muti nesto o aboridzanskoj mitologoji, prilicno jadno, s obzirom da je ista u Martiju Misteriji do tancina odradjena. U Kriticnoj masi, Dzon nam se opet hvata Pakla i izlazi kao pobednik, ah, vrcavog li nam junaka, ovog puta saljucu loseg sebe u pakao, dok dobri Dzoni ostaje na staroj dobroj Zemlji...

 

 

Problem sa Dzenkinsom je sto se mnogo trudi, pise, ali sve to izgleda na silu. Jednostavno, ne ide. Ne moze da se guta ono sto on servira. A nervira i to sto se uhvatio proslosti ko pijan plota, i uvodi na silu neke likove koje nijedan drugi autor pre njega nije pomenuo. Ali, dok drugi autori imaju osecaja dok uvode likove u serijal, to Dzenkinsu manjka. Koga more boli kurac za duh davno crknute dzukele, ej! Ali, treba napisati 24 strane necega... Onda ta igrarija sa Abatonom, bar zasad nikud nije dovela ni Konstantina ni nas, osim sto izaziva ospice. Cak je uspeo da sprca i 100ti broj uzalud, kada je u Paklu sastavio Oca i Sina. Sto bi reko Prvi od Palih ronfzzzzzz... Onda sledi trilogija Teski poceci. Cega? Reko mu I-Cing da mora da uradi to i to. I? Oh, Boze... Onda opet sledi jedna prica koja je bolje odradjena u Martiju Misteriji i gigantu Ksanadu. Radi se o Koleridzu i poemi Kublaj Kan, ali treba imati znanja pa pametno obraditi datu temu. Jok, Koleridza je zajebo cukundeda Konstantin. More, mrs. I onda opet proslost, sada II svetski rat i gonjenje duhova istih. Boze me prosti, ovaj Dzenkins samo duhove i mrtve vidi, od Koleridza, II rata i Njukasla... A danas? A sutra? Nista, a? Mozda knjiga 11 donese preokret, hm?

 

Oce, qrac.

[Calavera]

Ja sam Blankets iz nekog razloga onomad iscitao do kraja, to mi je bio dovoljan razlog da stavim Thompsona na ignore do kraja zivota. Gospode, precenjenog li djubreta.

Edited March 21, 2015 by Calavera

[porucnik vasic]

 

Votan, Brunhilda, Nibelunzi, Zigfrid, rajnsko zlato i Ragnarok. U 6 delova. Prosto boli kako svi idu iz jedne pogrešne odluke u drugu do samog kraja. I dalje je najteže reći "Izvini" i "Pogrešio sam".

Има ли ко ово по набавној цени?

[Ravanelli]

Ja sam Blankets iz nekog razloga onomad iscitao do kraja, to mi je bio dovoljan razlog da stavim Thompsona na ignore do kraja zivota. Gospode, precenjenog li djubreta.

odličan tajming. upravo sam prosuo 1.8k dinara

[porucnik vasic]

 

Votan, Brunhilda, Nibelunzi, Zigfrid, rajnsko zlato i Ragnarok. U 6 delova. Prosto boli kako svi idu iz jedne pogrešne odluke u drugu do samog kraja. I dalje je najteže reći "Izvini" i "Pogrešio sam".

Савршен стрип.

[bigvlada]

Da, i meni je baš legao. Francuzi (ili Belgijanci?) znaju znanje. Interesantno je i što su obradili germansku umesto skandinavske verzije, pa mi je trebalo malo vremena da pohvatam ko je ko (Wotan - Odin).

 

A sada nešto potpuno drugačije. U davna vremena, kada su bili popularni Flaš Gordon i Den Deri, nastao je još jedan atipičan junak, Džef Hok. Stripovi o njemu koji su objavljivani u Stripoteci su uvek bili nešto posebno, što zbog specifičnog grafičkog izraza kome bi boja samo smetala što zbog jednog hmm, holističkog, humanističkog pristupa istraživanju svemira, kontaktu sa drugim civilizacijama i mestu ljudske rase u galaksiji. Ja sam ga prvi put čitao sa pet godina, za mene će Kasiopeja uvek biti jedna civilizacija, tamo negde, daleko. Sa grčkim mitovima i legendama sam se upoznao mnogo kasnije.

 

Tražeći sliku kojom bih upotpunio post, naleteo sam na članak koji mnogo bolje objašnjava Džefa Hoka i njegov značaj za devetu umetnost.

 

 

On Jeff Hawke: Overlord, by Sydney Jordan and Willie Patterson (1960)
by Colin Smith | in Articles | Tue, 10 July 2012

 

“Adult” all too often has a different meaning now. But in the very best sense of the term, Jordan and Patterson’s Jeff Hawke was a newspaper science-fiction comic strip for adults. In an age in which fantastical fiction was still largely regarded as brain-rotting pablum for the young, the culturally deprived, and the supposedly congenitally feeble-minded, Jeff Hawke had become, by the turn of the ’60s, a rare and precious example of what the genre might achieve in a popular form designed to appeal to a post-adolescent audience. In the words of Dave Gibbons, it was “one of the best newspaper strips ever published.”

 

Hawke himself might not, at first, appear to be anything other than a typically British adventure hero from the more dour end of the breed. Though handsome, calm, brave, commanding, and restrained, Hawke’s hardly what might be seen as a charismatic character in the terms of today’s culture. His sense of humour is gentle and slight when it’s present at all, with a great deal of the comedy in his adventures coming from the characters that he plays straight man to. His obvious competence never once threatens to tip over into the darkness and machismo of a my-phasers-against-the-universe protagonist. Indeed, the absence of the slightest trace of the anti-hero about him leaves Hawke appearing initially to be nothing more compelling than a one-dimensional man of the officer class, there on the page to be admirably, comfortingly decent and day-winning.

 

But it’s the very absence of the easy and over-familiar markers of heroism that make Hawke such a quietly remarkable lead. In Overlord, for example, which played out over 115 days in the pages of The Daily Express in 1960, he first appears as an expert called in to investigate the appearance of an alien spacecraft that has crashed somewhere in North Africa. In a near-future marked by the likes of beautifully-envisaged ram-jets and flying-sauceresque hovercraft, Hawke liaises with government scientists and military big-wigs in order to take charge of the search effort. It’s not until the thirteenth daily chapter in the sequence that his most distinctive qualities become subtly emphasised. Having discovered not one but two alien craft in “the Egyptian desert,” Hawke’s methodical attempts at what we’d now call first contact reveal that a form of execution is about to occur. A gigantic beetle-like creature has apparently been condemned “in accordance with High Intergalactic Law,” and a relatively small off-world craft has arrived to carry out the sentence. Hawke’s response is deliberate, smart-minded, and entirely without teeth-gritting or speechifying:

“Whoever you may be, understand this! There will be no ‘execution’ on the sovereign territory of Earth!”

 

Though he undemonstratively draws his gun, it’s quite obviously done in a way that’s as lacking in Hollywood manliness as could be possible. To Hawke, as it soon becomes plain to the neophyte reader, violence is a strategy of the very last resort, and it’s in that adamantine conviction that the character’s untypical and inspiring qualities as a lead become clear. Patterson’s stories weren’t constructed to quickly burn through more cerebral solutions to overwhelmingly threatening dangers while at the same time cranking up the reader’s longing for a laser beam or a good and strong right hook to solve the problems. Quite the opposite was true. When Marines arrive on the scene in response to a loss of communications with Hawke’s team, a show of force results only in the destruction of its commander’s weapons along with, it appears, a significant proportion of his good health. For Jeff Hawke was a science-fiction strip designed to emphasise if not pacifism, then the most principled of restraint matched with the most rigorous of thought. And for all that Hawke might seem to the casual glance to be an entirely familiar fighting lead, he was actually the exact opposite to the breed. In that, he was the rarest of science-fiction types; the diplomat as hero, the peace-maker as protagonist, the man of ideals and science who really would rather rely upon his conscience and his mind before reaching for a conveniently big gun.

 

Patterson and Jordan could often appear to be engaged in a campaign against the broad strokes and dense-headed assumptions of so much pulp sci-fi. Jeff Hawke was saturated with the conventions that characterised so much of the pop science fiction of the period, and yet those traditions were constantly being reframed and reinvigorated. The flying saucers in Overlord are everyday terrestrial hovercraft, the other-worldly executioner nothing more than a machine programmed to spout bureaucratic legaleese. Most tellingly, the huge beetle that, at first glance, appears to be nothing more than the terrifying Other is revealed to be neither enemy not potential ally, but an “intelligent” creature “impatient” to be killed because it has “the mentality of a pawn in a chess game.” At each step of the plot, the reader’s expectations are smartly subverted. This is true to the point at which Hawke is compelled by the evidence to reluctantly leave the condemned alien to its fate, a twist of the plot which surely no-one then, as now, could have anticipated. This is authorial gameplaying of the highest level, and it comes with a complete absence of either smugness or the cold-hearted knowingness than tends to accompany comics meta. “Come on Jeff — there’s nothing we can do…” calls Hawke’s assistant, Mac, to his boss, and even now, the idea that there really is nothing that the heroic lead can do, and that the only option really is to fly away and let such unpleasantness occur, grinds thought-provokingly against genre expectations.

 

For a strip that’s so deliberately undemonstrative, that’s so purposefully designed to side-step the barnstorming clichés of space opera, it’s remarkable how many images there are on the page that still catch the eye and burn their way into the memory. The world of Overlord is quite clearly that of 1960 in most of its broad strokes and its fine detail too. Yet it’s also a time of the most incredible and yet apparently taken-for-granted super-science. Sydney Jordan had the remarkable ability to present the most futuristic of technology as an everyday fact of life while also accentuating its strange beauty in contrast to the everyday. A jet decades ahead of its time is shown being raised to the deck of HMS Centaur using technology that would’ve been in operation in World War Two, while soldiers looking little different to those who might have been serving in Britain’s turn-of-the-decade conscript army engage startlingly alien intruders. It’s hard not to believe that Jordan was somehow capturing the reality of 1960 as it might have been seen if only the reader could have just glimpsed things from the right angle.

 

As such, there’s a dozen and more such eye-catching panels in the sixteen daily chapters that mark just the opening act of Overlord alone. The tiny spacemen walking on a huge satellite in Earth orbit, Hawke’s ramjet landing on an aircraft carrier while dawn rises in the background, the interruption of the stand-off between alien and otherworldly technology caused by Hawke’s colleague Laura receiving a telepathic message; Jordan consistently placed his characters into situations that were simultaneously outlandish and yet also entirely believable. To have had Hawke behaving as anything other than his thoughtful and somewhat buttoned-up self in such a world would’ve reduced the strip to parody. For Jordan’s art, as with Patterson’s scripts, works against the very idea of the indomitable hero. Theirs is a version of reality which carries such a sense of verisimilitude that a suggestion that conflict can be defeated with a single, desperate act of brute blokeishness would inevitably appear out of place. It’s not that Hawke and his colleagues of the strip’s golden age weren’t often shown being brave and ingenious, but it is that their world, like ours, is anything other than a Saturday-morning picture show romp.

 

In the eighteenth episode of Overlord, Hawke, his team, and the Marine task-force abandon the beetle-alien to its lamentable fate and head northwards. It wants to die, its would-be killer is too powerful to stop, and there simply is no option but to retreat. Hawke himself is appalled at what’s going to occur, but the narrative doesn’t focus in an obvious manner on either his frustration or the killing itself. In what might initially seem a counter-intuitive choice on the part of Patterson and Jordan, the small fleet of hovercraft travel fifty miles northwards before a colossal explosion reminiscent of an atomic bomb is shown in the far distance. Today’s storytelling orthodoxy would insist that the reader be shown the execution or at least Hawke’s response to seeing it. In 2012, the sentimentality and the spectacle of the moment would most probably be what such a scene would be milked for. At the very least, we might be given a scene that focuses upon nothing but the excesses of Hawke’s angsty despair or be shown the hovercraft racing desperately to escape from the blast radius.

But Patterson and Jordan were writing for an audience of adults, and their focus wasn’t upon spectacle but story. In showing the human cast’s safe journey away from the killing field, they create a sense of numbed anticipation and allow the audience to feel what a terrible thing it is that’s going to happen. Each mile that the hovercraft cover is a mile further away from an abandoned, hopeless sentient being that is about to be slaughtered. The point here isn’t the blood and terror of the moment but the fundamental horror of an unavoidable loss of life. And when the sky’s shown blackening in response to the terrible white light of the slaughter, the security that Hawke and his fellows inhabit only emphasises the terrible fate of the creature they were compelled to leave behind. This, Patterson and Jordan appear to be stating, is how important and how catastrophic every single unnecessary loss of life is.
 

“We should have prevented that… the insect creature should have lived...” says Hawke as the flash of the explosion fades, and it suddenly becomes obvious. For it’s impossible to name more than just a few mass-market comics or strips today that are as passionately humane, as fundamentally concerned with common decency, as Jeff Hawke was some half-a-century and more ago.

We might have expected better of the future.

 

http://sequart.org/magazine/13501/on-jeff-hawke-overlord-by-sydney-jordan-and-willie-patterson-1960/