Monday, 14 June 2010

Westlake Score #6: The Hot Rock

This one was an Amazon find rather than an eBay score, but in the brave new world order of Donald Westlake acquisitions (see previous post), it now qualifies as a Westlake Score. And I'm rather pleased with this one:














A 1971 UK hardback first edition of The Hot Rock, published by Hodder & Stoughton (originally published by Simon & Schuster in the US in 1970). The Hot Rock, as I'm sure we all know, is the first of Westlake's John Dortmunder series – a more hard-luck version of Parker. This first British edition is rather rare: there are a few pricey copies on AbeBooks from New Zealand and Australia, but that's about it (I bought the only Amazon copy). The dustjacket seems to be Hodder's house style from that period (either for Westlake in particular or more generally – I'm not sure which); it's very similar to the jacket on my copy of Somebody Owes Me Money (both designed by Lipscombe, Lubbock, Ewart & Holland):














And speaking of Somebody Owes Me Money, unlike The Hot Rock, which just has text about previous books on the back of the jacket, my Hodder first of Somebody sports another photo of Westlake. But whereas the previous jacket photo I posted, from the back cover of my Random first of Pity Him Afterwards, had Westlake looking super-cool, the pic on the back of Somebody is... well... super-dorky. Compare and contrast – Pity Him Afterwards on the left, Somebody Owes Me Money on the right:














Nice grin.

Westlake Score #5: Dancing Aztecs

So then, to the third of my Donald Westlake eBay scores... Wait, hold up: if this is the third Westlake Score, I hear you cry, how come it's number five in the post header? Ah, well, see, I've decided to re-think these Westlake Score posts and turn them into a series, a la my Parker Progress Reports. And seeing as I already had two Westlake first editions – Killy (a 1964 UK Boardman hardback) and Pity Him Afterwards (a 1964 US Random House hardback) – when I acquired my other two eBay scores – Somebody Owes Me Money and Levine – that makes this latest addition Westlake Score #5. Exciting Times! Ahem. And here is Score #5:













A 1976 US first edition of Dancing Aztecs, published in hardback by M. Evans and Company, with a dustjacket by Joel Schick. This one was a great score: I don't think it's ever been published in the UK, and there don't seem to be any copies online from the UK at all. It's also in fantastic condition. One thing that struck me was the extent of the book: it's well over 350 pages (Helpfully, Westlake provides a guide to the cast of characters at the start of the book). I'm used to Westlake – or rather Richard Stark – books being less than 200 pages. I don't know how many of the books he wrote under his own name are as lengthy as this, but I guess I'll find out if and when (or more likely as and when) I acquire them...

The Bourne Supremacy/The Dolly Dolly Spy

Bit of a book bonanza over the weekend. I had a couple of Westlakes turn up in the post, which I'll deal with separately, and a trip to Kim's Bookshop in Arundel turned up two good finds. First up:













A 1986 UK hardback first edition of Robert Ludlum's second Jason Bourne novel, The Bourne Supremacy, published by Granada. I'm a huge fan of the films, so I've been wanting to read these for a while. Of course, I'll have to start with the first one, The Bourne Identity, so I'll be keeping me eyes peeled for a first of that. And the other find was this:













A UK first edition hardback of Adam Diment's debut novel The Dolly Dolly Spy, published by Michael Joseph in 1967 with a dustjacket by Broom Lynne. Diment wrote four books about swinging sixties spy Philip McAlpine (described at the time as a successor to James Bond) up to 1971 and then promptly vanished. No one really knows what happened to him, although recent reports suggest he is currently living either in the Far East or, er, Kent. (Diment was also claimed at one point to simply have been a pseudonym for various in-house writers at Michael Joseph, although that seems to have been disproved.) In any case, I've been meaning to check one of his books out, and this is a really nice copy, the only fault being some old sellotape that was stuck to the edges of the jacket to protect it. But the tape was so old it peeled off easily when I got it home, just leaving leaving a little discolouration. Splendid.

Friday, 11 June 2010

Parker Progress Report: And We're Done (Er, Almost)

And so my quest to collect all of Donald 'Richard Stark' Westlake's Parker novels comes to a close, with the arrival of this:














A 2007 UK hardback first edition of the penultimate Parker novel, Ask the Parrot, published by Quercus. So I now have every single one of the twenty-four Parker novels.

Except... I'm not quite done yet. For one thing, another of my cheapo Amazon punts has gone slightly astray: this copy of Ask the Parrot has turned out to be ex-library, which the seller didn't mention. It's also got the first page – or rather front endpaper, where libraries usually glue their issuing leafs – torn out. Fucktastic. I've just found another cheapo copy, which hopefully this time won't be ex-library. Harumph.

And there's also the matter of the editions I have of the Parker novels. I have multiple editions of some of them, but I'm still missing a few key hardbacks I'd like to own, mostly Allison & Busby ones: The Jugger (even though I've already got an Allison & Busby paperback of it...), The Rare Coin Score (er, despite already having three Coronet paperback editions...), The Black Ice Score (again, already got an A&B paperback of this one, but y'know...)... And then there's the thorny problem of Deadly Edge, which I have in a 1990 A&B paperback, but which I'm not sure was issued in hardback in the UK (it might have been, in 1992, but I can't say for definite), so I'd have to get a first edition US hardback, and those are a bit pricey. (I almost got me hands on one of these on eBay recently, but the internet crashed on me and I lost out. Ooh, you should've heard me swear that day.)

And I'm still debating whether to pick up the two Stark-penned Alan Grofield novels I'm missing, The Dame and The Blackbird. Sigh. It never ends, does it?

Thursday, 10 June 2010

Review: A God Somewhere, by John Arcudi and Peter Snejbjerg (WildStorm, 2010)

For reasons I won't go into I was up before 5am this morning (again), but for once I used the time wisely and finished reading writer John Arcudi and artist Peter Snejbjerg's A God Somewhere. It's an original graphic novel about a young man, Eric Forster, who inexplicably gains superpowers, and what subsequently happens to him, to his brother Hugh, Hugh's wife Alma, and their friend Sam, who acts as occasional narrator, and from whose viewpoint the graphic novel unfolds.

There have been countless attempts at a 'real world' approach to superheroes, most successfully from Alan Moore with Marvelman and Watchmen, which A God Somewhere is already being compared to. Actually those comparisons are misleading; in its unassuming manner I think it's probably closer to Kurt Busiek and Stuart Immonen's underrated Superman: Secret Identity, although it's a lot more violent. But either way, A God Somewhere doesn't have its protagonist donning a costume and fighting crime. Instead, we witness Eric's gradual disintegration, as he turns increasingly violent and ends up public enemy number one.

And it's the violence that's really notable here; there are dismemberments and buckets of blood aplenty, with hundreds of deaths over the course of the story. In one particularly gruesome scene Eric stamps on a soldier's head and the soldier's eyeball pops out. It's shocking, but then that's the point.

One thing that works really well is the opaque nature of Eric. There are occasional narrative captions, but they're from Sam's perspective; we never really get inside Eric's head, so it's never clear why he does the things he does – in particular the path of extreme violence he embarks on. That's unusual in superhero comics – where generally motivations are clearly explained – and the book is all the better for it, leaving it up to the reader to come up with their own theories. That even goes for the small things: Eric grows a beard and lets his hair grow long, but it's never explained if that's a choice, or if he's simply unable to cut his hair because of his powers (a la Superman shaving with heat vision – a power Eric doesn't have).

Something that worked less well for me was the race element. Sam happens to be black, and encounters racism as a result, but that's never fully developed and doesn't have anything really to do with the main story, so it just kind of sits there. There's a parallel theme of faith and religion that's better explored, particularly in an unsettling sequence where Eric recounts a dream where he's God.

A God Somewhere is full of ambiguities, but those ambiguities only help to make it more compelling. It's a disturbing, engrossing read that manages to transcend the often hackneyed tropes of superhero comics, and Snejbjerg's artwork (and Bjarn Hansen's colours) is utterly sublime.

Westlake Score #2: Somebody Owes Me Money/Parker Progress: Dirty Money

Rather serendipitously, two Donald Westlake books turned up yesterday, both of them on a cold cash money tip. First, there was my second Donald Westlake eBay score:














A 1970 UK hardback first edition of Somebody Owes Me Money, published by Hodder & Stoughton, originally published by Random House in the States in 1970. I'm quite pleased with this one; it's ex-library (from Forest Hill Library, in fact, which is a few miles from where I grew up in south London), but it's in really good nick, and there are, far as I can tell, only two copies of this edition online anywhere, and those are in New Zealand and Australia (and also ex-library). This one's about a New York cab driver who places a bet on an outside horse, wins, and then tries to collect his money; except his bookie has been murdered, and the cabbie ends up mixed up with gangsters. It's got a great opening line: "I bet none of it would have happened if I wasn't so eloquent." Should be a good read.

The other moolah-themed Westlake book to arrive was this:














A 2009 UK first edition hardback of the twenty-fourth and final Parker novel, Dirty Money, written, of course, under his Richard Stark nom de plume and published by Quercus. I took a chance on a cheapo Amazon copy of this one and luckily it paid off this time: it's virtually brand new (which, considering it was published last year, shouldn't be too surprising). Unlike the painted covers on the Robert Hale editions, the jacket on this one is a photo (courtesy of Getty Images), which is standard for books these days, more's the pity. Anyway, the arrival of Dirty Money means I'm now only missing one Parker novel, the penultimate one, Ask the Parrot. But I should have that very soon indeed...