Author Archives: davec

Monkey King

So far I am enjoying this book immensely, especially in comparison to our previous text. The work starts with an introduction to a piece of Chinese folklore called the Monkey King. This immediately caught my eye for two reasons, the first is because I am fascinated by folklore in general, and the second is that I realized I had seen incarnations of this “character” before in popular culture, so I wanted to learn more about it. The monkey king apparently originates from a novel written in the 16th century called The Journey to the West, and it is considered something of a national treasure. Indeed this story has been told many times in different ways over the last few hundred years, and some of them I have managed to absorb even on a casual basis. He is known in the west as the Monkey King, but in China he goes by Sun Wukong, and in Japan he goes by Son Goku. The flying nimbus, the magical red staff, and the tail are no coincidences; the main character of the famous DragonBall is the Monkey King himself, told with heavy creative license of course. I can’t say I see a great deal of paralell beyond the superficial but my experience with both subjects is limited. Perhaps someone more familiar with the imagery could point out more deeply running themes. Goku seems to be more human than monkey and any mischief he shows in the early series stems mostly out of the fact that he is a child, rather than being a deity of mischief.

Another little factoid was that in the 2008 film The Forbidden Kingdom Jet Li plays the monkey king, and a few aspects of his character are shown throughout the film. Also the nerd in me would like to point out that you can play as the Monkey King in little big planet, and an incarnation of him in Marvel vs Capcom 2.

I find it interesting that we see the Monkey King in popular culture, considering how steeped in popular culture the work American Born Chinese is. Has anyone else seen a a version of the Monkey King out and about?

Monkey King,

So far I am enjoying this book immensely, especially in comparison to our previous text. The work starts with an introduction to a piece of Chinese folklore called the Monkey King. This immediately caught my eye for two reasons, the first is because I am fascinated by folklore in general, and the second is that I realized I had seen incarnations of this “character” before in popular culture, so I wanted to learn more about it. The monkey king apparently originates from a novel written in the 16th century called The Journey to the West, and it is considered something of a national treasure. Indeed this story has been told many times in different ways over the last few hundred years, and some of them I have managed to absorb even on a casual basis. He is known in the west as the Monkey King, but in China he goes by Sun Wukong, and in Japan he goes by Son Goku. The flying nimbus, the magical red staff, and the tail are no coincidences; the main character of the famous DragonBall is the Monkey King himself, told with heavy creative license of course. I can’t say I see a great deal of paralell beyond the superficial but my experience with both subjects is limited. Perhaps someone more familiar with the imagery could point out more deeply running themes. Goku seems to be more human than monkey and any mischief he shows in the early series stems mostly out of the fact that he is a child, rather than being a deity of mischief.

Another little factoid was that in the 2008 film The Forbidden Kingdom Jet Li plays the monkey king, and a few aspects of his character are shown throughout the film. Also the nerd in me would like to point out that you can play as the Monkey King in little big planet, and an incarnation of him in Marvel vs Capcom 2.

I find it interesting that we see the Monkey King in popular culture, considering how steeped in popular culture the work American Born Chinese is. Has anyone else seen a a version of the Monkey King out and about?

Respondents- A post without a plot?

I am not going to touch the peaches with any detail because I think Jeanine nailed it. Instead I am going to muse for a moment. Someone described Jimmy Corrigan to me as “an extremely depressing” book, and that got me excited to read it, as many of my favorite stories are fairly downbeat.  What that might say about me aside, I tried very hard to enjoy Jimmy Corrigan. In the end however, I found it to be a test of the reader’s endurance. I kept waiting for the “hook” and found that there was none. Ware seems more intent on creating a mood more than anything else, and while he manages to get some small details about life so right, I’m not sure how I feel about it as a whole.  I don’t know if anyone else can relate to this, but this book reminded me of Gus Van Sant’s film “Gerry.” A movie with almost no dialogue, only 2 characters, no clear plot, small exchanges between the two are themselves abstracted though enlightening to characters and relationships but little else; it becomes a visceral experience more than anything else. You find yourself waiting for the catch, where the plot will kick in, but it never does, more importantly you begin to try and find a meaning within the work, looking for symbols, patterns. Humans seek meaning in everything, when we can find no clear meaning we go up a level in abstraction, until a work with no clear meaning is about having no meaning. While Jimmy’s story is not nearly as sparse as that film, I do see similarities, both in construction and how I approach it. I think that both work at a level somewhere one or two levels of abstraction above where a plot might sit. You might say “Gerry” is about using  the audiences expectations as to what a film should be, and dashing them at every turn. Jimmy on the other hand is rich with symbolism, having to do with a variety of Jimmy’s problems. So I think that by having a work without clear plot, can sometimes make us think more critically about the work, to our own benefit.

I also think that, in response to the poster who talked about Ware being similar to Jimmy, there is indeed some truth there. If you read the notes at the end of the book, Ware talks about making contact with his own estranged father and how that worked itself out in his book. Indeed I think most would agree that among a few other things, one of the key themes is parental influence, or lack thereof.

Overall, as much as I wanted to like this book, I just found it mostly a chore to get through. Where I think Ware really succeeds is in his form. The art and layout as well as his ability to juggle realities and time periods, all point to greatness. I wish I didn’t hate it so much.

First Readers: Vigilantism, in before flood.

I think we can say with confidence that there is a lot going on in the Watchmen, but one of the stronger themes in the book deals with the legitimacy of authority. If Watchmen were told using traditional superhero’s the point may not be as clear (I mean traditional in character, not appearance). However, as they are, emotionally stirred (or disturbed) and sometimes morally dubious, there is a justified question that arises in “What gave these people the authority?” We certainly didn’t elect them. The practice that they use to legitimize their vigilantism predates elections. In some ways the way that these people took power is an ancient practice. A war hero comes to power and legitimacy because he proves that he can protect the people, or strike fear into them. In the case of the Nite Owl and even more so, the Silk Specter, it is hereditary. With the type of behavior that the “heroes” in Watchmen exhibit, there is little wonder why the people would pass the Keene Act.

The Keene act which forces the masked avengers into retirement or registration. Most of these masks did retire, and the Comedian and Dr. Manhattan went on to work for the state. The only one who refused to hang up his uniform, was Rorschach.  Like Batman, Rorschach refuses to retire, and we see the desire for justice pushed to the limits of understanding. Both of these characters are so unrelenting in their own particular view of good and evil, justice and wrong, that they paint targets on their heads… They ultimately become an obstacle for the peace of other people, among a great many other problems. Nevertheless, the reader is usually inclined to side with the renegade hero. This usually is because the heroes are thought to be made of stronger moral metal than the state. They are fulfilling a role that the state should, but is unable to do so because it is weak or compromising. Rorschach says this in his own fun way when he staples a note that says “Never” to the body of a serial rapist, left dead outside a police station (Never, of course, referring to when he will retire). He is saying that, the state, or the system by which we legitimize our leaders is forever broken and will always need his assistance in doing their job. He caught the rapist after all, and took from him the opportunity of due process and possible release (or improvement) by killing him. I can’t assume to know your own reaction to this, but for me, and I suspect others, there was a certain degree of satisfaction in this action. However, later, Rorschach crosses the line. Breaking fingers in a bar is pretty bad, especially doing so on a whim. Even worse, Rorschach, accosts the ex-villain Moloch in his own home. Despite being living proof that criminals can reform, Rorschach still shows his justice is uncompromising by pinning and interrogating the old man, who also happens to have cancer.

I think that, despite the obviously limited reach of a character like Rorschach, we will see that giving power to any one person do dole out their own brand of justice has serious problems. For the same reason that we do (try our best at) not legislating morality, we cannot hand over our rights and our justice system to someone just because they have shown strength. Alan Moore, seems to be tackling this idea more than anything.