A lot of people have asked why I didn't include any historical notes in Gone to Amerikay. I DID, but we ended up without enough pages to fit them. Karen Berger has posted my notes on the Vertigo site. (For best results, read them AFTER you read the book.)
The owner of my shop, who's really a bagged-spandex kinda guy at heart, doesn't usually grok most of what I order, and not very talkative, commented "that looks pretty interesting" when he rang up my copy of GTA.
I did a podcast interview a while back, and somewhere in the middle of it I quoted a line from Avalon: "If I knew things would no longer be, I would have tried to remember them better." I was thinking about that today, and wishing I'd elaborated a little more on what that thought meant to me. To wit: all things are impermanent, even our frames of reference. When you're young you absorb the set of cultural assumptions that hold sway in your time. You may embrace them and conform or you may chafe and rebel, but either way you're reacting to the understanding of the world held in common by the society you inhabit. But just as all material things are impermanent, so too are those intangibles. They change gradually for the most part, but the day comes eventually when you look around and realise that some of the assumptions you've always taken for granted no longer hold sway. If you live long enough, you find that MOST of the assumptions have passed away. It's not just that you don't understand the world around you anymore -- it goes both ways. There is literally nobody around you who understands firsthand the world that created you. And so I believe that it's a primary duty of the artist to express as fully and completely as possible the nature of the world that bore him (or her). And for those of us who work in, say, historical fiction, the responsibility is twofold: to resurrect, through sheer force of imagination, a full and living culture that you never saw yourself; and to render that time in a way that says "Here is what it was like now, and only now, to try to understand what happened then."
Cory Doctorow gave Gone to Amerikay an amazingly positive review on Boing Boing. Don't know if it's going to translate into more books sold, but there's been a massive retweet of the article, probably the biggest push I've seen for the book since we were in the WSJ.
There's also a good review in the Onion AV Club today, though there's a firewall between me and that site where I am right now and can't link to it for the moment.
Oh, the money quote it Doctorow's review is: "This is a sensitive treatment of race and class, sexuality and art, betrayal and gender, and above all, the immigrant experience in America. Like a great folk song, it is at once simple and complex, a paradoxical confection that could only have been rendered in graphic form."
I *think* this German review of Gone to Amerikay is a good one, but the Google translation makes it difficult to be certain. ("McCulloch's story and style meet so Doran." How often I've said that myself.)
Anthony's embarking on pencils for the third and final chapter of Displaced Persons. Hard to believe we're already at that stage or finally at that stage, depending on how you look at it.
In other news, I'm trying to break out of a bit of stasis. I have a couple things I'm supposed to be working on that have no real deadlines, which is always hard for me. And I have a looming later deadline -- a late-July second workshop for the Stagger Lee musical. I want to have a new draft written for that. But between day job tsuris and family stuff and just plain inertia, I'm not getting anything done. Last night a wrote a little bit for a comics project that I have no professional reason to be writing -- no deal in place, no agreement with the artist -- it's just the thing that happened to be ready to come out. Can't really control that most of the time. Hoping the day job lightens up this week and lets me get my bearings again on all the other stuff.
I guess I've been forgetting to post things here this past month. Just got this nice review today (particularly nice to Colleen) from Scripps. "I can see "Gone to Amerikay" being used in English classes to explore story structure; history classes to illustrate themes of immigration and the American Dream; and art classes to teach Doran's masterful approach to storytelling, blocking and rendering. But, most of all, I expect to see it on a lot of domestic bookshelves as a well-thumbed favorite story."
Whoa. Miami Herald says of Gone to Amerikay, "Master storyteller McCulloch’s wise and poignant tale of Irish immigrants coming to America, weaving three different time periods in parallel, is soulfully illustrated by veteran artist Doran. It’s a heartfelt and genuine story of human emotions and drama; nothing post-modern, snarky or ironic here, just believable behavior depicted with lyrical dialog and rich imagery. You’ll want to re-read it as soon as you finish to savor and reflect upon the transcendent intelligence and artistic vision responsible for this masterpiece. Highly recommended."
Comments
I did a podcast interview a while back, and somewhere in the middle of
it I quoted a line from Avalon: "If I knew things would no longer be, I
would have tried to remember them better." I was thinking about that
today, and wishing I'd elaborated a little more on what that thought
meant to me. To wit: all things are impermanent, even our frames of
reference. When you're young you absorb the set
of cultural assumptions that hold sway in your time. You may embrace
them and conform or you may chafe and rebel, but either way you're
reacting to the understanding of the world held in common by the society
you inhabit. But just as all material things are impermanent, so too
are those intangibles. They change gradually for the most part, but the
day comes eventually when you look around and realise that some of the
assumptions you've always taken for granted no longer hold sway. If you
live long enough, you find that MOST of the assumptions have passed
away. It's not just that you don't understand the world around you
anymore -- it goes both ways. There is literally nobody around you who
understands firsthand the world that created you. And so I believe that
it's a primary duty of the artist to express as fully and completely as
possible the nature of the world that bore him (or her). And for those
of us who work in, say, historical fiction, the responsibility is
twofold: to resurrect, through sheer force of imagination, a full and
living culture that you never saw yourself; and to render that time in a
way that says "Here is what it was like now, and only now, to try to
understand what happened then."
There's also a good review in the Onion AV Club today, though there's a firewall between me and that site where I am right now and can't link to it for the moment.
Google translation makes it difficult to be certain. ("McCulloch's story
and style meet so Doran." How often I've said that myself.)
story structure; history classes to illustrate themes of immigration and
the American Dream; and art classes to teach Doran's masterful approach
to storytelling, blocking and rendering. But, most of all, I expect to
see it on a lot of domestic bookshelves as a well-thumbed favorite
story."
And there was this one from CBR last week.
I think there was another recent one but I forget.
immigrants coming to America, weaving three different time periods in
parallel, is soulfully illustrated by veteran artist Doran. It’s a
heartfelt and genuine story of human emotions and drama; nothing
post-modern, snarky or ironic here, just believable behavior depicted
with lyrical dialog and rich imagery. You’ll want to re-read it as soon
as you finish to savor and reflect upon the transcendent intelligence
and artistic vision responsible for this masterpiece. Highly
recommended."