The Spear, James Herbert

"When Steadman agreed to investigate the disappearance of a young Mossad agent, he had no idea he would be drawn into a malevolent conspiracy of neo-Nazi cultists bent on unleashing an age-old unholy power on an unsuspecting world -- power rising out of a demonic relic from man's dark primal past to threaten humanity with horror from beyond any nightmare"














James Herbert has written a lot of books, and some of them are even passably good fiction, although there's a lot of his ouevre that's perennial charity shop fare, and is as indifferently similar as to count as a single story. These are the stories that as a young teenagers I thrilled to, because they contain lashings of violence, sex and the kind of stupid plotlines that would make most writers wince. At his best, and even in his worst books, Herbert can pack a punch, he creates a crude homonculus of disgust. It's never deep, and it's rarely psychological, but it still has a thrill to it.

Of his better books, I have exceptionally fond memories of '48, a book which has probably been helped by the fact I've never revisited it, even though I have a well thumbed copy. From memory, it features a post-apocalyptic London decimated by Nazi superweapons (this may or may not have included Zombies). Hoping for something similar from a book which promises undead Himmler on the back cover I picked this up cheap in Hay-on-Wye.

Frankly, whichever reviewer picked out undead Himmler as a highlight was probably reading a different book to me. Himmler isn't especially resurrected, so much as his (possessed?) corpse shambles around for the final few pages before collapsing when stabbed with the spear of Longinus. All of this is played out as part of a reworking of Parsifal. To say it's confused is to do it a disservice, it's tightly focussed, but the focus isn't very interesting. Usually a NAZI secret society controlling all levels of British Government to fight Israel with biblical weaponery would be enough, without bringing in Wagnerian Opera sideplots, but here neither the motivational plots of the hero, villains or side characters seem to match the up at all.

Apparently a court ruled that James Herbert based most of this on work from another author (The Spear of Destiny by Trevor Ravenscroft). So now you know.

Also Try:
Trevor Ravenscroft, The Spear of Destiny (only seems fair)
James Herbert, The Rats, The Fog, '48
Stephen King, Different Seasons

Preacher: Gone to Texas, Garth Ennis

"Merging with a bizarre spiritual force called Genesis, Texan Preacher Jesse Custer becomes completely disillusioned with the beliefs that he had dedicated his entire life to. Now possessing the power of "the word," an ability to make people do whatever he utters, Custer begins a violent and riotous journey across the country. Joined by his gun-toting girlfriend Tulip and the hard drinking Irish vampire Cassidy, the Preacher loses faith in both man and God as he witnesses dark atrocities and improbable calamities during his exploration of America."










First of all, this isn't a book for kids. If there were one comic that defines the idea that comics can be both adult and good, then this is it. There's enough sex, violence, big ideas, booze, blood, cursing and brilliance to fill a hundred lesser books that think that sticking some nudity in will cover the bill.

If you can find your way past that, and most of the time I can, you'll find that Preacher is one of the wittiest, most challenging books around. There are very few graphic novels that will still be talked about in 30 years time but I don't mind thinking that Preacher is one of them - it's nearly 15 years since it was first published, so it hardly seems unlikely.

Ennis sets up a situation that is brilliantly simple in its economic storytellin (what do you do with the power of God) and yet somehow manages to bring in vampires, the hosts of heaven, a serial killer, the Saint of Killers, John Wayne, the World's Unluckiest Cop (and his bondage hiding partner), and hints at much more to come. Much of this will pay off over the next eight volumes, but the wonder of it is that left on its own this is a fully contained first collection. It may leave you wanting more but it has a somewhat fulfilled ending.

The art work requires mention, because whilst Steve Dillon has been great elsewhere, it's here that he really shines. I've said before that nobody draws violence like Dillon, and it's on show here. His sequences with the Saint of Killers taking down a dozen policemen and their helicopter support is wonderful, not just for the illustrated carnage, but for the facial expressions of both Saint and cops. Sure,. sometimes it's hard to distinguish between different people, but he does a better job here than usual at creating characters who look different enough to be recognisable, and it's an otherwise peerless job.

For many the plot and content will be off putting, and it certainly isn't for the faint hearted. I remember loving it as a teenage boy (which is hardly surprising) but I also found a lot to love coming back to it as an adult. The fact that in the intervening years I became a Christian, and thus can critically respond to a story about God abandoning his creation in fear of new ideas is slightly irrelevant in this review. The point is that this is a book that works, on every level, and one that sums up an age and aesthetic in comics that can't really be found anywhere else anymore.

If you ever see this first volume cheap. Buy it. You may just have a new favourite on your hands.

Also Try:
Garth Ennis, Punisher MAX
Garth Ennis, The Punisher kills the Marvel Universe
Garth Ennis, Thor: Vikings