Sunday, December 20, 2020

“Hellsing”, written and illustrated by Kouta Hirano

 



144–208 pages, Dark Horse Manga, ISBN-13: 978-1593070564 (Volume 1), ISBN-13: 978-1593070571 (Volume 2), ISBN-13: 978-1593072025 (Volume 3), ISBN-13: 978-1593072599 (Volume 4), ISBN-13: 978-1593072728 (Volume 5), ISBN-13: 978-1593073022 (Volume 6), ISBN-13: 978-1593073480 (Volume 7), ISBN-13: 978-1593077808 (Volume 8), ISBN-13: 978-1595821577 (Volume 9), ISBN-13: 978-1595824981 (Volume 10)

Hellsing is a Japanese manga series written and illustrated by Kouta Hirano that chronicles the efforts of the mysterious and secret Hellsing Organization and its top agent Alucard (Alucard? Hmmmmm…there’s something fishy ‘bout that name) as it combats vampires, ghouls and other supernatural foes who threaten Merrie Olde England, and brother, is it a hoot. See, way back when, Abraham Van Helsing founded this thing called the Royal Order of Protestant Knights, which is now run by Integra Fairbrook Wingates Helsing after the untimely death of her father. When her uncle tries to hunt her down and kill her before everyone else knows the old man is dead, she flees to the basement levels of the headquarters where she comes across a desiccated corpse; uncle’s minions catch up with her there and, during the gun fight, Integra is injured and some of her blood lands on the corpse…which forms into the vampire Alucard (Alucard? Alucard. Al-U-Card…), Hellsing’s ancient secret weapon, for he is an undead monster who fights for Hellsing against the other undead of the world. He saves the girl and starts a new era for Hellsing as more adventures follow after this (told ya it was a hoot).

The layout is like it was in Japan, so the book starts with what would (in the West) be the back cover and you read it from the back to front; the comic panels and word bubbles are also laid out right to left on the page, which took a little getting used to but wasn’t too hard to master; strangely, most of the sound effects are still in Japanese, even though the dialogue is all translated into English (it’s easy to imagine what the sound effects refer to – sword slices, guns firing, feet creaking on floorboards, etc. – it’s just a little weird to have Japanese letters all over some frames and not know what they mean). As one reads this series, it becomes evident that characters aren’t really important to Hirano – nor, come to think of it, is logic. All he cares about is the art, which is, it must be said, pretty spectacular in a black-and-white ultraviolent sorta way. These drawings are almost enough to make you forget that you are reading a mish-mash of contrasting genres in which Alucard (?) and the Hellsing Organization fight-off the fifty-years delayed invasion of Britain by a Nazi army of vampires and werewolves AND the Iscariot Organization (also known as Vatican Section XIII), an arm of the Roman Catholic Church (Kouta helps us to distinguish between all of these characters and their loyalties through the use of heavily-accented English).

Back on March 5, 2019, I reviewed the 9-Volume Manga series Arm of Kannon by Masakazu Yamaguchi and said that “if you like your entrails rendered with anatomical specificity, Arm of Kannon might be your cup of tea. Anyone in search of a coherent plot or sympathetic characters, however, is advised to look elsewhere”. I feel as if I should say the same for Hellsing…but I just can’t, as I enjoyed this series so much more than Kannon. Perhaps it’s because, for all of the violence and the bloodshed and the incoherence and whatnot, there’s a certain oh, I don’t know, joie de vivre to the series (if that’s the right way to describe a violent metaphysical Manga series). I can just see Kouta having a blast drawing Nazi werewolves fighting English knights and Catholic agents, logic and plotting and characterization be damned. This series was weird, but fun, damnit, and I almost want to read it all over again just for the hell of it…OH! Alucard! That’s “Dracula” spelled backwards! My, aren’t we clever.

Wednesday, December 16, 2020

“The Lives of the Kings and Queens of England”, edited by Antonia Fraser

 


384 pages, University of California Press, ISBN-13: 978-0520224605

If you have ever read anything…ANYTHING…by Antonia Fraser, then you know that she is a no-nonsense historian; even something that she hasn’t written but merely edited, like, say, The Lives of the Kings and Queens of England, can drag on you like the encrusted barnacles on the bottom of a ship. But, then again, this work is more of a glossy big picture book of kings and queens and is more of a general reference work for anyone interested in English royal history. The color illustrations are lavish, the brief biographies hit all of the high points and the genealogies of the various royal houses are very useful when trying to trace the convoluted relationships of England’s oh-so-many royals.

With that said, and while I understand that these biographies were intended to be nothing more than thumbnail sketches, there were several in which some important details were lacking, while for some biographies there were almost too many details, as if the authors tried to squeeze so much detail into a few pages that I began to lose the feel of what was going on (the biography of Elizabeth II is particularly disappointing, as the writer throws objectivity right out the window). For all that, this is a rather handy book to have around when you can’t remember which of Henry VIII’s wives died on the block, or when you just can’t figure out how the hell a bunch of Germans ended up on the British throne, or want to know why Queen Victoria died in the arms of Kaiser Bill. Lots of information on all matters royal are to be had, as well, including ancient traditions, heraldry, issues of precedent, the crown jewels, court dress, palaces, pastimes and other fun facts. Altogether, it is more of a book of reference in case you read other books about kings and queens of England.

Sunday, December 13, 2020

“Warfare and the Third Reich: The Rise and Fall of Hitler’s Armed Forces (Classic Conflicts)”, edited by Christopher Chant

 

450 pages, Smithmark Publishers, ISBN-13: 978-0831772895

Warfare and the Third Reich: The Rise and Fall of Hitler’s Armed Forces is part of a series called “Classic Conflicts” – of which I have no other volumes. Ah, well. Be warned that this is not your typical faithful reproduction of the war, but rather a collection of interesting facts of the people and events that impacted the war. The story begins in the 1930s with Hitler’s rise to power and the henchmen that helped him achieve it, i.e. Hermann Göring, Joseph Goebbels, Heinrich Himmler, amongst many others. This book is a bit of a heavy history more geared for academic study then edge of your seat page-turner, but as with any book of this size, there are always bound to be interesting bits of information, and Warfare indeed does deliver on that. There are a number of details on army group makeup, command structure and tactics as well as a good review of German Army campaign citations and medals, besides.

As for the battles, there are writings on the air war over Britain, the fight for control of the Atlantic, and the battles for Moscow, Stalingrad, Kursk and many others. German weapons, from pistols to tanks, are also discussed and include the advantages and disadvantages the German soldier faced against his (many) enemies. In the science and technology section there is interesting coverage of the weapons of the future, which was a pleasant surprise as it covers more than just the V1 and V2 missiles, or the Me-262 jet; German scientists were working on other missile technology that might surprise you. If you are interested in warfare and the Third Reich then by all means pick up Warfare and the Third Reich; but only if you are not a newcomer to the field.

Wednesday, December 9, 2020

“The Columbia History of the World”, edited by John A. Garraty and Peter Gay, forward by William J. McGill

 


1257 pages, Harper & Row Publishers, ISBN-13: 978-0060114329

Dang. The Columbia History of the World has been sitting on my bookshelf since 1987. I got it from the Barnes & Noble over stock pile (just how many times have I said that, anyway?) when I was still a kid and bought damn near any book with “history” in the title, I was hooked so. Be warned, though: this book seems to have been written for college history professors, not the general public, as names, ideas and terms are mentioned with no explanation as to what they are – almost as if one is expected to have a priori knowledge of these matters. That, and the writing is as dry as sandpaper left out in the sun in the Sahara Dessert. But then again, what would you expect? In addition to John A. Garraty (who earned his doctorate and taught history at Columbia) and Peter Gay (originally Peter Joachim Fröhlich and a Sterling Professor of History at Yale University), other authors include Jacques Barzun, Richard Hofstadter and Ernest Nagel. That’s a lotta brain power, but not necessarily a lotta writing talent.

Okay, with all that out of the way, there’s this: Columbia is much more than a mere blow-by-blow recitation of facts, peppered as it is with economic and political science insights, such as: the observation that in ancient Athens, “the rights of private property [were] the only sure foundation of civil liberty [so that’s where the Founding fathers got it!]”; or “[t]he first need of any social system is to create incentives to make people do more work than required by their immediate wants [hear that, Democrats?]”; and also “religion provided the incentive for works of economic supererogation [well…obviously. Yeah]”. If you’re looking for a history full of verve with a gripping narrative, go elsewhere, BUT if its ideas that float your boat, then get yer oars out and start paddling.


Monday, December 7, 2020

“Pontormo Rosso Fiorentino (Library of Great Masters)”, by Elisabetta Marchetti Letta

 


80 pages, Riverside Book Company, ISBN-13: 978-1878351487

I don’t always know why I buy a book: a spur-of-the-moment interest; a desire to expand my horizons past their typical borders; it’s cheap…lottsa reasons, which is all I can say about Pontormo Rosso Fiorentino by Elisabetta Marchetti Letta for the “Library of Great Masters”…’cause it was a spur-of-the-moment interest in a cheap book. First, that confusing as hell title: Pontormo Rosso Fiorentino refers to “Pontormo” – also known as Jacopo Carucci – the Italian Mannerist painter and portraitist from the Florentine School; and “Rosso Fiorentino” – also known as Giovanni Battista di Jacopo and even “Il Rosso”, the Red – another Italian Mannerist painter likewise belonging to the Florentine school; so this is kind of a two-in-one overview of a couple of artists whose style and influence were similar.

Pontormo Rosso Fiorentino traces the lives and works of these two artists, examining the fundamental importance of ideas drawn from sculpture to them, and the place of Donatello as one of their main influences in this regard. And why not? Both were born barely three months apart in Florence in 1494; both were pupils of Andrea del Sarto; and both of their careers often ran parallel to one another, punctuated by matching dates that mark a series of professional achievements. Furthermore, whole swathes of the turbulent history of Florence, in particular, and Italy, as a whole, during the Renaissance is reflected in the biographies of these two (little known) artists, and for that reason alone this book was well worth…whatever I paid for it.


Wednesday, December 2, 2020

“The Teutonic Knights: A Military History”, by William Urban

 



288 pages, Greenhill Books, ISBN-13: 978-1853675355

The Teutonic Knights – The Order of Brothers of the German House of Saint Mary in Jerusalem – Ordo domus Sanctæ Mariæ Theutonicorum Hierosolymitanorum – Orden der Brüder vom Deutschen Haus der Heiligen Maria in Jerusalem – The Teutonic Order – Deutscher Orden, Deutschherrenorden or Deutschritterorden – is a Catholic religious order founded as a military order in 1190 in Acre in the former and long-dead Kingdom of Jerusalem (and it’s still around, too, serving as a charitable organization by established numerous clinics, as well as sponsoring excavation and tourism projects in Israel).

But none of that concerns us here, as William Urban’s book The Teutonic Knights: A Military History is about when the Teutons went about the Middle East and Northern Europe, converting if they could and killing if they must (it must be said that it was the second bit that they were best at). Urban – the Lee L. Morgan Professor of History and International studies at Monmouth College who specializes in the Baltic Crusades and Teutonic Knights – has given us a comprehensive account of the rise and fall of a great military order; most importantly, he has demonstrated convincingly that the Teutonic Knights was a Christian organization, like many others, dedicated to helping the sick and advancing Christianity via the crusade, and not some kind of twisted forerunner of Nazi Germany; indeed, he takes generations of so-called historians and political leaders to task for creating and perpetuating this myth, which does not honestly study the Order’s history but rather foments ethnic hatreds between Germans, Poles, Lithuanians, and Russians. Since this book is a military history of the Teutonic Knights, the author poses this in the Introduction:

Why a book on the military history of the Teutonic Knights? Why not earlier?...One answer is the best historians of the crusades have traditionally concentrated their attentions on the Holy Land; most medieval historians in recent decades have lacked much interest in military affairs; and amateur historians in the English-speaking world are not prepared to handle the many languages involved in studying Baltic and East Central European history....Another good answer, perhaps more fundamental, is that the English-speaking public was generally unaware that there had been crusades in the Baltic, and, moreover, for many years also lost interest in the medieval efforts to recover Jerusalem. No demand, hence no response by authors and publishers.


The Teutonic Knights are often portrayed in a rather negative light, either as an early manifestation of later German attempts to expand into the east, or as a barrier to the conversion of the pagans. Urban paints them in a rather more positive light, at least in the earlier part of their time in Prussia and Livonia, when he believes that their religious motivations were rather more genuine than many other authors. Although the defeat at Tannenberg had surprisingly little direct impact, it did change the nature of the organization, and in the last few decades of its existence as a major power the order became increasingly divided and dependent on mercenaries. Urban has done a good job of relating the military exploits of the order, while at the same time examining the changing nature of their opponents, the development of Poland-Lithuania, the problems caused by the conversion of most of the pagans, the decreasing appeal of the crusade in the rest of Europe and the place of the Teutonic Knights in the wider Catholic Church. This is an excellent study of an important and often misunderstood military order.