Why Should I read... Green Lantern Rebirth

Every kid has heard a grandparent, or parent, or just an old person tell them how much better things were way back when. Maybe that's true sometimes. I personally have no frame of reference. I never just got an orange for Christmas. I've never walked to school over 20 miles barefoot in the snow. I never mixed fruit with sawdust and claimed it was a meal. Hard to imagine how that might have been better than how things are now. Green Lantern Rebirth gives me the same feeling.

Again, I have no basis of comparison. My reading habits have often steered me away from the more mainstream titles, so my first Green Lantern experience was this book. I had three attempts at reading it and therefore three experiences reading it.

The first time around, I sat down to read what I thought would be a classic superhero comic book. You know the kind of thing; heroic stances in Lycra, vanquished villains and witty one liners. I was expecting a reboot and a return to those days of yore. What I found was a number of multidimensional characters struggling to come to terms with what had gone before. A vast and emotional landscape was laid out very quickly, not only for the central Hal Jordan, but for those connected to him, from close friends and family, to those only connected by the common ground of the Green Lantern Corps. It was so complex and subtle, so different from what I had expected, I was forced to set it down and revisit it at a later date.

I did a little research to prepare myself. I tapped up Wikipedia to understand (albeit in abridged form) what had lead to this point. Rebirth is very much not a reboot of Green Lantern. It is a point in the timeline of the Green Lantern universe where the characters react and reflect on the events of such massive magnitude that time is required to process. It is a time when a line is drawn under what has gone before, and as the reader you observe the line being drawn and most importantly what it takes to draw it.

The second time I tried to read Rebirth, I discovered that the story was about that line, not what the line was being drawn under. It's always nice to know, as insatiable as curiosity is, but it's not necessary. My second attempt at reading the stopping point was the characters. Not only had I not read Green Lantern before, but despite years as a comic nerd, I was a relative novice to the wider DC universe. I was drawn away to check out the lesser characters; the various Lanterns of note, the villains, the 'normal' people of prominence and so on. While Rebirth is a great entry point in to the Lantern universe, there is a lot of history prior to it and it deserves to be respected. So I read up, and returned fully prepared to sit and read the book in its entirety, and I did.

The book reads like a hole in a fence. You look one way and you get a good look at the past. You look straight ahead, you can see what's happening, flashes of change, of motion. You look another way and you get a good idea of what's coming. But you can't see it all at once, no matter how hard you press your face against the fence panel. Given this book contains so much, is a lynchpin between stories, characters and their emotions, it's just about the perfect way to write it.

That's not to say it is a very accessible book. You need to be prepared for the intricacies of the interactions between the characters (knowing who they are certainly helps). There's a certain level of effort required to deal with some of the more fantastical or ethereal elements of the book. They are rewarding when you become familiar with them, but to the uninitiated they could be daunting.

Rebirth is very compelling once you are underway. It draws you in to its various elements as an angler might a fish, gently teasing and tugging as it switches pace and direction. Whilst I loved that aspect, I wouldn't place it in the hands of a novice comic book reader, but to someone familiar with the medium, it is as satisfying as any book I've read.

Green Lantern Rebirth is ultimately a gateway in to the Green Lantern, one that I strongly suggest you step through. Just don't trip over the Ryan Reynolds on the way in.

Chris Boyle is prepping the one man cave to rule them all.

Why Should I Read... The Umbrella Academy: Apocalypse Suite?

Gerard Way wrote The Umbrella Academy. I open with that simple statement because on a superficial level, when you judge a book by it's cover, that is the most obvious (if superficial) fact about these books.

In case you don't know, Gerard Way is most famous for fronting alternative rock band My Chemical Romance. This is something of a polarising fact, as in my experience the band and their music invoke strong responses, both positive and negative. Personally, I'm not a fan of the band. Obviously, the graphic novel is not musical piece of work, but it is a creation of art nonetheless. The advice here is simple; leave your preconceptions, whatever they may be, at the door - come in and buy these books.

I say this with confidence, even gusto. I have been reading comics for over two decades. To give you an idea of scale; At any given point my pile of graphic novels that are waiting to be read totals over two grand in cost. It's safe to say I've read a lot of graphic novels but I have never read a book that made me feel like this one did.

The cornerstone of any book of this kind is the characters. The reader is introduced to a high number of characters quite quickly, each unique and fascinating. The relationship between them is shown to us through a series of carefully crafted interactions. These really are the work of a master comic book writer, they are subtle but uncomplicated, done with reserved dialogue and imagery. The story itself is interlaced with the relationships so it's revealed in parallel, again with real dexterity and texture. It's this layer upon gossamer layer approach to creating the Umbrella Academy that drew me in until I was completely immersed.

The original artwork for the Umbrella Academy was created by Gerard Way, who's first real creative medium was art. Although none of Way's artwork was used in the novel, artist Gabriel Bá did recreate Way's vision using it. This does mean a greater connection between the writing and artwork than usual. I found this allowed greater and faster access to the world Way has created, which due to its multiple layers and tangible intensity (at the emotionally appropriate moments) can be intimidating. The lining and wash colour bases felt to me that they removed the sharper edges of the book, allowing me to stay invested where I might have otherwise withdrawn.

A prime example of this is the central characters. Do not be mistaken, these are spectacular, weird, edge-of-reason characters. One of the central 'people' in this book is a gorilla in a space suit. It could easily be assumed that this kind of setup is somewhere between surreal and ridiculous. Isolated, either the writing or the artwork would be inaccessible, so far removed is it from the norm. The harsh, yet transparent personality of the character would be repellent in it's own right, and the imagery of a gorilla in a space suit is just bloody silly. Bringing them together however, creates a splendid yet sad representation of the burden of expectation. It creates a troubled yet understandable person striving to balance his own emotional well being against the welfare of others, and the demand he feels within himself to do so. This harmony of ideologies is not something I have ever seen before.

Because of this balance, the Umbrella Academy has a certain serenity to it. The issues are fantastic and incredible (and incredulous), as are the characters, backdrop and subject matter, but more importantly the relationships are accessible and relatable. The dysfunction within the family at the heart of the book gives a tinge of sadness to its core. Higher human achievements as discussed in this volume also only come with sacrifice, and that sense of loss for purpose is ingrained throughout.

Ultimately, I recommend Umbrella Academy because I have never experienced a story as emotionally unique as this one. To truly 'get it' you will need to open your mind to a new experience, accept it as entire piece and reflect on it. This isn't easy; an almost philosophical approach to reading a comic is an usual request to make of a reader. I truly believe it will be worth it, this is a very special read.

You'll probably end up wishing the worst of throat infections on Gerard Way, on the off chance he'll shut up and write more comics.

Chris Boyle is wondering what happened to the third volume of Umbrella Academy, Hotel Oblivion...

Why Should I Read... Chronicles of Wormwood

From a very early age, I was sent to Sunday School. I learned about Christianity, God, Jesus and the Bible. I learned about genesis and revelations and everything in between. I can't remember a point where I ever believed any of it, but I enjoyed the stories. The stories were great.

Skip ahead a few years, and instead of the writings of a bunch of dusty, desert dwelling gents making up random stuff to control the masses, I'm reading the scriptures of Garth Ennis. Instead of King James, the publisher is Avatar Press... And the stories? They got upgraded.

Ennis is probably best known for Preacher, his sprawling epic centred around the Reverend Jesse Custer and his battles with God. (See "Why Should I Read... Preacher?") Chronicles of Wormwood is another take on the Christian mythology, a little more modern, with an extra juicy dollop of grown-up humour. For me, that's the first thing that grabbed me about these books. Ultimately, faith and all of it's trappings are a serious business for those that have them. If you aren't a person of faith, then the tales that others believe in can seem ridiculous. Ennis takes this premise and turns it neatly on it's head, by asking a simple question; how ridiculous would it be if this crap were real?

The answers he gives are varied and numerous. There are jokes steeped in the beautiful irony of existential life, and there are knob gags. Ennis has always worked with juxtapositions for emphasis and Chronicles of Wormwood is no exception. The story shifts from the justification of humanity as discussed by the Devil and the AntiChrist, to the relatively workaday arguments about popular television production. Oh, and there are knob gags. There are meanderings from the end of a relationship, to the end of the world. Did I mention the knob gags? There are a frankly spectacular array of knob gags.

Bringing life to phallic fun is artist Jacen Burrows. Burrows draws with a distinct if not unique style, well suited to Ennis. The two have worked together regularly since 2002, when Burrows became a house artist at Avatar Press. This extensive working partnership allows Burrows to reflect the guttural nature of Ennis's writing. When the intensity of the book increases, Burrows matches it wonderfully, creating images which are visceral, both figuratively and literally.

The most alluring thing I found in Chronicles of Wormwood was the humanisation of the AntiChrist. As the central character, the story obviously revolves around him, but almost in a double helix. As with the other juxtapositions of the book, there are two areas of Wormwood's life at constant conflict. There is his desire to step away from the ultimate responsibility laid out for him by his father; Wormwood should be the instigator of the end of the world. He believes that humanity should be left to their own devices, so views Armageddon with apathy at best. This leads to conflict with his father but this is portrayed in a a very human way, as any son would struggle to live up to the expectations of an overbearing parent.

In his more regular life, Wormwood struggles again, as his very human character frailties threaten to tear his life apart. He makes terrible choices, and regularly hurts those he cares about. As the reader, it's possible to be left wondering whether this is simply the failings of a young man, or if his parentage is creeping in. The book then appears to mimic you, as Wormwood wonderfully begins to do the same.

Chronicles of Wormwood is a very fun, but insightful look at the end of the world. It's funny because it's not true... Or is it?

Chris Boyle is glad that you get a free pass on jokes about Star Wars nerds.

Why Should I Read... Invincible?

Invincible is written by Robert Kirkman. Robert Kirkman, creator of The Walking Dead, multi-continental TV success. When one of your projects hits mainstream media, then you get a label. I'm sure there are plenty of people who have seen the name Robert Kirkman and thought "I know him, he's the zombie guy!".

To those people I say "YOU ARE THE ZOMBIES! UNTHINKING, SLOW WITTED, SINGLE-MINDED MORONS! YOUR PARENTS WOULD BE ASHAMED! YOU GET A JOB!" or various other slurs and vitriol, depending on my mood. The painful fact of it is this; I've read a lot of Kirkman. Whilst I am a big fan of Walking Dead, it doesn't rate in my top three Kirkman books. Top of that list is Invincible.

If I was asked to differentiate between the two, The Walking Dead is his work. Invincible is his love. Kirkman brought various aspects of Invincible together from a lifetime of thinking. Some characters were first developed whilst he was still a teenager living at home. When I was a teenager, I wasn't producing ANYTHING that should be published in later life. Kirkman hung on to his emissions however, slotting them in as major players or just extras, whatever works. It does mean that he is truly invested, putting who he is down on paper. Every aspect of this book feels like that; plot, character development, dialogue, pacing - all have the feeling of being carefully nurtured, like a new puppy. Kirkman being Kirkman however, does dial up the intensity to kick the puppy in the face whenever he feels like it.

Because of this intensity, Invincible can look a little like a kids cartoon. The Invincible world certainly is a fantastic one, with a myriad of colourful characters and backdrops. It's not over-powering though, and after a little while, you realise it's a wonderful balance to the power in the writing. Real human, grass roots issues are rife throughout the series. Through these issues and the relationships involved in them, we see very detailed insights in to things which cause us joy and despair, love and envy. Without wanting to wax poetic, this is not a book about the lives of super-people, but a super book about people's lives. Writing human interest stories with a super backdrop is a personal favourite for me, and when done well, it equals any other format for story telling. Kirkman's writing allows you get involved in the person behind the super powers, but leaves you enough wiggle room to be excited about the action. It's then that you realise the balance between the writing and artwork really is very clever, and at it's best, beautiful or heartbreaking.

There are a variety of topics looked at in detail in Invincible. First and foremost this is a book about relationships. This is the area that Kirkman always excels at writing about; how do people interact? He is adept at using exciting backdrops; The apocalypse of Battle Pope, the zombies of Walking Dead, or the super heroes and villains of Invincible. This is the sizzle to the steak of the story. It's what Kirkman uses to get us to look at how parents and children interact when the pressure is on. How do friends fall in to social roles? What part does global politics play on personal relationships? These are questions that Kirkman loves to poke at. His writing is designed to give entry points, comparisons to your own life and more 'regular' universe are easy. This way, you buy in to the story because you think about your own.

The other thing that's always struck me about this book is it's humour. Take a look at any recent picture of Robert Kirkman. He's got a twinkle in his eye that tells you he finds life funny. What doesn't show up is how many different ways in which humour is utilised. Kirkman weaves in humour like a tapestrier working on a masterpiece. There are threads of slapstick, irony, sarcasm, wordplay placed carefully through the book. What's remarkable is that he's done this without making the book a work of comedy, it's just real. Life is funny. Life with super powered people would be super powered funny, and here it is exactly that.

I think you should read Invincible because it's a smorgasbord of delights, well written, well drawn and well done. I honestly feel enriched by having read this story.

Hell, you want an endorsement? I have one of the main characters from Invincible tattooed on my arm.

Chris Boyle is looking forward to the day when he can hand his son a stack of Invincible comics and a milkshake.

Why Should I Read… Barry Ween, Boy Genius?

When you are young, the world is a fantastic place. There are monsters under the bed, fairies at the bottom of the garden, dinosaurs at the park, and grown ups are just too stupid to see it. Every new sight, sound and smell is the first clue to a new adventure that's waiting to be had, just by you. Essentially, you are the centre of the universe, and it's bloody great. Then you get old. School gets hard, then you have to get a job, and that gets hard, and then you have to get a place to live, and a car, and a relationship, and life continues to kick the snot out of you until you forget what it is to be a kid.

Then, if you're lucky, your local purveyor of stories will press this book in to your world-weary hands, you will read it and you will remember.

Barry Ween, Boy Genius is the product of the mind of Judd Winick. Winick has received praise from the likes of Garth Ennis, Jeff Smith and Brian Michael Bendis for Barry Ween. He does have direct ties to DC and Marvel having written for both, so it's not surprising that some of the comic world's heavyweights have been exposed to and subsequently lined up in support of Barry Ween. So if I'm writing this, what the hell can I say that would persuade you to pick it up if their comments don't?

I am not here to give you sound bites. I am not a creator of blurb. But there really is something I can only describe as magical about Barry Ween. It has the same feel as many kids TV programmes from my youth; a child who the world sees as normal while the viewer sees as special. Barry is the most intelligent human ever, and thus uses his knowledge to invent the scientific marvels from all your standard sci-fi plots. Nothing untoward so far. Barry has a friend and sidekick, who only just understands what's going on, and only just stays out of harm's way with Barry's help. Again, staple stuff from kids TV programmes, comic strips and story books. Barry Ween is drawn like a kids book, it's very reminiscent of Calvin & Hobbes (which it is unjustly compared to constantly, so ignore that!) or any Beano or Dandy strip ever. But unlike every kids TV programme or book, Barry and his co-characters swear like they were raised in Gordon Ramsay's kitchen. It's certainly not gratuitous, and it's done skilfully and for appropriate affect - less of the "dropping the f-bomb" and more like "shots from the f-sniper". Either way, this book is certainly taking no prisoners and isn't apologising either. Real childhoods have swearing, by the way. Real kids discover swearwords and use them like they invented them, as soon as their parents are out of earshot. Winick knows this, and although at first it simply seems like a comedy tool, after reading you realise there's so much art in the writing, that in fact he's off-setting the over-the-top plots with some 'real' realism.

Barry Ween is a wonderful set of juxtapositions, and the real versus the unreal is just one of the most obvious. The second of which is my personal favourite though; there is a real clash of humour and poignancy that makes this more that a good comic, it makes it a great story. Winick is able to show you the funniest moments of a child that's smarter than everyone else. Things like Barry Ween and his best friend chasing down a stoned Bigfoot intent on eating Barry's parents because he has the munchies. Winick is also able to give you just five panels that instantly show you the utterly heartbreaking loneliness that is a 10-year-old boy who is the most intelligent being alive. The harsh reality of his situation is stark contrast to the unrelenting savagery of the humour, but somehow both are showcased with equal mastery. It left me with the same feeling you get when shown close up magic - you're not sure how it was done, by damn it you can't help but be impressed.

So why should you read Barry Ween? It's a surprising gift of a book. It gives you more than a story. It gives you emotion, it gives you laughter, but I think that most of all, it gives you youth. That's a lot for a book, don't you think?

Chris Boyle is looking forward to the day when his infant son can take over the world...

Why Should I Read... Incorruptible/Irredeemable?

The traditional comic book ideas have their roots in the favourite question of our imaginations; What if? What if superheroes existed? What if there were aliens out there? What if the newly elected president on the world's most powerful nation teamed up with Ashley "Ash" J. Williams to battle the eternal forces of darkness? Comic book readers have been reading the answers for decades. Since the golden age however, comic book writers have had license to kick it up a gear. As the social acceptance for hard hitting writing rises, so does the deviation from the norm.

As such, Incorruptible and Irredeemable are not new concepts. Certainly the major comic book publishers have covered the turn of all their central characters to the darker end of the moral scale, either in their standard run or in one-off specials. One of my favourite aspects of these books is being smashed in to this huge global change without prior knowledge of the universe in which they are taking place, or the characters in it. Whilst familiarity does often breed contempt, there are enough staple character types, concepts and situations to enable the reader to feel at home, whilst still showing you something new.

Irredeemable and Incorruptible are a double helix, weaving their way through the world of the Plutonian. They barely touch and that's the beauty of these books. Irredeemable focuses on the core - the decline of the most powerful man in the world and the effect on those closest to him. This is done very skilfully, somehow simultaneously showing as both a sudden explosion and a slow burn. This is accomplished with heavy use of flashbacks. This does place a demand upon the reader for a certain level of attention, but I found that the drip feed of information it created kept me ticking along nicely.

Adversely, Incorruptible focuses on one individual and the rest of the world. It feels set at street level, as opposed to the lofty stratosphere of the most powerful. The impact of super beings on those who live normal lives is thrust forcefully in the face of the lead, through whose eyes we learn the finer points of life. Despite it's post-apocalyptic feel, there is a softer tone to Incorruptible. Some may feel it's simpler, but it has it's own intricacies that allow the book to stand on its own. The linking of the stories definitely make Incorruptible the secondary book, but I find it hard to recommend one over the other. There are similarities and individual merits, but if you have the means to buy both, they are equally rewarding.

With both books, characters are key and there are central themes. The affect on mental health when such absolutes are in play is a cornerstone. Again, this is not a new concept, covered multiple times as comic books have become more intelligent. This story portrays the subject matter in new ways, using both internal and external constructs of the mind in real and imagined settings, creating it's own version of crazy. This is a very clever way of weaving the reality back in to a very full fantasy, giving human qualities to both the inhuman and superhuman alike. The characters are also not 100% original, and whilst I find myself using those sort of statements repeatedly, please don't let this put you off. The comfortable parallels of both the central and peripheral characters at times just feels like a little reward, as if to say if you've read enough to catch a reference then you've earned a nod and a wink. This is done subtly, with neither derision or homage.

As with all books of this nature, it is very easy to draw comparisons with more well known titles. I found myself thinking of various Superman or JLA stories regularly. The X-Men storyline, Onslaught, also dragged its ugly purple carcass in to my brain more than once as well. This can't really be helped, but I do genuinely think there is enough original material to actually make these comparisons enjoyable.

Some readers might find a few of the nuances are obstructive. Changes in artwork in Incorruptible did leave me wondering what the artist was trying to portray, when these thick inked lines turned up suddenly, only to disappear again next issue. I can only think that there was an attempt to balance the artwork of Irredeemable, but it didn't pay off for me personally. Some of the basic character's details in both comics were distracting for me, with little things like the names Max Damage, Qubit or Samsara being almost beyond cliché and into clumsy. I would like to think that when considering this book, these things are actually there to draw you in and tie you down with the familiar, but at times I really wasn't sure.

If I could only give one reason as to why you should read these graphic novels however, it would be this. I said at the start of this piece that 'What if?' is the staple diet of those who feast on comics. The real beauty of these books is that they allow a genuine 'What if?' experience without the hang-ups or the debates that go with trying this with a more familiar universe. This gives the story freedom, which in turn gives the reader excitement. If you want to read an exciting story, this is a bloody good one.

Chris Boyle is gearing up to be a man with a van!

Why Should I Read… Batman Knightfall?

I read the internet. I read the social phenomena that is meme. If you don't, I'll tell you this; Batman is all over the meme. Variations on how he is "The goddamn Batman" are rife. I recently saw a picture of the Justice League of America, with the caption "JLA? More like Batman and his bitches." This is widely accepted as correct, and that team includes Superman, various Green Lanterns and Wonder Woman.

I'm using this to get the point of this piece across; Batman is the best. Superman maybe the best known superhero of all time, but by and large he is known to be second best to Batman. Batman who is, may I remind you, a regular human being.

DC have afforded Batman liberties that they have not any other creation in their 77 years. May 1939, Detective Comics introduced us to Batman. At the time, DC was called National Allied Publications. Less than a year later, NAP became DC. In case you haven't checked or never even thought about it, DC stands for Detective Comics. To tie it all up, Batman is known as the world's greatest detective. Are you getting it yet? Not quite? OK.

Under the JLA title, every non-batlike member of the JLA was taken out by Ra's Al Ghul. A guy that Batman has successfully nullified on numerous occasions. How did the Demon's Head accomplish this? Well, he followed Batman's instructions on how to take the League members if they ever went rogue. Plans which logic would dictate he probably didn't execute as well as Batman would have, because yanno, he's not Batman. Are we there yet? Little more?

OK. I'm nothing if not thorough. The last book of the Dark Knight series. You can check the details for yourself, and debate the whys, hows, wherefores and details as much as you like. But there's a statement that I think should resonate with you that I can make because of this comic. Batman beat Superman in a fight. Sorry, were you not paying attention? Batman. Beat Superman. In a fight.

He's iconic. People who have never read a comic know who Batman is. In fact, people who've never read a comic, seen the TV series (animated or live action) or caught any one of the range of movies, even then still know who Batman is. To those who know him well, who've read his stories, the Batman is infallible. Batman is it. Batman could beat up Chuck Norris.

At this stage, you might think I've gone over board. But I can't make this a big enough deal. He is, after all, the goddamn Batman.

And then there's Bane. The man that broke the bat. I'm not particularly afraid of giving away spoilers here, the covers alone give away more than I will. But the preamble to this moment was to set up the fact that if you're in to your comics there are some things which you almost have a duty to read. A movie fan should watch certain movies. Can you take a movie aficionado's opinion seriously if he or she hasn't watched the Godfather or Citizen Kane? No. There are just some things that are momentous enough to warrant reading above anything else. The fall of the bat, well, that's an event that doesn't come around more than once a generation, if that.

Ultimately, there is a wonderful simplicity to Knightfall. The plot is not intricate, because the plan of the villain is not intricate. As is often true, the best strategy is often the simplest. Bane is also an uncomplicated villain. He's certainly not anywhere near the intricate nefariousness of the Joker, undoubtedly Batman's most famous villain. Yet he accomplishes what Joker never has, without the borderline inane idiosyncrasies that readers of the DC Universe are used to. There's none of the usual bells and whistles of trademark comic rivalries, because this story stands on the magnitude that true changes to the status quo are.

We are looking forward to the last cinematic installment of the Nolan Batman series. We saw Ra's Al Ghul, a character who was new to the masses but a key component in the life of both Bruce Wayne and Batman, who deserved his time in the mainstream. Then Nolan gave us the Joker, one of the most iconic trans-medium villains of all time. But when he wants to end, he turns to Bane. It's cliche to say you should read the book because of the movie or vice versa, and comparing the two from any franchise at times seems to be what keeps the internet ticking over. But if you are a reader of comic books, if you are true to our little world, then this is a moment of history you owe it to yourself to be familiar with. This is Knightfall, when the Batman was beaten.

Chris Boyle is no stranger to breaking people

Why Should I Read... The Ultimates?

I hate Captain America. There, I said it.

I'm a lifetime comic nut and I have watched all the classic good guys and bad guys waging war through the eons with each other. But there's no villain, no matter how disturbed or vile, in fact no other character that I detest more than Captain America. I have never been one to enjoy the mainstream, let alone embrace the American dream. The idea of this star spangled moron running around in spandex being everything that Americans should stand for - and bleating about how much better things were a few years back - is just so stomach-churningly irritating. Anyone who's encountered me on this subject knows that my staple response to this insipid super soldier is that he's a whining pussy liberal. He's a throwback to the Golden Age of comics, when villains were laughable and the realism that draws us in and allows us to believe the unbelievable was just plain absent.

This is why I was never big on the Avengers. I didn't really get behind a lot of the headline heroes from yesteryears. After a few years without comics, I returned to the stores and steered clear of both the big universes, and went for the kind of the things I have written about in previous articles. So when my erstwhile comic retailer suggested the Ultimates (One and Two) for reading on a business trip, it's safe to say I baulked at the idea. Then he flipped to the page where Captain America is smashing some guy's face until he died. Oh, and he cracked a terrible joke about the French while he did it.

So I bought Ultimates One and Two.

The Ultimate universe is based on a wonderful comic staple; what if? Where events and individuals are changed to show alternate outcomes. Ultimates is actually one of the best examples of this I've read. The changes they make aren't drastic. Some of them aren't even significant - Nick Fury can be a grizzled old black guy who smokes cigars and is missing an eye, or a grizzled old white guy who is missing an eye and smokes cigars. It doesn't make a whole heap of difference, unless you're a casting agent.

What is wonderful about the Ultimates is that a lot of the stark truth (no pun intended) of stories you may have already come to know is brought to the forefront. The veneer of the Golden Age of comics is stripped away, and the very harsh reality of everything that's only been hinted at for our group of heroes is shown, often in a very intense way. I don't know if you realise this, but on discovering your have abilities beyond the norm, the regular response is not "Right, I need a spandex suit and a lawyer, I'm about to go assault people!" even if a guy who looks suspiciously like Samuel L. Jackson tells you it's OK. If a person decides to do that, even in the Marvel Universe, they better have either a damn good reason, or a damn good therapist.

Ultimates takes this premise and runs riot with it, highlighting all the issues that before may have only been approached tongue-in-cheek, or passed over entirely. Subjects such as addiction, depression and spousal abuse are covered, and although not the central focus, they are covered well. These aren't new premises for the as-was Avengers, but it could put off those readers who are loyal to the original team. It shouldn't, nothing is being dishonoured here, just remoulded for a modern age.

There are touches to the action, too. The Hulk is my favourite example. Back in the day, our big green wrecking machine threw things and punched stuff, but ultimately left with a body count no worse than an original A-Team episode. But stop and think for a moment. If a scientific accident causes a man to become a monster with no rational thought and immense strength, do you really think that there won't be a casualty or two? Ultimates doesn't. It's this conceptualisation which epitomises the Ultimates for me. I feel like I'm being told the adult version of the history I've learned as a child. This lack of propaganda appeals to me, in a way that the Avengers never did.

These articles aren't meant to be a review. There is enough of those. I want to persuade you to pick up the books, and enjoy them in the same way I have. The Ultimates is damned good reading, especially if you're familiar with the 'regular' Marvel Universe. This is apparent with the new range of movies, as much of the story and character backgrounds are from Ultimates - including this universe's S.H.I.E.L.D. and it's most famous agents. So ultimately, it comes down to this; how can Samuel L. Jackson be wrong?

Chris Boyle will warn you away from Ultimates 3. Yuck. Jeph Loeb, get out!

Why Should I Read... Rachel Rising?

You remember when you first listened to your favourite band? That feeling that you had discovered something new and special, that was just yours? That was the feeling I genuinely got reading Rachel Rising. I didn't necessarily expect to write that, but it's true. Getting in on the ground level with something that's just beginning, but you already know will be great is a real treat, and one that this book gave me in spades. Thing is, you have to be brave to pick this book up.

Starting something new is often a little scary. That's not a new concept, fear of the unknown is a constant in general human life. To counter this fear, we are imbued with an insatiable curiosity. Terry Moore takes both these staples of humanity and uses them as the building blocks for the structure of this horror piece. ComicBuzz describe him as a "master storyteller", and I don't see anything to dispute that in this first piece of the Rachel Rising story.

The first eight pages of Rachel Rising contain no dialogue. This is itself is an immense accomplishment, because the introduction to the lead character couldn't be more gripping. The artwork used is simple and effective, stark lines and ink blocks with no shading forced my brain to fill in the intricacies and draw me in to the story. I turned the page, presented with the details of a basic human fear; death before you are prepared for it. Ultimately the staple for every horror and thriller book (or artistic horror effort of any kind), but in this instance it's so well-presented, it's border-line attractive. The artwork also meets the script in a wonderful companionship, in a way that I feel comes from the artist and writer being one in the same.

When the dialogue does begin, Moore does not force the issue. His words are just like the artwork in that they are clear and uncomplicated, easing you along. He's avoided complex or slick vocabulary in favour of honesty. He has avoided gimmicks in favour of clarity. He has avoided shock tactics, there's no strong language in favour of consistency. As a result, the story slid gently in to my brain making reading very easy. I know it's a horrendous cliché, but at times I genuinely wasn't sure whether I was turning the pages or the story was making me.

I don't want to mislead you, this is a horror book, and it does have the power to shock. The concepts are certainly not all original, but my particular turn-on for this book is that I have not seen this kind of presentation before. Fans of the big Whedon franchises will most likely gravitate to this book, for example. They should, because I like those kind of stories, and I like this book. Not because of the comparison, it certainly stands on it's own merits. I like it for it's uncompromising approach, that comes for the aforementioned writer/artist singularity. It's not often when you can feel that the originator of the story has poured his brain on to the pages which is the feeling I took away from my first read.

As with every book, Rachel Rising may not be for everyone. Horror books became fashionable again a few years ago, and like all good corporate driven industries, they've been squeezed until the zombie juice has run dry. Über violence has been played out for a good while too, and any die-hard reader of the genre is most-likely desensitised. These factors could steer a potential reader away from 'just another horror book'. But these are also the reasons I feel compelled to push you to pick up a copy of Rachel Rising. This is stuff that's been done before, but it's fresh.

Elvis did rock and roll, but I didn't love the music until I heard the likes of Kiss and AC/DC. To be fair, I wasn't there when those bands first put out an album, but I was able to get in on the Rachel Rising story right at the start. Ok, they may not be on the same level, but they both make me feel good. I think you might like reading Rachel Rising whilst listening to AC/DC...

Chris Boyle thinks that if you want blood, you got it.

Why Should I Read... Nemesis?

A conversation, poorly transcribed.

PL: So what are you going to cover next for "Why Should I Read...", Chris?

Chris: I wanted to do a really ambitious piece. I didn't want to do one book, but cover the entire work of one of the most famous and influential writers in comic book history, Alan Moore.

PL: Wow, that's a monster. How will you do it?

Chris: Well, I figured maybe I'd focus on his most well known works, those that have been optioned for movies. Try to make it accessible for people. Watchmen, V for Vendetta, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, maybe From Hell. How does that sound?

PL: Sounds good. Will look forward to it.

Later, at home, amidst mountains of graphic novels...

Nemesis: Hey Chris? Remember your plan? The Alan Moore plan?

Chris: Yes, Nemesis?

Nemesis: FUCK YOUR PLAN!

So that's Nemesis. A book created by Mark Millar and Steve McNiven, that feels like it could be a life in it's own right. Let's be clear; when Nemesis leapt out at me for this article, I was perusing some of the best graphic novels of all time. Yet somehow, it reached past those other books and yelled out to be talked about.

I am not giving away any more than the blurb on the back of the jacket if I tell you that the premise broached by Nemesis is essentially "What if Batman was a bad guy?". Now, if you are a comic book reader (I'm assuming you at least have a passing interest) stop and ponder that for a moment. All that intelligence, dedication, technology and resource pointed at you, wishing you harm. There's a host of reasons that Batman terrifies criminals. Nemesis allows you to feel their fear, to let you understand why a special kind of lunatic aimed right at you is a special kind of terrifying.

Millar does 'what if' writing wonderfully, and takes on a lot of old comic book staples to do it. All the trademark character profiles from the tired rinse and repeats of the laziest comic book storytelling are right there. Millar takes them all and makes them fresh again, with new dimensions and perspectives that border on genius in their simplicity. This might sound like a contradiction, and it is (sort of) because the new twists Millar puts on these characters are obvious, because they're realistic. So much so in fact, that the result becomes fantastic.

McNiven's art work puts a polished edge to the book, gives it the blockbuster movie feel that is so rightly deserves. It is slick and stylised, and acutely sharp. If a comic could be HD, this one certainly is. The storyline is designed to shock, even in this age of over-exposure and resultant desensitisation. The artwork is clean and honest in order to match up to this, without crossing the line in to unnecessary vulgarity. The fact that Millar and McNiven are no strangers to each other shows in their paralleled work, at a level only attained by true master craftsmen.

Then ultimately, there is Nemesis. A character who, as with many central characters in fictional writing today, is something of a vessel. Not quite empty enough to be unsatisfactory, but enough so that the reader finds it easy to transpose either their own self image or the image of another. Recently this technique has received a lot of criticism because when used unskilfully, it is lazy, and manipulative. Not so here, as the Nemesis character is openly and wonderfully written, that I find myself relishing the opportunity to place myself or others in his cowl.

Nemesis is a modern book. It would be easy for me to make comparisons to a lot of pop culture. Movies like Se7en and Saw (before the franchise became terrible!) sprang to mind while reading. There are the aforementioned Batman comparisons, which are alluded to in its self promotion. It may feel a little too polished for those seeking a gritty independent read. Some people could be put off by the über violence and constant swearing, because this is no golden age book. But I can't help but love this book, it feels so deliciously naughty.

Nemesis is your good looking, confident, over-the-top friend, who says hello by punching you in the balls, swears way too much and is a little too quick to get angry. He doesn't have a proper job but always has money, and no matter how much he offends the girl, he somehow still manages to get her in to bed. He's not a role model, he's not even 'basically a good guy', but by God, you'd hand over your left nut to be him... just for a day.

Chris Boyle is planning his route to the hospital.

Why Should I Read... The Walking Dead?

You aren't real. I know this because Robert Kirkman told me so. I trust Kirkman, he knows his stuff. He also came up with that über fashionable TV show called The Walking Dead, so he must be right. But if you aren't real, who the hell is reading this? To find out, read on!

Chances are that you've heard about the Walking Dead. Cool TV show, very glamourous, pretty people and a zombie apocalypse. Nothing to think about. But Robert Kirkman has been blowing minds with his gritty take on the end of the world ages before the fella from Teachers showed up. So why read it? Because it will make you doubt you are real, and not many comics can make a claim like that.

I struggled with whether or not to reveal your immateriality to you. After all, discovering you aren't real is something you should find out for yourself. When Robert Kirkman wrote The Walking Dead, he looked past the genre, the (and let's be honest) hundreds of zombie clichés and decided he'd disassemble society. He picked it up, held it up to the light, turned it back and forth and saw how fragile and worthless it was, like a empty whisky bottle. Then like a hobo trying to get his life together, he threw it on the ground and dashed it into a thousand pieces.

Kirkman creates characters you know. He reached deep in to the pot of stereotypes and took out the biggest, fattest, juiciest ones he could find. He used them like worms on a hook to bait his readers, they are access points straight to the heart of the story. But Kirkman knows how to use worms properly, so he sticks them at the bottom of a big bottle of zombie juice tequila. So you drink, like the hobo. You slurp down that tequila and it feels good. You know it well, green-grey hands grip you warmly, and you chew on the worm... but it doesn't taste like you thought. Because Kirkman tainted the whole brew with a dirty secret. The Walking Dead are the characters of his story. The policeman, the hillbilly, the little Asian boy, the angry black people? They are the Walking Dead - not the zombies.

The question is, what is a policeman without a society to police? What is a husband without a wife, or a father without children? What is an outlaw without a law to be outside of?

Well, thanks Kirkman. You got me addicted to your weird home brew. It's got me sat in an alley, out of my mind and drunkenly questioning everything. If you strip away everyone I know, everything I do, everything I interact with, what am I? Just as demanding in my drunken zombie thoughts is this; how the hell did a comic make me doubt my existence?

What a simple premise for a book. You are nothing without society, because we are a social animal. OK, Kirkman distilled his concoction with the usual zombie shtick. He threw in the shotguns, the gore, and for bite, a little sex and racism. Everything the fashionable geek needs on the label of his favourite tipple. But the message is clear, even through the beer goggles. You shouldn't be scoping out your plan for killing zombies in the event of a zombie apocalypse. You should be working out how to rescue a decent therapist, so you have a hope of hanging on to your sense of self.

The artwork has a certain simplistic honesty that compliments the brew like a little bowl of pretzels. The dialogue and narrative are much the same, not over-the-top, but with enough flavour to keep you going on to your next glass. The cheese and onion crisps of my laboured alcohol metaphor, if you will.

But then, I'm not worried if you're bored with the booze talk. I told you before, you aren't real. From reading The Walking Dead, I've learned that it is society that defines us, and we it. Without it, you might as well be my drunken hallucinations of the absinthe fairy or grenadine goblin.

So then, why should you read The Walking Dead? Because every book gives you another moment to look at an aspect of your life, assess it, and hopefully make it better. You can't say you can take that from many books, let alone a graphic novel. So I suggest you get a glass and pour yourself some. But then, what do I know? I'm just the alcoholic at the end of the bar.

Chris Boyle is preparing the impending apocalypse. No wait, impending childbirth. So easy to get the two confused...

Why Should I Read... Preacher?

"Why?"

As humans, it's the first thing we learn to ask. It's inherent, in our nature, in our very core of existence to ask, to want to know. The problem we have is what we do when we don't have an answer to hand.

Preacher takes you through one man's "why". Your guide is Garth Ennis, and to be honest with you, Garth is more than a little messed up. Reading Preacher is a little like asking a syphilitic Bulgarian whore to guide you through your home town. You'll think you know what you're going to see, but you sure as hell won't have looked at it this way before, and when you've finished you'll be itchy and smell funny.

You can read about Garth Ennis all over the place. He's regarded very highly in his field and he made his name on Preacher. I don't need to sell you this stuff. It's been done. But I can tell you why I love it.

Real life is a smorgasbord. An eclectic mix of happiness, anger, sadness and contentment. For most, life is lead by its relationships. Your family, your friends, your boss, your significant other - all the people who have direct influence over your life. The best stories, in this blogger's erstwhile opinion, are those which show you people. Ennis creates characters who are relatable. There's nothing unique about that, any good writer will do it. What Ennis does is show you people. People in their glory, people in their shame. He centres his story around a reverend. A reverend who fights, drinks, swears and has sex. All good reverends should, because that's life. The reverend can speak with the Voice of God, is hunted by saints, angels and the Vatican army, has a best friend who's a vampire and wants to punch God in the face. Well, that's not so much what people are about, but it's the hook for the meat to hang on.

That's Ennis' magic. Here's a story about heaven and hell, about vampires and secret Papal armies. Here's a story about people who shoot themselves in the face and don't die, but just end up looking like an arse. Here's a story about a man who has sex with a massive pile of meat shaped like a woman. Here's a story about a cowboy who takes over from the Angel of Death. Ennis serves all this up to his readers and we tuck in like a fat kid at second breakfast. You eat and you eat, because all the swearing, fighting and fucking sit on your meal like so much salt and pepper. It tastes good. Ennis cooks up depth, intrigue and history and heaps them on your plate while you're still savouring your favourite mouthfuls. When you are almost full, he brings you comic relief as a palette cleansing sorbet. It's not too saccharin, it fits and you know why it's there; because without it you'd vomit when you moved from your starter of drug addiction and child abuse to your main of religious fanaticism and the loss of family.

You finish eating. You wipe your mouth with your serviette and you walk away from the table, full from the banquet of fantasy reading. A few days later, when you look at yourself naked in the mirror, you have love handles. They're not made of vampires and rednecks like you thought they were. They are filled with the understanding of human condition.

Is my meal metaphor played out? Yeah, it probably is. Don't worry, I'll close out with the one I almost used and you'll be grateful for the food bit. My point is that Preacher has something to sate any appetite. It is made up of all the brutal ridiculousness of life. You can read Preacher and take away as little or as much as you like. Ennis has a multilayered story, that ebbs and flows as well as anything else I've ever read.

It's hard to read though. It's crude, cruel and filthy. Like life. Trouble with that is that the reader will have to want to confront life to read it. So if when you asked why for the first time, you couldn't cope with "I don't know yet." as an answer, Preacher isn't for you. The art work is visceral, gritty. Ennis's story blends with it beautifully, to create a purple-headed beast that takes "I don't know" and shoves it up your arse. You can scream all you want, but that's where it's headed. My advice would be relax and enjoy it, otherwise you might tear something.

Chris Boyle has more metaphors than you've had hot dinners.

Why Should I Read... Transmetropolitan?

Have you ever been drip fed an alternate reality? Chances are you've only found one or two authors who can give you a whole new world to be in. Warren Ellis can be added to that list. Actually, if you read all 10 volumes of Transmetropolitan, you will probably put Warren Ellis at the top of the list.

This isn't a review. Transmetropolitan, along with the rest of Ellis's work has been reviewed by better minds than mine (and worse, for that matter) and the information about the work is out there. So no, this is not a review. It is simply me sharing what I think are the reasons to read this wonderful story.

The world in which Transmetropolitan is set is pretty much our own. It's a little more advanced, and a little more extreme, but it's certainly on a par. One of the first things I noticed about the world created here is the superb idiosyncrasies that it holds up to a fish eye lens. It uses these to highlight the stupidity of humanity and wry humour is certainly the spotlight used to do it. In the futuristic world of Transmetropolitan, smoking has not been eradicated, despite it's lethal consequences; instead, each carton is sold with a blister pack of pills, preventative medicine for cancer, heart disease and emphysema. An idea that wraps our idiocy and potential up in one neat joke and drops it into the background, for you to take at your leisure.

The artwork of Transmetropolitan is, much like the story, chaotic, multi-faceted and fast paced. It allows you to take what you want from it, but always has more to offer. The panoramic streetscapes are my favourite pieces. They have the feel of a "Where's Wally?" masterpiece, if Wally was a lunatic with a penchant for whores, sci-fi, stimulants and violence. The more you look, the more offensive fun you see. Whilst artist Darick Robertson varies his style through the series, the feel is maintained and continues to fit the story in such a way that you don't have to think about it. You're not looking at the artist's rendition of the world, but the world itself. It's not always pretty, but it is honest, and painfully so.

The character work that Ellis presents is masterful. Every character is apparently one dimensional. A stereotype, representing an easily identifiable subsection of society. But every character has a depth, or a depravity to them. The politicians, criminals, journalists, and street kids all have a multilayered back story that's whispered to you, like a secret you deserve to hear. In doing this, Ellis illustrates the complex nature of people every time he introduces you to, or revisits a character. Holding up a mirror to everything around you, without pious, is a gift that Ellis gives without prejudice and it's one that everyone should take.

But most of all, if there is one reason above all others to read Transmetropolitan, there's a man. A man who is the best and worst of things. A man who is a juxtaposition of everything a self aware man is. A man burning with the rage of righteous indignation, the messiah of the observant. A man who can be summed up in three words:

Spider. Fucking. Jerusalem.

Now, everyone I've introduced to this book tells me that I love Transmetropolitan because I'm so like Spider. Whilst to me, that is a massive compliment, it's not true. Spider is much more of the man I wish I could be. The fact that he's a fictional character makes me all the more pathetic I'm sure, but make no mistake about it: Spider Jerusalem is a hero. He looks at what you look at, the things that you see as wrong, and he strikes them down, with witty and foul language, unrelenting savagery and complete lack of boundaries. All those social frustrations you have are taken on and sorted out, with extreme prejudice. For every time you wished you could assault the dregs of society for being the millstones around the necks of society, Spider does it for you. For every time you wish you could expose the short comings of our leaders to the masses, Spider does it for you. For every time you wish you could be a bastard, Spider is THE bastard.

Plus, the guy has a gun that makes people shit themselves.

So why should you read Transmetropolitan? It's a funny, sweary, dirty, satirical side swipe at the world. It just might wake your brain up enough to make a positive change. After all, you can't sleep forever, can you?

Guest blogger Chris Boyle is just getting warmed up...