Monster Fight!

DuelMonstersAccording to editor Christofer Nigro’s introduction, the inspiration for this 2019 short story collection goes all the way back to 1965. That was the year Creepy #7 appeared on newsstands.

Nigro wasn’t around back then. But years later—as a kid obsessed with Warren comic mags (Creepy, Eerie and Vampirella)—he became aware of that particularly iconic issue. With its striking Frank Frazetta cover painting (see it here) and an interior story featuring a fight between a werewolf, a vampire and a ghoul, Creepy #7 hooked Nigro on the idea of dueling monsters.

As such, Duel of the Monsters, Vol. 1, is both a tribute and an homage to that memorable comic. Fifty-plus years later, the concept of monsters fighting monsters is still pretty cool. Who wins in a fight between Abbott and Costello and the Invisible Man? The 50-foot Woman and the Amazing Colossal Man? The Phantom of the Opera and the Phantom of the Paradise? Electric Frankenstein and Dr. Funkenstein? These are questions that all monster fans have pondered at one time or another.

Nigro’s anthology is a straightforward and bountiful collection featuring werewolves, vampires, zombies, ghosts, space aliens, serial killers, clowns, sea creatures, mythological beasts, dragons, cryptids and urban legends. They’re all here and they’re all ready to rumble.

The concept is strong, the stories are fun and the enthusiasm of the authors is real. Unfortunately, the execution is weak. Many of the writers come from the small press (or indie) community and their grasp of craft is clumsy and immature. Even a professional author such as Matthew Dennion stumbles with a wisp of an effort. Ultimately, Duel of the Monsters, Vol. 1, rises and falls depending on the reader’s forgiving nature.

But I want to keep things positive. The anthology is not without some merit. In particular I liked the slow burn of “House of Secrets” by Robert Galvin. “Gashadokuro Battles the Kee-wakw” by Zach Cole is a nice nod to Japanese mythology. And I really enjoyed Breyden Halverson’s kaiju-like story “Wrath of the Okanagan Lake God.”

I gather from the Nigro’s introduction that he plans to turn Duel of the Monsters into an on-going series. Even though Vol. 1 is deeply flawed; I look forward to follow-up editions. I would encourage Nigro to exercise more editorial control in the future, however. The monsters are counting on him.

[Duel of the Monsters, Vol. 1 / Edited by Christofer Nigro / First Printing: November 2019 / ISBN: 9781732365773]

Toxic Shock

AftershockAftershock starts on the day Los Angeles is smacked by the biggest earthquake in recorded history. The initial tremor began “like a deeply released, contented sigh from a lover in warm slumber,” and quickly escalates to a 9.4 on the Richter magnitude scale.

After a few shaky moments, the earth moved 12 inches. Property damage was estimated to be more than 100 billion dollars and 75,000 people were now dead. Said author Robert W. Walker: “L.A. was like a fallen Humpty-Dumpty.” All the king’s men couldn’t put the City of Angels back together again.

To make matters worse, a team of scientists were sequestered in an underground L.A. laboratory at the time of the quake. Working on a super secret virus, their mission was to create a truly terrible weapon to add to the country’s chemical-biological arsenal.

When a 40-story building collapsed on the subterranean research facility, the experimental CBW was released prematurely into the environment. Feeding on the dead and taking control of first responders, the virus arose Phoenix-like to terrorize local citizens.

The virus, a recombinant DNA version of a rare New Guinea cannibalism disease, transformed its host into a hungry and vengeful monster (see the book’s cover illustration for a surprisingly accurate rendition). “Its limbs were large, thick branches, covered with layers of rotted, scorched and scaly skin. They moved fluidly as if bone had become latex. The head and eyes, a mass of lumpy flesh, carried two bulging, twisted orbs. The large nostrils formed a snout, recklessly pushed to one side. The torso was that of a hunchback. Skin was the color and consistency of creosote, found inside a well-used chimney. Claws dragged along the ground, too heavy for the weak frame. But they were tough, hard and metallic.”

The monster wasn’t just a heap of “rotted skin and lumpy flesh,” however. After munching on brains and offal all day, it carried the weight of existential grief on its shoulders. Like all living things, it had a primordial urge to reproduce. “The creature pondered this grim thought until it ached,” said the author.

But don’t shed a tear for the “Brain Snatcher.” By the end of the novel it was leaving a messy trail of headless corpses all over L.A. County. One way or another, the virus and the host had to be eradicated.

The creature was ultimately vanquished in a showdown at Dodger Stadium. “You’re no demon!” said Dr. Michael McCain. “You’re just a twisted lump of flesh, a life form that was never meant to be! I’m going to send you straight to hell!”

The Brain Snatcher paused, trying to interpret the words of the man standing before it. After a brief moment of reflection, its indecipherable screech of pain could be heard from the Santa Monica Pier to the hills of the San Fernando Valley. “Awaataa! Awaataa! Awaataaaaa!!”

[Aftershock / By Robert W. Walker / First Printing: November 1987 / ISBN: 9780312909062]

Cat Nipped

batmancatwomanAt night, Gotham City belongs to Batman. But it doesn’t belong to him alone. Somewhere in the shadows lurks a stray cat yowling in fury and endless desire.

That yowling cat is Catwoman and she is an iconic and wonderful creation. As a supporting character, she compliments Batman perfectly (“The flip side to the same coin,” writes Paul Kupperberg). Yet, when given the opportunity, she can also step into the spotlight on her own terms.

The Catwoman/Batman dynamic is unique in the world of superhero comic books. Selina Kyle is a thief and an outlaw, and when she slips into her catsuit she’s the most dangerous of all urban predators. More than anyone else in the Bat’s rogues’ gallery, Catwoman makes Batman more human, and thus more interesting. Things get complicated on so many levels when these two creatures of the night bump into each other. It’s too bad this chunky collection of short stories doesn’t fulfill its war-of-the-sexes potential.

There’s some adventure and frisky fun here, but the assembled authors never seem to get a firm handle on the dynamic duo. In one story, for example, Batman foils Catwoman’s string of thievery with uncanny regularity. “You’re predictable,” he tells her at the scene of each crime. Yet in a follow-up story, Catwoman has no problem outwitting Batman at every turn. “Cats aren’t predictable,” he laments. Well, which is it? Is Selina Kyle trapped by her well-known cat obsession, or is she forever inscrutable?

And Batman doesn’t fare much better. The guy’s been around for 80 years and writers are still trying to figure him out. In some of these stories he’s the master detective, in others, he’s the Dark Knight, and in a few he’s Adam West. One writer even tries to compare him to saxophonist Archie Shepp. The comparison doesn’t stick, however. Batman may dispense justice like a raging Shepp solo, but he’s too white and privileged to carry the weight of the jazzman’s Afrocentric black power politics.

Together or apart, Batman and Catwoman have proven to be a resilient and multi-faceted pair. Looking back, I actually have a tremendous fondness for some of the various interpretations, reboots and costume changes each character has suffered throughout the years. But in this case, I blame the editor and his lack of editorial guidance for the book’s haphazardness. And what’s more, I can’t help but feel an opportunity has been missed. Catwoman is a character who has found success in comic books, TV shows, movies and Halloween parties. But in prose she’s been totally disappointing. Someday someone will get it right. I hope.

[The Further Adventures of Batman, Vol. 3: Featuring Catwoman / Edited by Martin H. Greenberg / First Printing: March 1993 / ISBN: 9780553560695]

Yes, Virginia, There is a Frankenstein Monster

SlaveFrankensteinThe Slave of Frankenstein takes place two years before the start of the U.S. Civil War. It’s 1859 and the focus of the entire nation is concentrated on Harpers Ferry and the forthcoming hanging of abolitionist John Brown. “Our universe is suspended somewhere between Heaven and Hell,” says a concerned patriot.

Not by coincidence, Frankenstein’s monster is lurking in the nearby Virginia woods. Along with a sizable band of renegades and ruffians, he’s got a mad plan to rescue old man Brown, kidnap Victor Frankenstein and ultimately end slavery.

That’s right. Author Robert J. Myers has reinvented Mary Shelley’s infamous monster as an American freedom-fighting abolitionist. If the monster’s plan is successful, says Myers, he might be able to stop the Civil War, keep the Union safe and become a political powerbroker in Virginia.

It’s too bad that Frankenstein’s creation is 200 percent batshit crazy. His proposed solution to America’s slavery problem is to create an entire race of zombie-like creatures using Baron von Frankenstein’s book of animation as an instruction manual. These walking corpses would be a new kind of slave, says Myers, both Constitutionally compliant and absent of free will.

Frankenstein, Jr., is not interested in playing god, however. Unlike his father, he doesn’t want anything to do with making monsters. “I have sworn never to tempt God by allaying myself with such an unholy enterprise,” he tells the beast in a pique. “I will do no such experimentation. We both know the foul results of competing with the natural laws. Cease your unholy designs and sink back into the bog of your origin!”

The monster cannot abide by young Frankenstein’s holier-than-thou rebuke. After 41 years, he still holds a grudge against Baron von Frankenstein for the sin of creating him as a foul and ugly fiend and taking no responsibility for his brutish outcast life. If he can’t broker a zombie-slave revolution, he has no choice but to pursue and destroy his creator’s progeny. “I will settle our score either by your demise or by your involuntary servitude,” he says. “My fortune must rise as yours sink. Otherwise, there is no justice under Heaven.”

After a narrative filled with Civil War-Era politics (including a seven-page pro-slavery screed), sexual trysts (consensual and otherwise) and surprising cameos from John Wilkes Booth and George Washington’s great-grandnephew, the monster’s grand schemes are smashed to smithereens. Despite his machinations, he can’t overcome the brutal truth of his gloomy existence: A creature of Frankenstein will always remain a creature of Frankenstein and a slave of one era must remain a slave in the next. His fate was sealed the moment he opened his eyes on Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory slab.

[The Slave of Frankenstein / By Robert J. Myers / First Printing: August 1977 / ISBN: 9780722162989]

To Conserve and Protect

ClawsBack in 1961, President John F. Kennedy pulled the plug on a proposal to invade Cuba with a cast of giant crabs. It was Eisenhower’s crazy idea and JFK hated it. The newly elected president didn’t want anything to do with his predecessor’s cockamamie science fiction plan.

Kennedy wisely put the kibosh on a Cuban crab invasion. But what happened after that? Did the giant, bulletproof mutant monsters just disappear?

Nope. The genetically engineered super crabs were still hanging around. Dishonorably discharged from the CIA, they found a home near Fort Jefferson Dry Tortugas National Park.

Located 70 miles off the coast of Miami, Fort Jefferson was an abandoned pre-Civil War outpost. Even though it was officially part of the National Park Service, it was mostly uninhabitable—no Starbucks, no Netflix, no comic book stores, no nothing. “It was probably the quietest park in the whole system,” said Kathy West, the on-site park ranger. “Nothing out of the ordinary ever happened out here.”

Obviously Ranger West was unaware of the danger surrounding Fort Jefferson. The waters off the coast were clear and calm, marked only by a spiky coral reef. West had no idea what was going on because the crabs were busy doing nothing for over 50 years.

That all changed in a flash when a rogue Homeland Security agent shows up in tow with his crew of black ops musclemen. Their evil plan was to resurrect Eisenhower’s abandoned crab invasion (but with a dastardly twist).

Now it was up to West, an eccentric 80-year-old Navy veteran, a soggy torpedo and a self-described “history nerd” to stop an onslaught of giant crabs upon Miami Beach. “The odds weren’t good,” wrote the author.

Claws was more than a giant crab novel, however. Author Russell James had something else in mind the entire time. As it turned out, the crabs were just the “MacGuffin,” a literary device that fueled the plot. James was more interested in writing a lively mash-up of Men in Black, Challengers of the Unknown and (maybe) the Suicide Squad.

In the last chapter, Kathy West and her sidekick Nathan Toland were conscripted into a secret government assignment. In the future, wherever and whenever monsters attacked, they would be the first responders. It would be their job to keep the public safe from the creatures that haunted national parks, preserves, sanctuaries, archeological sites and historic structures. Their mission: to conserve and protect.

[Claws / By Russell James / First Printing: May 2019 / ISBN: 9781925840759]

Don’t Call It a Throwback

ThrowbacksRoger Sarac never explicitly gives a name to the shaggy humanoid beast at the heart of his novel. “It’s like a bear, and yet it ain’t,” he writes. “It’s sort of manlike, yet it ain’t. It’s just a thing without a proper name.”

Stories of apelike and bearlike creatures living in the Pacific Northwest have been popular for a long time. Readers may automatically assume the author is writing about Bigfoot or Sasquatch or something else born of “Indian and aboriginal stock.”

Sarac’s beast is something similar yet something altogether different. She exists as a link to both the past and the future—a baby beget by modern parents cursed with cellular structure culled from mankind’s forgotten stages of evolution.

To put it another way, it’s like a woman who wakes up in the morning to discover the world has slipped backward a million years. Or, perhaps, it’s like she’s been shot ahead into the future thousands of generations.

Forward or backward, says the author, it doesn’t matter. The timeslip is traumatic. “What is intended for thousands of people to experience gradually, comes all at once to one individual.”

The half-animal-half-human wretch is a repository of ancient human experience. She’s more advanced than most wild animals, but witless nonetheless. That’s her tragedy, says Sarac. Her intelligence and scale of awareness didn’t belong to any specific time period.

As a result, the she-beast is (mostly) sympathetic. She hunts and kills innocent people, but you understand her savage nature. Like all monsters, she’s trapped in a world she didn’t make.

The prehistoric throwback in Sarac’s novel is a genetic anomaly that provides a peek at the secret of life. She has no name, but she represents a serious threat to the future of mankind. According to the author, there’s a subhuman monster lurking in all of us—it’s just one gestation period away from being born.

[The Throwbacks / By Roger Sarac / First Printing: 1965]

Red Hot and Green

SheHulkDiariesIn my opinion, She-Hulk is the best superhero name Stan Lee ever thought up. The hyphenated personal pronoun succeeds at being funny and dumb and smart and provocative all at the same time. She-Hulk could easily be a monster from a 1950s movie or the topic of a women’s studies class. Take your pick.

She-Hulk is a six-foot-seven, 680-pound jade-green party animal. And as her name implies, she’s hell on wheels and an indefatigable physical presence. But in Marta Acosta’s novel from 2013 she isn’t nearly as interesting as her host, Jennifer Walters, a woman who is described as a beautiful disaster—all luminous eyes and existential grief. Walters is, according to her spunky best friend, “a perplexing blend of kick-ass chick and honor-roll nerd.” The She-Hulk Diaries could easily have been called The Jennifer Walters Diaries instead.

But no worries; Even with “She-Hulk” in the title, Walters establishes herself as the real hero of the book. Her quest to find a good job, secure an affordable apartment in Manhattan and hook up with an awesome boyfriend represents her version of a hero’s journey.

Naturally, there are plenty of obstacles in Walters’ way. She must grapple with duplicitous coworkers, limited rental options and an ex-lover who insists on writing embarrassing songs about their weekend tryst (sample lyric: “I’ll crawl from the primordial sludge for you. I’ll give up my gills and prehensile appendage for you”). Dr. Doom even shows up to make things more complicated. It’s sort of like Sex and the City (or maybe Breakfast at Tiffany’s) with a little superhero action on the side. There’s a lot of navel-gazing in The She-Hulk Diaries, but it’s mostly well written and relentlessly jokey. Added bonus for those who care: the sex talk is surprisingly frank.

With all the real world drama surrounding Walters, there’s not much for She-Hulk to do. We are told that “Shulky” is a righteous superbabe and a sex object for millions of teenage boys, but the author keeps her on the sidelines most of the time.

Regardless of her costarring status, She-Hulk succeeds in retaining her brutish charm wherever she goes. She is, I admit, pretty good with the zippy one-liners. “I’d rather be tasty than tasteful,” she brags at one point. And later, when her boobs pop out of her outfit, she says, “It pays to advertise!”

Even when she’s serious (which is not very often), She-Hulk is able to express herself with surprising aplomb. For example, every time she visits the Avengers Mansion she feels the sting of sexism (especially from ex-boyfriend Tony Stark). She may be red hot and green, but she’s not happy about being marginalized because of her sex. “Male is not the default gender for superhero,” she huffs. The Sensational She-Hulk deserves a little more respect.

[The She-Hulk Diaries / By Marta Acosta / First Printing: June 2013 / ISBN: 9781401311018]