DCC The Graphic Novel, Vol. 2

Dungeon Crawler Carl: The Graphic Novel, Vol. 2
by Matt Dinniman, Tevagah, Kuzomari, et al
Recommended Ages: 15+

This graphic novel, based on Dinniman's Dungeon Crawler Carl, is based on chaptes 14-30 of the webtoon series, following Vol. 1 (reviewed here). So, of course, I snagged a copy of it as soon as it materialized at the place where I'm always looking out for the latest paperbacks – Walmart. Again, there is a whole string of author-type credits on the cover, but I take Laurel Pursuit and Aethon to be a publisher and a webtoon studio. Dinniman created the source material; Tevagah and Kuzomari (a.k.a. Chistopher Krady) seem to be the actual, human manga artists. Correct me if I'm wrong.

If you've read the original novel, you hardly need another synopsis at this point, other than that this installment picks up just as Carl and Princess Donut blow up the goblin borough boss on Level 1 of the world dungeon. If you're joining late, he's a tragically shoeless and pantsless man and she's his ex-girlfriend's prize-winning cat. They recently survived the arrival of the aliens to destroy earth, only to become live combatants in an intergalactic game show where the survival is a cutthroat business tied, in part, to your popularity on social media. And now they start to meet other survivors, including a pair of "naughty" crawlers who have killed other people (not counting the "mobs," with whom it's strictly kill or be killed). Later, they join forces with a party of nursing home residents and staff who somehow survived the collapse, and are just hanging on. But to get to Level 2 before the whole floor pancakes down on top of them, they have to get past a floor boss that has already killed a bunch of people. So, I guess this is about the middle third of the original novel, culminating as our heroes are about to enter Floor 2 and get yanked out of the dungeon for a quick interview on a highly rated talk show.

The graphic novel translates the gripping middle part of the original book into vivid imagery, dramatizing the characters and laying some stress on the theme of Carl's resolve not to let the game break him. It's nice to see more human characters enter the frame. And I appreciate the fact that, compared to the first volume, I didn't have to strain my eyes as much to read the in-game notifications that present themselves to Carl and Donut. I do, however, have a new bone to pick with this adaptation – I was sometimes confused about the sequence of events. Callbacks to previous scenes, and visualizations of future and hypothetical events as well as scenes happening elsewhere, get mixed together in a way that more than once left me scratching my head and going back a page or so, to straighten it all out in my mind. Maybe it's me. Maybe I just haven't spent enough time with my nose in a graphic novel, conditioning myself to read them effectively. But while I like Carl and Co. as depicted by these manga artists, I think the vanilla novel just worked for me.

At any rate, it's a fast-paced read. Maybe to a fault. You get through what's left of Floor 1 in no time and sigh, wondering how long it'll be until Vol. 3 appears on the discount bookshelf. Meanwhile, there are a bunch more installments in Dinniman's series that have yet to fall into my lap. I've only personally seen a hardcover of the third book, The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook, and it's been a while since I've seen that in stock. So, maybe a paperback issue will be landing soon. I'm currently seeing hints that at least 10 books may be in store for fans of this series, with the eighth just released this year. If the paperbacks don't hurry up, I'm going to have to look for them in the library. I won't let them break me!

The Eye of Zoltar

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

The Eye of Zoltar
by Jasper Fforde
Recommended Ages: 12+

We've met Jennifer Strange before. In previous adventures, she has risen from a mere orphan sold into indentured servitude to acting manager of Kazam, a house of enchantment in the bizarre Kingdom of Snodd (roughly Herefordshire, in the UnUnited Kingdoms). Then, in quick succession, to the title of dragonslayer (later ambassador to the dragons), then Royal Mystician, and now ... well, we'll see what she becomes as this book unfolds.

Fiercely protective of her wizards' independence, though she has no magical abilities herself, Jennifer accepts a challenge from the Mighty Shandar, a powerful and all-but-immortal wizard who threatens to exterminate the last remaining dragons. She is to find a legendary, goose egg-sized gem called (surprise!) the Eye of Zoltar. Problem 1: It's legendary because it's not very likely to exist. Problem 2: If it does exist, it seems the one wizard who knows where it is lives in a neighboring empire (a seriously dystopian version of Wales) that is known for, among other things, "jeopardy tourism" – where people pay to risk being eaten by wild animals and/or cannibals with a funny thing about taxidermy – and, for another example, kidnapping people and holding them for ransom. Problem 3: The likeliest location of the legendary gem seems to be the lair of an even more legendary sky pirate, in the most-legendary-of-all secret burial ground of flying leviathans. Those are probably more than three problems, to be honest. But even bigger ones will face Jennifer and her traveling companions, problems they won't know about until they're in the thick of them.

Those companions include a spoiled princess who has been body-swapped with a starveling maidservant, a recently licensed wizard who has been trying to take Jennifer out on a date, a 12-year-old guide who has seen more than anyone her age should, and several other more or less unwelcome additions to their party. They set out, knowing (thanks to a type of premonition that tends to be statistically accurate) that 50 percent of them won't make it back. And after they pass a certain point in their trip, the statistics in favor of survival go down to zero. I won't sugarcoat it. Several of these characters come to gruesome ends.

The rest of it I wouldn't spoil for all the world, except to hint that the more you know about the Mighty Shandar, the less you like him. Along the way, Jennifer and Co. encounter strange beings, deadly creatures, terrifying magics and awesome scenery. There's a "leap of faith" bit that'll give you the heebie jeebies, whether you've seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade or not. There's a city that seems to exist for the sole reason that two railroad companies are fighting an actual war to be the first to reach it. There is a subversive thread of economics running through the book, which seems for a while to give the princess something to be hilariously good at but that turns rather dark later on. And finally, the ending has the kind of rushed grimness that cries out for a fourth installment.

Coming on the heels of The Last Dragonslayer and The Song of the Quarkbeast, this is the third book in the ... well, depending on where your edition was published, it's either "The Chronicles of Kazam" or the "Last Dragonslayer" novels. How to shelve it is only one of several textual problems for this book. Apparently it had more than one working title prior to publication, including Strange and the Wizard (so Google's AI tells me) and, according to a footnote referencing it in the second installment, The Return of Shandar. Then there's the fact that this episode comes to a cliffhanger ending and it took Fforde seven years to pen the fourth and concluding installment, The Great Troll War. At least we're on the other side of that long interval, which seems to be a theme for fans of Fforde's fiction; there were even longer waits before the latest installment of the "Thursday Next" series (14 years!) and the sequel to Shades of Grey (15 years!), a pause during which this book and The Constant Rabbit of a year prior were the only new titles he put out. I hope Fforde's recent rush of productivity continues!

613. Ecce nunc benedicite

A paraphrase of Psalm 134, the last of the Songs of Ascents or pilgrimage hymns (Pss. 120-134) and thus, the end of this series of hymns. Hear my sigh of relief! It's a quicky: a tiny little psalm, and for once I wasn't up to the challenge of out-economizing it. In fact, I had to repeat a bit from the beginning at the end to make it work. And again, I'm not turning up an existing tune to fit this text, so I did have to write one, below. ART: A Swedish priest giving the Aaronic benediction, photograph dedicated to the public domain.

Behold, bless ye the Lord,
Ye servants of the Lord,
Who vigil stand
With prayerful hand
Uplifted all night toward
The altar of the Lord.

The Lord is He who made
The heav'ns, in light arrayed,
And made earth, too:
May He bless you
From Zion. Bless the Lord,
Ye servants of the Lord!

612. Ecce quam bonum

A paraphrase of Psalm 133, a Song of Ascents or pilgrimage hymn by David. I'm a bit reluctant to write it, since I'm inordinately pleased with a musical setting of this psalm that I wrote some years ago. But a paraphrase it wasn't, so here goes. I am acquainted with only two tunes that would fit this text: Henry Jenner's mediocre QUAM DILECTA (cf. Service Book & Hymnal, "We love the place, O God", etc.) or the just slightly less unremarkable ST. CECILIA by Leighton G. Hayne, †1883 (CF. SBH, "Thy kingdom come, O God"). I'd rather go for the Hayne (below) than write another original tune. ART: Moses anointing Aaron, from the Medhurst Picture Torah, 1835.

O brethren, it is well
And pleasing to behold
For us as one to dwell,
Like oil most dearly sold—

Yea, oil most dearly sold
That, poured on Aaron's head,
Onto his garment's fold
And o'er his whiskers sped—

As Hermon's, Zion's dew
The mountainsides descend.
The Lord His word will do—
The blessing without end.

611. Memento, Domine

A paraphrase of Psalm 132, a Song of Ascents or pilgrimage hymn. It's the biggest one in the group (Pss. 120-134). Compared to other paraphrases in this set, I took more liberties with this one, stretching here and compressing there, and rearranging the thoughts in a more explicitly Christocentric manner. Tune: MAGDALEN by John Stainer, 1875 ("My hope is built on nothing less"). ART: David prepares to build God's house, an illustration of 1 Chronicles 22 from the Providence Lithograph Company, 1896, public domain.

Remember Lord, when David swore
That he would build Your house before
His own: and in return, his Son,
You vowed, would sit upon his throne.
From Bethlehem the tidings flew,
Wherefore we come to worship You.

Let us to Christ now go with haste,
The offered Victim touch and taste,
In flesh as our eternal Lord
To dwell with us has not abhorred.
His weakness now our ark of strength,
Let Israel shout for joy at length!

O Christ! We fall before Your feet,
Enthroned upon the mercy-seat.
Robe us in Your own righteousness,
Nor hide from us Your holy face.
As You once tabernacled here,
Encamp with us, our Savior dear!

Bless Zion, Lord, with holy food;
Provision her with all things good.
Let priests, in Your salvation clad,
And all Your saints shout and be glad.
Oh, lamps be lit! Oh, trumpet sound!
The Lord's Anointed One is crowned!

610. Domine, non est exaltum

A paraphrase of Psalm 131, a Song of Ascents or pilgrimage hymn by David. I struggled to make this hymn fit a tune in a different meter, but it was having none of it. Then I turned a page in my hymnal to BOYLSTON by Lowell Mason, 1832 ("Blest be the tie that binds"), and the words started to come. In a trickle, to be sure, but with so brief a psalm, it was enough. ART: An illustration by Jessie Willcox Smith, 1920, from "The Princess and the Goblin" by George MacDonald, public domain.

My heart, Lord, is not proud,
Nor are mine eyes grown vain;
My thoughts, by weighty things unbowed,
From mysteries abstain.

O soul, be calm and still
As child at mother's breast!
Upon the Lord, O Israel,
Your hope forever rest!

609. De profundis

A paraphrase of Psalm 130, a Song of Ascents or pilgrimage hymn. I approach this psalm with fear and trembling, since I don't expect my setting to hold a candle to Martin Luther's Aus tiefer Not. And I'm definitely not so arrogant that I'd choose the same tune. So, instead, here it is, arranged to fit the tune TENBURY by Frederick A.G. Ouseley, 1861 ("It is not death to die," etc.). ART: The oubliettes of Fort-la-Latte, Brittany, France, photographed by Pierre André Leclercq, 2017. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.

My whimper from the pit
I beg You, Lord, to hear.
To the petition I submit,
Incline a gracious ear.

Should You take note of sin,
Lord, who had dared appear?
But You forgive: the grounds wherein
I cry to You in fear.

I wait on You; my hope
Is in Your faithful word.
As eastward eyes for morning grope,
My soul waits for the Lord.

Hope, Israel, in the Lord!
For mercy dwells with Him,
Who bounteous goodness will afford
And Israel redeem.