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posts Lucca: Lucca

Nothing to say about the drawings, beautiful and sometimes very beautiful, black and white all the possible variations of the color of blood. E 'for the visual aspect that I approached this volume , as well as the hope that there was something more, of course. Zombie talking for decades and expect a different approach to the genre, if only because you get tired to say or hear the same things.
But nothing seems the only peculiarity that the contagion, this time, start by age. For the rest there is the usual group of players, usually holed up in a safe place so that then certainly not the usual systematic slaughter of the few remaining healthy, the usual final escape without any hope (and promise of a below).
In addition, an attitude towards the monsters that I found absolutely inconsistent: I understand that the protagonist has always said that someday the world would be flooded with the living dead, but see it as immediately active, aggressive and above all so numb (she like all his fellow ) at the thought of the fate of all the relatives or friends "out there" seemed a little too much ( for one thing: the face of heart of gold that should have according to the introduction ). It 's true, are boys, but think that, in a house surrounded by beings who want to eat you alive, one of them can say " hey, let's party tonight " I think at least a chance narrative.
Well, here they are, the two little words fatal: opera " gender " for fans of the genre. Amen.
who is not interested in the plot and wants a healthy splatter of bloody accurate in each detail, may have found food for his teeth here who died there "bonus" with parts of their bodies chewed by assassins, or pieces of arms and legs brought away as trophies.
Final notes: here some info / design Ross Campbell. For reviews on the work: here, here and here.

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the abandoned posts: Three shadows

Cyril Pedrosa drawn as if they were told to imitate Silvia Ziche Craig Thompson. Effects are often very convincing, primarily in the daytime scenes. The world around is a land of fairy round trees, hills, meadows, houses that distort to follow the gaze of the narrator, wiry and women who seem Omoni large rocks on which the wind and the tragedies that can not dashed. But everything changes. Come the three shadows. The atmosphere is full of omens, the player will fly over the pages, wondering what to bring and what the three hooded knights adventure (as well as dark fate ) awaits the protagonist.

Then here it is: the escape. With the start of the race against the inevitable story seemed to me to sit, normalize, trivialize. The harbinger of wonderful things lurking dissolves into a long sea voyage without destination, the three mysterious riders show up for what was expected of principle, without surprises, too obvious a metaphor that does not know how to reserve the least surprise. It designs, having to describe the anguish and the dark night of the escape, they become at times ( intentionally, of course, but ) too confused.

The final strand of the secondary with the thief of souls seemed superfluous, because it is a derivation in a hitherto monolithic story, focusing on parent-child pair ( if the story had actually been picaresque, as among other things a little rashly promises to cover the ribs, then yes, there would be room for derivations and figures outline ) .

"Three Shadows" is a graphic novel discreet, that you read, but that does not differ from a final average, easily forgettable. Obviously this is my personal opinion: here you can find a completely different opinion. And, by the way (but then not so ), the book has been awarded 2008 edition Angouleme festival ( to be precise, is among the " essentiels " ).

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park


She walks slowly, despite the cold. Usually the park is very crowded during the summer: there are students lying on the blankets into large squares that are studying under the shade of a tree, or children chasing each other under the watchful eyes of the mothers or grandmothers. But in this period is very little known. Only a few shivering and passing through the heat to reach the home after a day's work, almost running, with the expression of tight fists when fighting against the enemy in Winter.
But she did not. He walks slowly, his hands in his pockets and looked down. From where I am I can not see well in the face, should turn slightly to the left, but I know perfectly well that it will not. Deep in thought kicking the leaves, as if she were dancing aimlessly. I can see a white wire coming out of his pocket right: headphones disappear under the woolen cap.
I try to imagine what kind of music is listening, I am reminded of an old ballad which I doubt, however, she may know. I keep looking at it from the point where I am, I know perfectly well that you do not notice me, despite everything. After a few minutes
spins, a couple of seconds remaining balance on only one of the blacks boots that wrap around your legs is close to a bench in front of me, and sits down. Look in
my direction. A shiver runs through my back, while his eyes merge with mine. It may not have seen me, I'm sure, but a slight smile on his face is drawn, as if digging with his own eyes in my heart.
But it's just a moment. Shortly after, in fact looking back on the pavement covered with branches and leaves, as if trying to make sense of the inconsistency that lies ahead.
A drop of sweat to my brow line, I know that feeling.
He tells me that she is, but I do not want to believe him. I look away, looking for someone else. Any. In the bottom of the driveway is an old man in the company of a large dog. Probably to escape the constant screams of his wife, led the animal to walk a little 'face the cold. I look at him well, for my part would be perfect.
No, the old man does not go well, I tells him. Damn.
I'll be back to look at the girl. I know how it will end, and the pain takes hold of me.
She is beautiful. Sitting on the bench, he lit a cigarette, which holds between his fingers made insensitive to frost. Her lips. His lips immediately known. They are perfect, soft, warm despite the cold edge. A kiss just do not know what I'd give for a simple kiss.

not look at me, please, is your only hope.

I have teary eyes when I see you blowing a slight cloud of smoke, looks up and crosses for the second time my. "Now, I order him.
A matter of a few moments. The finger on the trigger slides fast, the blow is cushioned from the piece of cloth wrapped around the barrel.
From here I can not hear if she makes a sound or not: I see the stagger for a second, eyes turned to the sky, a sky growing dark and cold, while the blow which has pierced the heart takes hold of his life .
Two hundred and twenty feet away, my new record. But it is a first love.
I stand by what I had been lying in hiding for several hours, I shook off the earth and rotting leaves. Hide the gun in her purse, and I start with a fast pace to the bus stop.
A child and a grandmother come to meet me: they go too fast, trying not to attract attention. But it is impossible.
"Grandma, why that man crying?" asks the child, turning to face me.

The bus arrives, I go and sit down. I lean my head to the misted glass, looking for the last time the park surrounded by a thin mist.
"You have to be proud of, with this five," he tells me, in my head.
dry your tears, with a movement of the hand. I fall asleep, but not before he had fantasized about that kiss, that kiss I'll never have stolen.