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Jinxworld
Torso
1935. Eliot Ness, fresh from his legendary Chicago triumph over Al Capone and associates, set his sights on Cleveland and went on a crusade that matched, and sometimes even surpassed, his past accomplishments. Dismembered body parts have started washing up in a concentrated area of Lake Erie Sound. Their headless torsos have left no clues to their identity or the reason for death. Elliot Ness and his colorful gang of "The Unknowns" chased this killer through the underbelly of Cleveland for years. As far as the public was concerned he was never captured. But what really happened is even more shocking. This award-winning collection includes a historic photo essay of the actual murders. Torso was nominated for an International Horror Guild award for best graphic story and for 3 International Eagle Awards.
280 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2000
About the author
Brian Michael Bendis
4,348 books2,468 followersA comic book writer and erstwhile artist. He has won critical acclaim (including five Eisner Awards) and is one of the most successful writers working in mainstream comics. For over eight years Bendis’s books have consistently sat in the top five best sellers on the nationwide comic and graphic novel sales charts.
Though he started as a writer and artist of independent noir fiction series, he shot to stardom as a writer of Marvel Comics' superhero books, particularly Ultimate Spider-Man.
Bendis first entered the comic world with the "Jinx" line of crime comics in 1995. This line has spawned the graphic novels Goldfish, Fire, Jinx, Torso (with Marc Andreyko), and Total Sell Out. Bendis is writing the film version of Jinx for Universal Pictures with Oscar-winner Charlize Theron attached to star and produce.
Bendis’s other projects include the Harvey, Eisner, and Eagle Award-nominated Powers (with Michael Avon Oeming) originally from Image Comics, now published by Marvel's new creator-owned imprint Icon Comics, and the Hollywood tell-all Fortune and Glory from Oni Press, both of which received an "A" from Entertainment Weekly.
Bendis is one of the premiere architects of Marvel's "Ultimate" line: comics specifically created for the new generation of comic readers. He has written every issue of Ultimate Spider-Man since its best-selling launch, and has also written for Ultimate Fantastic Four and Ultimate X-Men, as well as every issue of Ultimate Marvel Team-Up, Ultimate Origin and Ultimate Six.
Brian is currently helming a renaissance for Marvel’s AVENGERS franchise by writing both New Avengers and Mighty Avengers along with the successful ‘event’ projects House Of M, Secret War, and this summer’s Secret Invasion.
He has also previously done work on Daredevil, Alias, and The Pulse.
Though he started as a writer and artist of independent noir fiction series, he shot to stardom as a writer of Marvel Comics' superhero books, particularly Ultimate Spider-Man.
Bendis first entered the comic world with the "Jinx" line of crime comics in 1995. This line has spawned the graphic novels Goldfish, Fire, Jinx, Torso (with Marc Andreyko), and Total Sell Out. Bendis is writing the film version of Jinx for Universal Pictures with Oscar-winner Charlize Theron attached to star and produce.
Bendis’s other projects include the Harvey, Eisner, and Eagle Award-nominated Powers (with Michael Avon Oeming) originally from Image Comics, now published by Marvel's new creator-owned imprint Icon Comics, and the Hollywood tell-all Fortune and Glory from Oni Press, both of which received an "A" from Entertainment Weekly.
Bendis is one of the premiere architects of Marvel's "Ultimate" line: comics specifically created for the new generation of comic readers. He has written every issue of Ultimate Spider-Man since its best-selling launch, and has also written for Ultimate Fantastic Four and Ultimate X-Men, as well as every issue of Ultimate Marvel Team-Up, Ultimate Origin and Ultimate Six.
Brian is currently helming a renaissance for Marvel’s AVENGERS franchise by writing both New Avengers and Mighty Avengers along with the successful ‘event’ projects House Of M, Secret War, and this summer’s Secret Invasion.
He has also previously done work on Daredevil, Alias, and The Pulse.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 209 reviews
March 21, 2022
I read this as an electronic version, which was a mistake because the book sometimes turns sideways or upside down or is meant to be read over a full two page spread and that's really hard to do in an e-version. So if you get it, get the physical copy.
September 10, 2022
So this was a crime/detective drama based on true events about the “Torso” killer in Cleveland in the 1920/1930s. Eliot Ness, after taking down Capone in Chicago, is brought in to Cleveland to clean up the corruption in the city. Once he gets set up there, the killings start happening. Bodies missing their heads, hands and feet start washing up on the shore of Lake Erie. We follow Ness and the two detectives, Simon and Mrylo, as they do the best they can trying to identify some of these bodies on the quest to find this killer. At times, the story got dark and chilling which fit perfectly with this noir detective story. I found myself getting attached to the two detectives as we followed them to a tragic ending. Any fan of noir crime and true stories, I recommend checking this one out.
September 30, 2022
I really enjoyed this graphic novel adaptation of Ness's hunt for the Torso Killer. Although, this would definitely be easier to read as a physical copy rather than an e-book format as I read it. There are panels that you require you to turn the book around and upside down and it's really difficult to not be taken out of the story when you're trying to read upside down on your computer.
I really liked the artwork in this because it had a kind of noir feel but was much darker and more striking. For being in black and white the visuals are still very striking and detailed. I would definitely recommend this if you like the graphic novel medium and are a fan of true crime. I also really liked that I felt like I got more insight into Ness and what his role in the investigation was.
Received via Edelweiss
I really liked the artwork in this because it had a kind of noir feel but was much darker and more striking. For being in black and white the visuals are still very striking and detailed. I would definitely recommend this if you like the graphic novel medium and are a fan of true crime. I also really liked that I felt like I got more insight into Ness and what his role in the investigation was.
Received via Edelweiss
January 26, 2010
Wow.
I first heard about this book by reading Bendis' "Fortune and Glory," his autobiographical story about his attempts to turn his comics projects into films. His description of this true-crime tale about Eliot Ness and America's first serial killer in 1930s Cleveland piqued my interest, but I couldn't seem to find the book anywhere. In the meantime, I read his Goldfish, which had similar art and a similarly gritty (though fictional) story; it was good enough, but not really my thing.
This, though, was just brilliant. The meticulous use of the landscape of the time period and actual artifacts from the crime heightens the realism while the in-depth character portraits allow us to grow attached to the players in the narrative. It's a great piece of history as well as a great story, and for that Bendis (and co-writer Marc Andreyko) deserves a lot of credit. And Bendis' art, which I found hard to follow in Goldfish, is brilliant here -- perhaps not technically amazing in terms of drafting, but the layouts and pacing are phenomenal, creative without being distracting, heightening the tension in key scenes.
There's also a subplot I wasn't expecting involving a young detective; I'm not sure how much is owed to the history and how much is Bendis' (or, more likely, Andreyko's) invention, but they handle the plot with a delicacy I didn't expect, especially for this genre and this time period.
All in all, I highly recommend this to anyone who likes Bendis' work, or anyone who likes true crime stories.
I first heard about this book by reading Bendis' "Fortune and Glory," his autobiographical story about his attempts to turn his comics projects into films. His description of this true-crime tale about Eliot Ness and America's first serial killer in 1930s Cleveland piqued my interest, but I couldn't seem to find the book anywhere. In the meantime, I read his Goldfish, which had similar art and a similarly gritty (though fictional) story; it was good enough, but not really my thing.
This, though, was just brilliant. The meticulous use of the landscape of the time period and actual artifacts from the crime heightens the realism while the in-depth character portraits allow us to grow attached to the players in the narrative. It's a great piece of history as well as a great story, and for that Bendis (and co-writer Marc Andreyko) deserves a lot of credit. And Bendis' art, which I found hard to follow in Goldfish, is brilliant here -- perhaps not technically amazing in terms of drafting, but the layouts and pacing are phenomenal, creative without being distracting, heightening the tension in key scenes.
There's also a subplot I wasn't expecting involving a young detective; I'm not sure how much is owed to the history and how much is Bendis' (or, more likely, Andreyko's) invention, but they handle the plot with a delicacy I didn't expect, especially for this genre and this time period.
All in all, I highly recommend this to anyone who likes Bendis' work, or anyone who likes true crime stories.
October 22, 2021
The lay out was interesting at times and innovative, but I feel I do not quite have the smarts to be reading graphic fiction. I'm often confused who is speaking, or in what order the bubbles are meant to be read — across both pages, in circles, top to bottom etc. Often I feel I'm reading the bubbles in the wrong order.
My biggest beef with this book was the sloppy editing. Lots of typos in the text — confusing hear and here, they're/their, stuff like that. Someone was said to be "hold up" when they were "holed up." The history and the story were very interesting; the lettering was sub-par.
My biggest beef with this book was the sloppy editing. Lots of typos in the text — confusing hear and here, they're/their, stuff like that. Someone was said to be "hold up" when they were "holed up." The history and the story were very interesting; the lettering was sub-par.
May 10, 2019
I have a thing for true crime graphic novels, and Torso did not disappoint. An intricate and detailed retelling of a horrific and still unsolved real-life case, this graphic novel presents the true details and creates a gritty and chilling noir-like atmosphere.
I loved the style of the drawings, very dark and shadow-heavy, chiaroscuro with lots of slow close-ups on faces and other details. For being a graphic novel, it is actually very heavy on the dialogue too, with lengthy panels of back and forth conversation.
The layout, pacing, and streamlined nature of the art and panels is just superb. It keeps you drawn into the story and makes the moments of horror all the more shocking.
I didn’t realize there was so much I didn’t know about this infamous case! Now I’d like to read an in-depth study of the case because it is such an intricate web of lies, bureaucracy, mismanagement, and a killer who slipped away.
Highly recommended for true crime enthusiasts!
I loved the style of the drawings, very dark and shadow-heavy, chiaroscuro with lots of slow close-ups on faces and other details. For being a graphic novel, it is actually very heavy on the dialogue too, with lengthy panels of back and forth conversation.
The layout, pacing, and streamlined nature of the art and panels is just superb. It keeps you drawn into the story and makes the moments of horror all the more shocking.
I didn’t realize there was so much I didn’t know about this infamous case! Now I’d like to read an in-depth study of the case because it is such an intricate web of lies, bureaucracy, mismanagement, and a killer who slipped away.
Highly recommended for true crime enthusiasts!
December 21, 2012
This is a true crime story fashioned beautifully by Bendis and artfully designed by Andreyko. In the art we get the noir black and white feel but also some hipper conceptualization. I liked the use of the dialogue balloons to reflect pacing... It is, as with Jack the Ripper tales, not completely satisfying because the killers in these tales went free, but as with Alan Moore's Ripper version, Bendis and Andreyko DO have a theory they put forth. The story feels a little sketchy in places, but it is still a story in the hands of masters. The tale is really focused in many ways on Eliot Ness's failure in the process to get his man.... though if Ness were here he would probably say he did have him and politics beat him out of a conviction....
October 21, 2016
4 stars
August 6, 2014
This chilling, noir-inflected true American crime tale concerning Cleveland's so-called "Torso Murders" (because that's usually what was found) is presented here in gritty art crafted with black and white graphics, infused with actual crime scene photos in a simple layout and is almost on par with From Hell as far as "true crime" graphic novel story-telling goes.
For those who are unaware of what happened with Eliot Ness's career after Al Capone, Torso tells the story of the incredibly shocking and horrifying events in the 30s unfolded at the creepy and desolate Kingsbury Run, which was the grisly playground of the "Mad Butcher" from 1934 until 1938 and accounts the gripping hunt for the Ohio serial killer who was officially never named.
The Cleveland Torso Murders, most of which the victims were brutally killed by decapitation while alive, were some of the most sensational crimes and were never solved.
This is the story of how newly-appointed director of public safety, Eliot Ness realises that hunting this killer was not like battling organised crime.
Bendis's delivery has a good pace, a lot of attention to detail, and there is an interesting sub-plot about a gay cop who has something to say on the matter of whether the killer was sexually perverted due to his equal number of female and male victims during a time when homosexuality was largely considered a "perversion". I really found this specific exploration of social issues part of the appeal of Bendis's telling of this sensational and super creepy unsolved mystery.
The narration is not perfect, but I do consider Torso an excellent initiation for learning about the Cleveland Torso Murders, though it lacks some of the in-depth details involved with the individual killings, but which anyone can take upon themselves to further explore.
I found myself actually creeped out while reading this, but I couldn't put it down until I had finished it and so overall, I give Torso 4 stars for being an uber-creepy primer, and ohh man, the ending.
April 28, 2014
Meh.
The story was involving enough, but the artwork proved to be extremely distracting for me to not give this another star or two. Every other page had repeated panels (or the same panel rotated or zoomed in to some degree). This was an interesting trick early on, but after a while it just became a point of aggravation for me. The height of this was six full pages of the exact same silhouette of Ness and a uniformed officer sitting in a car repeated seven or eight times per page. The only difference in the panels was the cityscape photo background becoming lighter and lighter (dawn or fog burning off?) and the sparse word balloons of their conversation.
The dark pages full of black ink were moody or "noir" enough (Bendis must have had the same supplier as Gerhard and Sim used doing Cerebus), but it was too hard to distinguish some characters between one page and another unless they were named in the conversation directed at them. It was so bad for me about 2/3 of the way through when an important scene comes up and I wonder if the character shown is the killer. It is made clear a few pages later that it was actually one of the main detectives on the case. Stick figures wouldn't have been any more confounding for me to keep track of who was who. And then there are all the twisty pages of panels and/or word balloon chains that force the reader to rotate the book in order to read everything for no apparent reason, again, swimming in a sea of black ink.
There are some nice visual and cinematic techniques in evidence (e.g. the fade in and out at the start and end of chapters), and the story is engrossing enough for me to recommend it. This came highly recommended to me, so those others must have been able to get past the art quirks that diverted me so much.
The story was involving enough, but the artwork proved to be extremely distracting for me to not give this another star or two. Every other page had repeated panels (or the same panel rotated or zoomed in to some degree). This was an interesting trick early on, but after a while it just became a point of aggravation for me. The height of this was six full pages of the exact same silhouette of Ness and a uniformed officer sitting in a car repeated seven or eight times per page. The only difference in the panels was the cityscape photo background becoming lighter and lighter (dawn or fog burning off?) and the sparse word balloons of their conversation.
The dark pages full of black ink were moody or "noir" enough (Bendis must have had the same supplier as Gerhard and Sim used doing Cerebus), but it was too hard to distinguish some characters between one page and another unless they were named in the conversation directed at them. It was so bad for me about 2/3 of the way through when an important scene comes up and I wonder if the character shown is the killer. It is made clear a few pages later that it was actually one of the main detectives on the case. Stick figures wouldn't have been any more confounding for me to keep track of who was who. And then there are all the twisty pages of panels and/or word balloon chains that force the reader to rotate the book in order to read everything for no apparent reason, again, swimming in a sea of black ink.
There are some nice visual and cinematic techniques in evidence (e.g. the fade in and out at the start and end of chapters), and the story is engrossing enough for me to recommend it. This came highly recommended to me, so those others must have been able to get past the art quirks that diverted me so much.
September 11, 2020
This way emotionally and aesthetically way more satisfying than I thought it would be.
First of all, the black-and-white hyper contrasted aesthetic and the spiral shaped pages really add a somber, unhinged feeling that was impossible to evoke with a straightforward delivery. It's a trip. Now, the serial killer narrative is what it is. It's gruesome in a way every serial killer narrative is. But what it interesting in TORSO is the idea of failure. Particularly the failure of a folk hero, Elliot Ness. The man who upheld America's morality has utterly failed at keeping them safe from the psychopathic brutality, showing that there is no real order of things. That's what makes this story pretty darn scary.
First of all, the black-and-white hyper contrasted aesthetic and the spiral shaped pages really add a somber, unhinged feeling that was impossible to evoke with a straightforward delivery. It's a trip. Now, the serial killer narrative is what it is. It's gruesome in a way every serial killer narrative is. But what it interesting in TORSO is the idea of failure. Particularly the failure of a folk hero, Elliot Ness. The man who upheld America's morality has utterly failed at keeping them safe from the psychopathic brutality, showing that there is no real order of things. That's what makes this story pretty darn scary.
December 10, 2015
The more you learn about your heroes, the worse it is.
I know this probably seems like complete non-sequiter in this space, and it almost is. But it’s just a little bit not.
Now, I know. I know it’s probably not fair to judge our writers on single instances. But it just seems to happen so often. I had a bad thing with Brian Azzarello. It was brief, I’m 100% sure he wouldn’t remember, but it hurt my feelings. There you go.
A friend of mine had the same thing with Jason Aaron. And I don’t want to read his stuff because I feel like that’s not cool.
And while I can read books by people who I SUSPECT aren’t cool, it’s a little harder to read books by people who have actually BEEN not cool to me and/or people I know.
Now, by not cool, I might mean something different than other people.
Basically, the people I’m talking about, they’ve been uncool in a setting where they should fully expect to meet some people. Why would you even do that if you aren’t a person who likes it?
The people I’m not talking about are the people who we’ve sort of decided are uncool.
I think Jonathan Franzen is a good example. I think we’ve decided he’s not cool. Or even a jerk.
Let's have a huge, long, unnecessary un-takedown of Jonathan Franzen now.
A Flavorwire article gives us 7 reasons why Franzen sucks. One reason is that he doesn’t like social media. Another is that the literary establishment tends to focus more on men, and Jonathan Franzen is a man. Another one is a trumped-up, totally false story about Franzen trying to scam videos from a college library, and the problem Flavorwire had is that Franzen responded to the false claim and showed that it was total bullshit. I’d say, of the 7 reasons, there’s 1 that might have some merit. The Wharton thing. Which we’ll get to.
Gawker had a Franzen article. Which I clicked away from because I didn’t want to watch a 15-second ad for some bullshit in order to read an article that I think probably sucks. What’s the TL:DR for video ads? Because let it be known, I’m not waiting for a video ad to play before I read an article that probably has less actual content than the goddamn video ad, Gawker. And I probably won’t wait for a video to play so I can read an article I agree with either, Gawker.
I find it quite fascinating that Franzen got a boatload of shit for his “Wharton Article Where He Said Edith Wharton Was Ugly.” For starters, Franzen talks a lot about the fact that Wharton came from privilege and money, and that she was quite socially conservative for the time. Which is something that a lot of us seem to be discussing these days. The “P” word isn’t “Peter” anymore, and I’m personally upset by that. Oh, how my star has fallen.
You wanna read the offending passage? Here we go:
[Wharton] did have one potentially redeeming disadvantage: she wasn’t pretty. The man she would have most liked to marry, her friend Walter Berry, a noted connoisseur of female beauty, wasn’t the marrying type. After two failed youthful courtships, she settled for an affable dud of modest means, Teddy Wharton. That their ensuing twenty-eight years of marriage were almost entirely sexless was perhaps less a function of her looks than of her sexual ignorance, the blame for which she laid squarely on her mother. As far as anyone knows, Wharton died having had only one other sexual relationship, an affair with an evasive bisexual journalist and serial two-timer, Morton Fullerton. She by then was in her late forties, and the beginner-like idealism and blatancy of her ardor—detailed in a secret diary and in letters preserved by Fullerton—are at once poignant and somewhat embarrassing, as they seem later to have been to Wharton herself.
And later:
An odd thing about beauty, however, is that its absence tends not to arouse our sympathy as much as other forms of privation do. To the contrary, Edith Wharton might well be more congenial to us now if, alongside her other advantages, she’d looked like Grace Kelly or Jacqueline Kennedy; and nobody was more conscious of this capacity of beauty to override our resentment of privilege than Wharton herself. At the center of each of her three finest novels is a female character of exceptional beauty, chosen deliberately to complicate the problem of sympathy.
Last:
I don’t know of another novel more preoccupied with female beauty than “The House of Mirth.” That Wharton, who was fluent in German, chose to saddle her lily-like heroine with a beard—in German, Bart—points toward the gender inversions that the author engaged in to make her difficult life livable and her private life story writable, as well as toward other forms of inversion, such as giving Lily the looks that she didn’t have and denying her the money that she did have. The novel can be read as a sustained effort by Wharton to imagine beauty from the inside and achieve sympathy for it, or, conversely, as a sadistically slow and thorough punishment of the pretty girl she couldn’t be.
Now, I hadn’t read the famous Wharton Uggo article before this. But I have to say, I think that most online news outlets didn’t actually read this article.
From my interpretation, Franzen is making the point that all writing is, to an extent, autobiography. And it’s telling to him that Wharton’s work had a lot to do with female beauty.
In fact, I think this is an interesting quote, so let’s see it again:
"To the contrary, Edith Wharton might well be more congenial to us now if, alongside her other advantages, she’d looked like Grace Kelly or Jacqueline Kennedy; and nobody was more conscious of this capacity of beauty to override our resentment of privilege than Wharton herself."
What I think he’s saying there is that we allow beautiful people to be privileged. We don’t condemn them for their money and their power if they’re beautiful. We don’t resent them because, eh, they’re pretty. Who can hate a pretty face?
I think it's also interesting that I talked to my partner about this, and she said, "Yeah. Beauty is a big thing for women." And she said it with an exasperated tone, like I'd said, "Hey, is oxygen like an important thing for women?"
I could be wrong in my interpretation. But I think that saying Franzen’s essay was about Edith Wharton being unattractive is purposeful simplification and missing of the point for the sake of getting in 500 words and cashing a paycheck at a web site that does shit news. I feel like Franzen’s essay poses a literary theory about writing as the exploration of the self and the other, and about the way in which we value beauty, as a society. I didn’t feel the hand of judgment in Franzen saying that Wharton was unattractive. In order for him to pose this theory, it IS necessary to talk about whether Wharton was conventionally attractive.
However, her attractiveness doesn't come in to play when he's evaluating the quality of her work. I guess I'm just an obnoxious asshole because I read the article. Even this part:
"You may be dismayed by the ongoing underrepresentation of women in the American canon, or by the academy’s valorization of overt formal experimentation at the expense of more naturalistic fiction. You may lament that Wharton’s work is still commonly assumed to be as dated as the hats she wore, or that several generations of high-school graduates know her chiefly through her frosty minor novel “Ethan Frome.” You may feel that, alongside the more familiar genealogies of American fiction (Henry James and the modernists, Mark Twain and the vernacularists, Herman Melville and the postmoderns), there is a less noticed line connecting William Dean Howells to F. Scott Fitzgerald and Sinclair Lewis and thence to Jay McInerney and Jane Smiley, and that Wharton is the vital link in it. You may want, as I do, to recelebrate “The House of Mirth,” call much merited attention to “The Custom of the Country,” and reëvaluate “The Age of Innocence”—her three great like-titled novels."
Anyway, what else does the modern media have to say about Franzen?
Oh, Slate posted an article about how Jonathan Franzen sucks because he was becoming the face of birdwatchers.
Fuck off, Slate.
Do you remember when you used to be an important news site? When people came to you for alternative views on shit? Do you remember what it was like to publish stories about things other than nonsense by someone who dislikes Jonathan Franzen and then dislikes him further for daring to appear in a documentary about bird-watching? Oh my, and Franzen’s so bold as to say he feels like a “dweeb” when he’s birdwatching? What an asshole! What a complete and utter asshole for saying a thing that I would totally say about something like birdwatching.
Birdwatching is totally for dweebs. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve spent about two weeks making things in Google Sketchup that ALREADY EXIST IN THE REAL WORLD. That shit’s for dweebs. Writing book reviews this goddamn long is definitely dweeb behavior.
We love Wil Wheaton because he embraces being a geek, we love Big Bang Theory’s cast of unlikely herodorks, and we can’t get enough of Chris Hardwick’s empire, which is called NERDist. But for Franzen to call himself a dweeb for birdwatching. That, sir, is an insult on the level of classlessness.
If only you could see that your words are as ugly as Edith Wharton’s face, Franzen.
Let’s bring this back around.
I try not to learn anything about my heroes anymore. Because, for the most part, it turns out bad.
Except…damn it, when it turns out good, it turns out SO good.
But I think all we can do is try to move forward and, you know, like the things we like as much as we can, in spite of what we might have heard about the thing’s creators.
We talk about the responsibility of artists an awful lot. Whether creators are responsible for their audiences and the people who love their work, for the things done in their names.
We talk less about our responsibility as consumers.
I think one of our burdens, as consumers of art, is to let ourselves love the art. Which sometimes means fighting what we know about the creators, and even being purposefully ignorant. I'm not talking about ignoring crimes, but just general dickishness. And sometimes, Azzarello, we lose that battle. But that doesn’t mean that anyone who’s mean hasn’t made great art.
In our current world, where we could probably find something dickish that ANYONE has done, it might be our responsibility to either overlook that which isn't truly heinous, and if we can't put that stuff aside, to not go digging in the first place.
But I’ll say this, in caution to artists.
Damn. When someone is trying to say something nice or appreciate you, don’t be a dick about it. I know it’s shitty when you feel like you can’t go out and have a cup of coffee without some nerd getting in your face because you write awesome comics. Actually, I don’t KNOW that, but I can imagine it’d suck.
But fuck, man. Be kind. We love what you do. And sometimes we love what you do so much, or what you do was there for us in a time we really needed it, or something you did changed the course of our lives, and we need to say thanks. We can’t keep it in. Maybe we won’t see you again, and we have to take the chance.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to force you to sign autographs and give out hugs. I’m just telling you that when you’re not very nice to someone who I care about, that shit ripples. That person is disappointed, and I’m disappointed, and while I’m reading your pretty good book about real-life mutilation and murder, personal favorite subjects, I can’t help but remember the time you were kind of a dick to my friend.
What I’m saying is, I love your work, and it’s art, and the way you behave for the rest of your life can either help that feeling or tarnish it, just a little.
Let's make a deal. I'm going to do my best not to type in "Bendis asshole" to Google, and you do your best to be nice to people. Deal?
I know this probably seems like complete non-sequiter in this space, and it almost is. But it’s just a little bit not.
Now, I know. I know it’s probably not fair to judge our writers on single instances. But it just seems to happen so often. I had a bad thing with Brian Azzarello. It was brief, I’m 100% sure he wouldn’t remember, but it hurt my feelings. There you go.
A friend of mine had the same thing with Jason Aaron. And I don’t want to read his stuff because I feel like that’s not cool.
And while I can read books by people who I SUSPECT aren’t cool, it’s a little harder to read books by people who have actually BEEN not cool to me and/or people I know.
Now, by not cool, I might mean something different than other people.
Basically, the people I’m talking about, they’ve been uncool in a setting where they should fully expect to meet some people. Why would you even do that if you aren’t a person who likes it?
The people I’m not talking about are the people who we’ve sort of decided are uncool.
I think Jonathan Franzen is a good example. I think we’ve decided he’s not cool. Or even a jerk.
Let's have a huge, long, unnecessary un-takedown of Jonathan Franzen now.
A Flavorwire article gives us 7 reasons why Franzen sucks. One reason is that he doesn’t like social media. Another is that the literary establishment tends to focus more on men, and Jonathan Franzen is a man. Another one is a trumped-up, totally false story about Franzen trying to scam videos from a college library, and the problem Flavorwire had is that Franzen responded to the false claim and showed that it was total bullshit. I’d say, of the 7 reasons, there’s 1 that might have some merit. The Wharton thing. Which we’ll get to.
Gawker had a Franzen article. Which I clicked away from because I didn’t want to watch a 15-second ad for some bullshit in order to read an article that I think probably sucks. What’s the TL:DR for video ads? Because let it be known, I’m not waiting for a video ad to play before I read an article that probably has less actual content than the goddamn video ad, Gawker. And I probably won’t wait for a video to play so I can read an article I agree with either, Gawker.
I find it quite fascinating that Franzen got a boatload of shit for his “Wharton Article Where He Said Edith Wharton Was Ugly.” For starters, Franzen talks a lot about the fact that Wharton came from privilege and money, and that she was quite socially conservative for the time. Which is something that a lot of us seem to be discussing these days. The “P” word isn’t “Peter” anymore, and I’m personally upset by that. Oh, how my star has fallen.
You wanna read the offending passage? Here we go:
[Wharton] did have one potentially redeeming disadvantage: she wasn’t pretty. The man she would have most liked to marry, her friend Walter Berry, a noted connoisseur of female beauty, wasn’t the marrying type. After two failed youthful courtships, she settled for an affable dud of modest means, Teddy Wharton. That their ensuing twenty-eight years of marriage were almost entirely sexless was perhaps less a function of her looks than of her sexual ignorance, the blame for which she laid squarely on her mother. As far as anyone knows, Wharton died having had only one other sexual relationship, an affair with an evasive bisexual journalist and serial two-timer, Morton Fullerton. She by then was in her late forties, and the beginner-like idealism and blatancy of her ardor—detailed in a secret diary and in letters preserved by Fullerton—are at once poignant and somewhat embarrassing, as they seem later to have been to Wharton herself.
And later:
An odd thing about beauty, however, is that its absence tends not to arouse our sympathy as much as other forms of privation do. To the contrary, Edith Wharton might well be more congenial to us now if, alongside her other advantages, she’d looked like Grace Kelly or Jacqueline Kennedy; and nobody was more conscious of this capacity of beauty to override our resentment of privilege than Wharton herself. At the center of each of her three finest novels is a female character of exceptional beauty, chosen deliberately to complicate the problem of sympathy.
Last:
I don’t know of another novel more preoccupied with female beauty than “The House of Mirth.” That Wharton, who was fluent in German, chose to saddle her lily-like heroine with a beard—in German, Bart—points toward the gender inversions that the author engaged in to make her difficult life livable and her private life story writable, as well as toward other forms of inversion, such as giving Lily the looks that she didn’t have and denying her the money that she did have. The novel can be read as a sustained effort by Wharton to imagine beauty from the inside and achieve sympathy for it, or, conversely, as a sadistically slow and thorough punishment of the pretty girl she couldn’t be.
Now, I hadn’t read the famous Wharton Uggo article before this. But I have to say, I think that most online news outlets didn’t actually read this article.
From my interpretation, Franzen is making the point that all writing is, to an extent, autobiography. And it’s telling to him that Wharton’s work had a lot to do with female beauty.
In fact, I think this is an interesting quote, so let’s see it again:
"To the contrary, Edith Wharton might well be more congenial to us now if, alongside her other advantages, she’d looked like Grace Kelly or Jacqueline Kennedy; and nobody was more conscious of this capacity of beauty to override our resentment of privilege than Wharton herself."
What I think he’s saying there is that we allow beautiful people to be privileged. We don’t condemn them for their money and their power if they’re beautiful. We don’t resent them because, eh, they’re pretty. Who can hate a pretty face?
I think it's also interesting that I talked to my partner about this, and she said, "Yeah. Beauty is a big thing for women." And she said it with an exasperated tone, like I'd said, "Hey, is oxygen like an important thing for women?"
I could be wrong in my interpretation. But I think that saying Franzen’s essay was about Edith Wharton being unattractive is purposeful simplification and missing of the point for the sake of getting in 500 words and cashing a paycheck at a web site that does shit news. I feel like Franzen’s essay poses a literary theory about writing as the exploration of the self and the other, and about the way in which we value beauty, as a society. I didn’t feel the hand of judgment in Franzen saying that Wharton was unattractive. In order for him to pose this theory, it IS necessary to talk about whether Wharton was conventionally attractive.
However, her attractiveness doesn't come in to play when he's evaluating the quality of her work. I guess I'm just an obnoxious asshole because I read the article. Even this part:
"You may be dismayed by the ongoing underrepresentation of women in the American canon, or by the academy’s valorization of overt formal experimentation at the expense of more naturalistic fiction. You may lament that Wharton’s work is still commonly assumed to be as dated as the hats she wore, or that several generations of high-school graduates know her chiefly through her frosty minor novel “Ethan Frome.” You may feel that, alongside the more familiar genealogies of American fiction (Henry James and the modernists, Mark Twain and the vernacularists, Herman Melville and the postmoderns), there is a less noticed line connecting William Dean Howells to F. Scott Fitzgerald and Sinclair Lewis and thence to Jay McInerney and Jane Smiley, and that Wharton is the vital link in it. You may want, as I do, to recelebrate “The House of Mirth,” call much merited attention to “The Custom of the Country,” and reëvaluate “The Age of Innocence”—her three great like-titled novels."
Anyway, what else does the modern media have to say about Franzen?
Oh, Slate posted an article about how Jonathan Franzen sucks because he was becoming the face of birdwatchers.
Fuck off, Slate.
Do you remember when you used to be an important news site? When people came to you for alternative views on shit? Do you remember what it was like to publish stories about things other than nonsense by someone who dislikes Jonathan Franzen and then dislikes him further for daring to appear in a documentary about bird-watching? Oh my, and Franzen’s so bold as to say he feels like a “dweeb” when he’s birdwatching? What an asshole! What a complete and utter asshole for saying a thing that I would totally say about something like birdwatching.
Birdwatching is totally for dweebs. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve spent about two weeks making things in Google Sketchup that ALREADY EXIST IN THE REAL WORLD. That shit’s for dweebs. Writing book reviews this goddamn long is definitely dweeb behavior.
We love Wil Wheaton because he embraces being a geek, we love Big Bang Theory’s cast of unlikely herodorks, and we can’t get enough of Chris Hardwick’s empire, which is called NERDist. But for Franzen to call himself a dweeb for birdwatching. That, sir, is an insult on the level of classlessness.
If only you could see that your words are as ugly as Edith Wharton’s face, Franzen.
Let’s bring this back around.
I try not to learn anything about my heroes anymore. Because, for the most part, it turns out bad.
Except…damn it, when it turns out good, it turns out SO good.
But I think all we can do is try to move forward and, you know, like the things we like as much as we can, in spite of what we might have heard about the thing’s creators.
We talk about the responsibility of artists an awful lot. Whether creators are responsible for their audiences and the people who love their work, for the things done in their names.
We talk less about our responsibility as consumers.
I think one of our burdens, as consumers of art, is to let ourselves love the art. Which sometimes means fighting what we know about the creators, and even being purposefully ignorant. I'm not talking about ignoring crimes, but just general dickishness. And sometimes, Azzarello, we lose that battle. But that doesn’t mean that anyone who’s mean hasn’t made great art.
In our current world, where we could probably find something dickish that ANYONE has done, it might be our responsibility to either overlook that which isn't truly heinous, and if we can't put that stuff aside, to not go digging in the first place.
But I’ll say this, in caution to artists.
Damn. When someone is trying to say something nice or appreciate you, don’t be a dick about it. I know it’s shitty when you feel like you can’t go out and have a cup of coffee without some nerd getting in your face because you write awesome comics. Actually, I don’t KNOW that, but I can imagine it’d suck.
But fuck, man. Be kind. We love what you do. And sometimes we love what you do so much, or what you do was there for us in a time we really needed it, or something you did changed the course of our lives, and we need to say thanks. We can’t keep it in. Maybe we won’t see you again, and we have to take the chance.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to force you to sign autographs and give out hugs. I’m just telling you that when you’re not very nice to someone who I care about, that shit ripples. That person is disappointed, and I’m disappointed, and while I’m reading your pretty good book about real-life mutilation and murder, personal favorite subjects, I can’t help but remember the time you were kind of a dick to my friend.
What I’m saying is, I love your work, and it’s art, and the way you behave for the rest of your life can either help that feeling or tarnish it, just a little.
Let's make a deal. I'm going to do my best not to type in "Bendis asshole" to Google, and you do your best to be nice to people. Deal?
September 4, 2019
I really enjoyed the crossover of true crime and graphic novel mediums. I would like to see more books like this. I quite liked the black and white noir art style with real photographs interspersed. Really brought me in to the world.
This is a great case for a true crime story. It has a lot of mystery, graphic images, interesting detectives and other players, and a lot to be commented on as far as politics and the criminal justice system is concerned. However, the book doesn't go into much of that. Everything is very surface level. If they had gone into much much more detail this could have been more educational and more entertaining but as it stands I am just left wanting more and feeling unsatisfied.
This is a great case for a true crime story. It has a lot of mystery, graphic images, interesting detectives and other players, and a lot to be commented on as far as politics and the criminal justice system is concerned. However, the book doesn't go into much of that. Everything is very surface level. If they had gone into much much more detail this could have been more educational and more entertaining but as it stands I am just left wanting more and feeling unsatisfied.
April 20, 2024
Opinião completa no blog BUÉ DE LIVROS: Torso
«Torso conta a história da investigação ao primeiro serial killer americano.»
March 26, 2022
Have you come across a true crime graphic novel before? I hadn’t until I saw Torso by Brian Bendis. Elliot Ness was a federal agent in 1930s Chicago known for fastidiously breaking down notorious crime gangs, including that of Al Capone. The story follows his Cleveland assignment where he investigates body parts washing up on the shores of Lake Erie in Cleveland and the discovery of torsos in and around the area. There are no clues, no fingerprints, and no witnesses. Ness and his team of capable agents try to crack this tough puzzle.
The story is more procedural rather than event-oriented. Ness and his team try to piece together (pun not intended) a picture of the killer through interviews with residents and long brainstorming sessions. But despite their intense investigations they’re left with only inconclusive, IFTTT versions of the murders which don’t get them anywhere. There were around 12 victims in all. None of them had family looking for them, nothing much was known about them, and nobody even knew where they came from.
With no fingerprints, DNA, weapons and anything concrete, this was one of the most fascinating investigations I have read about. The book intersperses actual photos released by the police department and from newspapers of the time which I thought was quite a clever way of emphasizing the reality of these incidents. And they also lend an atmosphere of eeriness.
The crime remains technically unsolved to this day. But this is one book that makes the journey more intriguing than the destination. If you love crime investigations don’t miss this one.
The story is more procedural rather than event-oriented. Ness and his team try to piece together (pun not intended) a picture of the killer through interviews with residents and long brainstorming sessions. But despite their intense investigations they’re left with only inconclusive, IFTTT versions of the murders which don’t get them anywhere. There were around 12 victims in all. None of them had family looking for them, nothing much was known about them, and nobody even knew where they came from.
With no fingerprints, DNA, weapons and anything concrete, this was one of the most fascinating investigations I have read about. The book intersperses actual photos released by the police department and from newspapers of the time which I thought was quite a clever way of emphasizing the reality of these incidents. And they also lend an atmosphere of eeriness.
The crime remains technically unsolved to this day. But this is one book that makes the journey more intriguing than the destination. If you love crime investigations don’t miss this one.
December 19, 2009
"So first the good."
"The good?"
"Yeah, the good. The book certainly has some decent artistic choices: the art style is appropriately stark and moody, and the use of actual photos and news clippings from the crime ups it as well. Unfortunately, the artistic choices is also one of the problems."
"What do you mean it's a strong point and one of the problems?"
"Well, you know the comic Red Meat?"
"The clip-art one?"
"Yeah, the clip-art one. A lot of the book is like that: making use of a small handful of panels used over and over, only they're rotated, or with extra shading, or a different photo background, or cropped and zoomed. There's one set of five pages that just re-use the same two silhouetted heads over and over again, the only difference between any of the panels being the dialog and the landscape photo in the background. It leaves everything feeling very static and lifeless."
"I can see that."
"Yeah."
"Well, at least it keeps the character depictions consistent."
"You'd think that."
"They're not?"
"No. Imagine Red Meat again, except this time you can never be sure until somebody refers to the character by name that Milkman Dan's art is meant to represent him or Bug-Eyed Earl or some other character. Art used for one character will get reused for another later one."
"That bad?"
"That bad."
"Sounds like a real nudnik. How's the writing though?"
"The writing is... an acquired taste, I suppose."
"An acquired taste?"
"See how this review is formatted?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it's like that. Short back-and-forth sentences from everyone, regardless of conversation topic, character background, &c.."
"And that's bad?"
"Some people don't notice it, others don't mind it. Me? I notice it and it bugs me. A lot."
"So you didn't like the book then?"
"I didn't like the book."
"The good?"
"Yeah, the good. The book certainly has some decent artistic choices: the art style is appropriately stark and moody, and the use of actual photos and news clippings from the crime ups it as well. Unfortunately, the artistic choices is also one of the problems."
"What do you mean it's a strong point and one of the problems?"
"Well, you know the comic Red Meat?"
"The clip-art one?"
"Yeah, the clip-art one. A lot of the book is like that: making use of a small handful of panels used over and over, only they're rotated, or with extra shading, or a different photo background, or cropped and zoomed. There's one set of five pages that just re-use the same two silhouetted heads over and over again, the only difference between any of the panels being the dialog and the landscape photo in the background. It leaves everything feeling very static and lifeless."
"I can see that."
"Yeah."
"Well, at least it keeps the character depictions consistent."
"You'd think that."
"They're not?"
"No. Imagine Red Meat again, except this time you can never be sure until somebody refers to the character by name that Milkman Dan's art is meant to represent him or Bug-Eyed Earl or some other character. Art used for one character will get reused for another later one."
"That bad?"
"That bad."
"Sounds like a real nudnik. How's the writing though?"
"The writing is... an acquired taste, I suppose."
"An acquired taste?"
"See how this review is formatted?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it's like that. Short back-and-forth sentences from everyone, regardless of conversation topic, character background, &c.."
"And that's bad?"
"Some people don't notice it, others don't mind it. Me? I notice it and it bugs me. A lot."
"So you didn't like the book then?"
"I didn't like the book."
January 22, 2008
Brian Michael Bendis and Marc Andreyko, Torso (Image Entertainment, 1997)
Sometimes it seems like every city wants to claim a serial killer. Look at the number of municipalities who seem almost proud that Jeffrey Dahmer spent a portion of his upbringing in them; Akron, Ohio, just down the road from me, is one of them. A little closer to home and a little farther away in time, though, Cleveland was the home (and may still be...) of one of the most notorious serial killers active in the first half of the twentieth century: the Torso killer.
Bendis and Andreyko brought the Torso Killer, and Elliott Ness' hunt for him, to stark, ugly life in the series of comic books that has since been collected in this graphic novel. All those faults I found in Doran's A Distant Soil are absent here; Bendis and Andreyko know exactly what they're doing with keeping the reader up to speed with what's going on with each character, know exactly how much they can fit into any given page without overwhelming the reader's sensibilities, and did meticulous research on the case (living in Cleveland, it's kind of hard to get away from the details; the Torso Killer is one of our local public television station's favorite subjects). Only a piece of the ending has been shifted from the way the actual case went, presumably for dramatic effect.
But the book does not just stop at the Torso Killer, delving into the private lives of some of the folks who worked on the case, as well. The result is a cast of well-drawn characters, a good (and faithful, for the most part, to the truth) story, intriguing artwork, a fine script, and a bang-up mystery. How can you possibly go wrong? *** ½
Sometimes it seems like every city wants to claim a serial killer. Look at the number of municipalities who seem almost proud that Jeffrey Dahmer spent a portion of his upbringing in them; Akron, Ohio, just down the road from me, is one of them. A little closer to home and a little farther away in time, though, Cleveland was the home (and may still be...) of one of the most notorious serial killers active in the first half of the twentieth century: the Torso killer.
Bendis and Andreyko brought the Torso Killer, and Elliott Ness' hunt for him, to stark, ugly life in the series of comic books that has since been collected in this graphic novel. All those faults I found in Doran's A Distant Soil are absent here; Bendis and Andreyko know exactly what they're doing with keeping the reader up to speed with what's going on with each character, know exactly how much they can fit into any given page without overwhelming the reader's sensibilities, and did meticulous research on the case (living in Cleveland, it's kind of hard to get away from the details; the Torso Killer is one of our local public television station's favorite subjects). Only a piece of the ending has been shifted from the way the actual case went, presumably for dramatic effect.
But the book does not just stop at the Torso Killer, delving into the private lives of some of the folks who worked on the case, as well. The result is a cast of well-drawn characters, a good (and faithful, for the most part, to the truth) story, intriguing artwork, a fine script, and a bang-up mystery. How can you possibly go wrong? *** ½
February 2, 2011
Along with Frank Miller and David Lapham, Bendis spearheaded the crime comics movement of the 90s. Throughout the decade, he wrote and illustrated several now-classic thrillers including
Jinx
,
A.K.A. Goldfish
, and Torso. Based on the real life "Torso Murderer," a serial killer who terrorized Cleveland from 1934 to 1938, Torso unveils the last case of the post-Untouchables Elliot Ness. Bendis and co-writer Andreyko effectively convey the fear, frustrations, and chaos surrounding the notoriously still unsolved case. The last crime work illustrated by Bendis, who later found more fame as a writer of and shepherd to Marvel's resurgence of the last decade, proved to be not only his most compelling work but arguably one of the finest true crime graphic novels ever produced.
January 25, 2021
In the comics/graphic medium that I love so much, I have always said that good art can save bad writing but bad art can ruin good writing,...well here is the exception. The art is not that bad to be fair,... in terms of pacing, layout and composition it is really pretty good for black and white, but one can see that it is just not masterful, what with so many really gifted artists out there, so when I first looked at the book flipping through the pages and seeing the art,.. I groaned, ...but it was written by Bendis so I knew I had to give it a shot,...
Now the writing is not perfect either,... there was maybe too much of an effort to use dated slang to put the story in the context of the 30's when the "true" story takes place,..."Hey copper what's the skinny?" it just felt a little forced, but I gotta hand it to Bendis (and Andreyko) the writing is really good. Bendis's writing is always good. And the "true" story was too intriguing to deny as I found my self devouring the book the way I would any other Bendis book.
Now the writing is not perfect either,... there was maybe too much of an effort to use dated slang to put the story in the context of the 30's when the "true" story takes place,..."Hey copper what's the skinny?" it just felt a little forced, but I gotta hand it to Bendis (and Andreyko) the writing is really good. Bendis's writing is always good. And the "true" story was too intriguing to deny as I found my self devouring the book the way I would any other Bendis book.
November 15, 2022
As a HUGE True Crime fan I was so excited for this book. It was a true crime story that I was not particularly familiar with. While I did enjoy the lore and fining out more about this unsolved crime, I was not a fan of some of the art. While I love noir, I felt like it took away from some of this story. Odd as you would think it would be perfect for the time period. I think it was more of an editing error. Some of the flow was difficult to follow. Some of the pages too dark to read well. Twisting and turning the book every other page became a distraction to my immersion.
December 6, 2014
The only thing keeping this from a 5-star rating is the art, which I would describe as "just barely good enough to tell the story." The overly simplified blocky line art often depicts a man in a hat, nothing more. No pizzazz at all. Sometimes the exact same panel would be copied and re-used on the same page multiple time (especially during long conversations between two characters). Contrast these simple characters against the extremely detailed photographs that were used as panel backgrounds and you've got some real distractions that pull you out of the story again and again.
However, all complaints aside, the story is engrossing and filled with interesting characters. I took extra time out of my day to read the last few chapters because I couldn't wait to see how it ended.
However, all complaints aside, the story is engrossing and filled with interesting characters. I took extra time out of my day to read the last few chapters because I couldn't wait to see how it ended.
July 20, 2017
The Cleveland Torso Murderer claimed at least 12 victims in the 1930s. Bend is tells the story here along with a possible solution as to whom the killer might have been. This is an excellent 252 page graphic novel, in black & white that throws you into the time of the crisis. The dialogue is much better than most graphics offer and the artwork is just as Bendis imagined it, for he also illustrated the book. Four stars.
July 4, 2019
I went to college in Cleveland, and that was my first introduction to the Cleveland torso killer. I read about him in various museums, but only years later did I realize how significant the events should have been to history. I saw this comic book at my local (Midtown Comics) and figured I had to read. I hadn't realized Bendis grew up in Cleveland, so that made this all the more compelling to read. The plot is tense, the art a fantastic blend of silhouette and actual photos from Cleveland.
June 3, 2017
Fantastic!! I had never heard of the Torso killer before this graphic novel. The book uses drawings on photos from photo collections (the official files have disappeared) as well as standard illustrations to create help create the dark mood of the times. The eyes are particularly noteworthy.
June 20, 2024
Tavaly a Goldfish és a Jinx hamar világossá tették, hogy Bendis-nél életszerűbb dialógusokat valószínűleg senki nem ír képregényes berkekben, úgyhogy már csak ezért is nagyon vártam, hogy rátehessem a praclim a Torso-ra, és ez aztán meg is történt, amikor egy kollegám kölcsönadta néhány napja. Nem kellett csalódnom, a fent említett két cím minőségét hozta simán, és aztán, bár lehetetlennek tűnt, meg is lépte azokat, mert amíg a Goldfish és a Jinx is egy iszonyúan laza és dögös krimi-történet, addig a Torso hideglelős true crime. Horrorisztikus, mondhatnám, de annál is több, mert bár az író és a zseniális illusztrátor (korabeli tetthelyek fotói vannak bemontázsolva a panelek közé?! Iszonyú feszültséggel tömött párbeszédek tekerednek, spirálozódnak a lapok közepe fele, akár gyúlékony, ősi filmszalagok?! Idevele.) könyörtelenül labdázik a „megtörtént” és az „elmesélt” határvonalain, valahogy úgy, mint felügyeletlen kölykök a négysávos út mentén, attól még a Torso valóságtartalma kiakasztóan magas. A múlt század harmincas éveiben, a gazdasági világválságból épp csak tétován kilábalgató Cleveland-ben zajló, különösen kegyetlen gyilkosságsorozatának nem csak, hogy a mai napig nincs hivatalos lezárása, de valószínűleg nagyban felelős a magát Al Capone-t is rácsok mögé juttató Eliot Ness rendőrkarrierjének derékba töréséért is, hogy a hamar dugába dőlt politikusi ambícióiról ne is beszéljünk. De a Torso jóval több, mint egy ember kudarctörténete, egyben a brutalitás krónikája, és a múlt század egyik leggyomorforgatóbb gyilkosságainak egy lehetséges kimenetele is. Nyilván nem tudjuk, hogy igazából hogy is volt, mert amennyire tudom, maga Ness is szívesen színezte kalandjait, Capone esetében biztosan, miért épp a torzógyilkosságok kapcsán fogta volna vissza magát, de pont ez a tudatosan lebegtetett bizonytalanság, ami a Torso-t azon képregények közé emeli, amikről évtizedek múlva is beszélni fogunk.
Feltéve persze, hogy marad az emberi civilizációból valami, mert az közel száz éve is rendesen morzsolódni látszott, a közelmúltban pedig igencsak megfickósodó emberi könyörtelenség nem kecsegtet túl sok jóval.
Feltéve persze, hogy marad az emberi civilizációból valami, mert az közel száz éve is rendesen morzsolódni látszott, a közelmúltban pedig igencsak megfickósodó emberi könyörtelenség nem kecsegtet túl sok jóval.
April 26, 2023
For the true crime fans out there, this is a nasty one. Torsos wash up on the river bank in Cleveland, OH not long after games law man Elliot Ness is hired to clean up the city's corrupt police force. If you don't know the story, the final reveal is a twisted one. The artist actually used some real photographs from the case file to fill in some backgrounds. A very unique GN.
July 17, 2024
The torso murders happened in Cleveland in the 1930s and Eliot Ness, fresh from apprehending Capone, was in charge of finding the killer.
I read the graphic novel digitally, which probably wasn’t as good of an experience as if I’d read it in a paper version. The spreads weren’t ideal on a screen and the images were dark. Still a good one, but go for paper.
I read the graphic novel digitally, which probably wasn’t as good of an experience as if I’d read it in a paper version. The spreads weren’t ideal on a screen and the images were dark. Still a good one, but go for paper.
April 2, 2012
Reason for Reading: I was posting my review for "Green River Killer" on one of my book sites and this was recommended for me. I immediately knew I had to read it.
I'm pretty savvy in this field but admit I didn't know anything about this case. I've heard the moniker "The Torso Killer" before but knew nothing of the details. Billed here as America's first serial killer, that is pure hype. The Torso Killer went on his spree in the mid-1930s and I can think of at least one earlier American serial killer who worked during the late 1890s Dr. HH Holmes aka The Beast of Chicago. But putting that aside, this is still a very early serial killer case, before the days when police really knew how to handle this type of crime and the case went unsolved, and remains so to this day. Elliot Ness, was slightly involved in this case but history has added him to be much more directly involved than he actually was.
This book takes the actual events surrounding the case and adds artistic license to imagine a possible scenario and solution to the murders which heavily involves Ness. It is a gripping story, which I found fascinating and had me looking up the actual facts once I'd finished reading. There is a plethora of contemporary material still available at museums and in archives from the case but the actual police crime files have disappeared. The artwork is quite amazing, though it may not be to everyone's taste. I must say, I was really taken with it. Done in black and white, we have a mixture of medias as both illustration and photographs are combined throughout. Sometimes a photographic background is used upon which the characters are drawn and sometimes contemporary photographs of the times are used as frames within the comic. It is highly stylized art. Even the text itself is stylized with times when one must turn the book sideways to read the text and even a couple of instances when one kept turning the book around and around as the text was written in a spiral. This all fit in very well with the case, mood and atmosphere though and was not contrived at all. I enjoyed the book for it's entertainment value, it's factual representation and the imaginative process of presenting a possible solution. Some of the authors' fictional details were out there though and not appreciated by this reader, for example, adding a major fictional homos*xual character for the sole purposes of forcing an out-of-place dialogue, especially in the 1930s, between two authority figures to convince one that the killer being a pervert and a homos*xual did not mean the same thing. There was no indication of the killer's orientation mentioned otherwise in the book or in any of my online research (he killed both sexes) to make this issue even relevant to the story. One more fabulous part of the book is the final several pages contain large photographs from the case and clippings of actual newspaper items. As with the photos within the text, some are rather gruesome. An interesting unsolved crime!
I'm pretty savvy in this field but admit I didn't know anything about this case. I've heard the moniker "The Torso Killer" before but knew nothing of the details. Billed here as America's first serial killer, that is pure hype. The Torso Killer went on his spree in the mid-1930s and I can think of at least one earlier American serial killer who worked during the late 1890s Dr. HH Holmes aka The Beast of Chicago. But putting that aside, this is still a very early serial killer case, before the days when police really knew how to handle this type of crime and the case went unsolved, and remains so to this day. Elliot Ness, was slightly involved in this case but history has added him to be much more directly involved than he actually was.
This book takes the actual events surrounding the case and adds artistic license to imagine a possible scenario and solution to the murders which heavily involves Ness. It is a gripping story, which I found fascinating and had me looking up the actual facts once I'd finished reading. There is a plethora of contemporary material still available at museums and in archives from the case but the actual police crime files have disappeared. The artwork is quite amazing, though it may not be to everyone's taste. I must say, I was really taken with it. Done in black and white, we have a mixture of medias as both illustration and photographs are combined throughout. Sometimes a photographic background is used upon which the characters are drawn and sometimes contemporary photographs of the times are used as frames within the comic. It is highly stylized art. Even the text itself is stylized with times when one must turn the book sideways to read the text and even a couple of instances when one kept turning the book around and around as the text was written in a spiral. This all fit in very well with the case, mood and atmosphere though and was not contrived at all. I enjoyed the book for it's entertainment value, it's factual representation and the imaginative process of presenting a possible solution. Some of the authors' fictional details were out there though and not appreciated by this reader, for example, adding a major fictional homos*xual character for the sole purposes of forcing an out-of-place dialogue, especially in the 1930s, between two authority figures to convince one that the killer being a pervert and a homos*xual did not mean the same thing. There was no indication of the killer's orientation mentioned otherwise in the book or in any of my online research (he killed both sexes) to make this issue even relevant to the story. One more fabulous part of the book is the final several pages contain large photographs from the case and clippings of actual newspaper items. As with the photos within the text, some are rather gruesome. An interesting unsolved crime!
May 14, 2011
I went into this serial killer mystery in hope of enjoying a grand retelling of the Cleveland Torso killer. The graphic novel is a whirlwind of Eliot Ness arrival to Cleveland coinciding the serial murders of vagabonds residing in the makeshift shantytowns.
When Hollywood and greater Los Angeles were riveted and terrified of the Black Dahlia murder there was an even crazier killer on the loose in Cleveland. Bendis paces the graphic novel that rivals any nighttime tv syndicate show, but his well researched dialogue shines above contemporary writers. It is like Bendis traveled back to Cleveland, picked up the lingo and sprinkled delicately over Torso.
The drawback of the graphic novel is blink and you miss it ending. In real life the case remains unsolved, yet Bendis puts his take of what may had happen. His speculation is not as though out when compared to Alan Moore's take on Jack the Ripper in From Hell. Bendis shoehorns in a political cover up that only Frank Miller would appreciate.
When Hollywood and greater Los Angeles were riveted and terrified of the Black Dahlia murder there was an even crazier killer on the loose in Cleveland. Bendis paces the graphic novel that rivals any nighttime tv syndicate show, but his well researched dialogue shines above contemporary writers. It is like Bendis traveled back to Cleveland, picked up the lingo and sprinkled delicately over Torso.
The drawback of the graphic novel is blink and you miss it ending. In real life the case remains unsolved, yet Bendis puts his take of what may had happen. His speculation is not as though out when compared to Alan Moore's take on Jack the Ripper in From Hell. Bendis shoehorns in a political cover up that only Frank Miller would appreciate.
April 17, 2020
Rating: 5 - Bendis more like bestist!
Okay, awful pun. This book was incredible. I grabbed it only because of Bendis' name. I had never heard of the Torso killings or this novel. My first instinct was that I hated the art. I LOVE From Hell and this seemed like a poor copy of it. After finishing the book I liked the inclusion of the real articles and photographs, the art still could have been better. The landscape shots were best, but there were a few pages where it was just 2 shadow blobs literally copy and pasted frame after frame. Art aside this was incredible. It got me interested enough to read more about the downward spiral Ness fell into after the events depicted here as well as the case itself. I'm not sure why the changed the suspect's name when they used everyone else's real name. It was probably libel or some other legal issue. Aside from that it is shocking how much of what happened in this novel was true. For any serial killer, true crime, or Bendis fan check this book out.
Okay, awful pun. This book was incredible. I grabbed it only because of Bendis' name. I had never heard of the Torso killings or this novel. My first instinct was that I hated the art. I LOVE From Hell and this seemed like a poor copy of it. After finishing the book I liked the inclusion of the real articles and photographs, the art still could have been better. The landscape shots were best, but there were a few pages where it was just 2 shadow blobs literally copy and pasted frame after frame. Art aside this was incredible. It got me interested enough to read more about the downward spiral Ness fell into after the events depicted here as well as the case itself. I'm not sure why the changed the suspect's name when they used everyone else's real name. It was probably libel or some other legal issue. Aside from that it is shocking how much of what happened in this novel was true. For any serial killer, true crime, or Bendis fan check this book out.
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