Book Review: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer—The Harvest" by Richie Tankersley Cusick

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Harvest by Richie Tankersley Cusick (Archway, 1997)

For the last few months, I’ve been interested in sf and fantasy creators who have experienced extreme, severe reputational failures and falls in their careers. First came New York magazine’s ham-fisted confessional feature, "The Undoing of Joss Whedon," in January, which explored the rise and fall of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer screenwriter and then showrunner who went on to write and direct The Avengers. In that article, Whedon—once a fan favorite—didn’t really explain or apologize for his misogyny and mistreatment of cast, crew, and others, but instead came across as just another tone-deaf man who couldn’t gracefully cope with or manage unexpected, newfound power and authority.

Instead of disavowing Whedon’s past work because of his reported emotional abuse and affairs, I chose instead to revisit Buffy, which I wasn’t an avid fan of when it first aired, but in which I’ve been interested because of its once-active fandom and online community. (The decision surprised my wife; we both find it challenging to enjoy Woody Allen movies or Louis CK’s comedy now that we know more about them.) Since the article was published, I’ve watched several episodes of Buffy: "Welcome to the Hellmouth," "The Harvest," and "Witch," which aired March 10 and March 17, 1997. I also read the 1997 tie-in novelization of the first two episodes—really a two-part pilot—Richie Tankersley Cusick's The Harvest.

The TV show, which is enjoyable, comes off as a bit dated more than two decades later—that Nerf Herder theme song!—and the novelization is a pretty straightforward beat-by-beat adaptation of the first two episodes, adding very little in terms of literature. Regardless, I’d watch and read more—and the tie-in novel has inspired an interest in other TV tie-in writing, specifically that surrounding Battlestar Galactica and Knight Rider.

Admittedly, I feel guilty revisiting Whedon’s work, but it was once important and meant a lot to a lot of fans at the time. Part of me rationalizes the rubbernecking by considering whether Whedon’s abuse of power had started yet that early in his career. Regardless, it’s an interesting experience revisiting the work of people who are now much less respected and revered than they once were. (This review was previously published in slightly different form in the APA-L apazine Telegraphs & Tar Pits #4.)