by Allen Irwin
DC Comics re-booted its universe this past month with “The New 52,” so I thought it apt to begin what I hope to be an ongoing comics review section with Scott Snyder and Yanick Paquette’s Swamp Thing. It’s already a promising horror title (which goes along nicely with October) and a great start to what will hopefully be a long run.
DC Comics re-booted its universe this past month with “The New 52,” so I thought it apt to begin what I hope to be an ongoing comics review section with Scott Snyder and Yanick Paquette’s Swamp Thing. It’s already a promising horror title (which goes along nicely with October) and a great start to what will hopefully be a long run.
Swamp Thing #1
Written By: Scott Snyder
Art By: Yanick Paquette
One of the great things about Scott Snyder’s writing is how
well it integrates with the art and page layout from his collaborators.1 Swamp Thing #1 uses art and, particularly,
panel design to underline and enhance the writing, creating a shifting,
dangerous world that threatens to invade and disrupt the comic book form at
every turn. Alan Moore’s original run experimented with form and content, and
it looks like Snyder and Paquette have no intention of breaking with tradition.
Swamp Thing generates
tension right from its deceptively painterly cover page. Paquette’s mirrored
frame of frogs, birds, and vegetation immediately gives the impression of order
and even framed artwork. The presence of an actual frame highlights a kind of
organic formalism which suggests a “natural order.” Out of this organic
symmetry emerges the Swamp Thing, nature’s avatar, who is anything but
symmetrical and ordered. Bursting out of the swamp, the Swamp Thing cuts a path
conflicting with the diagonal rays of light in the background. Blooming flowers
and untamed foliage run rampant over his physique, a diametric opposite of the
carefully composed “natural” frame surrounding him. As Alec Holland will observe
later, “Everyone thinks of vegetative life as calm and gentle. Peaceful. But
the truth is the opposite.” The Swamp Thing is nature unchecked and running
wild, the true nature. Judging from
the next few months of cover solicitations, it seems like this use of an
organic “frame” around a cover image of conflict will continue at least for
this initial run, subtly underlining what seems to be one of the main conflicts
of this arc: the clash within nature between order and chaos and the threat
that this clash can bleed into both Alec Holland’s life and even the very
nature of the comic book form.
On the first page of the issue, there is a series of
identically sized panels, slowly zooming in on the Daily Planet in Metropolis.
Multiple panels of the same size, combined with Alec’s contrapuntal narration2,
create rising tension that culminates in the following splash page. There is
also a slow, creeping feeling that something is not quite right with what we are
seeing: we notice (almost unconsciously) that the borders framing the art are
slowly dissolving. Something is tearing at the edges of reality to wreak havoc
on the natural order. Then we turn the page. Panels spill out from the lower
left corner of the splash page with no concrete borders as we witness as birds,
bats and fish, “fall to the floor.”
The threat that is first hinted at here is actually
two-fold. Not only does this unknown force have broad implications for the
entire DCU (as evidenced by its effect on Superman, Batman, Aquaman and
countless others), it also works as a formalist threat to the nature of comics.
This as yet unnamed force is so threatening that it even affects the literal
edges of the comic book universe – the borders. Comics are defined by what
exists inside (and out) of their panels, so if the nature of the panels’
borders becomes threatened, the threat just becomes that much more serious.
While Snyder doesn’t seem to be going for a literal meta-fictional angle à la
Grant Morrison’s run on Animal Man,
the fact that the physical design of the book itself is affected just serves to
further underline and enhance this force’s devastating potential.
After Alec’s interior monologue plays out over these two
pages of chaos, we find him far away, in Louisiana,
working at a construction site. The knowing tone of Alec’s narration,
suggesting an inside knowledge of both truth and horror, underlines the
parallel plotline being set up by the art without commenting on it directly. By thematically connecting
Alec’s narration to the mass animal deaths, Snyder is already suggesting that
Alec will hold the key to this unfolding mystery – even his private thoughts
connect to the rest of the world and the DCU. It’s also easy to forget that the
narration is doubly efficient because it also sows the seeds of his internal
struggle over his relationship to nature. Just like the flowers of his memory,
the boards he is working on are screaming through the whir of the table saw,
reminding him that he has a special connection to nature that he shares with no
one else.
While the chronology of Swamp
Thing remains largely intact from that of pre-reboot continuity, Alec
Holland, as he exists here, is almost a completely new character. The original
Alec Holland previously appeared only in flashback, seen in the memories of the
Swamp Thing from Moore’s
run. While Alec remembers being the Swamp
Thing (he even has feelings for Abby Arcane, whom he has never met), he is not the same Swamp Thing of the past,
but the original Alec Holland brought back to life. Faced with the ultimate
identity crisis, Alec believes he can’t be a man if he has a monster’s
memories.
Just as Alec is trying to separate himself from the past he
remembers, but didn’t experience, Swamp
Thing underlines his inner conflict visually through the use of panel
borders that seem to be made of branches and greenery, which only appear when
Alec is directly grappling with his connection to nature.3 These
nature inspired panels both mirror and oppose the “tears” which occur when the
malevolent force is present. The greenery suggests life and growth – perhaps
even dangerous, uncontrolled growth,4 while the tears suggest
rupture and decay. Yet they also perform the same function: they represent
violent attempts by powerful forces to enter and contaminate or absorb natural
orders. For Alec, the Green is attempting to draw him back into its fold and
deny him the chance to become a normal man. For the DCU, the unknown force
(which I’ll call the Other) is attempting to infect and spread its influence to
the whole world.
While the opening scenes and the presence of varied border
designs firmly establish Alec’s connection to the events going on in the DCU,
the parallels between the attempts by both the Green and the Other to exert
their influence mirror each other one final time. In the scene where the Other
possesses three archaeologists,5 the “tears” in the comic’s fabric
threaten to overrun the entire page. What discernable borders the panels have
seem to arrange themselves into the scales of a creature – the Other literally
becomes the comic for a few pages. Immediately after this, Alec has a dream in
his hotel room where he remembers dying and awakens to find his room filled
with flora. Just as with the Other, the greenery actually flows out from the
panel borders and become part of the scene.6
Snyder then allows us
the only “free” page in the whole issue, when Alec attempts to throw the
Bio-Restorative formula (which he didn’t actually destroy) into the swamp. The
final page shows us the Swamp Thing preventing Alec from throwing the formula
into the swamp. The key here is that this is the only page in the whole issue
that is truly free from any kind of borders. Even previous spreads that
basically work as splash pages have the Other’s “tears” dividing them into sections.
After an entire issue of increasingly suffocating and threatening borders,
Snyder finally gives Alec and the reader a chance to breathe, but only through
a confrontation with the Swamp Thing, in the flesh.
By placing the first appearance of the Swamp Thing at the
point of both relief and climax, Snyder reveals the path that the rest of the
story will take. Powerful forces plague both Alec Holland and the world at
large, and they seem inextricably linked with the mystery of Alec’s connection
with the Swamp Thing. But, before he can join in the fight against the Other,
Alec must first reconcile with an “Other” of his own, a task which may prove
even more difficult. Through a careful, thematic interweaving of story, art,
and form, Snyder and Paquette create a comic that tills the soil and plants the
seeds of a much larger story, while it simultaneously probes Alec’s interior
state for connections and resonances that will be important in the coming
issues. Here’s hoping it stays this good.
All Images Copywright DC Comics.
* * *
1 – I’m always somewhat ambivalent about assigning credit
for things like panel design and layout to either writers or artists. In filmic
terms, I would tend to consider the comics version of mise en scène to be the job of the writer, while the actual look
and skill of the art itself to be the cinematography, and therefore the job of
the artist. Obviously, good teams probably collaborate on all aspects to a
certain extent, so, for future reference, if I attribute an aspect of framing
or placement to a particular person, it could probably also be attributed to
another member of the artistic team.
2 – Contrapuntal narration derives from a musical term
referring to, “The technique of combining two or more melodic lines in such a
way that they establish a harmonic relationship while retaining their linear
individuality,” or, “A contrasting but parallel element, item, or theme.” Matt
Zoller Seitz has written insightful pieces on this type of narration multiple
times (1, 2). Snyder used it extensively in Detective
Comics and continues it with both Swamp
Thing and Batman in the
re-launch. Here it serves to underline Alec’s connection with other things
going on in the DC Universe and provide thematic resonances between difference
plot threads. I especially like the emphasis on “Steel” when Clark Kent becomes
discernable. I wonder, though, if this is also a further connection between
Superman and some larger theme of super heroes acting as the steel blade that
prunes the world of its problems or something, but that could be a whole other
article.
3 – A great example of this is on page 12, where Alec gives
a short speech worthy of Werner Herzog. He’s talking to Superman about working
on his Bio-Restorative formula and takes a moment to point out the innate
destructiveness of nature. The closer Alec comes to remembering his connection
to the Swamp Thing, the more intense the branch borders become.
4 – Alec’s connection to the Green frightens him and he is
wary of the potential of his own research. He says, “The plant world is angry
and cruel and violent,” and later mentions his reason for destroying the batch
of bio restorative formula he made, “I completed that one batch, and then I had
this vision – a vision of a world covered in green. And so I destroyed it.”
5 – This is just another great bit of connection. The Other
is preying on archaeologists who have excavated a mammoth skeleton, reflecting
how Swamp Thing seems determined to
dig up Alec Holland/The Swamp Thing’s past and examine it.
6 – Another cool thing to point out in this scene: the
digital readout on the safe containing the Bio-Restorative formula reads 1971,
which was the year
Swamp Thing made his first appearance in House of Secrets. Also, the hotel Alec
is staying at is “Totelben’s” – John Totelben was one of the artists on Swamp Thing during Alan Moore’s run.
No comments:
Post a Comment