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There are a few seminal graphic novels and miniseries that every fan of
the comic genre should take time to read. Alan Moore's Watchmen, first
published in 1986-7, is one of them. I don't recommend it just because
it's a classic, of course. I don't expect you to be impressed by a
comic-book deconstruction of superhero funnybooks after so many other
talented creators - from Frank Miller to Kurt Busiek and back - have done
similar high-profile projects. Nor should you necessarily read it for its
historic significance in the superhero canon, or because it was nominated
for the prestigious Hugo award for s.f., or in anticipation of the
cinematization which may or may not actually get made. It's just a good book.
In what has lately become common practice, Moore creates his own cast of
superhero type characters - variations of the icons that DC is known
for - and then plays them off each other over some forty years. The main
focus is on a generation of former "heroes" - Rorschach, the Nite Owl II,
Silk Spectre, Dr. Manhattan, and the Comedian - who have been forcibly
retired from independent crimefighting. While exploring the dynamics of
this loosely-knit group, he explores several types in themselves,
exaggerated to their logical extremes. Dr. Manhattan, likened specifically
to Superman several times, is isolated and dehumanised by his
power. Rorschach, who shares with Nite Owl some of Batman's attributes,
highlights the Dark Knight's fanaticism. There is some treatment of comic
vigilantes' tendency to the extreme political right and of the ambiguities
of homosexuality and homophobia that comics have been accused of, but these
are addressed only in passing as some of the motivations leading people
into the superhero profession. The list of such influences is not a
pleasant one, but then, these are not the kind of people you'd necessarily
want protecting your city. No overdeveloped sense of responsibility or
unending drive to defend the unfortunate here. Quite the opposite: the
danger of unchecked power, both individual and social, dominates the
book. It's a very bleak, violent, and graphic depiction of the superhero
scene, and it's definitely not for everyone.
Granted, in reaching for extremes Moore surrenders the human ambiguities
and nuances that make archetypes like Superman and Batman palatable in the
long run, but he manages to provide an impressive series of features on
individual characters while advancing the larger plot (which involves,
naturally, the fate of the world). Psychological profiles blend with comic
book mayhem in this genre-bender, which borrows elements from detective
stories, science fiction, pirate tales, autobiography (no, not Moore's own
life story - I hope), etc. etc. There's a lot to pay attention to, and your
reading will definitely be different on your second (and third, and fourth)
read-through.
Visually, the book may not have the pop of our current post-Image
milieu - Dave Gibbons' grid panelling and predominantly middle-distance
storytelling don't leave much room for splash pages and pin-up shots - but
the linear artwork works well with the alinear script. There's plenty of
subtle detail to search out once you know what to look for, lending the
book to multiple readings.
And, heck, it will probably change the way you look at some of your other
graphic novels, too. After all, it is a classic.
Next Month: Look out, here comes "Barry Ween, Boy Genius!"
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