jgkeely's review

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4.0

It's 1972. Steve Gerber begins writing the best-titled comic book ever, 'Giant Size Man Thing'. He takes a story about a scientist who is accidentally transformed into a shambling mound of plant life, and turns it into a psychologically complex deconstruction of comic books. Ten years later, Alan Moore would turn the comics world on its head with 'Swamp Thing', when he turned a story about a scientist who is accidentally transformed into a shambling mound of plant-life into a psychologically complex deconstruction of comic books. Another ten years after that, Neal Gaiman would do the same with 'Black Orchid'.

In 1973, Gerber created the character of Howard the Duck, a foul-mouthed, cantankerous cartoon character who lusts after human women while joking his way through a world of existential turmoil. Four years later, Dave Sim would revolutionize the world of self-published comics with 'Cerebus', a story about a cartoonish anthropomorphic aardvark who lusts after human women and jokes his way through a world of existential turmoil. He is also foul-mouthed and cantankerous.

In 1976, Gerber started 'Omega: The Unknown', an unusual comic about real people, their personal problems, and super-powered men from strange dimensions who comment insightfully on the madness of our world. Thirteen years later, Gaiman would write 'Sandman', a year later, Milligan would start 'Shade: The Changing Man', and three years after that, Sam Kieth would write 'The Maxx', all of which deal with small people, their small problems, and strange men from other dimensions commenting insightfully on the madness of our world.

Gerber started, in the seventies, to explore the style and themes which would consume the comic book world in the decades to follow, showing that it was possible to write comics in a different way, as long as you were willing to think about comics in a different way. Yet Gerber never had the notoriety or bankbook of some of these other authors. In fact, Shade was canceled after ten issues and Gerber ended up declaring bankruptcy. So what happened?

Gerber wasn't satisfied merely to change the way comics were written, he also wanted to change the way they were controlled, the way they were published, and the way authors were treated. He took his battle to the courts, and helped to start the move towards creator's rights. He was an early voice, fighting alone against large corporations, and it drove him into bankruptcy. It ended in a settlement, and Steve never got the rights to his characters.

However, other authors were inspired by him, and we can see success stories, like Eastman and Laird, the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, and the success of creator-empowering publishers like Image and Dark Horse. We have a lot to thank Gerber for, not merely his revolutionary creativity, but his visible fight for control and comparable reimbursement.

Omega: The Unknown is an example of both. It shows that, with a powerful voice and an insightful mind, a comic book author can avoid cliche through subversion, and can explore the meaning of comic books while writing them. It also shows that even a promising, interesting new book can be taken from its author, cut short, and given to another author to be summarily killed off. And the original author, who created the character and its stories, might never be allowed to write that character again.

This is not particularly uncommon: shows get canceled, publishers refuse new books, movies end up in development hell, all because the execs up top aren't interested in giving them a chance. Cheers was last in the ratings its first year, yet someone decided to give it a chance, and it succeeded beyond the wildest dreams of avarice.

That's simply something that couldn't happen today, but it's important for us to recall that we only have good shows, good movies, and good comics because someone was willing to give them a chance. The only reason Alan Moore had carte blanche with 'Swamp Thing' was because no one expected it to last another year. Likewise, its remarkable that Watchmen was ever published, since DC revoked the use of all the characters who originally starred in it.

Yet even with all the success and notoriety Moore has had, he's struggled his entire career with creator's rights, constantly falling out with publishers who seek to maintain tight control over his creations even though they have found the greatest success when they let him run free.

Not all creators have the will to enter into a legal struggle over their work. Moore would rather write that sit in court, but we should be glad that some creators are willing to fight, or the publishers would still be paying poverty-level wages for million-selling books.

Yet this book is more than an example of the importance of creator's rights, it is ingenious, well-written, and surprising. A great deal of thought was put into this book in late-night talks by co-authors Gerber and Mary Skrenes, with a focus on characterization, psychology, and exploring the form of comics.

Gerber is one of those rare authors who is capable of stepping back from the work and saying something profound, thoughtful, and vital. While for most authors, these moments of poignancy fall flat, Gerber's unfettered mind ensures that the observations made will be intriguing, and the implications vast.

There are a lot of things done well in this book, and they are things that are deceptively difficult to do. The characters are human and realistic, but without being overwrought. They are characterized by small comments, reactions and asides, not by exposition or moments of unnatural insight.

The pacing of the story is complex and deliberate, and there is a weight to the emotional reactions that is truly difficult to capture. The book has an existential core where horror, frustration, loneliness, and loss of identity are all explored seriously, yet intriguingly through charming, surprising characters.

There are some moments that don't quite work, but most of those are the trappings of editorial control: Gerber was forced to include cameos by big time heroes to connect with the Marvel universe, which is a heavy, dull, overbearing thing in a comic so concerned with real emotions and experiences. There are also a few issues with long, knockdown fights, but these were scripted by other authors.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about the comic are its symbols, which are like the standard symbols of comic books, yet bear deeper, more conflicted meanings. Perhaps it is merely that Gerber is trying to deal with ridiculous things in a meaningful way, and to find in the ridiculous something sympathetic and true.

It takes a great deal of courage to take something absurd seriously, but that is the nature of living. We all live in an absurd world, and most of us try to ignore the incongruity, to ride along on top of all the madness and pretend that our lives are predictable and sensible. It is the philosopher who seeks to explore the absurd for what it is, and by taking a philosophical eye to comics, Gerber asks us if the hyperbolic world of superheroes is really that much stranger than the world we live in.

The philosophy of absurdism is existentialism, and there are Nietzschean overtones here, like there are in all comics books, which are naturally about the struggle of power and inequality. But also like Nietzsche, Gerber's analysis is thoroughly vital, concerned with life and living and experiences. That is what touched his readers when this first came out, and what continues to touch us today, and it is this optimistic existentialism that has inspired and overtaken the minds of great authors of comics (and 'graphic novels') since Gerber first explored them, himself.

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