Unlike many readers here, I haven’t read much Moore. I started with Voodoo, which I hated utterly, tried something else, and never went back.
I was looking forward to Swamp Thing, because so many people recommended it and thought I would enjoy it. And I’m sorry to say that I think, well, I think I may not be the right reader for this series. I did my best. Honest. And I don’t dislike it. I just don’t have the right emotional responses. By which I mean the writer, artists, and colorists intended (I think) for me to have certain emotional reactions (like fear, or loathing, or being creeped out), and instead I felt differently (was cheered, rolled my eyes, or became confused).
Last week’s discussion about Ware’s work included some talk about the different levels of reading–close readings, shallow readings, and so on. Personally, I think they all have their place.
In this case, I’m making what I would consider a fairly shallow reading. These are my gut responses, my initial reactions, my petty self. I think that’s a perfectly valid critical reading of a genre work, especially pulpy genre work, which Swamp Thing so clearly is. Now, maybe the beauty of Swamp Thing was something that you had to get at the right time in your life. It’s not my intent to harsh anybody’s squee. But you know, this comic just plain didn’t do it for me. And before I can muster up the effort to minutely examine the intimate details of the words and the scenes and the art, I have to have a strong emotional reaction (good or bad).
This comic has, as its fundamental premise, the idea of a plant monster. As an avid gardener, maybe I just don’t find plants scary enough, because darned if I could work up any fear in the swamp bits. I saw the first page of Book 2 and thought, “Oooh, what cute little lizards!”
I just don’t think that’s what they were going for, somehow.
There’s that whole first chapter/book of Saga of the Swamp Thing that starts with Dr Woodrue’s little daydream scenario and I spent the entire time eagerly looking forward to finding out what actually happened, versus what he daydreamed would happen. Then we get to the cheerful lizards and it turns out that no, that whole sequence was what happened, and it was some kind of framing technique, yada yada.
And yet Dr Woodrue was so obviously mad as a hatter. What gives, I asked myself. Wouldn’t he be an unreliable narrator? Wasn’t that the point?
But no. So we move on. “Clouds like plugs of bloodied cotton wool dab ineffectually at the slashed wrists of the sky.” Plugs of bloodied cotton wool? Plugs of bloodied cotton wool? Fellas, the sky is neon orange and the clouds are pink. It looks like a clown threw up.
Don’t get me wrong. I liked parts of it. There was a lot of stunning art. The plants especially are wonderfully drawn and cleverly inked. I loved the raccoons and the frogs and the lizards and the bugs and the flowers. I even cooed “Raccoon!” out loud, causing my dog, who knows that word, to look around hopefully for a bandit faced critter. And of course, I liked Abby Cable a lot, and I thought she and Swamp Thing should hook up and live in the swamp among the happy bugs and orchids forevermore.
But I kept running into these problems. There’s a Very Serious Moment with the Justice League, who are informing us, as outside plot devices of authority are supposed to do, of the Dire Nature of the National Tragedy. Superman says, “Insane’s the word…He’s suffered a massive psychological breakdown since the last time we encountered him.” Italics not mine. The dialog is above a wanted poster for Jason Woodrue. And I’m thinking: The man is a plant monster and you only now realize he’s caaaaraaaaaaaaaazy?
I laughed myself silly. And then the Justice League basically say they’re going to lose. Against a man who thinks he’s a plant. I don’t even know. I just… I mean. I know people enjoy this comic, but–
The villain thinks he’s a plant! He’s wearing chia-pet underpants! A couple pages after Swamp Thing tells him the green doesn’t love him anymore he runs into a pink sunset so that he can squirt flesh-toned cheeze-whiz on himself.
I don’t know. I just don’t. I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do. I tried to keep going, but there was a soon to be death by swordfish (neat, I thought to myself) and then an autistic kid, and I just can’t face autistic kids or any child victims, actually, unless they’re done well. Which I could tell this wouldn’t be.
Kind of a pity, I guess, because I sort of wanted to know whether the yam-tubers he developed when he was dreaming of his dead wife were any kind of feminine symbolism or if I’m just being too much of a gardener again. Oh well. I suppose I can live just fine without knowing.
“Don’t get me wrong. I liked parts of it. There was a lot of stunning art. The plants especially are wonderfully drawn and cleverly inked.”
Talk about damning with faint praise: Bissette and Totleben drew nice plants…that should have been worked into the title of this piece.
“Clouds like plugs of bloodied cotton wool dab ineffectually at the slashed wrists of the sky.”
That has to be the most embarrassing line Moore ever wrote. For his sake, I hope it is.
Even worse: isn’t that supposed to be Abby narrating? The Transylvanian emigrant who talks like a valley girl? I mean, y’know, I just, uhhh… that’s sort of, like, what I’m trying to SAY.
The clouds like plugs is not the worst line Moore wrote. The sequence in the hospital from the last trade that I read where there’s the extended comparison between hospitals and plant life is worse, damn it.
And the description of the Justice League from that sequence is godawful too as I remember it (“a man who moves so fast the whole world is statues” — wasn’t that it? That was really bad.)
But — VM you missed the whole point about Woodrue. He doesn’t *think* he’s a plant. He actually *is* a plant. That’s the whole point. That’s why it’s cool.
Oh well. I’m kind of pleased that you and Suat are joined in disaffection. Nice to see the battle lines redrawn occasionally….
Oh, and Voodoo is probably the worst thing Moore ever wrote, alas….
VM obviously hates SOTST far more than I do. Hooray for her! What was the “something else” you tried from Alan Moore, VM? I suspect that Wildcats spin-off is not a true measure of the man.
I mean, the worst comic series, not the worst line of prose, which we were discussing in the previous posts….
I think the clouds and cotton wool is Woodrue’s line.
Did he write lyrics for the Doors?
I think we can cut Moore some slack for his purple, overripe prose.
His generation (the same as mine) was weaned, in adolescence, on the comics scripted by Roy Thomas, Steve Gerber, and Don McGregor– each more lurid than the next. It’s easy to ridicule, but it does work: it contributes to the general atmosphere, and it serves to slow down the reading experience (something desirable in a horror tale.)
And Alan Moore himself has mocked his then-excesses.
Personally, I’m annoyed by the visual aspect of these captions. They’re tautological, betraying a lack of faith in the artist.
Far more interesting to evoke the non-visual senses, such as smell,sound, and touch. I’m sure a swamp has a very rich range of smells to evoke.
I don’t think we need to cut him slack necessarily. I mean, if it doesn’t bother you much, it doesn’t bother you, but I think it’s reasonable to decide with VM that it’s off-putting enough that you don’t want to read it.
That’s not my reaction, of course. I think the prose is sometimes bad, but not bad enough to ruin the series’ other pleasures.
Moore’s purple prose never really bothered me and still doesn’t. Sometimes it’s completely unnecessary or repetitive–sometimes there’s some good imagery in there–
The only part that ever really got on my nerve was when he was trying out poetic-style “refrains” in certain episodes. “The sounds of the hammers can never stop”–“Their anger in darkness turning”….
That always took me out of the story, thinking, “please hammers, stop already”–and so kind of ruined some individual issues. He mostly gave up on that kind of thing pretty quickly though.
The other Moore I’d read was Miracleman. I didn’t dislike it, per se, but I didn’t really like it, either.
The bloody cotton wool line is written in somewhat waffly POV, I think. I assumed it was Dr Woodrue, then decided it was Abby, then decided it was the narrator. I’ll have to go back and double check. I found the narrative POV somewhat unpleasantly clunky at times.
Woodrue did think he was a plant, though, and wasn’t one, because he went to all that trouble to free Swampie, then become one with the greater green, etc. Also, he doesn’t act like a plant, dammit. He’s just plant on the outside.
I agree that the narrative really could have done more with the other senses. Swamps are wonderfully loud, sensory rich places.
VM, hopefully you’ll try out later chapters in the series, where the purple prose was kept to a relative minimum. The way I remember it, after Bisette & Totleben left Moore pretty much streamlined his writing.
DC reprinted in black & white the first few years of Moore’s ST in floppy format as part of the “Essential Vertigo” line. Totleben & Bisette’s work looks wonderfully creepy printed that way, even better than the original. DC used better quality paper which brought out details not discernible in the original color printings.
Is Moore’s run great? No, definetly not but it certainly has plenty of charms to it. It’s held up to repeated scrutiny even after all this time. That certainly can’t be said of the rest of the mainstream from that time period, Roy Thomas, and Steve Gerber included.
Fools! Ye must not blaspheme against the Great Alan Moore – the most awesome of all writers! He remaketh the Swamp Thing and Marvel Man in his own image! He inspireth the Gaiman and the Delano! He gave forth the Killing Joke! You are not worthy to read his smallest caption! Kneel in contrition and beg forgiveness lest he strike ye with his magickal many-ringed fingers!
The imaginary snake…it’s…it’s got me! Aiiiiieeeeee!