Saga of the Swamp Thing #23 -- general thoughts

 

A brief (re)introduction. Two friends of mine, Brad & Lisa Gullickson, hosts of the Comic Book Couples Counseling podcast, are doing a patreon exclusive issue by issue read-through of Alan Moore's Saga of the Swamp Thing, Gallivanting Through the Green. Always up for a re-read of Moore's Swamp Thing, I decided to use this as the impetus to return to writing, at least sporadically. I used to write about comics for a now defunct site, The Pulse, and also self-published some of those pieces, with some prose and comics work, in Warrior27: the Comics & Prose anthology, with my friend, Dan Fleming, and a host of great artists.

Alan Moore has been my favorite writer of comics -- and depending on the day, my favorite writer, period -- since I first read "The Anatomy Lesson," in the original Saga of the Swamp Thing trade paperback, back in 1987. This run, which I did not complete until years later, because DC did not fully collect it until even more years later -- between 2009-2011 -- has always held a special place in Moore's pantheon for me because it was the first of his works I read while also being the major work of his I’m least familiar with. For a long time, I've wanted to take a deep dive into this series so that I could properly situate it in my mind, as far as where it stands in Moore's oeuvre. And this seemed the best time for that.

So, here are some thoughts on the latest issue for the series, #23, "Another Green World." I hope you enjoy. 

I did not read Jeff Lemire’s run on Animal Man (which was part of the New 52 initiative, I think?), but I was aware that Lemire was utilizing the concept of “The Red,” which I related to Moore’s concept of “The Green” from this run of Swamp Thing. Other than that, I know nothing else about it. 

So, it was interesting to read Swamp Thing’s opening monologue of this issue where he puts forth the idea that “there is a red and angry world…[where] red things happen…[a world that] eats all the things…that make you human…” It reminded me of Geoff Johns taking Alan Moore’s throwaway line about a “blackest night” from a short Green Lantern story Moore wrote and crafting a huge crossover event from it. 

(Doing some quick research online, it appears that Grant Morrison introduced the concept of “the red,” though they used a different term, the morphogenetic field, which got pushed aside later)

As we continue through Swamp Thing’s inner monologue, with some lush artwork from Bissette & Totleben showcasing the green world within which the swamp being’s consciousness now lives, we find out that he is now at peace, now happy, even after this red world took everything away from him, his wife, his life as he knew it, his humanity. But, there is something infecting the green now, something that does not belong, something red. And on page 3, we see it in the form of a red growth with dozens of branches leading off from it. The contrast of this bright red hammers home the reality that this is some sort of cancerous growth. After the soft greens and blues we have watched Swamp Thing float through, the red infestation (red being a color that symbolizes an emergency or a need to stop) is like a beacon, warning us against the evil that is here.

On page 4, the look on Woodrue’s face as he approaches the two boys who remained in the station wagon is terrifying. The shading, the facial expression, the foreign aspect of his woody, plantlike face, all combine to evoke terror. And the little barbs that stick out from his lower lip and around his face only add to that sense of menace. Again, masterful work from all the artists involved. 

One of my favorite indy comic artists is Frank Santoro. He also wrote about comics, as well as taught comic art theory. One of the things he discusses is how each page should have a focal point in the center, an image that is the whole point of that page. Like all rules, it’s made to be broken, but on page 6, Bissette & Totleben utilize this idea to great effect. The third boy is running from the station wagon where his friends now lie dead. His attempt to escape falls along the left side of this page. In the third panel, we see him looking back, and he fails to see the vines and branches coiling in anticipation of entrapping him. The entire center of the page — drawn at an angle to heighten the tension and the bizarre nature of what we are witnessing — is a single image of these branches and vines wrapping around the arms and neck of this boy as he is lifted from the ground. (the angle of the drawing also injects the static image with movement, up and away to the right, as we look at it). The right side of the page is then given over to Jason Woodrue, the Floronic Man, approaching the hanging body of the boy as his life is choked out, ending on a closeup of Woodrue’s face as he stares up, his eyes vacant, cold, terrifying. 

Again, the art is top-notch here. So good!

Page 8 shows us another example of the exemplary artistry of Bissette & Totleben. As Abby walks through the woods, in search of Swamp Thing, she comes across the boy who was just killed by Woodrue, hanging in the tree branches above her. The three panels at the bottom of the page, where Abby realizes what she is looking at are laid over each other. Each panel gets larger as we pull in closer to her face, and the panel borders of the second and third panels are progressively angled off-center until she finally sees the body dangling from the branches, as her mind tips over into horror. 

Once more, the art is doing a lot to enhance Moore’s story here. The angling of those three panels is metaphorical, symbolizing Abby tumbling into fear, but it also imbues the scene with anxiety because the panels are drawn in a manner that is atypical for a comic book, urging readers to understand that something is off here. 

pp. 10-11: 

The layout and artistry on these two pages – which are printed side by side in my original collected edition – is astonishing. The use of extreme closeups on the eyes of Swamp Thing and Floronic Man on successive pages is engaging and sends a chill through you. It also reinforces the connection between these two creatures. They are both in “the Green” now, and having the focus of both these pages be a closeup of their eyes, respectively, that crosses the entire page is some next level work. 

And the use of Swamp Thing’s face as part of a panel border is genius, and something that Bissette, Totleben, Vietch, et al. do on a regular basis. The fact that the panels it encompasses are Swamp Thing’s memories of regaining consciousness to find and read Woodrue’s report on him only heightens the emotional resonance of the scene. 

While on the following page, the panels beneath Woodrue’s eyes relate the destruction of the town of Lacroix, as he watches. These panels are both tragic and terrifying, with Moore’s matter of fact captions only adding to the horror. Masterful stuff.

An aside: 

The Floronic Man has never been this menacing or this terrifying, and likely never was again. Moore, with his artistic collaborators, has taken this minor, forgotten character and made him a terrorizing villain that all should be scared of. 

On page 13, Woodrue, after alerting the citizens of Lacroix when he destroyed the centers of the town, in the form of the school, church, and police station, he orders some of them to return to their homes. Woodrue then seals them with growths of vine and moss and stimulates the photosynthetic processes of the houseplants to hyperoxygenate the homes. This causes the people inside to become excited and nervous, and when one of them lights a match for a cigarette, it ignites a conflagration that destroys all of those homes targeted by Woodrue, and it is bathed in red. This is chilling — and inventive on Moore’s part — and is something that stays with anyone who has read this series. This is what Moore does so well. He takes the tropes, in this case the villain terrorizing a town, and makes it something wholly unique that shocks readers while also making them think more deeply about the narrative they are reading. The Floronic Man is not using his brute force, like any other comic book villain, he is utilizing his unique powers to terrorize and murder his way through this small town, and it’s chilling. 

Abby is running for Alec (Swamp Thing), as the vines chase her. She is calling his name, begging for his help, while in his subconscious, Swamp Thing is coming to the realization that Woodrue is the one who has taken everything away from him. Woodrue wrote the report that proved he was no longer, and never had been, Alec Holland. And now, Woodrue has infested “the Green” with his red mind, not allowing Swamp Thing to just be a plant. These two converging realities come together on pages 14 - 15, and we can tell, whether consciously or not, that a major change is about to occur. Page 14 has 6 panels stacked one on top of the other in an orderly fashion, while page 15 has 6 panels that twist from horizontal to near vertical, as they all recede toward a common point up and to the right. The irregularity of these angled panels indicates that something is amiss (this sounds like a common refrain, here), again heightening the anxiety and unease imbued in this scene. Abby is frantic, calling for Alec, clawing at his prone body, screaming that she “can’t hold on.” And then…

Page 16: 

Holy crap! This full page image of Swamp Thing returning to consciousness is amazing. You can see him lifting his body from where it was rooted, the greenery stretching and tearing as Swamp Thing rises up, while Abby pulls back, her frame small, as the surprise and the size of him causes her to cower in fear. It is unexpected and overwhelming, and awesome.  

On page 20, a woman in the town asks the Floronic Man to stop, “No more. Please.” He is incensed. “No more?? Did you say “no more” when you and your fellow hamburgers were stripping the land bare?? When they dipped their chainsaws into the tender flesh of my people? Did you say “no more” then?” We can see that Woodrue has a point. Humans are killing the world, killing “the Green.” Of course, his approach to fighting this may not be the best option. This scene, which continues to the end of this issue, is bathed in red. Woodrue has completely given himself over to “the Red,” to the human world, even as he has finally touched “the Green.”

And on page 21, we get Moore digging into his wordplay again. He has the Floronic Man declaim to the people of Lacroix that his name, “Wood-rue,” is a fulfillment of his destiny. He is “the pain and the bitterness of the woods!” He claims that “the Green” speaks through him, and has told him to “destroy the creatures that would destroy [them.]” Woodrue claims he is “the regret and anger of the forests…” Judgment day has arrived. 

Except…Swamp Thing has also arrived. He calls to Woodrue, who turns at his name, fear evident in his eyes (Bissette & Totleben are so good). And on the last panel of the issue, Swamp Thing stands tall, filling the entirety of a panel that stretches the full height of the page, while Woodrue stands in the background, small and insignificant. And Swamp Thing repeats what the woman said a few pages back, “No more.” And this time, those words fall like a thunderclap. 

Also, the artwork is breathtaking. The detail in Swamp Thing’s face, in his body, in the growths all across his back, it’s amazing. And the color work of Tatjan Wood, utilizing harsh, fiery reds when Woodrue really becomes zealous in his need for retribution – chef’s kiss. 

So! Damn! Good!

This is not an exhaustive analysis of what Moore & Company were doing in this issue, but it is what jumped out at me and piqued my interest. Some of it (much of it?) may be blatantly obvious, even to a first-time reader. But I hope you gleaned something interesting from my ramblings. And if there are other facets of this issue that intrigued you, share them in the comments. I'd like this to be a dialogue, and I'm always willing to learn more about the Mad Wizard of Northampton.

Until next time!

chris

Saga of the Swamp Thing #23 -- Alan Moore's scene transitions

 

A quick (re)introduction.

In 1987, I walked into my local bookstore and found a collection of comics -- "Saga of the Swamp Thing." It was a book full of comic issues, something I'd not considered or known existed in those early years of collecting and reading comics. Amazing! After reading the first reprinted issue, #21's "The Anatomy Lesson," I was blown away and all-in on Alan Moore as a writer. Years later, after having finally read the entirety of Moore's Swamp Thing run a handful of times, I finally noticed how deftly Moore, with his artistic collaborators, would transition scenes, something I'd not gleaned in previous readings. It was a reality that stuck, like a bur, at the back of my brain. Now, with Comic Book Couples Counseling examining this run, issue by issue, on their podcast, I've finally decided to dig in and examine these transitions (while also writing a second post with general thoughts on each issue). If this is your first time reading Swamp Thing, I hope this bit of analysis will help expand your understanding and appreciation of this seminal work in western comics. If this is your tenth time reading, I hope that I might offer something new for you, as well. Regardless, I thank you for stopping by, and please feel free to add to this discussion in the comments. I realize there are likely things I have missed and would love to be apprised of those. 

Enjoy. 

Saga of the Swamp Thing #23: "Another Green World"

Transition pp. 3-4: 

Swamp Thing is traveling through the Green, in search of something he can sense has infected it. On page 3, when Swamp Thing finally comes across this foreign substance, in the form of a red growth, he muses, “There…” 

Transitioning to the real world on page 4, we have a teenager yelling “There!” as he points out the back of the station wagon, claiming he saw a guy in the darkened woods who had “leaves on his head.” 

This transition has a simple use of parallelism, with the word “There” connecting the two scenes. 

pp. 6-7: 

Moore utilizes the exact same connection, the word “There.” 

Page 6 ends with Woodrue looking up at the third teenager, who had returned to the station wagon to find his friends dead from strangulation by vines and tangled branches – activated and controlled by Woodrue – as this final boy hangs above him, killed in the same manner. Woodrue is satisfied, “There,” that he is dead and this slight detour for him is over. 

Page 7 has Swamp Thing continuing to probe the Green, examining the red mind, which is Woodrue’s mind, and commenting “There…something cold and ugly, brushing against me…” as he sees what Woodrue is doing, reading his mind, for lack of a better term. 

Simple parallelism utilizing the same word to connect the scenes, again. 

pp. 7-8: 

On page 7 Swamp Thing is trying to remember who Woodrue is, having gleaned the name attached to the red mind through his probing. Is it the man who drank a lot (Matthew)? No. “[That's] Not Woodrue.” But that man “had a wife…[with] white hair like an avalanche…A-bi-gail?” 

 At the top of page 8, we switch to a scene with Abigail driving down the road, and the caption, “Abigail,” which continues Swamp Thing’s thoughts, opens the page. 

Again, simple parallelism through the use of the same word, Abigail, to connect these scenes.

pp. 9-10: 

On page 9, Abigail has stumbled upon the dead teenagers, and in her fear she begins to run. It appears that the undergrowth is still alive with Woodrue’s influence and is stretching up to entangle her, but is this literal or figurative – it is hard to tell with this series, but that only enriches the narrative. She runs for her life and calls for a friend. “Alec!” 

Page 10 returns to Swamp Thing, where he thinks to himself, “Alec. I knew an Alec once…Was that Woodrue?” 

Simple parallelism, connecting the scenes with the same word, Alec. 

pp. 10-11: 

Swamp Thing is remembering waking in Sunderland’s building and finding the report that explained how he was no longer, and never had been, human. Reliving that memory, Swamp Thing comes to remember that “...the author’s name was…” 

“Woodrue,” as the thought is continued onto page 11, where the scene has switched to the town of Lacroix, where Woodrue has gone to terrorize and extort humanity. 

Parallelism again, but not as one-to-one as the use of the same word. This time Moore has Swamp Thing reach the conclusion of who authored the report on him without saying his name on page 10, only to continue it on page 11 with the caption, “Woodrue,” where the scene has shifted to the real world and Woodrue himself.

pp. 13-14: 

Page 13 ends with a caption, “Woodrue,” over the evil face of the Floronic Man, and this carries over to page 14, continuing the inner monologue of Swamp Thing with, “It was Woodrue’s name…his name on the notes.” 

Again, simple parallelism, with the repeat of Woodrue’s name. 

pp. 17-18: 

Swamp Thing has finally uprooted himself and returned to the land of the living, to the red world, and he has finally acknowledged that he is no longer Alec Holland. At the bottom of page 17, Abby is following Swamp Thing out of the swamp, because “she doesn’t want to be out on her own…”

This thought is continued on page 18, “...not on a night like this.” And this caption is placed over an image of the boy from Lacroix – who was forced to videotape the conflagration of his town and then bring it to the authorities – as he walks, alone, to the police station in Chenille. 

This time, Moore’s connective tissue between scenes is slightly deeper. The overarching text of not wanting to be out alone on a night like this is placed over a scene of Abby following Swamp Thing out of the swamp after experiencing the horror of being terrified and attacked because she was alone, while the boy is approaching a police station after having watched his family die and being forced to walk alone, through the night, to find help. Their horrors and solitude are paralleled, while the description is stated over the panels. 

pp. 19-20: 

Luther Galen, a police officer who watched the videotape the boy from Lacroix brought to the police station, is chopping down a large tree in his front yard because of the fear he has, after watching what the Floronic Man can, and threatens to, do. The caption at the bottom of page 19 reads, “The job took a long time.” 

This thought continues on page 20, “In fact, it seemed to go on forever.” This caption is placed over a panel of a woman yelling at the Floronic Man, “No more. Please.” She is asking for the terror to stop, for it not to go on forever. 

This connection is a bit more artistic, as both of these scenes involve the main players wishing for the terror, the fear, to end, to not go on forever. 

This issue's transitions weren't as subtle or artistic as Moore's in previous issues, but I still hope this enlightened or at least entertained. I should have some general thoughts up within the next day, and I will be back in a couple of weeks with a similar look at the scene transitions for issue 24. Until then, keep Gallivanting Through the Green with CBCC Podcast. And thanks. 

ADDENDUM: After posting this piece, I returned to the idea that Moore wasn't as subtle in his scene transitions this issue. The majority of the transitions involve using the same word or character's name, while one more involves a line of thought that leads to a character's name. It feels like Moore must have done this intentionally (though, of course, the specter of a monthly deadline could also have contributed, but this is an Alan Moore-stan account, so we go with the intentionality theory). 

One thing that readers come to understand throughout this issue is the newfound connection between Swamp Thing and Jason Woodrue, the Floronic Man, through their connection to "The Green." Part of the narrative is spent in Swamp Thing's mind as he searches for the new mind that has infected the Green, Woodrue. One way that Moore, Bissette, and Totleben highlight this connection is during a succession of two pages where the middle of one page has an extreme closeup of Swamp Thing's eyes, which stretch across the width of the page, while the next page includes a similar extreme closeup of Woodrue's eyes. In my collection, these two pages face each other, so that the connection is made eminently clear by the fact that they can be viewed side by side, at the same time. I would contend that Moore's "simplistic" approach to the scene transitions in this issue is another way he worked to accentuate the connections between characters in this issue. 

The first two scene transitions -- which shift from Swamp Thing to Woodrue and then back to Swamp Thing -- utilize the word "there" to connect each of these pairs of scenes. Just having that single word connect up scenes between these two plant beings, with each of them uttering the word either aloud or to themselves, shows, in an elementary way, how similar, or connected, they are. 
We then have a scene that transitions from Swamp Thing's inner consciousness to the real world, and Abby Arcane, and then we transition back from Abby to Swamp Things' inner monologue and journey. In the first transition -- from Swamp Thing to Abby -- the scenes are connected by Abby's given name, "Abigail." Then, when we go from Abby back to Swamp Thing, it is the name "Alec" that connects the scenes, for Alec Holland, the scientist who became Swamp Thing. These two characters, Swamp Thing and Abby, have become close since he became a swamp creature, and especially since Abby's boyfriend, Matthew, has become distant, Abby has felt more affection for Alec. Moore's use of their names being repeated over the scenes to connect is a consummate approach to reinforce their blossoming connection as characters. 
And the final transition that utilizes the same word is a shift from Jason Woodrue to Swamp Thing's inner journey. This time it is the name, "Woodrue," that connects the scene. Again, by using the simple device of a repeated word over two connected scenes, Moore -- in my opinion -- is emphasizing the connection between these two characters, and it works really well. 

chris

Saga of the Swamp Thing #22 - general thoughts

 

A brief (re)introduction. Two friends of mine, Brad & Lisa Gullickson, hosts of the Comic Book Couples Counseling podcast, are doing a patreon exclusive issue by issue read-through of Alan Moore's Saga of the Swamp Thing, Gallivanting Through the Green. Always up for a re-read of Moore's Swamp Thing, I decided to use this as the impetus to return to writing, at least sporadically. I used to write about comics for a now defunct site, The Pulse, and also self-published some of those pieces, with some prose and comics work, in Warrio27: the Comics & Prose anthology, with my friend, Dan Fleming, and a host of great artists.

Alan Moore has been my favorite writer of comics -- and depending on the day, my favorite writer, period -- since I first read "The Anatomy Lesson," in the original Saga of the Swamp Thing trade paperback, back in 1987. This run, which I did not complete until years later, because DC did not fully collect it until even more years later -- between 2009-2011 -- has always held a special place in Moore's pantheon, for me, because it was the first of his works I read while also being one of the major runs of Moore's that I've read the least. For a long time, I've wanted to take a deep dive into this series, so that I could properly situate it in my mind, as far as where it stands in Moore's oeuvre. And this time seemed the best time for that.
So, here are some thoughts on the latest issue for the series, #22, "Swamped." I hope you enjoy. 

Page 2: 

This splash page is amazing! Abby & Matt, in searching for Swamp Thing, stumble across his comatose (is that the correct term for a being that is a plant?) body. He has rooted himself into the earth, become one with the green, and give up on life, because he now realizes that, though he contains the consciousness of Alec Holland he can never return to being human, because that is no longer what he is. Jason Woodrue came to that understanding in last issue's monumental story, and now, the Swamp Thing is no more. 

But it's more than just the idea that is set up here. It is the art from Stephen Bissette & John Totleben. It's breathtaking. The way Swamp Thing's body is camouflaged in the broader foliage -- it's likely we readers would not have noticed without the startled reaction from Abby & Matt or the pooled water in his eye sockets and beneath his nose that are part of Swamp Thing's quite distinct profile. Then, once you realize what you're looking at, you can make out an arm (though one that is grown into the larger greenery), and his chest (with tubers pushing up from its surface). Then there's the Will Eisner-esque lettering, with 'Swamp Thing' formed by the moss hanging from a tree branch, and this issue's title 'Swamped' formed in the negative space around the algae pooling in the water beneath Swamp Thing's body. This is a high level of artistry. 

Page 5:

Alan Moore loves wordplay, and he stabs at some of the low-hanging fruit for this issue's narrative when he has Jason Woodrue explain to Abby & Matt that Swamp Thing is "a vegetable." This description has two obvious meanings. First, Swamp Thing, as we discovered in the last issue, is a literal vegetable, a plant being that was infected with the human consciousness of Alec Holland rather than a human who'd been turned into a plant, as was previously believed within the world of this comic. Woodrue is also commenting on Swamp Thing's current emotional state of being, in that he has rooted himself into the earth, stopped reacting to stimuli, and become a vegetable -- in the human sense of the word -- because he has given up on living. He is comatose. A vegetable, as we colloquially call it. 

Pages 7-8:

Half of this issue's narrative takes place within the dreamscape of Alec Holland, or Swamp Thing, and Moore tries to approximate how dreaming feels while still holding onto the narrative thread of the issue. One thing we all understand about dreams is the fact that, though we often know where we are within a dream, that setting -- elementary school, our home, a shopping mall -- never looks like the setting in real life, despite the certainty that our experiences are taking place within that very specific setting. Moore takes that juxtaposition and layers it with symbolism that stems from the Swamp Thing story up to this point. We start at Alec & Linda Holland's wedding reception, watch as Linda disappears into the ground and dies, see Alec given a mud-suit that is merely his Swamp Thing visage, which is then clawed away by Matt & Abby when they try to free Alec from suffocating, only to leave his empty legs as Abby ask, "Where's Alec?" the question haunting Swamp Thing throughout this issue. 

Within this dream sequence, Moore really goes hard on the wordplay and word association. The hors d'oeuvres are made from planarian worms (a metaphor utilized by Woodrue to explain Alec Holland's consciousness entering the swamp's microorganisms); Abby mentions her uncle, Anton Arcane, is here, and Swamp Thing objects, stating he saw the body, that Arcane is dead, but Abby says, "...that was just a plant," (playing on two definitions of plant: the vegetation definition, which describes Alec Holland now, and the idea of a fake -- in this case, body -- 'planted' to turn people away from the truth); as Linda fades away, Alec says he will "...buy a restorative formula!" which is the chemical mixture that caused his consciousness to merge with the swamp plants; as well as the example of the mud-suit, noted in the paragraph above, and the query of "Where's Alec?" which is the narrative throughline of this entire issue. 

Page 12-13:

More wordplay from Moore. When confronted by the giant planarian worms, who are the cooks offering "Eats!" at the top of page 12, and asked if he is Jewish, Swamp Things tells them no, "I come...from Holland." Which is true, Swamp Thing did come from Holland, Alec Holland, as Holland's consciousness, coupled with the restorative formula he created, is what animated the Swamp Thing. These "plain aryan worms" offer up a meal of the body of Alec Holland, and they tell Swamp Thing to eat up, "this stuff's real brain food!" which is an allusion to the fact that the swamp's microorganisms ate up the restorative formula plus the residual consciousness of the dying Alec Holland and crafted a creature that became known as the Swamp Thing. Then we get Swamp Thing stating that "...there's nothing left," when there is only a skeleton left. But the worms tell Swampy they've left him the best part, "...the humanity." And they tell him to "Try not to lose it." This is a rather direct metaphor for what has happened to Swamp Thing. He has lost his humanity, or any chance at retrieving his humanity as he'd always hoped, with the revelations from Dr. Woodrue. The skeleton of Alec Holland is an apt symbol of this humanity, and Swamp Thing discards his dead wife, Linda, in order to carry the skeleton with him through this dreamscape, an act that one could argue is an abdication of his humanity, of the empathy and compassion for others that is the highest representation of our humanity. 

Page 14:

Abby's plea to Swamp Thing, to Alec, on this page is beautiful. She wants him to disregard the new evidence that Woodrue put forth in the last issue, she wants him to forget that he is only a plant, she doesn't care about any of that. Abby tells him, "...you are not a damn vegetable...You're human, Alec...you're the most loving, the most gentle, the most human man...that [she's] ever met." It is this idea of humanity -- the compassion, the empathy, the gentleness, the love -- that Abby holds more highly than any scientific ideas of genus and species. It is what's inside that makes the (hu)man, not what's on the outside.

There's another thing that Alan Moore is very good at, with regard to wordsmithing. He is able to utilize dialogue to get to the heart of a character. And at the bottom of this page, Moore shows that ability off with a bit of flair when Jason Woodrue expresses his happiness at Abby & Matt finally leaving and says to himself, "If there's one thing that I despise, it's the sound of steak sobbing." 'Steak sobbing,' is such a great phrase to use here. It shows Woodrue's prejudice against humanity and reinforces his desire to understand life from a plant's perspective. 

Pages 19-20:

These two pages finish out Swamp Thing's dream sequence. He has become tired of the skull and bit of spine (all that is left of his humanity) always nagging him to keep moving keep running. It is the human race, an obvious play on words with race meaning species and race meaning a running competition. This idea of Swamp Thing's (Alec Holland's) metaphorical humanity nagging him to continue seeking what is completely lost finally beats the swamp monster down. He understands there is no resolution where he will regain that humanity. It's nagged at him for too long, now. So, in his dream, Swamp Thing gives up, lying down on the earth in order to root himself there, to no longer fight, no longer run, even as his physical body already has. It is final, Swamp Thing has given over to his new reality, and he does not wish to face it, so he just becomes part of the green. 

Pages 21-22: 

This two-page spread of Woodrue coming to the understanding, the overwhelming understanding, of what it means to be tied into the green -- that it means once is tied into every single fiber of vegetative life across the entire world, from giant Redwoods in California to the "teeming undergrowth of Africa," to a "yellow arctic poppy, up on the slope of Alaska," -- is a tour-de-force by artists Stephen Bissette & John Totleben & Tatjana Wood. The imagery, the colors, the franticness in the facial expressions, and the rending of his fake skin by Woodrue before he smashes through the window of his abode, is all brilliantly conceived and beautifully executed. It's the secret sauce that enhances the amazing writing from Moore and lifts Saga of the Swamp Thing to a new level of comic book greatness. 

This is not an exhaustive analysis of what Moore & Company were doing in this issue, but it is what jumped out at me and piqued my interest. Some of it (much of it?) may be blatantly obvious, even to a first-time reader. But I hope you gleaned something interesting from my ramblings. And if there are other facets of this issue that intrigued you, share them in the comments. I'd like this to be a dialogue, and I'm always willing to learn more about the Mad Wizard of Northampton.
Until next time!

chris

Saga of the Swamp Thing #22 -- Alan Moore's scene transitions

 

A quick (re)introduction.

In 1987, I walked into my local bookstore and found a collection of comics -- "Saga of the Swamp Thing" -- something I'd not considered, in those early years of collecting and reading comics. A book full of comic issue?!? Amazing! After reading the first reprinted issue, #21's "The Anatomy Lesson," I was blown away and all-in on Alan Moore as a writer. Years later, after having finally read the entirety of Moore's Swamp Thing run a handful of times, I finally noticed how deftly Moore, with his artistic collaborators, would transition scenes, something I'd not gleaned in previous readings. It was a reality that stuck, like a bur, at the back of my brain. Now, with Comic Book Couples Counseling examining this run, issue by issue, on their podcast, I've finally decided to dig in and examine these transitions (while also writing a second post with general thoughts on each issue). If this is your first time reading Swamp Thing, I hope this bit of analysis will help expand your understanding and appreciation of this seminal work in western comics. If this is your tenth time reading, I hope that I might offer something new for you, as well. Regardless, I thank you for stopping by, and please feel free to add to this discussion in the comments. I realize there are likely things I have missed and would love to be apprised of those. 

Enjoy. 

Saga of the Swamp Thing #22: "Swamped"

Transition pp. 6-7: 

At the bottom of page 6, Jason Woodrue is ruminating on Swamp Thing's current state -- that of a comatose plant returning to the 'welcoming green.' The final panel is a closeup of the water-pooled eye socket of Swamp Thing as Woodrue thinks, "How I envy you." 
This leads to the first panel of page 7, which is a borderless panel closeup on Swamp Thing's face (his eyes and nose, specifically). Within the eyes are images of hands holdings wine glasses, with droplets of water plopping across the watery pools that had filled his eyes. The caption continues Woodrue's thoughts, "How I wonder where you are." 

First, we have a mirroring of imagery for this transition, as the pooled eye of Swamp Thing on page 6 becomes a now orange-tinged pooled eye, except there is a hand with a wine glass inside the eye, the opening of Swamp Thing's dream, taking place in his mind, just behind the eye (the symbolism isn't overly deft).
We also have a connective tissue with Woodrue's thoughts. Woodrue envies Swamp Thing, and yet this dream sequence will show us all that Swamp Thing -- and, more importantly, his consciousness of Alec Holland -- has lost. So, this is an ironic commentary on what readers will encounter next. Woodrue's 'wondering where Swamp Thing is' at the top of page 7 is a direct transition, leading readers into this next scene, which reveals exactly where Swamp Thing's mind is at, emotionally. 

Transition pp. 10-11:

Abby is approaching her hotel room, where she hears a woman's voice mingled with her husband, Matt's. Getting closer, she recounts a childhood memory of thinking something was in the bedroom with her as she woke in the dark, only to find that when she looked (as she opens the hotel room door to find Matt alone), she would find "there'd be nobody there," which is the final caption of page 10. 
Abby's thought continues in the first caption of page 11, "Nobody there at all." This is overlaid on a panel where Dr. Woodrue is shining a light in Swamp Thing's vacant eye. Swamp Thing has given himself over to grief and to the green, there is no reaction to the stimulus from Woodrue. The swamp creature's mind is black -- there is 'nobody there.'

The dialogue over the transitioning panels is direct, stating the realities for both of these scenes -- Matt is found alone (apparently), there is nobody there with him as Abby suspected, while Swamp Thing's mind is absent, he does not react to being prodded by Woodrue, there is 'nobody there' in his consciousness, at all. So, while the dialogue is parallel, and almost exact, the images also connect up, but in different meanings of the repeated phrase, "nobody there."

Transition pp. 11-12:

Woodrue is pondering Swamp Thing's new reality across page 11. He had previously mentioned that Swamp Thing had begun to grow tubers, after rooting himself into the swamp, and Woodrue had projected they might be edible. At the bottom of the page, Woodrue sits down to his table, to eat, and cuts into one of these tubers. He was right, as he states in the final caption on the page, they are "perfectly edible." 
At the top of page 12, we return to the dream sequence of Swamp Things. Someone off-panel is calling to whomever might be in the vicinity (in this case, Swamp Thing), "Eats! Come and getcha eats!" 

Moore is utilizing a common transitional technique of his, the use of parallel dialogue. But, as he likes to do, he is not using exactly the same words, as he did above. Here he uses edible (able to be eaten) and eats (something to be eaten) as the connecting pieces. 

Transition pp. 13-14:

Through this dream sequence, Swamp Thing has chosen to take up the skeleton of his human form, Alec Holland, and leave the body of his dead wife, Linda, because the skeleton holds his humanity, and he cannot carry both. At the bottom of page 13, we see Linda sitting at a picnic table with the caption, "Alec? Alec, come back..." laid over it. This plea can be read as Linda wanting Alec to return and take her.
But, as we move to page 14, we see that it was actually Abby speaking to the rooted Swamp Thing. Her dialogue continues in this page's first panel, "Please, Alec, where you are...just come back." She is pleading for the comatose Swamp Thing to return, to fight, to live again. She wants Alec's consciousness to return from its comatose state. 

Moore again utilizes parallel dialogue -- "Alec, come back..." & "Alec...just come back" -- to connect these two scenes, directly. But he also utilizes two different meanings of the phrase 'come back' as well, meanings gleaned from the illustrative context of the panels wherein the dialogue falls. On page 13, Alec is being asked to literally come back to retrieve his wife, in the dream sequence, while on page 14, Abby is pleading for Alec to come back to consciousness, to return to them in a more metaphorical, or at least emotional, context. 

Transition p. 14:

The setting on this page does not change, but we do have a scene transition through the shifting of the point of view from that of Matt & Abby to that of Jason Woodrue. The final panel for Matt & Abby has Abby crying into the mossy growth of Swamp Thing, telling him, "Don't go." Then we shift to watching this couple from the shadows of the tree line, where Woodrue watches and thinks, "They're going. Good." 

This transition is pretty straightforward. Moore utilizes parallel dialogue -- "Don't go." and "They're going." -- to link the scenes. 

Transition pp. 15-16: 

On this page, Woodrue is rueing the fact that he still thinks in an all too human manner. This is why he has been studying Swamp Thing, to possibly discover what is truly means to be connected with the green and to think like a plant. At the bottom of the page, Woodrue thinks, "...you still have something that I want." 
At the top of the following page, we return to Swamp Thing's dream sequence, where Swampy is battling with shadowy forms to protect Alec Holland's skeleton. Swamp Things yells at those clawing at him, stating, "You can't have it..."

Here Moore utilizes converse, or opposite, dialogue to link the two scenes. On page 15, Woodrue is lamenting that Swamp Thing has something he wants, while in Swamp Thing's dream sequence, Swampy is fighting to hold onto what the shadowy figures want. 

Transition pp. 17-18:

Page 17 has Swamp Thing battling the shadowy figures who want to take the skeleton he is holding, want to take his humanity. Swamp Thing tells them they have taken, "Enough! Enough! Enough!" 
At the top of page 18, we shift back to Jason Woodrue in the real world. We get his thought in the caption, "Enough," indicating he is through observing and analyzing, it is time for him to take the leap and try to become one with the green. 

Moore uses one of his favorite techniques, parallel dialogue, with Swamp Thing's "Enough!" mirroring directly Woodrue's "Enough." Both of them want to move on -- Swamp Thing away from his attackers, Woodrue away from his 'meat' thinking.

Transition pp. 18-19:

Woodrue has created a scientific device that will allow him to link up with Swamp Thing. Wires and electrodes are attached to the front of his skull, while a flower (we presume) plucked from Swamp Thing is connected to this machine. Woodrue flips the switch and energy seethes through his brain, through his body. We close in on his face, on Woodrue's eyes, and he sighs. 
Page 19 returns us to the dreamscape of Swamp Thing's (Alec Holland's) mind. Where Swamp Thing is still running with the remains of the skull and spine from the skeleton he retrieved earlier. 

Moore utilizes a visual transition between these scenes, beautifully illustrated by Bissette & Totleben. On page 18, readers travel into Woodrue's mind as he connects with that of the Swamp Thing, and we turn the page to enter Swamp Thing's dreamscape, within his mind. It is visual parallelism. 

Transition pp. 20-21:

At the end of this dream sequence on page 20, Swamp Thing has finally stopped running, has lain down, has given up the pursuit of his humanity. It has become overwhelming and futile, he is, as the caption in the final panel states, "Swamped..." which also echoes the title of this issue. 
The caption from page 20 is from Woodrue's inner monologue, which continues at the top of page 21, where we discover that he is feeling swamped by "alien experience, by new perceptions..." Woodrue had no idea what to expect, and now he realizes that being linked into the green may be more than he can bear. 

Moore again utilizes parallel dialogue to transition between scenes. In this instance, the term "Swamped," which is also the title of this issue describes how both of the protagonists in this issue feels. Swamp Thing is swamped, is overwhelmed, by his pursuit of the humanity he has lost, while Woodrue becomes overwhelmed by the stimulus overload that comes from linking his brain into the green, which covers the entire expanse of the globe. It is all too much, for the both of them. 

Damn, but I can go on. Anyway, hope this enlightened or at least entertained. I should have some general thoughts up within the next day, and I will be back in a couple of weeks with a similar look at the scene transitions for issue 23. Until then, keep Gallivanting Through the Green with CBCC Podcast. And thanks. 

chris