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

SAGA OF THE SWAMP THING #21 -- General Thoughts

 

Saga of the Swamp Thing #21: "The Anatomy Lesson" 

This is the big one! The book that changed it all -- for Swampy in particular but also for western comics. 

We open with Moore’s purple prose — “It’s raining in Washington tonight. Plump, warm summer rain that covers the sidewalks with leopard spots.” With the caveat of art being subjective, this is one of Moore’s many strengths, to my mind. His words are poetic and smooth. Unlike some comic writers whose attempts at poetic captions become overbearing and can put a halt to the flow of the issue, Moore’s words carry readers along beautifully, adding to the depth of the reading experience. 

With this opening page, Moore and his collaborators give readers the end of this particular issue’s story before we’ve even had the beginning. This technique predates one Moore (as well as other creators) will use in later works. One example being Moore & Dave Gibbons utilizing it to great effect in issue #9 of Watchmen. 

The title of “The Anatomy Lesson” in a body formed by separate sections is a nice tip of the cap to graphic designer Saul Bass, known primarily for his movie posters and title sequences for films. This image directly homages his design work for Anatomy of a Murder.

On page 2, Moore, Bissette, Totleben, et al. are heavily foreshadowing the climax of this issue, as Jason Woodrue recounts, with disdain, how proud General Sunderland was of his office building, controlled electronically from a central computer system, thus allowing for a limited need for security and other personnel. It is the General’s hubris, epitomized by this pride in his technologically superior toys, that will be his downfall, directly linked with this central computer system. 

On page 4, Moore et al. drop the first hint of the major revelation coming later in this issue — the fact that Linda Holland, Alec Holland’s (Swamp Thing’s) wife, who was similarly permeated by the bio-restorative formula that was supposed to have caused Alec to become the Swamp Thing, has no indication of the reanimation her husband experienced. If both were exposed to this formula, but Alec is the only one revived after the explosion, then what is the anomaly that caused that? Why was his fate different from hers? This foreshadowing is accentuated by Sunderland’s admission that the fact she did not survive is not unusual, since “the formula wasn’t designed to affect human tissue.”

As Woodrue works through his autopsy of Swamp Thing, the idea that something odd has happened and some revelation about the swamp monster’s origin is impending becomes more evident as he discusses the organs exhumed from the corpse. They look like human organs, but they are made of plant fibers, they cannot work in the same manner — and do not work in the same manner — as those organs would in a human body. The lungs, the brain, the heart — all useless. 

Foreshadowing. 

Page 8 — we get more foreshadowing for the end of this issue, as Woodrue recounts his meetings with Sunderland while he worked through the autopsy. Woodrue describes how Sunderland would “stroll proudly around that huge and empty tomb of a building.” The word ‘tomb’ is purposeful, hinting at how this will end up being the resting place for Sunderland, in the end. 

Page 9 — Moore et al. give us a metaphorical analogy of Woodrue’s revelation as to what the Swamp Thing is and how he lives, through words (“It was as if the clouds were suddenly blown away.”) and imagery (Woodrue having entered his shower with his faux human skin and the rush of water from the shower head washing away that skin to reveal the Floronic Man beneath, just as the confusion surrounding the Swamp Thing was swept, or blown, away by his intuitive leap). 

Pages 11-12 — This explanation of how Alec Holland became Swamp Thing — that Holland was already dead when his remains fell into the swamp, that microorganisms coupled with the bio-restorative formula acted like planarian worms or cannibals and ate his remains allowing his intelligence to pass to them, and that these microorganisms reconstituted a body as it remembered it, in order to appease the intelligence seething through them, that “it was a plant that thought it was Alec Holland” not Alec Holland turned into a plant, which has been the status quo since the beginning — was mind-blowing at the time and still is. It’s a reinvention of the Swamp Thing that does not invalidate anything that came before, but allows for a new idea and new stories to follow that are more thought-provoking than anything that could have been created previously. 

It also augurs the reconstitution of Jon Osterman’s body into Dr. Manhattan in Watchmen. It’s almost as if Moore were testing out the ideas that would encompass his magnum opus, just a few years later. 

Page 13 — And with Woodrue’s explanation of what the Swamp Thing is, Sunderland cuts off Woodrue before the scientist can offer the ultimate understanding of the entire situation, and Sunderland’s fate, thanks to his hubris, is sealed. Because if he’d allowed Woodrue to continue, he would have learned that you cannot kill a plant with a bullet, meaning Swamp Thing was not dead, just dormant, and that if he awakes and discovers the truth, Swamp Thing may find himself unhappy with Sunderland.

Sunderland also goes on about how being rich insulates him from the need to be intelligent (his shrewdness, to his mind, is enough). Sunderland does not feel he needs to “understand how [his] computer works to know that if [he] push[es] that little button, all the … doors open and close.” Except, as we will find out, if he does not understand how the computer works but the scientist in front of him, whom he is belittling and firing, does, then that computer can be turned against its master, as noted by Woodrue on the following page as we see his fingers play over the computer keyboard while reminiscing about how Sunderland “… left [him] alone with his computer…and [he, Woodrue] understood exactly how it worked.”

In retrospect, it was also purposeful that Sunderland described the computer he used to control the entire building as “no bigger than a checkerboard,” on page 2, reiterated by Woodrue in his derisive recounting of what must have occurred after he left, when he states that Sunderland will punch the buttons “to switch the door mechanisms to manual, so that he can control them while he’s away from his checkerboard.” The intimation of Sunderland playing checkers, a kid’s game, while Woodrue is playing chess, a game played by intellects, plays into the difference between these two and also accentuates the fallible confidence suffusing Sunderland. 

Page 21 — The image of red, as in blood, returns when Sunderland puts his hand to the panel that should allow him to open the doors. That panel turns red, indicating it cannot be unlocked, that there is ‘no exit.’ This is followed by a panel mirroring those on page 1, where we saw Sunderland on the other side of the window before the image became permeated with red, with his blood. 

Sunderland is about to die. 

Page 23 — The final words of the issue, “It’s raining in Washington tonight,” are a reiteration of the first words, a mirror of the opening. 

The imagery, particularly the panel layout, is also mirrored here. On the first page, the first few panels are roughly trapezoidal, with edges parallel to the page border on the left and angled edges to the right. This is duplicated on the final page as well. Also on page one, we started with Woodrue staring out the window of his apartment, sipping wine, then shifted to the images of Sunderland pounding on the glass of one of the windows in his building as he dies, while on page 23, we start with the death of Sunderland and switch back to Woodrue, standing at the window, sipping wine. 

This mirroring of panels, and scenes within the panels, will be utilized again by Moore & Gibbons on issue 5 of Watchmen, where the entire layout of that issue is a mirror image, shifting on the center two-page spread of the comic. 

Stay tuned next time, to see what this new revelation will mean for Swamp Thing, and for his companions.  It’s a helluva ride. 

chris 

SAGA OF THE SWAMP THING #21 -- Alan Moore's Scene Transitions

 

Saga of the Swamp Thing #21: "The Anatomy Lesson" 

This is the comic where most readers began their appreciation of Alan Moore's Swamp Thing (and, likely, Swamp Thing in general). The original trade paperback collection, published in 1987, started with this issue instead of Moore's actual first issue on the title, #20. "The Anatomy Lesson" is related to us through flashback, narrated by Dr. Jason Woodrue, The Floronic Man. Brought in to examine Swamp Thing and discover what animated him, it's a brilliant bit of work by Moore, Bissette, Totleben, et al. 

But that's for my next post. This one is about the scene transitions utilized by Moore and his artistic collaborators. Since this issue is recounted from open to close by Woodrue, it was a bit challenging to find transitions, since, unlike the previous issue, this chapter follows a single, straight narrative thread. But there are a few scene transitions to be gleaned if one looks closely enough, and Moore does not disappoint with his intentionality, in this regard. 

Transition pp. 1-2:

Page 1 sets the stage for the story Dr. Woodrue is about to tell, sharing the end, as he imagines it, before we've even got the beginning. In the final panel of this page, an old man is banging on a window and the image is almost fully red from the blood Woodrue imagines coating the glass, with the caption, "Blood in extraordinary quantities." 
Page 2 opens close in on Woodrue's eyes hanging over the entire page, his eyes blood red. 

Moore utilizes mirroring, as he does in many of his transitions, with the blood red of the window on page 1 matching the blood red eyes of Woodrue on page 2.

The scene from pages 2 through page 5 is basically an interview by Sunderland of Dr. Woodrue. He wants Woodrue to examine the corpse of Swamp Thing and figure out what animated him. It is also imperative for Sunderland to know that Dr. Woodrue is who he claims to be -- The Floronic Man. So, Woodrue uses a spray to dissolve his artificial skin and reveal the woody, mossy visage beneath. 

Transition pp. 5-6:

The final panel of page 5, on the bottom right of the page, is a closeup of Sunderland asking Woodrue, "When can you start?" in reference to his impending examination of the corpse of Swamp Thing. 
Page 6 returns to the present and Woodrue's apartment, where a caption box shares his thought, "I started the next day." 

In this transition, Moore mirrors the dialogue of "start"ing rather than mirroring the imagery, as he did on pages 1-2.

The scene from pages 6 through 9 involves Woodrue performing an autopsy on Swamp Thing's corpse. He pulls out vegetable growths that look like human organs but do not, and could not, perform the same functions as in the human body. It's fascinating and puzzling, and in six weeks Woodrue has the answer. 

Transition pp. 9-10:

At the bottom of page 9, we see a green shoot sprouting from the chest of the gray body of the Swamp Thing, as Woodrue thinks (in the final caption), "...and something strong and soft and green, thrusting through the dead and petrified grayness." 
At the top of page 10, we see Dr. Woodrue coming to Sunderland's office to explain his discovery. Woodrue is wearing a green overcoat or lab coat. 

Again, this transition utilizes mirroring, in this case mirroring the green shoot emanating from Swamp Thing with the green coat of Woodrue. 

This scene, from pages 10 to 13, is the moment where Woodrue explains exactly what happened to Alec Holland, when he raced into the swamps to die, and how it was that Swamp Thing emerged. Woodrue is excited, the ramifications are astounding . . . and Sunderland does not care. He has his answer, though he does not understand it, and Woodrue is done. Sunderland will find someone else to continue the work. 

Transition pp. 13-14:

At the bottom of page 13, we get a close up of Sunderland's teeth, his creased face, and the trail of smoke wafting from his nostril, as he tells Woodrue, "We'll sort out the termination papers when I get back." 
Page 14 opens on a closeup of Woodrue in his true guise of the Floronic Man while, in a caption over the panel, he thinks, "...and that's how the old man fired me." 

More mirroring, as we get Sunderland discussing "termination papers" while Woodrue defines it more colloquially, "firing." But this mirroring of dialogue is not the same as the previous transition in this vein, as Moore uses synonymous phrases rather than directly using the same word, as before. 

The scene from page 14 through to the end of the issue is a recounting (or imagining, on the part of Woodrue) of Sunderland discovering the ramifications of what he, Woodrue, discovered, and the terminal climax that must come from such a revelation. For the Swamp Thing is not dead. But he does understand. And his humanity is lost. And Sunderland will pay. . . 

Transition p. 23: 

Panel 3, in the top row of panels on this final page, ends the scene with Swamp Thing (and Sunderland) discovering the truth of his being. It has a closeup on the dead eye of Sunderland, with a tiny Swamp Thing walking away in the far background. Over this panel is a caption stating what Swamp Thing would do once Sunderland was taken care of -- he would, in Woodrue's mind, go "back to the bayou," where he came from. 
Panel 4 has the caption, "Back home..." continuing this idea and is overlaid on an image of the Floronic Man standing at the window of his apartment, his own home during this experience. 

Moore gets a bit more inventive with the mirroring in this transition, mirroring the captions stating that Swamp Thing would go "back home" with the image of Woodrue standing in his current, but temporary, home. 

For more thoughts on the actual narrative, along with insights into some of the added depth provided by Moore, Bissette, Totleben, et al. for this issue, check out  my next post, which should be up in a day or so. 

Thanks! 

chris