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