CCCBC: Neonomicon Nos. 1 & 2


by

Monday, October 18, 2010


Welcome to the first official meeting of the Comics Comics Comic-Book Club. Our topic is Alan Moore and Jacen Burrows’s Neonomicon. Originally the idea was to discuss each issue as it was released, but we’ve got some catching up to do, so this time we’ll tackle the first two issues together.

Have you finished the assigned reading?

First, of course, you need to read the comics themselves.

Neonomicon is the sequel to Alan Moore’s The Courtyard, which I covered previously here and here. (Writer Antony Johnston wrote in with an interesting comment regarding some of the fundamental language & layout choices.)

Jog has already written an excellent post about issue 2…

…in which he linked to a flawed but fascinating two-part video on issue 1.

And I didn’t mention it, but the re-reading I am assigning for myself before we get to issue 3 is H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Shadow Over Innsmouth”, which seems to be the main inspiration for Neonomicon so far, just as “The Horror of Red Hook” served for “The Courtyard”.

Okay, so let’s see if this works at all or if the whole idea is a misfire. Here we go:

Alan Moore’s own words. In a recent interview, Moore described the ideas that generated this project. Number one:

I wanted to do a story that modernised Lovecraft – that didn’t rely upon that 1930s atmosphere – and that modernised him successfully, at least in my opinion. I suppose I was also thinking that it would be nice if you could bring some of the naturalism of shows like HBO’s The Wire to the impossible. Because that show has got such believability and naturalism, that it struck me that would be a very good way of approaching something so inherently fantastic and unbelievable as H.P. Lovecraft. That was one of the initial ideas.

Interestingly enough, modernization aside, this idea of adding a level of police-procedural like naturalism is something Lovecraft was already very adept at doing himself. In many of his major stories, including some referenced here, such as “The Call of Cthulhu” and “Innsmouth”, Lovecraft used a variety of documentary-like excerpts from reports, journals, newspaper articles to add an illusory level of objectivity to their otherwise unbelievable proceedings. Moore also seems to be talking about little things like character interactions and relationships, something Lovecraft tended to avoid altogether!

Idea number two:

Another one was to actually put back some of the objectionable elements that Lovecraft himself censored, or that people since Lovecraft, who have been writing pastiches, have decided to leave out. Like the racism, the anti-Semitism, the sexism, the sexual phobias which are kind of apparent in all of Lovecraft’s slimy phallic or vaginal monsters. This is a horror of the physical with Lovecraft – so I wanted to put that stuff back in. And also, Lovecraft was sexually squeamish; would only talk of ‘certain nameless rituals.’ Or he’d use some euphemism: ‘blasphemous rites.’ It was pretty obvious, given that a lot of his stories detailed the inhuman offspring of these ‘blasphemous rituals’ that sex was probably involved somewhere along the line. But that never used to feature in Lovecraft’s stories, except as a kind of suggested undercurrent. So I thought, let’s put all of the unpleasant racial stuff back in, let’s put sex back in. Let’s come up with some genuinely ‘nameless rituals’- let’s give them a name.

It is unclear from the interview whether Moore is talking only about Neonomicon, or also about its predecessor, but it seems to me that he has so far been much more successful integrating the racism of Lovecraft’s fiction into the story as a whole in this sequel than he was in his original prose story.

In a comment to an earlier post, the Mindless One Bobsy suggested that Moore may be “indicating R’lyeh can be found nowhere other than between Lovecraft’s own temples” — that Cthulhu & racism are somehow inextricably linked, and that therefore, “Cthulhu can only get in to places that are bad already.” It remains to be seen if Bobsy is right; so far, Cthulhu’s disciples in Neonomicon display varying levels of personal offensiveness, and while Mr. Beeks makes a few racially charged remarks (such as “Show us some of that black power, huh?” to Agent Lamper), the creeps are at least advanced enough in their thinking not to mind including an African American man and a Vietnamese couple in their sexual games (if that’s the right way to put it!), a prospect that the protagonists of Lovecraft’s old stories would have found nearly as repulsive as the literally demonic coupling that occurs later on. That doesn’t take us or the issue very far, though, and the idea bears watching.

Also, while it may be that Cthuhlu is only able to recruit racists as his disciples, what happens to Brears and Lamper shows that non-racists still have plenty to fear from his team.

The ick factor. Moore again:

So those were the precepts that it started out from, and I decided to follow wherever the story lead. It is one of the most unpleasant stories I have ever written. It certainly wasn’t intended as my farewell to comics, but that is perhaps how it has ended up. It is one of the blackest, most misanthropic pieces that I’ve ever done. I was in a very, very bad mood.

And again:

I was filled with a black rage, and I think it has leaked over into the story. It gets very ugly. I wanted to be unflinching. I thought, if I’m writing a horror story, let’s make it horrible. Let’s make it the kind of stuff that you don’t see in horror stories. Because William Christiansen [of Avatar] had, perhaps unwisely, said: ‘Look, you know you can go as far as you want.’ I just got him to repeat that, and said: ‘So… what, I can show erections? Penetration?’ He said: ‘Sure!’ I don’t know if he thought I was going to do it or not but… yeah, I did. It’s a way that I haven’t written about sex before. It’s very ugly. Jacen Burrows is doing an incredible job on the artwork… it’s dark as hell. But it’s kind of compelling. I went back and read through the scripts, and I thought, ‘Have I gone too far?’ Looking back, yes, maybe I have gone too far – but it’s still a good story.

The climactic section of issue 2 is indeed dark and extremely rough. In fact, it has driven at least one popular comics blogger to publicly give up on Moore’s comics. For that matter, Moore himself seems a little uneasy about the story. (Jog dug up a few similar quotes from him here.) Rape and sexual exploitation has been a recurring theme throughout Moore’s work, from Watchmen and From Hell to LOEG, Lost Girls, and even Top 10. This may be the furthest he’s ever gone, though.

Because of his past public concerns over the issues involved, I assume he’s leading somewhere, but it is interesting in this regard to note how insistently Moore reminds us of Agent Brears’s sexual addiction and history of promiscuity. (And also for the apparently gratuitous multi-page undressing scene in which Brears and Lamper show a surprising level of comfort in her nudity in front of a colleague.) This is all a lot closer to the reactionary punish-the-sexually-active woman found in typical slasher films than one would expect. What exactly is going on here?

Vertical vs. horizontal paneling. As discussed in my previous entries on The Courtyard, and in the aforementioned video crit from AllyourbasicGerard, the panel layouts in both books are laid out in extremely rigid grids. Every page of the first book was divided into two vertical panels, and most pages of the sequel are divided into four horizontal units. In my opinion, the second is far more effective, and the restrictive nature works here in a way it didn’t in the earlier book. Am I imaging things? Interesting how it follows the recent trend in widescreen paneling, too.

Clever, subtle storytelling. Moore is always good with this, whether obliquely revealing that FBI honcho Perlman must have lost a hand to a maniacal Sax, or coming up with a nearly seamless, believable reason for Agent Brears to be forced to remove her contact lenses and find herself near-blinded in issue two’s climax. From that moment on, Moore and Burrows successfully conjure a genuine sense of dread and horror that is relatively rare in comics, whatever the genre. The blurred panels representing Brears’s distorted vision are the kind of casually tossed off innovation that Moore offers even in minor books, such as the truly original and startling use of 3D in The Black Dossier.

The Lovecraft punning curse. As in The Courtyard, Lovecraft territory continues to inspire awful elbow-poking in-joke humor, such as the band’s lyrics: “I want my thing on your doorstep/ my haunter in your dark.”

Metafictional ambitions? Speaking of which, near the end of issue 1, it seems as if Brears is finally beginning to catch on to the fact that they’re living in a run-of-the-mill Lovecraft pastiche: “Gordon, there’s something weird about this. it’s … see, it’s almost like some big literary in-joke…” By issue 2, she’s figured things out, and Moore uses the opportunity to basically explain Lovecraft fandom and the literary Cthulhu mythos. Taking these literary games a step further than the typical heh-heh-i-said-yuggoth jokes of The Courtyard gives Neonomicon an air of originality that the original lacked.

“Cthulhu fhtagn R’lyeh.” It killed me when Agent Brears conned her way into the cult meeting by spouting this classic phrase, apparently with perfect enunciation. How did she learn how to pronounce it?

There’s a lot more to say, and more potential topics for discussion, but maybe it’s better to leave things there for now. What did you all think?

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35 Responses to “CCCBC: Neonomicon Nos. 1 & 2”
  1. Reading Moore’s words about the lack of restrictions Christiansen granted him with this series makes me think about comics as literature, or some comic creators literary aspirations. I bought the first volume of Vertigo’s “Air” at the Strand and it had a quote from Neil Gaiman on the front comparing it to works of Salman Rushdie and Thomas Pynchon. Obviously the quote is there to help move units and it’s a marketing device designed to appeal a more literary, possibly non-comics-reading market, but it struck me as embarrassing to Gaiman, Vertigo and the creators of “Air,” which is a nice effort, but “Gravity’s Rainbow” it is not. (Side note: In Moore’s “Writing for Comics” he uses “Gravity’s Rainbow” as an example of how novels as a form can be a satisfying entertainment experience because of the reader’s control over the pace they absorb the material). In order for comics to gain more literary acceptance they are going to have to display and explore subject matter that is challenging, difficult and possibly offensive, to their readership, as novelists such as Pynchon, Roth and McCarthy have done; not just claim a right to compare themselves to the work of culture-defining writers. I’m not saying that the final pages of “Neonomicon” elevate the entire form into a level of high art, but I like to see a creator at the professional stature Moore has achieved go to places with comic books that other creators might fear to tread. Even if it is framed in a work of genre fiction. This all makes me wonder if pictures have more power than words, too; if people find difficult imagery harder to process than passages in novels about difficult ideas. I’m very curious to see how, or if, Moore resolves this tale.

  2. BVS says:

    I re-read the first 2 issues, and I still feel Alan Moore’s gone kind of ham fisted with this one. or he’s not really trying any more. but we’ll see.
    the multi page tow cops undressing together scene feels cinemax-esq in a self aware way that is very lame but kind of funny. it’s like the characters are like:

    “yes we know were in this type of comic book,congratulations, your not reading marvel! this is how things works in this world, here is your nudity and your sex jokes”

    but it’s not self aware or pushing it enough to be very funny. is the comic is honestly trying to be titillating, or is it just being too subtle? I feel the same way about most of the dialogue.
    Benjamin, after reading your comment, I couldn’t help but wonder what you could have done with this script.
    then it all takes a kind of horrible super icky turn with the rape. I am left with an impression that this is sort of a challenge to the intended audience, the black t shirt clad “I buy anything Cuthulu” type of nerd.
    “you said you like it horrific, so now it’s going to get real horrific, are you sure you still love this kind of stuff?”
    I felt similar when I read Cormac Mcarthy’s the Road, like this was a challenge/fuck you to all the people who’s tireless consuming have lead to “post-apocalypse” becoming a very predictable, comfortable and marketable genera.
    “you like to fantasize about life after the collapse of civilization eh? OK, comin right up! here’s one, extra black and realistic just like you said you like em, bon appetit!”
    I’m honestly a little surprised Moore cares that much about the subject to want to make a whole 4 issue Lovecraft comic series. by issue 2 he’s already gone well into detail who Lovecraft is not that great of a writer, and how fans consume it despite all the goof ball nonsense they still insist that this is some seriously dark and advanced reading. I wonder where he actually stands on the subject of Lovecraft. is it crap writing that is strangely merchandise-able, or is he a true fan who can justify and explain the appeal? I don’t exactly know where I stand personally.
    I tired reading it in my teen years and just kind of gave up on it. despite the fervent recommendations from friends with tastes I trusted,I found it to be overly dense and dull and just not fun to read, I gave up.
    that being said most of what I know now about the Lovecraft world now comes from the movie adaptations,video games,RPGs,metal records,references on cartoon shows, goofy t-shirts and all the other sometimes charming, sometimes annoying Cuthulu stuff that your average life long comic book shop patron has no doubt been exposed to.
    I know what the stuff is about, but I’ve honestly not read any of the actual stories since I attempted to give it a shot at age 14. the library’s catalog says they have a copy of it, so I’ll take up your assignment and give ol’ Howard Phillips another chance and read The Shadow Over Innsmouth.

    • T. Hodler says:

      Moore has referenced Lovecraft often enough over the years that I am pretty sure he holds his fiction in high regard. His prose is certainly severely flawed (especially in the early years—from “The Call of Cthulhu” on, things much improve) but still thrilling, and of course, incredibly influential. Outside of Poe, probably no single writer has done more to shape the horror genre. (Unless you count Stephen King, who was himself popularizing, and perhaps improving on, Richard Matheson’s approach—but his ultimate legacy is still unclear, really.)

      As for the sex addiction/Agent Brears stuff, I have a new theory that will either look really prescient or really stupid by the end of the miniseries. Moore has said that he wrote this story in response to his dealings with DC over Watchmen. What if Agent Brears is intended to be a stand-in for Moore himself? Her sexual addiction would be akin to Moore’s “addiction” to writing comic books. Like her, he tries to get over his addiction, but the suits who have been screwing him (literally so, in Brears’s case) keep trying to coax him off the wagon, and just do a Watchmen sequel already. (Remember the scene where Perlman hits on Brears?) In that case, the whole ending takes on pretty ominous but obvious allegorical overtones.

      • BVS says:

        that’s an interesting theory.
        Moore really hasen’t been able to just walk away from comic books. his criticisms of the comics industry frustrate me because it sounds like he’s still talking about the comics industry of 1995. why hasn’t he just been having work published by pantheon or some large book publisher? I’m sure the offer is there. He could easily leave the “comics industry” behind him the way Ware, Clowes, Burns,Mazzucchelli and Speigleman seem to have been able to. I think Alan Moore is someone who can write really good superhero comics in his sleep, but he’d like to challenge himself more, and the industry has been willing to pay large sums for his scripts. lately he’s had this curmudgeonly bite the hand that feeds attitude. is it his way of just trying to get people to leave him alone and stop asking for more super hero comics? or is it also partially out of the fact that when he’s tried doing something very different like Lost girls or Voice of Fire, most of comics fandom has has reacted with a yawn?

      • This is an interesting theory, Tim. I’m curious to see how it plays out.

        • If your theory is correct, Tim, then the demon worshipers could represent Corporate America worshiping compromised creativity and financial success? Or maybe they’re the mainstream comic book readership worshiping mutated recreations of Moore’s work?

          • T. Hodler says:

            I’m not sure it works that closely as a one-to-one thing, but both of those ideas have possibilities. If I had to guess, though, I’d say that what with them being blood-thirsty monster-spunk fans, Moore may think of them as something akin to comic-book enthusiasts.

  3. bobsy says:

    Re: my earlier ‘Cthulhu in the bad places’ comment, I didn’t really mean to suggest that racism was the only evil which lurks in the hearts of men that Cthulhu would find suitable to make his home in. It’s just that is one of the markers we’re given to suggest that Sax isn’t going to be the triumphant hero-cop the reader might be hoping for. Other possible categories of squid-welcoming badness might include the moral flexibility of the common or garden sociopath; the cold indifference of the superman; the avarice of the hedge-fund manager; or, horribly, the self-hatred and anhedonic promiscuity of the pathological sex addict.

    However, I also think it’s risky to move away from the thought that racism is one of the core badnesses that Cthulhu and his followers enjoy – the treatment of Lamper by the swingers (‘swingers’ being totally an unfair and inaccurate term to use here of course) is totally objectifying even when the narrative makes it look like he might have been welcome to enjoy a spot of spawning with the rest of the gang. (I suspect he was always intended as a blood sacrifice – the way he is killed is so offhand it can hardly be the first murder to have occurred there.)

    The fact there are people of Vietnamese origin there shouldn’t be taken as a sign of racial inclusivity on the part of the fish-huggers either. I’m going to go on some very dim and poorly-informed memories here, but I think it’s not hugely wrong to say that Lovecraft’s (and the Mythos’) racial taxonomy had some weird-ass Theosophy-derived ideas underlying it, so it wasn’t ‘whites v. everyone else’ but rather ‘everyone vs. the Semitic & African bloodlines’. ‘Aryan’ is a word derived from Asia, the Indian caste-system and Japanese Imperialist Structure were looked upon as fine models of social organization by Hitler etc. I’m sure there is some (possibly pre-)nazi system of categorisation which places Germanic and North European people at the top, with Mediterranean and Asian peoples’ being inferior but OK (as long as they stay put!), and no-one quite as awful as blacks or Jews.

    • T. Hodler says:

      Thanks, Bobsy. Actually, in Lovecraft’s mind, Asians were perhaps the most insidious race of all. This was the age of the Yellow Peril. S.T. Joshi, probably the most prominent living Lovecraft scholar (and ironically, of Indian descent himself — HPL would likely be shocked), has pointed to a 1919 letter in which HPL wrote, “Orientals must be kept in their native East till the fall of the white race. Sooner or later a great Japanese war will take place… The more numerous Chinese are a menace of the still more distant future. They will probably be the exterminators of Caucasian civilization.” References to this future “Asiatic” apocalypse recur in many of his stories, including “He”, “Nyarlathotep” (whom Duk Trinh and Mai compare to Lamper in Neonomicon 2!), and “The Shadow Out of Time”.

      But I’ve kind of made a botch of things in my discussion of this issue. You are certainly right that there are still racialist overtones to the “swingers'” dialogue — I pointed out Beeks’s comment, but there are others — and you are also right that we don’t know what the creeps planned for Brears and Lamper in the first place. They may have intended to rape and murder them from the start.

      On top of that, I’ve confused Moore’s vision with Lovecraft’s. Because, of course, in HPL’s fiction (especially early on — the racism dies away, or at least becomes far less pervasive, as HPL matures), the bad guys were often associated with Asians, immigrants, and “mongrel races”, and the good guys were (rightly, in HPL”s mind) horrified by them. Moore turns that around in “The Courtyard” by having the racist protagonist succumb to Cthulhu’s influence (your earlier comment makes total sense with regard to that story), but seems to be playing a different game in Neonomicon. We’ll see…

  4. DerikB says:

    I haven’t actually finished reading these yet, but… for those of you in the know… is this what good mainstream (American) comic art is like? That is, is this considered good art/drawing/images? Or do we just overlook the art because Moore did the writing?

    I’ve always been skeptical of Lovecraft adaptations/homages that are too visual. One of the great things about Lovecraft’s work is how much he relies on the undescribable and the unknowable. He can describe a creatures crazy language and sounds without actually trying to mimetically represent it with characters. He can give a subjective (from the narrator’s consciousness) description of some kind of monster so that we don’t really know what the thing looks like, just enough to make it scary. Once you start actually showing the monsters, it starts getting much less scary and much more goofy.

    • T. Hodler says:

      I’ve always been skeptical of Lovecraft adaptations/homages that are too visual.

      That’s actually one of the brilliant ways Moore has handled things so far in Neonomicon—at the end of issue 2, the protagonist Agent Brears has lost her contact lenses and can barely see what is going on—the “demon” has yet to be seen clearly.

      Actually, in one panel (already infamous) Moore and Burrows may have overstepped. You haven’t read the issues, obviously, but at the end of 2, a group of men and women are engaged in an orgy with a creature that they have apparently summoned by way or orgone and/or vril energy. In the panel, I am referring to, Burrows has drawn what can only be called a money shot, in which we see the monster’s penis quite clearly. For me, the sheer ridiculousness of this pulled me out of the horror for a moment, but your mileage may vary. (And that ridiculousness may be intentional.)

      • Ha, I personally found the blurring to be a little too cute in playing off of the indescribable nature of Lovecraft’s creatures, although I liked the bit with the penis, given the aggressive porno banality of cultists’ dialogue – it makes sense we’d only clearly see a 1st person dick straight out of adult entertainment. But… what else does the creature look like…?!

        Derik – Burrows would not be a consensus choice, no, in that he is neither particularly close to the shiny digital photorealism attempts that mark a lot of mainstream NA comic art, nor necessarily appealing to everyone who’s into unexaggerated cartoon figures placed in realist space; a few folks I know find his character art to be halting and plastic, and his layouts bland. However, I find him to be appropriate for this project in particular, in that his rather disaffected tone compliments the gradual revelation of powers lurking behind plain reality that’s the core of Moore’s story thus far. It’s not the sort of style that comes across in a cover illustration – I’ve always preferred his wraparound covers for CROSSED and the like, depicting a lot of characters standing around in a wide space committing atrocious acts; his NEONOMICON wraps depict undersea forms just lurking, which is thematically apropos but not terribly indicative of what’s inside…

        • T. Hodler says:

          Well, there’s a fine line between brilliant and cute! I thought the blurring was a nice delaying tactic—we’ll almost certainly see the monster by the end of issue 3—but I’m kind of a sap for that kind of thing. Whereas your weakness seems to be aggressive porno banality, which I am proud to say has no effect on me at all. Ha.

        • I agree with Joe about the blurred vision of agent Brears being cute. I thought it was too convenient to have the character remove her contacts. When the “swinger” lady tells Brears of her friend that lost an eye due to an infection she got from wearing her contacts in the river water seemed forced. I wonder if Moore was too in love with the idea of Brears not being able to see the demon clearly. If this is true, doesn’t it contradict his intent to identify and define the things that Lovecraft chose to leave obscure? If Moore did think that the horror of the scene was enhanced by having Brears be mostly blind to the figures around her I think there could have been a more seamless choice. I can’t think of one right now though.

          • T. Hodler says:

            If this is true, doesn’t it contradict his intent to identify and define the things that Lovecraft chose to leave obscure?

            Well they DID show the spurting monster penis! In seriousness, I would be very surprised if there weren’t more creature reveals by the end of the series. If it turns out that all we ever see clearly are the monster’s eyes and genitals, though, that will be kind of interesting too.

          • You’re right, Tim. There are still plenty of pages left for the water-sex demon to be presented, along with perhaps other creatures. I was surprised to see that image of Cthulhu so explicitly illustrated, one of the covers to “Neonomicon” I think Joe mentioned it was (it’s at the top of this entry).

    • With regard to your question about the value of Burrows’ artwork, whether or not it’s representative of good mainstream comic art, I’d say that it’s adequate. However, I personally happen to love adequate art and think Burrows’ work is totally awesome, especially in “Neonomicon.” He’s not at the same level as some artists who are considered to be the apex of mainstream, superhero comic art, like Frank Quitely, Doug Mahnke, J.H. Williams, or, my personal favorite, Ethan Van Sciver. The rigors of creating art for a comic series generally tend to take their toll on the overall result in the artwork for many artists, and taking that into account, I think that Burrows’ work is efficient in style, consistent, there are no outstanding points of failure to visually inform the reader and I tend to prefer work that is based in cartooning versus using photo reference as a foundation. I think that Moore has the capacity to make artists he works with better. I think he brings out their best efforts because of who he is as a creator and he’s very considerate of the visual aspects of telling a story through a comic book.

      • T. Hodler says:

        I think you’re generally right, Ben, but have you ever read Judgment Day?

        • Touché, Tim. I’ve read the first couple of issues of Judgment Day. While I understand your point about the near-illegible, mind-numbing quality of the art, I have a real soft spot in my heart for the anonymous artists who adopted Liefeld’s style under the Awesome and Extreme banners. I wish Stephen Platt was still in comics. But I digress …

          • Man, did you see SOUL SAGA, Platt’s last-ever comic? It was a creator-owned fantasy swordsman thing at Top Cow in the early ’00s… he’d kind of suddenly gotten extra slick by then, I think Joe Madureira had some influence… very post-BATTLE CHASERS. Only five issues came out, although I think more of it appeared in some European fantasy comic forums…

          • I did see Soul Saga and was sadly underwhelmed. I have a few issues of Prophet which I think are very arty comics. There are panels, er, full-page spreads rather, where I have no idea what I’m looking at, but I love looking at it. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen had a similar impact on me. I’d love to get my hands on Platt’s early Moon Knight stuff, when it looked like he was going to be the next McFarlane.

      • DerikB says:

        I kind of feel like the art is at some kind of netherworld between a more naturalistic style, a photo-referenced style, and a looser cartooned style. It’s like it’s a bit of all of them without really being any… which I don’t like. Crazy photo-realist would be pretty cool. I could see a less slick naturalist style working too. Too cartooned probably wouldn’t be real great… though Josh Simmons can do it for horror, so I guess would work.

        I’d appreciate the art more if it reached more towards any of those styles, but as it is I can’t really appreciate it.

        (Damn I being critically negative today.)

  5. DerikB says:

    Ok, so I read #1. So far pretty banal (though I guess things change with #2), the female cop with drug/sex problems in her past seems too cliche and the way it’s brought up felt really forced and odd. Each time it was brought up (can’t neglect to hammer home the sex addiction issue as much as possible). There better be a good pay-off for that back story (well, you can’t exactly call it a back story, more like a tacked on character flaw).

    The Hannibal Lector-esque meeting scene followed by the meta-commentary by the male cop seemed kind of pointless to me… having your cake and eating it too. The fact that Moore can point out how he’s re-used the concept doesn’t really make it work any better. I’m fine with pastiche and appropriation and borrowing, but at least do something interesting or novel with the re-use rather than just making some meta-joke out of it to point out that you know that we know that you’re borrowing. Moore’s been much more successful with that type of thing in the past (the appropriation, pastiche, re-use).

    • T. Hodler says:

      Barring the Johnny Carcosa mural scene, which I liked, my initial reaction to issue 1 was pretty similar to yours. (Another reason the CCCBC schedule fell apart for a bit there.) It did read somewhat better this weekend when I returned to it after number 2, but it still seems to be mostly a setup and exposition episode.

      • DerikB says:

        The mural scene is interesting as a concept, but I don’t think the art pulls it off. Conveying the creepiness of that kind of two-dimensional weirdness in relation to the diegetic world of the comics is tough to do since the comic is already images in two-dimensions. It needed some kind of stylistic variance to communicate the effect better.

        • BVS says:

          I agree about the mural, issue 1 seemed to have some more clunky moments art wise, I recal the characters describing the aslyum as some very grand and omnious building but to me it just looked like a public library or any other municipal building.

  6. shirsch says:

    I think the idea of using a show like The Wire as a reference point for this is interesting. For one thing, The Wire positions the viewer in an omniscient space – we get to see what the cops are doing, but we also get to see what the dealers and politicians and dockworkers and homeless and educators and etc etc are doing as well. This omniscient position goes a long way in illustrating the show’s idea of the city as an extremely complicated, tangled, interconnected network of institutions and classes and individuals – and the police’s relatively successful efforts to tap into this network and monitor and understand the city.

    Also, while the Wire goes a long way in complicating and subverting the mythologizing of police procedure, forensics, and institutional competence that more mainstream cop shows engage in (CSI, Law and Order, etc.), it still presents a vision of official “authority” figures that are at least in control enough to gather the information/knowledge they are after and then act on it in some way (not always entirely the right way, and often with huge qualifications and within restrictive limits).

    The idealization of professional competency in the role of the FBI agent/police officer/detective/forensic scientist permeates our popular law & order fictions – they are figures that seek narrative knowledge, avatars for the reader/viewer, but they are safe in that role, in control of the situation and supported by a powerful institution.

    Against this pop-cultural background, the sharp turn that Issue 2 takes in the underground cavern was one of the most effectively and viscerally horrifying moments I can remember experiencing in recent media of any kind. We all know the scenario of the undercover agent discovered in enemy territory and saved by backup at the last second, and this tempers the tension of these kinds of narrative situations with a feeling of overall safety. If I remember correctly, Brears references this feeling of safety in the antechamber/changing room to calm Lamper’s uneasiness, mentioning the fact that their FBI superiors “know where they are.”

    But as one of our obscene ritualists points out, Brears and Lamper don’t even know where they are. In contrast to The Wire’s sprawling, omniscient view of an American city, in Neonomicon we find ourselves lost in the shadowy caverns of America. We don’t even know where we are.

    I’m pretty sure the suddenness with which the typical police-procedural tone of the story shattered to reveal something horrible, new, and altogether unpredictable elicited an audible gasp from me. Did anyone else find the abruptness of Lamper’s murder almost viscerally shocking? That old woman wastes no more than a second between finding the guns and shooting Lamper in the head, and she does it so casually. I could almost hear the dry crack of the pistol’s report in the stony confines of that underground chamber. There is no explanations, no expository speeches, no real questioning of Brears and Lamper. Just a quick, casual murder, and those “aggressive porno banalities,” – the banal horror of an unspeakable ritual spoken?

    Also, in the context of horror’s typical play with “obscene space” and occluded vision, I thought the ending to issue 2, like the ending to issue 1, was rather brilliant (so I’m with Hodler vs Jog on this point). Going back to my thoughts on The Wire and law & order fictions – there is an interdependence of vision and mastery/control of the situation. The cop’s job essentially involves getting a clear view of the bad guy’s activities in one way or another. While The Wire certainly frustrates and muddies our moral vision, it’s wide-screen, multi-level portrayal of Baltimore gives us 20/20, clear-edged sight narratively speaking.

    Both issues of Neonomicon so far have ended with a sort of cruel, terrifying visual joke, jokes that seem aimed at mocking the clear-eyed, in-control vision of our police procedurals. So unlike Jog, I don’t find the blurring effect too cute, or even cute at all. I found it scary!

    To a reader/viewer used to his Agent Dale Coopers using supernatural vision(s) to crack a supernatural case, Agent Brears not being able to clearly see the horror staring her in the face (and etc.) proves effectively chilling.

    I am loving this series way more than I thought I would. There’s a certain difference, strangeness, unfamiliarity, and unpredictability to its tone even if not to the narrative itself (though I personally think it applies to the narrative itself) that is really making the book haunting for me. If modern day eldritch horror is the goal, so far so good.

  7. DerikB says:

    Read issue 2… I think I’m with Jog on the blurriness. It’s not working for me. I also find Brears reactions at the end a little… lame? She’s supposed to be a federal agent and she immediately goes all whimpering. There’s a probably untrained middle aged woman holding a gun near her and she doesn’t even make an attempt to fight?

    Moore really likes the bad/cliched jokes, doesn’t he. “LP Hovercraft” or whatever the agent says. That’s so tv sitcom.

    The rigid wide panels really work against the horror at the end. The size of the panels seems to force too good a view on what’s going on. Which I guess goes back to my point earlier about showing too much and it defusing the horror aspect. Isn’t a big part of the horror the element of the unknown, the unseen, or out of sight.

    • T. Hodler says:

      Fair enough on most of this—especially the pun thing—but I wonder if knowing what was coming affected your reaction at all. That’s impossible to determine in hindsight, of course, and obviously others agree with you, so…

      There’s a probably untrained middle aged woman holding a gun near her and she doesn’t even make an attempt to fight?

      Well, she couldn’t see! She isn’t Daredevil, after all.

      The rigid wide panels really work against the horror at the end. The size of the panels seems to force too good a view on what’s going on. Which I guess goes back to my point earlier about showing too much and it defusing the horror aspect. Isn’t a big part of the horror the element of the unknown, the unseen, or out of sight.

      This is interesting, but I’m not sure what you mean. How exactly does the panel shape force too good a view? Burrows and Moore are still choosing what to depict, after all. And obviously horror films are projected at a similar ratio, and that doesn’t stop them from being scary and withholding visual information when necessary. Do you have any examples of what you’re talking about?

      • DerikB says:

        On the panel size: Good point. It’s more the compositions they chose. The umm… wanting to go to film terminology here… the long shots on the people, the inconsistent use of what I assume if the monster’s view. I think perhaps Moore’s desire to show the sexual content full-on got in the way of framing the suspense/horror in a better way.

        On the agent’s vision: even with the blurry, I’d still expect her to try something. Or at least manage some sense of calm. Maybe I expect too much, but she seemed to crumble too fast given the previous characterization.

        The coloring by “Juanmar” is quite effective, particularly in that end scene as the tone shifts more and more blue-green.

    • shirsch says:

      “There’s a probably untrained middle aged woman holding a gun near her and she doesn’t even make an attempt to fight?”

      As Mr. Hodler points out, she couldn’t see. But beyond that, I think your question points towards the general idealization of professional competency in popular law and order fictions that I talked about in my way-too-long comment above. Fringe or Alias trains us to expect the tough lady-agent not to flinch with a gun to her head, and to use some kind of skills gained through training to regain control of the situation. I think that Brears having the opposite reaction, and basically shutting down, goes a long way in establishing the utter strangeness and horror of the situation for me. It’s like she herself is assuming the general safety of the police-figure in enemy territory, and when the situation suddenly no longer conforms to this common narrative she simply can’t process it.

      There’s a kind of vertiginous feeling at work when reading this against the cultural background of cop fictions. We’re on familiar genre ground at first, but suddenly that ground crumbles and we find ourselves above an abyss of unpredictability and strangeness. There’s a kind of pop-culture defamiliarization at work here that I find chilling.

      I can see how this vertigo could be resisted as lame or forced a la DerikB, but I find myself succumbing to it.

      • DerikB says:

        For me it just seems inconsistent with the characterization. Previous to that she doesn’t balk at anything that goes on, even the weirdness with the guy inside the painting doesn’t really faze her. I could see her freaking out after some perception of the monster becomes evident (ie a little further into the scene), but at the point where she breaks down the situation isn’t quite at that point.

        But I think I always have this issue with horror (a genre I almost never read/watch).

        • shirsch says:

          I have to disagree with you regarding the characterization of Brears. She actually freaks out quite a bit after the guy turns out to be part of the mural – she’s freaking out way more than any of the other agents on the scene – stuttering, swearing, looking wide-eyed crazy. Lamper has to attempt to calm her down by pointing out that nobody’s hurt, claiming “Everything’s good” in the last bit of dialogue in the issue.

          So I think her reaction in issue 2 is pretty consistent with her overall characterization. It is only inconsistent with certain genre expectations.

  8. Alistair says:

    Hmmmmm. Now If this is Alan’s Swansong then it’s a pretty bleak and powerful one on the media he is leaving. I must say that both “The Courtyard” and “Neonomicon” as it stands have both, delighted thrilled and horrified me.

    As always Alan has taken our expectations and turned them on their heads, he did it with Marvelman, he did it with Swamp Thing, he did it with V for Vendetta, Watchmen and Lost Girls. he did it with Superman and he’s done it with this. I’m not counting 1963/ABC because they are “classic” Alan Moore, or rather what we would expect from him based on his earlier work. What he’s not done is…he hasn’t disappointed.

    Here we all are sat around in our little forum and there’s a hundred other comic forums out there doing similar stuff ( I know because I’ve been trolling round them), so at least he’s being talked about. Tell me, what other comics author has that distinction? He’s such an iconoclast that we interpret, critique and analyze his stuff before the inks been allowed to dry.Thank all that’s Holy this is a serious, literate forum, no knee-jerk attitudes to just piss me off.

  9. Alistair says:

    As an aside Scott Kurtz has just started running this storyline in his PvP webstrip:

    http://www.pvponline.com/2010/10/22/house-call/

    Go look you won’t regret it and it’s pertinent to this discussion.

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