I'm Baaaack (with a WATCHMEN Review)!

Wow, has it really been fifteen fucking years since I posted on this blog? Time flies, eh? Hope you've been well.

To what do we owe this momentous occasion? Well, I've gotten together with some fellow Alan Moore enthusiasts on social media to sort of crowdsource annotations for what is most likely the most acclaimed comics series of all time (spoiler alert: it's WATCHMEN).

Yes, we're aware it's been done before (more than once!). No, we don't have any guarantee that our version will be any better or any more definitive than previous versions, but I think it's fair to say that we're having a lot of fun trying; I, for one, am having a blast reigniting the Moore-loving sections of my brain after leaving them dormant for far, far too long.

So what's this particular blog post about? Well, in the process of gathering various comics/Moore-related materials for said annotations (most of which, much like this blog, having been gathering a bit of dust, I'm afraid), I came across my copy of the excellent Slings & Arrows Comic Guide, which contains my very favorite review of WATCHMEN (by one Fiona Jerome), which I thought I'd share here. I think this one really highlights what makes this particular series so special. It's presented below in its entirety as it appeared in the print edition of the book, with a couple of minor typos corrected and links added.  Enjoy! (PS An updated WATCHMEN review by Jerome, which discusses in part why the comic succeeded where the 2009 Zack Snyder film adaptation failed, can be found here.)

***

WATCHMEN

DC: 12-issue limited series 1986-1987

It's several years since costumed adventurers had their heyday. An Act of Congress outlawing vigilantes has put a stop to their role as enforcers and moral avengers. Some, like the shy, retiring Nite Owl, and Ozymandias, the smartest man in the world, have mothballed their cowls and gone quietly. Some, like the Comedian, a wisecracking warmonger, and Dr. Manhattan, a scientist irradiated in a freak accident, have returned to the warren of counter-intelligence agencies and government projects whence they came. Others, like the sociopathic Rorschach, have carried on a one-man crusade against crime. When the Comedian is killed Rorschach is the only one who senses that time is running out for his old team-mates; in fact, time is running out for everyone.

Watchmen looks long and hard into the dark corners of the superhero psyche. It asks what kind of people want to dress up in funny costumes and beat the shit out of villains. It examines the practical ramifications of a traditional superhero story dynamic, where a character like Dr. Manhattan, who can control matter and exists in serial time, where past, present and future are laid out in front of him like frames in a film, brush up against cheerful boy-scout vigilantes who just want to help people and guys who get a kick out of dressing up and doing violence. And it looks at why society might condone and support this behaviour, and how the presence of such people, from ordinary thrill-seekers to god-like beings, affects that society. Writer Alan Moore examines each character one by one, peeling back the layers slowly, turning over the familiar elements of the superhero team until all their glitter has rubbed off. Each one becomes a real person (or a real demi-god) as they slowly reveal their deepest anxieties. At the same time he writes an intriguing murder mystery that works on multiple levels and leads into a massive conspiracy, as the Comedian's old comrades (many of whom hated his guts) begin to wonder if there's something going on behind the scenes. There's also a counter-plot in which a young boy is reading a strange pirate comic whose psychological story points up the horrors being faced by the 'heroes', and additional information in the form of memoranda, features and newspaper reports at the back of each issue.

The telling of much of the story is left to the pictures. Not only does Dave Gibbons create a cohesive world, subtly different from our own, he also builds up a web of symbols and icons around which the story is built. His clean, detailed style is perfectly suited to a story that shakes up how we look at superheroes forever, because it's exactly what we expect a good superhero comic to look like. Nothing is taken for granted in Watchmen. The view down a street behind a character's head is there for a reason, and is consistent with a view from the other end of the street shown eight issues previously. If only all comics were crafted and polished like this.

Originally supposed to be a reworking of old Charlton characters whose rights had just been bought by DC, Watchmen had a huge impact when it was published, and although it didn't generate many direct imitations (too much like hard work, one suspects, more's the pity) it altered the whole approach to superhero comics taken by many writers, encouraging them to deconstruct the myth of superbeings. It remains a superb read that will keep you on the edge of your seat, while enriching your understanding of humanity.-FJ 

Recommended: 1-12

Collection: Watchmen (1-12)

"As long as I get my huge, cripplingly heavy book to put on my shelf and gloat over, then I'll be happy."

Big Al talks to the New Statesman's Helen Lewis Hasteley about Jerusalem, not having a television, and the end of the universe as we know it. (Hey - it's Alan Moore. You were expecting maybe football scores?)

New Statesman interview with Alan Moore

A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Bohemian

***

I've been looking for a pre-beard photograph of Mr. Moore for a very long time. Many thanks to otium longum for posting.

[It's funny - I thought that without the facial hair he'd be unrecognizable, but there's no mistaking the demonic intensity of that gaze.]

Some Folks Who've Been Kind Enough To Link To This Blog

Quercivorous

Enjolrasworld.com

Jinxworld

Thanks all. I appreciate the exposure.

No WATCHMEN Prequels Or Sequels With Moore's Involvement

Hi. Yes, I'm still alive. How are you?

From zikkir.net:

Alan Moore: 'I Don't Want Watchmen Back'

I'll try to remember to post a link to the Wired interview when it comes out.

Off-Topic: Nice Awesome Universe Alan Moore Comics Previews Available On Google Books

Just came across this and thought I'd post it: I found some decent previews of a few of Alan Moore's Awesome Universe titles at Google Books earlier this evening. Here are the links:

Supreme: The Story Of The Year

Supreme: The Return

Judgement Day

These are definitely worth a look if you haven't had the pleasure - there's a nice Silver Age DC vibe to the Supreme stuff that old school comic book geeks like myself will find especially charming.

(Semi-)Off-Topic: Excellent Steve Ditko Documentary (w/Alan Moore Interview) On YouTube

Thought I'd share a great BBC documentary on eccentric comics genius Steve Ditko that I discovered on YouTube recently.



The Alan Moore interview alone makes it worth the price of admission, particularly his inspired ode to Ditko's Randian superhero Mr. A via a reworked version of the Velvet Underground's
"Sister Ray" (which, incidentally, has had said song stuck on "repeat" in my head for the last week or so).

Off-Topic: "The Architects Of Fear" At Hulu.Com ***Possible Spoilers***

Check out this old episode of The Outer Limits and tell me if it doesn't remind you of the ending of a certain critically acclaimed superhero graphic novel. (Note: If you haven't read Watchmen, you may not want to watch this - it may spoil the ending for you.)




Interesting, eh? (I had actually never seen that episode before today, and particularly enjoyed the beautifully noirish cinematography of Conrad Hall.) Apparently, Alan Moore only noticed the resemblance after he had already came up with the ending. There's a reference to the episode in the last chapter of Watchmen in what Moore referred to as "a belated nod".

Off-Topic: William S. Burroughs Documentary On Google Video

Found an interesting documentary on literary icon/Alan Moore hero William S. Burroughs on Google Video; I thought I would post it in case anyone wanted to have a look.



There's some charming footage of him goofing around with Allen Ginsberg and other friends, which is nice to see - Burroughs seemed to have such a grim affect all the time. Perhaps that was just sort of his default public persona. Then again, Burroughs probably had more to be grim about than most of us.

***

Multi-screen viewing is seemingly anticipated by Burroughs' cut-up technique. He suggested re-arranging words and images to evade rational analysis, allowing subliminal hints of the future to leak through... an impending world of exotica, glimpsed only peripherally.

Adrian Veidt (Ozymandias)
"Look On My Works, Ye Mighty..."
Watchmen

PS The music you hear at the very beginning of the film is from "Another Green World" by Brian Eno.

Vice Magazine Interview With Alan Moore

James Knight was kind enough to post a longer version of his interview with Alan Moore for Vice Magazine over at his Name Me Someone Who's Not A Parasite blog (good name, that), in which The Bearded One discusses Jerusalem, its connection to Voice Of The Fire, and other esoterica (Einstein a theosophist? Getthafuckouttahere). Anyway - worth checking out.

Off-Topic: Howard Zinn, 1922 - 2010

Howard Zinn, Historian, Dies at 87

I read A People's History Of The United States in 2000 and it completely turned my head around. Professor Zinn will be missed - not by everybody, but certainly by me.

Conclusion

Well, that's about it for Deciphering Hob's Hog, believe it or not. I plan on keeping it up on the net (for as long as Blogger lets me, anyway) for those who are reading/writing about Voice Of the Fire, and on putting up occasional posts regarding any news I get regarding VOTF, Alan Moore's "sequel" prose novel Jerusalem (still a work in progress the last that I've heard), and any other Moore-related items I find interesting enough to post. But as the stated mission of Deciphering Hob's Hog is, well, deciphering "Hob's Hog", and said mission is completed, you can consider this blog to be, at present, in semi-retirement. I'll continue to post my reviews at Amazon, and may start another blog in the future (probably through Blogger again, because they're so easy to use), but for now I'm taking at least a week off from doing anything net-related that's more complicated than checking my e-mail. Many thanks to those of you who came along for the ride, especially those who commented. I learned a lot and had a lot of fun - I hope you did, too.

Page 46, Paragraph 4 - 7; Page 47 (Entire); Notes ***SPOILER ALERT!***

***SPOILER ALERT! If you haven't read the end of "Hob's Hog" yet, you probably won't want to read this post, as the ending of the chapter is revealed here. Don't say I didn't warn you.***

Page 46, Paragraph 4:

The girl stands up and takes the clothes off her breasts. The clothing is thick, but her breasts are now really small. White there in the light of the fire, it's like there not breasts at all. The rat-noise becomes a hissing now, and it's warm beneath me and in the hill of branches. There's a lot of smoke rising from it.

Paragraph 5:

The warmth becomes hot on the backs of my legs, and the heat becomes pain - wherever I move my legs, it's hot. I now smell hair burning; it's my clothes; I try to make a noise, to cry out in pain, but my voice has become thick and wet. There's blood on my mouth. There's blood on my chin.

Paragraph 6:

I don't want to be burned to death like this. It's not right. It's more pain than I can take. There's fire on my back, fire beneath my head, and little bright sparks rising all around between all of us and the dark sky. I can't breathe. It's so hot that the girl takes off the rest of her clothes. She's naked. In between her legs is...

Paragraph 7:

She puts her hand to her head, where the frightening tear of skin is, below her hair, and puts her finger to the edge of the skin, where she now pulls and...

Page 47, Paragraph 1:

There's smoke and blood in my mouth. Bright hair falls in the dark, with a scalp falling next to it. Her dick, bigger than mine, that I couldn't smell because of the flowers. I don't have the breath to make another sound. The girl's changed to a boy, as the rat became stones and the pig became logs. It's this change that's in things. It's this frightening change that makes the whole world wrong. Smoke rises and falls like a grey river around me, and the pain becomes as big as the sky. I can't breathe, and my vision darkens.

Paragraph 2:

In the darkness there are many strange things - many little visions hanging in the smoke. I see fiery-haired men that can make fire run like blood from stones. I see a place where human skin falls black from the sky. I see a path that runs from sea to sea, where lights now go back and forth, faster and more numerous than the fish. I see a building like a skull, big, and black, and made of [?] fire. In its mouth sits a man with fire coming out of his hair, filled with pain. Now I see women held to a log, with fire all around their feet. We look at one another from our fires. There's no pain now. Only smoke.*

Paragraph 3:

Behind the smoke I now see dogs with eyes as big as tree-stumps. Now I lift my hand, to hit them away from me, and my hand is on fire. The skin is rising up in blisters and hissing; it's all black underneath. Through the smoke I see Hob. The boy sits by him, the firelight on his short-cropped dark hair. Hob is finding little circles of flattened grey earth, and he has a stick in his hand to mark them. It's not good to make marks.

Paragraph 4:

My hair's on fire, and it comes this way into my head, and into my belly, so that a thought comes into me with the fire. It's not a thought of mine, but a thought of the fire's, full of strange words that no tongue can make. Phror. Becadom, sissirishic and huwf. Hob sits closer to me, to hear. He makes a mark in the grey of the earth with his stick, and now another, across it.**

Paragraph 5:

I open my mouth, to make a noise in my pain, and the voice of the fire comes through me, and rises, and rises, with sparks of light, beneath the old black sky.



*If you haven't read the rest of the novel yet, you're going to want to remember this paragraph.

**Or "across from it"

Page 45, Paragraph 6; Page 46, Paragraphs 1 - 3 ***SPOILER ALERT!***

***SPOILER ALERT! If you haven't read the end of "Hob's Hog" yet, you probably won't want to read this post, as part of the ending of the chapter is revealed. Don't say I didn't warn you.***

Page 45, Paragraph 6:

Hob walks away from the hill of branches and from me to the little fire in front of the hut, where he stoops. His shadow rises high and black on the whiteness of the aurochs skin, and he picks up a burning stick from the fire. Now Hob turns to come back to where I am, holding the burning stick in his hand that makes drops of white light move on his belly, on his arms, and on the edge of his black cheek.

Page 46, Paragraph 1 (first full):

I look to the girl, and don't understand why she isn't helping me. She stands far away from where I lay on the hill of branches, and now takes the aurochs wrap from her hair, and doesn't look at me. The skin-band falls, a bit of white in the dark. The girl turns her head toward the light, and I see that she wears the band to hide a bad mark on her head. Above her eyes there's a big tear. There's no blood, but the skin lifts up at an edge, along and beneath her hairline.

Paragraph 2:

Now my arms and legs start shaking so hard that I can't stop them. My ass makes a noise, and shit comes from it onto my legs. I don't want the girl to see this. I don't want to look at her. I turn my head slowly and look up. Hob's come back here and is standing above me. White eyes. White teeth below an empty blackness where there is no face, with antlers rising above it.

Paragraph 3:

"All good," he says to me, and now puts his burning stick in the hill of branches. From the wood beneath me comes a noise like bugs whispering "quick," and "hit," and "set," and so forth. Now the noise of bugs becomes the noise of a rat, and the rat says "scratch," and the rat says "stick-it-back," and so forth. I smell blood. I smell smoke. Oh, now. Oh, where is the girl?

Page 45, Paragraphs 3 - 5; Notes ***SPOILER ALERT!***

***SPOILER ALERT! If you haven't read the end of "Hob's Hog" yet, you probably won't want to read this post, as part of the ending of the chapter is revealed. Don't say I didn't warn you.***

(btw - I'm honestly not trying to tease this out - I just haven't had a lot of opportunities to sit down and work on this blog for more than a half-hour or so.)

***

Page 45, Paragraph 3:

I cry hot tears and try to say I'll do anything for Hob if he doesn't hurt me. I'll go away. I won't see the girl. I try to say all of this, but my mouth is full and I can't say anything. Hob takes me around the pigpen, in front of the white-skin hut, where there is light as from a little fire, and now I see his black face and his wooden horns, and see that there's blood on him.* As there is with me. Oh no.

Paragraph 4:

Now he lays me down, like a baby, on the prickly thing in front of the aurochs hut. I feel a lot of pokes on my back and legs, which is where I understand he's putting me on the hill of branches that I saw him make. Now he takes his hand off me. I lie on the hill of branches with nothing to hold me, and I try to get off, but I can't move. There's no strength. I don't have the strength. I can't move anything, just my hand to rub my neck.

Paragraph 5:

There's a hole in my neck, where liquid's coming out, where blood's coming out, which isn't stopping. Hob. Hob put a hand-axe to my neck while I wasn't paying attention [?]. Oh! All of my blood is coming out onto my belly, my neck, and the branch hill beneath me. I don't smell flowers. I smell nothing but blood.**

* And just who is Alan Moore trying to evoke with his depiction of Hob? (Dana Carvey voice) "Could it be... Satan?" Baphomet? Cernunnos? It's interesting to look at the history of the Horned God archetype in terms of this and speculate as to whether Moore had a particular deity in mind when he created this image. It's also interesting to note that "Old Hob" is apparently another term for the Devil.

**And that's almost never a good thing.

Page 44, Paragraph 9; Page 45, Paragraphs 1 and 2 ***SPOILER ALERT!***

***SPOILER ALERT! If you haven't read the end of "Hob's Hog" yet, you probably won't want to read this post, as part of the ending of the chapter is revealed. Don't say I didn't warn you.***

***

Page 44, Paragraph 9:

Arm around my neck. Man-smell. Hot skin. His arm is strong on my neck; his belly is against my back. I can't breathe. I can't speak. I'm scared. I'm scared, and I can smell the man, and smell [?] his hot penis. My feet are off the ground. The girl looks deeply into my eyes. His big arm hurts with a hard pain and keeps me from breathing (oh Mother) and now something comes, bright and quick, and makes a little cold sensation on my neck, followed by a big sensation of warmth.

Page 45, Paragraph 1 (first full paragraph):

I think the man has thrown warm water down my belly to make me wet, but I don't understand how. I move this way, now that way, but oh! It's no help, and more warm liquid falls on my belly and all the strength goes out from me. His arm moves away from my throat so I can take a breath, and arms comes below my back and my ass to lift me. I'm lying now in his strong arms. I look up, and eyes, all white, look down upon me, but there's no face. Now below the eyes comes another white shape. Teeth. Hob is smiling.

Paragraph 2:

Oh, he found us. He knows we're planning to leave. I turn my head to look at the girl, so I can tell her to run, but a bad taste comes into my mouth so I can't say anything - I can only spit. She doesn't look frightened, nor does she look like she's going to run away. She doesn't move, and her face is expressionless. Now Hob walks with me in his arms. All my strength goes from me, like I'm sick. I can't get away. The girl stands there so she can quietly follow Hob and I. I smell flowers. I smell man. I smell blood.

Page 44, Paragraphs 1 - 8 ***SPOILER ALERT!***

Back at it.

***SPOILER ALERT! If you haven't read the end of "Hob's Hog" yet, you probably won't want to read this post, as part of the ending of the chapter is revealed. Don't say I didn't warn you.***

***

Page 44, Paragraph 1 (first paragraph after the break):

...but darkness.

Paragraph 2:

And flowers.

Paragraph 3:

I open my eyes. My face is cold. A greyness comes into the dark opposite the river village, as though a long time has passed. I smell flowers, and hear the girl's whisper from outside the pigpen by the open gate.

Paragraph 4:

"It's not dawn yet," she says. "I'm here. I've got a lot of food. Come out," she says, "so we can eat. After we're done, we'll go away."

Paragraph 5:

Now I think about all we talked about doing, and it gives me butterflies in my stomach. Walking around the world with the girl. Finding food with the girl, and lying with her. Ah - more good times will come than I can imagine. "Quickly now," she says. "Quickly now."

Paragraph 6:

I stand up and walk across the pen to the open gate. I think it's good that she found clothes for me ; it's so cold, with fall changing slowly to winter. I can now see better in the dark, which is where I see the girl. She's down on her knees outside the pen. In front of her, she's set apples, bread, and many kinds of meat. I smell the food, and smell the flowers, and am filled with desire, as I always am when I smell them. I want the girl to stay with me my whole life, and not to go away like my people. Like my mother. She looks deeply into my eyes. "Come out," she says. "Come out."

Paragraph 7:

Now I walk out of the gate and out of the pen. I'm only a couple steps away from her. I smile at her, but she doesn't smile back at me - she just looks into my eyes. Now I hold out my arm - I don't know if it's to get food or to take up her long bright hair to rub it.

Paragraph 8:

There's a hand on my back.

Off-Topic: DESTINO

This is wonderful - just discovered it on YouTube.



It's like walking around inside a Dali painting!

You can find more information on the film here.

Muchas gracias to Mr. Door Tree of the fantastic Golden Age Comic Book Stories for the heads up.

Page 43, Paragraphs 4 and 5; Note

Wow, I've really been slacking off on this blog. I'll try to do better in the future.

***

Page 43, Paragraph 4:

Now the poultry is all gone, and the sun, likewise, is gone from the sky. Now there's only darkness, and chewing on bones.

Paragraph 5:

Because there's nothing to see, I can hear the sounds of things better. The sound of a rat running across the hay of the pen. The sound of the river that says, "quick-lick, quick-lick, quick-lick" away in the dark. Now there comes a faraway noise like the settlers as they walk by the river. They're all laughing, and must be doing it loudly for me to hear them at all, because they're very far away. Far away, I can hear the high sound of someone blowing into a bone-pipe, and a drum beat, and they're singing, like the girl did to me. The wind comes and goes, so I can't hear all they're singing, but there's one song I hear.

Make a fire and make it hot
And bone he'll be, and bone he'll be
The path is long, but we are not,
And by the valley go we...*

There's more to the song, but the settlers go further downriver, so that there are many huts between them and I and I can't hear their song or their drums or their bone-pipes. Off downriver, the village's many fires make a little red light in the sky, up on a high, dark cloud [?]. I put one hand and then the other in my clothes, to cover up my penis and warm my hands, and I shut my eyes. There's nothing at all...

*I got the rhyme and cadence again, I think.

Off-Topic: In Case Keith Richards Isn't Available...

I saw this on CNN this morning:

NYC heroin pamphlet -- is it a help or a how-to guide?

Not sure how I feel about the brochure, but it was sure cool to hear them play "Dead Flowers" as a lead-in to the story.




Ah, the Mick Taylor-era Stones - THAT was a great fuckin' rock band.