I read The Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen when I was in junior high and high school, respectively, and I could tell these were big comics, important comics. But I was a kid, and I don't think I fully appreciated the political and philosophical intricacies of those works. The first comic book I think I truly viewed on an adult level, during my university years, was Neil Gaiman's Sandman. I picked up The Doll's House -- the first volume to be published in trade paperback format, but the second story arc in the series -- on a whim, and I was blown away. Neil Gaiman dazzled my 20-soemthing mind with serial killers, crystal hearts and spider women, and I was hooked. I've read just about everything Gaiman's done since then, and he's never disappointed me.
That trend is uninterrupted by Endless Nights.
It's difficult to select just one story as a favorite when it comes to the artwork. Prado's vision of a cosmic summit is wondrous and stunning. P. Craig Russell's work captures a quiet and isolating European setting nicely, and his work here reminds of the style of Watchmen artist Dave Gibbons. Storrey and Siewnkiewicz offer disturbing, distorted visions of madness and melancholy, images that challenge the reader to decipher and interpret them, to find find oneself in them. Frank Quitely, best known for the intense action of The Authority and New X-Men, delivers uncharacteristically serene and soothing painted imagery, while Glenn Fabry's detailed line art put me in mind of Bryan (Luther Arkwright) Talbot's work.
Ultimately though, it's Milo Manara's contribution to Gaiman's story of Desire that's the most fascinating. The artist conveys the erotic tragedy of the tale clearly. There's an enticing yet sad atmosphere throughout the story thanks to the artist's work. He captures the historic elements with seeming ease, and it makes for easy comparisons to Eric Shanower's work on Age of Bronze.
It's easy to select my favorite script as well. Gaiman's "15 Portraits of Despair" is a haunting collection of vignettes that seem all too real. It's easy to see oneself in the characters' hopelessness and powerlessness. Gaiman opens the piece on a rather distant note, focusing on Despair, but soon, he opens the door to more grounded figures and their problems. Their conflicts are resonant and uncomfortably familiar.
The greatest strength of the book -- one that may be off-putting to some -- is the intellectual challenge it presents to the reader. Several stories -- notably Death's, Despair's and Delirium's -- are vague in their storytelling approach. Imagery and meaning are purposefully difficult to discern at times, and it commands the reader's attention. In some cases, Gaiman is presenting the reader with a riddle, never quite saying if the solution is to be found in the endings or in one's own mind.
Note: For further comments about the Dream story, illustrated by Miguelanxo Prado, click HERE to read my review of The Sandman: Endless Nights Special, a retailer incentive/preview book.
