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crowyhead's review against another edition
4.0
Originally read 2006, re-reading September 2015.
Having been banished from Earth to the farthest reaches of the universe, Swamp Thing journeys from world to world searching for a way to go home. The worlds he visits are beautifully realized by Alan Moore and the artists; particularly surreal is an episode where Swamp Thing encounters what is apparently a massive sentient machine-like creature the size of a planet. Meanwhile, on Earth Abby Cable soldiers on, trying to rebuild her life while desperately hoping she will see Swamp Thing again.
This is a wide-ranging volume and doesn't have quite the same emotional impact as the previous, but it's a very satisfying conclusion to Moore's run.
Having been banished from Earth to the farthest reaches of the universe, Swamp Thing journeys from world to world searching for a way to go home. The worlds he visits are beautifully realized by Alan Moore and the artists; particularly surreal is an episode where Swamp Thing encounters what is apparently a massive sentient machine-like creature the size of a planet. Meanwhile, on Earth Abby Cable soldiers on, trying to rebuild her life while desperately hoping she will see Swamp Thing again.
This is a wide-ranging volume and doesn't have quite the same emotional impact as the previous, but it's a very satisfying conclusion to Moore's run.
storyorc's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
The creativity and philosophical interest of the plots is still on the rise from the latter half of the previous book. As someone with a tenuous grasp on the wider DC canon, there is plenty that still goes over my head, but what I do get is the best of Swamp Thing yet despite structurally being basically the denouement. Cosmic horror was not where I expected this vegetable to go! It is inspiring how Moore commits to the implications and intricacies of his plots instead of racing back to the status quo after the biggest explosion.
I'm not sold on the ethics of ST's excuse for not fixing the climate and feeding the children but I get that Eden is not really compatible with the DC Earth. Abby and ST's ending is written with the respect and love that they have earned however, so I can't be mad.
I'm not sold on the ethics of ST's excuse for not fixing the climate and feeding the children but I get that Eden is not really compatible with the DC Earth. Abby and ST's ending is written with the respect and love that they have earned however, so I can't be mad.
cemeterygates's review against another edition
2.0
If you want to listen to a pretentious acid trip, by all means please read this Swamp Thing collection. I know it's not the popular opinion, but come on Alan Moore. Some of this was just excruciating.
sardonic_writer's review against another edition
3.0
It's a quieter end than I was expecting, but Moore's run surprisingly ends on a pretty happy note. Moore is a weird guy, Swamp Thing is weirder character, but for the most part they meshed. That being said, I don't think I'll be rushing to pick up any more Swamp Thing after this.
ekansthepokemon's review against another edition
3.0
This series gets weirder and weirder, and by this point, it feels like it's losing steam. Moore finishes his tenure strong, but it just doesn't have the same drive I felt that the earlier issues had.
librarimans's review against another edition
5.0
And thus concludes Alan Moore's brilliant run--a couple of neat Swamp Thing in SPAAAAAAAACE stories, keeping up on Abby, and then the eventual reunion and putting all the toys back in the toy box. The whole run was fantastic and I can't recommend it enough
rthesquirrelgirl's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
jgkeely's review against another edition
5.0
Here Moore laid down a marker in the history of comics, ominous and unlikely as Archduke Ferdinand's tomb. Reading through the new wave of British authors who helped to reconceptialize the genre for us poor Americans, one understands more and more why it had to be this man. There is a flair amongst them all for a certain madness and depth of psychology, but Moore was the only one who didn't think it made him special. Our curiosity is always piqued by the mysterious stranger, and Moore will always be that.
There is a quote of Emerson's which helps elucidate men of mystery: "to be great is to be misunderstood". Most Zeppelin fans don't see the band in terms of their roots in early blues, just as most Tolkien fans (and followers) don't have the education to recognize the Welsh and Norse folktales he was emulating. It seems the kernel of an author's inspiration is often so specific and poorly-understood by their audience that they it becomes an endless and entrancing mystery.
There was an undeniable and immediate difference in the comic authors of the early eighties, but many of them sinned by way of dadaism, indulging difference for its own sake. After recognizing this brazen and laughably naive rebellion, one begins to understand why most of these writers couldn't keep from breaking the fourth wall and injecting themselves into the text; Morrison has never stopped doing it.
The difference between them and Moore was one of reason; and like Milton's Lucifer, their reason was flawed; and like him still: it was pride. As a young and budding author, I saw in Morrison's 'Invisibles' and, to a lesser extent, in Ennis's 'Preacher', what a silly thing it is to believe your own stories.
Gaiman we may reprieve: unlike the others, he has never imagined himself mad. His penchant for myth and psychology stays rather trimly in the realm of the curious academic, though becomes quite laughable when he attempts to portray chaos. Gaiman's is the most predictable chaos you will ever meet this side of a fourteen-year-old girl who likes penguins.
Moore, however, has loomed over us in a state of questionable sanity for his entire career. Bearded, wild-eyed, long-winded, and obsessed with little things we don't even think about, and yet completely generous and unselfish with his pen. There is something we do not trust about the man who avoids the spotlight; who spurns money; who believes in the power of names enough to remove his from this or that film. The man who stands over and over a proven genius and who plods on into stranger and wider territory is almost an unknowable commodity.
That Alan Moore cares about things we cannot see, and cares nothing about that which we expect him to becomes his strength. In his unpredictability, we come to find new and inspiring sides of ourselves, and of comics, and of others.
If Morrison has lived his entire career as the incorrigible teenager of comics, inspiring in his gusto but disappointing in his ego, then Moore has always been the old man of comics, a crafty wizard who knows things we don't want to know, who leads us patiently through our wide-eyed bumbling and self-absorption, past the explosions and gun battles, and into our own back yard to show us something beautiful that was there the whole time.
We'll wonder why he doesn't want our thanks. Or our praise. We'll wonder why he seems tired and haggard. We'll try to catch his red-rimmed eyes, as if he'll betray by some gesture or expression just what it is he gets out of the deal.
As if sudden curiosity makes us worthy to know.
My Suggested Reading In Comics
There is a quote of Emerson's which helps elucidate men of mystery: "to be great is to be misunderstood". Most Zeppelin fans don't see the band in terms of their roots in early blues, just as most Tolkien fans (and followers) don't have the education to recognize the Welsh and Norse folktales he was emulating. It seems the kernel of an author's inspiration is often so specific and poorly-understood by their audience that they it becomes an endless and entrancing mystery.
There was an undeniable and immediate difference in the comic authors of the early eighties, but many of them sinned by way of dadaism, indulging difference for its own sake. After recognizing this brazen and laughably naive rebellion, one begins to understand why most of these writers couldn't keep from breaking the fourth wall and injecting themselves into the text; Morrison has never stopped doing it.
The difference between them and Moore was one of reason; and like Milton's Lucifer, their reason was flawed; and like him still: it was pride. As a young and budding author, I saw in Morrison's 'Invisibles' and, to a lesser extent, in Ennis's 'Preacher', what a silly thing it is to believe your own stories.
Gaiman we may reprieve: unlike the others, he has never imagined himself mad. His penchant for myth and psychology stays rather trimly in the realm of the curious academic, though becomes quite laughable when he attempts to portray chaos. Gaiman's is the most predictable chaos you will ever meet this side of a fourteen-year-old girl who likes penguins.
Moore, however, has loomed over us in a state of questionable sanity for his entire career. Bearded, wild-eyed, long-winded, and obsessed with little things we don't even think about, and yet completely generous and unselfish with his pen. There is something we do not trust about the man who avoids the spotlight; who spurns money; who believes in the power of names enough to remove his from this or that film. The man who stands over and over a proven genius and who plods on into stranger and wider territory is almost an unknowable commodity.
That Alan Moore cares about things we cannot see, and cares nothing about that which we expect him to becomes his strength. In his unpredictability, we come to find new and inspiring sides of ourselves, and of comics, and of others.
If Morrison has lived his entire career as the incorrigible teenager of comics, inspiring in his gusto but disappointing in his ego, then Moore has always been the old man of comics, a crafty wizard who knows things we don't want to know, who leads us patiently through our wide-eyed bumbling and self-absorption, past the explosions and gun battles, and into our own back yard to show us something beautiful that was there the whole time.
We'll wonder why he doesn't want our thanks. Or our praise. We'll wonder why he seems tired and haggard. We'll try to catch his red-rimmed eyes, as if he'll betray by some gesture or expression just what it is he gets out of the deal.
As if sudden curiosity makes us worthy to know.
My Suggested Reading In Comics