Tag Archives: Buckingham

Neil Gaiman’s “Miracleman” Issue #6

Miracleman_06

This issue concludes the Golden Age. The first issue of the Silver Age arc was supposed to have been released this month, but I heard from my friend at the comic store that it has been delayed and no word on when it will be out. Alas…

Anyway, this issue, like the others, is very surreal and leaves you with a heavy feeling, oscillating between hope and despair. At the end, people take hold of balloons and float up to the heaven, a symbol of transcendence and separation of the soul. The words are exquisite and worth including here.

I drift upwards, perfectly, unspeakably happy. I see the city, spread out below me like a child’s toy; its streets and lanes thronged with more people than I have ever imagined. And one by one they rise to join me. Magical, glittering children fly among us, laughing and darting like will-o’-the-wisps. I weigh nothing. It’s like a dream; a dream of love and perfection. Some of us call out to each other, happy, near wordless cries of good fellowship and joy. I watch the sun setting in slow flame, painting the low summer clouds with light. I watch it; a huge orange balloon that seems to fill half the sky. It commences to sink below the horizon; and as it does, its last rays catch the stray clouds, silver and mauve and grey; transmute them into ruby and amethyst and gold. Purest, most perfect, eternal gold.

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Neil Gaiman’s “Miracleman” Issue #5

Miracleman_05

This is a very interesting installment. Gaiman uses a spy to symbolize the isolation, alienation, and paranoia that seems to be pervasive in society as a whole. The protagonist, a woman spy, navigates a shadowy world where she is suspicious of everyone, imagining connections and conspiracies which may or may not be real. At one point, she gazes out the window, and snippets of conversation surface in her mind as she tries to make sense of her existence.

Night: I stand at my window, staring out at the lights of the city. There’s a shape there, if only I could place it. Something I almost understand. Phrases run through my head. “Rudnitsky’s gone triple.” “He’s a martyr to his back, our Darren.” “It’s need to know, 1860, and you don’t need to know.” “The plumber still didn’t come, I see.” “Sorry, love. We’re out of hake. I can do you some lovely mackerel.” “It’s the city, Ruth. It’s where we live.” A movement catches my attention, in a distant window. I fetch my binoculars from a drawer, focus them.

(p. 12)

The artwork in this issue is perfect. It is dark and grainy, which reflects the shadowy world that is the reality of the spy. The combination of the imagery and the lonely internal dialog does an amazing job of evoking the loneliness and lurking uncertainty of the spy, which is also the loneliness and uncertainty of the post-millennial individual.

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Neil Gaiman’s “Miracleman” Issue #4

Miracleman_04

Gaiman incorporates some very interesting metafiction into this issue. The story is about a woman writer who is in a failing relationship with a man who is getting ready to leave her. She is putting the kids to bed and they ask her to read them a bedtime story, so she reads them “Winter’s Tale,” which is a kids’ book about the experiences of Winter, Miracleman’s daughter. The central part of the story is “Winter’s Tale,” as a story within a story.

Symbolically, Winter’s story is based on the archetypal hero’s journey, where she ventures away from home, learns deep truths, and then returns home to Miracleman, who symbolizes the divine source.

The entire story implies a world where the divine masculine has become the primary creative power. The mother symbolizes a creative divine that has become weakened and subjugated in our modern society.

This is a very sad story. The mother is depicted as lonely and unhappy, hoping that her joy for life will be rekindled through her children. Unfortunately, this is the reality for too many women in our society, who think that having children will ultimately save them from an unfulfilled life. But contentment and happiness can only come from within. Any time you seek something outside yourself to change how you feel, it will always lead to disappointment.

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Neil Gaiman’s “Miracleman” Issue #3

Miracleman_03

This is a very surreal issue. The story features clones of Andy Warhol, and the artwork is done in a style that alludes to Warhol’s work. It addresses themes of consciousness and whether consciousness is holistic and resides in every cell.

Hmm. So does that mean that memory is holographic? That each cell contains the entirety? Obviously not? Magnetic fields, perhaps, or Kirlian fields…

(p. 4)

I wish I had more to say about this, but it just left me feeling strange. Like I was in a dream instead of reading a comic. Like I said, this is a very surreal issue.

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Neil Gaiman’s “Miracleman” Issue #2

Miracleman_02

The time of myth is returning:
stories that shape the world, as the
world itself is being reshaped by the
new gods that reign in high Olympus.

Where my life overlapped with
hers, it has become myth, and
it has reshaped me.

(p. 16)

This is a great issue that tells the tale of a lonely man who tends a windmill and is visited by Miraclewoman, who he considers a goddess, a being of perfection. She responds by acknowledging the divinity within all humans.

“All women are goddesses, and all men are gods…”

(p. 10)

But it is the passage near the end, which I cited at the beginning of the post, which really resonated with me. Lately, I have not been able to shake the feeling that humanity is at the threshold of a new stage in our evolution, although I cannot say in which direction we will move. But I suspect that this global shift will usher in an age where myth becomes prominent again in the collective consciousness. As stressful as it is, this is truly an exciting period in which to be alive.

I leave you with this thought: We are all part of the myth that is unfolding. We should act accordingly.

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Neil Gaiman’s “Miracleman” Issue #1

Miracleman_01

I read recently about a “new” comic arc written by Neil Gaiman. Being a big fan of Gaiman’s writing, I inquired about it at the local comic store. The owner said that it was originally written in the 1990’s and only part of the series was ever published, and that they were finally releasing the rest of the arc. He got the six original issues for me and said the first “new” issue is scheduled to be release in March.

I really enjoyed this first installment. It is classic Gaiman writing, rich in mystical symbolism. The writing is augmented nicely by Mark Buckingham’s artwork, which feels surrealistically modern, yet appears classical in style.

In this first issue, four pilgrims are climbing the stairs of a massive temple to reach their god, Miracleman, where they can pray directly to him. The climb is symbolic of the struggle one must take to attain a spiritual goal, where each level represents a stage in the spiritual ascension.

I ache all over. The rhythms of the climb begin to imprint themselves on my consciousness. Step after step after step, hour after hour, until we reach the next floor. Then we walk around the inside of this tower of miracles, through hall after hall filled with oddments and delights of every shape and kind, until we reach the bottom of the next rung of stairs. And up.

One of the floors of the temple is a hall of mirrors. The mirrors symbolize the stage in the spiritual quest when one begins to examine oneself through the lens of altered consciousness, seeing yourself in new and myriad ways, catching glimpses of your subconscious mind.

I don’t know how long we spent on the hundred and fiftieth floor in the mirror halls. We must have walked for miles, looking for a way up, or a way out, finding only mirrors. Regular mirrors, row after row of them. Distorting mirrors, that made us look fat, or thin, or twisted. And other mirrors. Taipek said he saw an angel in one of them. I didn’t see any angels. In one mirror I saw myself naked. In another I was looking out at myself, but I was holding up a piece of paper.

I love a graphic novel that uses visual art and written word to explore the intricacies of the mystical and the subconscious. This clearly falls into that category of graphic novel. I am eager to delve into issue 2.

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