Antony Johnston and Christopher Mitten, Wasteland (Oni, 2006- ). monthly, $2.99.
It is not hard to see why
post-apolalyptic narratives have been especially appealing
to authors and readers in recent years. The combination of
world events, an endless war, and the very real possibility
that in our lifetimes we will witness our environment tip
irrevocably into self-destruct mode has made the imagining
of such scenarios increasingly urgent in this decade.
Comics have long lent themselves to the genre particularly
well, at least as long as it is focused primarily on one
central character or group, as in the case of
Y: The Last
Man or
Walking
Dead. What
made Wasteland such a surprise when it launched a couple
of years ago was that it attempted to bring the epic sweep
of Dune and the massive ensemble cast of
Lost
to the spartan formal
restraints of the comic. Two years later, what makes it so
remarkable is that it has succeeded in these ambitions
beyond what most readers could have reasonably hoped for.
And the best, it would seem, is yet to come.
I have held off reviewing Wasteland for these many issues because, in truth,
I was not convinced it could pull off half of what it had
set itself to do. The whole thing begins fairly
conventionally for the genre with the story of the
post-apocalyptic outpost of Providens being attacked by
vile and (at first) incomprehensible Sand-Eaters, being
rescued by a mysterious stranger, and then beginning a long
hike through the waste to the city of New Begin. Adding
another layer of complexity to the narrative, we then begin
to explore the political situation in New Begin itself,
where a meglomaniacal leader, Marcus, has grown
increasingly paranoid about a coming threat to his city and
his rule represented by visions of a man and a woman in the
approaching caravan. But even as Marcus attempts to stave
off disaster by enslaving those who refuse to worship him
(the Sunners, who believe that the unspecified disaster
that has created the Wasteland was a punishment from Mother
Sun and Father Moon), we begin as well to learn about the
political machinations of those surrounding him on the
council, and of the desperate choices of those who face
enslavement at his hands. While the mysterious stranger,
Michael, and the former sherrif of Providens, Abi, remain
vital to the increasingly dizzying energies circulating
around the story, they quickly become just two characters
in a vast cast, each with backstories, secrets, and
ambitions.
It is not a big surprise when, in one letters page, Johnson
confesses to being a fan of Lost. The book is demanding of the kind of
obsessive attention as the show, and it offers similar
rewards to the attentive--and similar frustrations.
But Wasteland is ultimately more emotionally believable
than Lost, a really impressive achievement
considering the form. Johnson and Mitten never take
recourse into the kind of operatic melodrama that
Lost
must to compensate for the
interruptions of commercial breaks, writer’s strikes, and
production schedules. Even the Sand Eaters are given their
chance to tell their own origin story, their own vision of
the world we are inhabiting, although translating that
story requires the kind of scholastic patience that I
couldn’t quite bring to the subject. (I’m waiting for the
SparkNotes, or for the generous and energetic contributions
to the letters pages from the book’s faithful readers, who
early on deciphered the mysterious and possibly
mythical A-Ree-Yass-I
as “Area 51,” which is as convincing as anything I’ve come
up with thus far.)
Johnston’s abilities to bring the breadth of the epic novel
to the comic form is a real achievement, but the book’s
success owes much as well to Mitten’s art which is somehow
angular and gritty while being warm and human. I love the
Templesmith covers that grace each issue, but I am grateful
that Mitten is the artist bringing the story to life
precisely because he resists the temptations of the
material to overplay the gothic and grotesque visions of
our post-apocalytpic future. Given Johnston’s determination
to get us to see through everyone’s eyes, sand and all, this gentle touch is
vital. And Mitten can handle the energy of the action—which
is sometimes dizzying to behold—with both guns blazing,
never letting us forget about the human (and inhuman) costs
of the violence we are seeing.
There are risks the book runs as it approaches its 20th
issue. Recently, one of the leaders of the Sand Eater’s
attack on New Begin was revealed to be Marcus’s sister,
Mary, in disguise. Somehow, this twist felt to me one too
many, a new character, a new backstory, and one in this
case that made us question the whole Sand Eater perspective
we had only recently been let in on. On their website,
Johnson suggests he will wrap it all up in 50 issues, but
as he keeps adding characters, tribes and political layers
to the story, this is starting to seem as unconvincing as
the promise of Lost’s creators to have their loose ends tied
up in two short seasons. But 19 issues in, Johnson and
Mitten have made believers of me and I’m willing to risk
the next 31 issues to prove they can do it. And, heck, if
they need another 50 issues, I have absolutely no problem
with that at all!
