The Absolute Sandman, Vol. 1
January 1, 2007 (8:39 p.m.)
Quite unexpectedly, a friend gave me
The Absolute Sandman, Vol. 1 as a Christmas
gift. This was a book I'd been afraid to ask for, or to even buy for myself. First off,
the book is massive - 612 pages, 13 inches tall, over seven
pounds! I'm not sure I even have a shelf tall enough to house it. By the time all
four volumes are out, I may need to reinforce the floors.
Besides, I already have all of the individual Sandman issues, as well as heavily read softcover collections. Yep, The Absolute Sandman is a fetish object, pure and simple. The kind that gets any bibliophile worth his salt sitting under a good light, with freshly washed and de-oiled hands, stroking the binding meant to look like an ancient folio, ogling the massive pages of pure comic goodness.
Believe me, I have nothing against fantabulous packaging like this. I think, though, that a slowly developing, and wildly disturbing, streak of pragmatism got in the way of my ever succumbing to the temptation to buy it. Maybe from now on, if I just ignore those disturbing whispers of practicality in my ear, they'll go away for good. Because it'd be a shame to miss editions like this.
For those not familiar with the original comic, The Sandman followed Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams, as he escaped from human imprisonment, reclaimed his realm, and dealt with the consequences of his actions. Sounds a bit pulpy, right? Well, The Sandman was always more than that, though. At its heart, The Sandman was about the power of stories, about the value of mythology in the modern day, even if the modern day has mistreated the mythologies of old.
The first storyline, "Preludes and Nocturnes," concerned Morpheus' escape from imprisonment and his reclamation of not only his objects of power, but also his realm of dreams. It's a rough storyline -- in more ways than one -- that contains more horror than you'd find in the rest of the comic's run. In one of the story's threads, a madman holes up in a diner, using his considerable powers to play with the sanity of those he traps inside. It's probably my least favorite storyline of the entire series, if only because it feels like Gaiman was still searching for the comic's true voice, and because anyone reading just this storyline would have little indication of what wonders waited in later issues.
By the time he started a storyline called "The Doll's House," Gaiman began hitting his stride. He introduced the Corinthian, an escaped nightmare with fanged mouths for eyes. Morpheus tracks the Corinthian down at a serial killer's convention, of all places, a concept full of black humor and disturbing matter-of-factness among the participants. The Corinthian thinks he's introducing newly nuanced terror to the world, but as Morpheus unmakes his wayward nightmare, the Corinthian learns that he's simply told the world that it contains bad people -- something the world knew full well. Morpheus also continues his work of undoing the damage done in his absence, and some of his actions revisit him later on.
In the "Dream Country" storyline, Gaiman upped the ante even further, with four evocative, touching, self-contained tales. A man captures the muse Calliope for his own gain. A prophet cat tries to enlist other cats in dreaming of a world where they, not humans, rule. As part of a bargain for his talents, Shakespeare writes and performs A Midsummer Night's Dream for a real faerie audience. A forgotten comics character, Element Girl, is granted her wish for death.
The Charles Vess-illustrated "A Midsummer Night's Dream" issue won a World Fantasy Award, and sparked a silly debate and rule change for the award, specifying that comics would henceforth be ineligible for the reward. It was a fine, fine story, and the entire "Dream Country" storyline is top-notch, but Gaiman would really get things going later with the "Seasons of Mist" storyline, in which Lucifer abdicates his throne in Hell, and Morpheus is left to contend with a host of deities from various pantheons who wish to acquire Hell. Interesting stuff, but that'll have to wait for The Absolute Sandman, Vol. 2.
For now, we have the first 20 issues, recolored in vibrant fashion. I hadn't realized there was any problem with the originals, until I put them up against the work found in Absolute's weighty, tome-like covers. There's also some extras: the original proposal to DC, some characters sketches, a script, and some Vess illustrations. But the work, the comic, really stands on its own.
If you're a fan of intelligent, thought-provoking comics, The Sandman is well worth your time. If the price tag of The Absolute Sandman is a bit steep, the softcover collections still come highly recommended.