Ambidextrous 322- Anatomy Lessons

This is the trial run (and the inspiration really) for an all-new feature series on this site called Anatomy Lessons

Something of a spiritual successor to This is Why, this new series will allow me to occasionally gush about some of my favorite creators and their works, without the incredible time and space commitment. Instead of breaking down an entire run of creative greatness, this feature will focus on one single issue. It could be a completely self-contained story, or appear smack in the middle of a monster storyline, but in either case it’s gotta be great from cover to cover. It has to be the kind of script that fills me with inspiration, and possibly even a little terror. Naturally, we’ll get started with the feature’s namesake, which just happens to be one of the most astounding single comics known to man. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s talk a bit about Alan Moore’s script for The Saga of the Swamp Thing #21, appropriately titled The Anatomy Lesson

There’s this thing whenever a new creator comes onboard an established book or character, this important moment that pronounces to the audience that while they respect what has come before them, everything is going to be a little different now. This book now belongs to them, and they’re going to prove it. Prove it in a way that’s going to force you to make a critical choice, the most important choice you can make with your money and time–am I in or am I out? Is this book, comic, TV show, movie, etc. going to turn into something truly special, or just end up like most everything else? And the sooner this moment happens, the sooner everyone can just get on with it. For some things it takes an entire story arc, or most of the first act, or maybe even the entire first season. But for some things it’s almost immediate, like a bolt of lightning that you were never going to escape even if you’d tried. The Anatomy Lesson is definitely one of those things.

It starts innocently enough, with a hauntingly poetic introduction, and the promise of “blood in extraordinary quantities,” before cycling into a concise re-telling of Swamp Thing’s origin. It’s typical comic book stuff, and I mean no disrespect when I say that, but there’s the tragic accident, the dramatic transformation, leading to the birth of a new and strange persona. All very effective and time-honored concepts within the superhero genre, but it’s not enough for what Alan Moore is planning for Alec Holland, and as the character is physically taken apart, and all the trappings that he never really needed are casually tossed away, comes the revelation that everything we thought we knew about the character was wrong. The Swamp Thing was never a man at all, but a walking talking plant that wholeheartedly believed that he was one.

Wow. Wow, that’s cool.

Classic reinvention that’s actually more of a reinterpretation, but it’s definitely what the kids call a game-changer, and it’s Alan Moore creating that moment I was just talking about, one that allows for only one reasonable answer—yes, I’m all the way in and was there ever any doubt? You consider that this happens on page 12 and it becomes even more remarkable. And while you’re sitting there completely stunned at how Moore did it, and how quickly and effectively he did it, the man plant begins to grow back and one of the scripts many great pieces of narration appears—

“He should have let me finish. He should have listened. Then I’d have been able to explain the most important thing of all to him. I’d have been able to explain that you can’t kill a vegetable by shooting it through the head.”

But what will happen when the vegetable learns the awful truth, that everything he ever wanted truly is impossible? A great escape obviously, but before that, a great murder, and another set of great lines—

“And will there be blood? I don’t know, I don’t know if there will be blood. It isn’t important. It won’t spoil things if there is no blood. The blood doesn’t matter. Just the dying. The dying’s all that matters.”

And after all that, what can possibly happen next? Where could this story and this character possibly go next? When the beginning is actually the end, what comes after that? You finish this story, and there’s nothing you can do to resist the urge to find out. One of the greatest comic scripts I’ve ever read, both inspirational and truly terrifying in both its complexity and its simplicity, and I expect most of you folks of fine taste agree.

Extremely confident that Alan Moore will make quite a few more appearances in this feature, but where else could we start but here? How could Swamp Thing be this important to comics’ storied history? I really don’t know, but it is, and this is where the fun and the greatness and the awe truly began. Proof that at the end of the day, characters don’t matter nearly as much as creators do. And that will always be something of a comforting thought.

Special thanks go out to Nate Lee (who made sure I read this in the first place,) and Don Alsafi, whose blog Marvel Genesis, which looks at early Marvel Comics from the 1960s one book at a time, provided the final spark for this feature series. Check it out here, and see what you think.

And stay tuned for more Anatomy Lessons in the coming weeks and months…no idea what it will be at this point, but I’ve got some great stuff on my shelf, so you never know what will pop up. As always, additional thoughts and commentary are welcome. Thanks.


1 Comment

Filed under Ambidextrous, Anatomy Lessons

One response to “Ambidextrous 322- Anatomy Lessons

  1. Thanks, Brandon!

    Great choice to kick off this feature, by the way. This issue was the first Alan Moore I’d ever read, after hearing his name spoken with reverence for years, and it’s still in many ways my favorite of his works. I remember being floored by the level of writing on that very first page, even though it was just in the captions; I’d never seen words quite that poetic in comics before. Nor quite so creepy!

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