A Game of Dreams

Beyond a doubt one of the most famous and critically-acclaimed comic books of the past twenty years, Neil Gaiman’s SANDMAN helped usher the Vertigo revolution and remains one of the most visible works of the medium.

Neil Gaiman himself has become a successful and popular novelist since the conclusion of SANDMAN in 1996, writing such acclaimed books as AMERICAN GODS, THE GRAVEYARD BOOK, and NEVERMORE. I’ve read AMERICAN GODS as well as its sequel, ANANSI BOYS, plus his collaboration with Terry Pratchett, GOOD OMENS and short story collection FRAGILE THINGS, so I consider myself a fan of his work, but have never read SANDMAN the whole way through. When the series began in 1988, I was very far from being a member of the target audience (not the least because I was eight and wouldn’t become an actual comics reader for about five years). Even when I did start reading comics, SANDMAN was so far advanced, it didn’t seem like a smart thing to try and jump in, and not just because I read mostly superhero stories at that point, and the longer I didn’t read it, the easier it became not to.

As the years progressed, I couldn’t help but hear the continuous stream of accolades directed toward SANDMAN, especially as Gaiman’s reputation as a novelist expanded. I read the odd back issue I managed to come across without directly seeking them out, caught a reprint of the first issue, became suitably impressed, but still, there was a lot to this series, seventy-five issues and ten trade collections, all of which would have been easier to follow had I started in 1988 or been an eager collector of trade collections (the former of which we’ve already established, and the latter something I’ve been working on for a long time); so for the longest time I maintained my marginal experience of SANDMAN, despite a growing interest in its creator.

Stands to reason that I’ve since bought a trade, being the first volume, PRELUDES & NOCTURNES and gotten around to reading it. The Neil Gaiman I know from the books I’ve read is heavily interested in mythology, though not necessarily from a traditional approach. AMERICAN GODS, after all, deals with immigrants mistakenly bringing their old religions with them, sort of spiritual baggage that causes a link for these gods in unfamiliar and unappreciative territory (think how we view Greek gods as more narrative than spiritual entities; actually think that and read GODS BEHAVING BADLY, which is a fine little book from Marie Phillips which is being made into a film).

I knew from my experience with the first issue of SANDMAN that Morpheus begins his journey after being trapped in the world of man, with unexpected consequences for his captors and the greater world around them. The rest of PRELUDES & NOCTURNES, the first eight issues, originally published between 1988 and 1989, describes his escape and reclamation of the things that were stolen from him, the totems and tools he needs to perform his job as representative of Dream from a collective known as the Endless that oversees all human affairs.

Since I had no real experience with the series, I didn’t know what to expect, the tone of it, except my prior experiences with Gaiman in other stories. I didn’t quite expect a horror series, and possibly it’s not very reflective of the series as a whole, given the comments from Gaiman and editor Karen Berger included in the volume, but clearly the initial style was hugely influenced by the horror comics of decades past. Possibly as a tenuous link to its origins within the greater DC universe, the first batch of issues draws heavily from established continuity, whether Doctor Destiny, whose criminal career is revealed to have a debt from the entrapment of Morpheus, or the Golden Age Sandman, Wesley Dodds (who would gain his own Vertigo series, SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE, possibly as a direct result of Gaiman’s SANDMAN). Even Martian Manhunter makes an appearance, briefly.

By the time perky Goth chick Death appears in the eighth issue, the horror stylings and pace have slowed, and Gaiman finally starts to settle in to an examination of his central character’s possibilities, and not strictly his particulars. Needless to say, that was probably for the best, and helped SANDMAN attain a kind of timeless, expansive quality.

The first volume is worth a look. I have a feeling that the other nine are more involving. I’ll get around to them eventually.