artist: Frank Quitely
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| via DC Wikia |
The elephant's name is Watchmen, by the way, but like any comic book reference there's a secret identity, too, and that's Alan Moore. And Grant Morrison spends the entire issue deconstructing the most famous deconstruction of comic book superheroes ever created, one that has been hailed not merely as one of the finest superhero comics ever, but one of the great pieces of 20th century American fiction in general.
Late in the issue, Morrison delivers his most sly commentary on the effort when he quotes President Kennedy from a speech he made in 1963, five months before his assassination, supporting an initiative that led to the Nuclear Test-Ban Treaty.
You'll note for the record here that I've previously discussed how Moore's vision was perhaps influenced by his growing up under the spectre of nuclear war, something later generations perhaps may not properly appreciate.
Morrison's reference to the speech is a direct refute of Moore's thesis, and represents the fundamental difference between their approaches to superhero comics. In Pax Americana, Peacemaker assassinates the president, a direct reference to the Comedian's implied assassination of Kennedy. Comedian is Peacemaker, and thus in this iteration Peacemaker is Comedian. Part of what I loved so much about the recent Before Watchmen comics was the chance for creators to more heavily explore the implications of what Moore outlined in his original story, and Brian Azzarello did exactly that within his Comedian, the best of those efforts. Now we're seeing more of the fruits of comic books directly reflecting Watchmen rather than applying all the wrong lessons, which many of Moore's successors did (I would argue Garth Ennis as being the worst offender, especially in the pages of the vastly overrated The Boys).
Moore was always a cynic in some respects, a Silver Age fan in a post-Silver Age world who clung to his memories and yet was the first to truly obliterate them. It should be understood that when I say "Silver Age," I refer to the innocent comics that are best reflected in the popular memory by the George Reeves Superman and Adam West Batman on television, which even at that time were beginning to be artifacts of the past, with the dawn of the Marvel Age introducing a layer of new sophistication.
Morrison himself has long attempted to redeem the Silver Age through more conventional means; the "Black Casebook" aspects of his Batman stories were a way of incorporating the more outlandish elements of the Dark Knight's legacy into a more realistic approach, or at least one that better fit in with what comics have since become. Funny enough, when he did a Bat-Mite story outside of Batman context (Happy!), he was accused of trying to be someone else (Ennis).
Such are critics.
Pax Americana is littered with ideas like this. It's a terrific accomplishment on any number of levels, the best single issue of the Multiversity saga to date (which is saying something; this was a project that was years in development, and it shows).
There's Morrison's reteaming with Frank Quitely. The last time they worked this well together, the result was We3, a breakthrough for both of them that still awaits its proper appreciation. Pax Americana on this score is a perfect example of the benefits of two creators continuing to work together, pushing each other to their very best. Clearly Quitely is asked to tackle the challenge of Watchmen's famous stylistic legacy, which is half of what everyone gushes about it. The script itself does so, too. Not since Grayson: Futures End #1, and this is incredible to have one let alone two comics in a single year to have tackled a story so deliberately, have I read something this sensational.
Morrison's Question reflects Moore's Rorschach, but again and perhaps more tellingly, which came first? The Question is a character whose legacy has been all but forgotten except through the lens of a pastiche. The last time he was relevant was in the pages of 52, and in a current iteration has an entire mystical layer that isn't a part of the original legacy at all. A reinvented persona. Morrison is a writer who will always be able to understand a character better than whoever else has been handling them previously. His Question isn't a psychopath exorcising his own demons, but he does take his gimmick seriously. Maybe the general attitude is the same, but again, Pax Americana is clearly a reflection of Watchmen already. One that turns the story back around.
Captain Atom/Doctor Manhattan, Blue Beetle/Nite-Owl, Nightshade/Silk Spectre. There's a lot of analytic potential here.
Bottom line is, this is one master reflecting on another. I personally think Morrison comes out on top. He has a better grasp of the subject material and he's more willing to side with the material, oddly, trust that superheroes can make their own defense, that stories can be multifaceted, and that a single issue can do all the necessary work. Ever since the early days of Batman Incorporated (the first volume), he's made a concerted effort to tell a complete story while suggesting how it fits in the larger context. That's what he did in Seven Soldiers of Victory, The Return of Bruce Wayne, and now The Multiversity. This issue is his most subtle and yet most intricate work to date. It may be the best comic book published in 2014, the most relevant superhero statement of the 21st century to date.
And the project isn't even finished yet. This is a giant love letter to a medium, to a genre. That's the difference between Grant Morrison and Alan Moore. Moore wanted to distinguish an emerging sophisticated approach. Morrison hopes superheroes can still explain themselves. It certainly helps to have someone like him around to lend some assistance.
Late in the issue, Morrison delivers his most sly commentary on the effort when he quotes President Kennedy from a speech he made in 1963, five months before his assassination, supporting an initiative that led to the Nuclear Test-Ban Treaty.
You'll note for the record here that I've previously discussed how Moore's vision was perhaps influenced by his growing up under the spectre of nuclear war, something later generations perhaps may not properly appreciate.
Morrison's reference to the speech is a direct refute of Moore's thesis, and represents the fundamental difference between their approaches to superhero comics. In Pax Americana, Peacemaker assassinates the president, a direct reference to the Comedian's implied assassination of Kennedy. Comedian is Peacemaker, and thus in this iteration Peacemaker is Comedian. Part of what I loved so much about the recent Before Watchmen comics was the chance for creators to more heavily explore the implications of what Moore outlined in his original story, and Brian Azzarello did exactly that within his Comedian, the best of those efforts. Now we're seeing more of the fruits of comic books directly reflecting Watchmen rather than applying all the wrong lessons, which many of Moore's successors did (I would argue Garth Ennis as being the worst offender, especially in the pages of the vastly overrated The Boys).
Moore was always a cynic in some respects, a Silver Age fan in a post-Silver Age world who clung to his memories and yet was the first to truly obliterate them. It should be understood that when I say "Silver Age," I refer to the innocent comics that are best reflected in the popular memory by the George Reeves Superman and Adam West Batman on television, which even at that time were beginning to be artifacts of the past, with the dawn of the Marvel Age introducing a layer of new sophistication.
Morrison himself has long attempted to redeem the Silver Age through more conventional means; the "Black Casebook" aspects of his Batman stories were a way of incorporating the more outlandish elements of the Dark Knight's legacy into a more realistic approach, or at least one that better fit in with what comics have since become. Funny enough, when he did a Bat-Mite story outside of Batman context (Happy!), he was accused of trying to be someone else (Ennis).
Such are critics.
Pax Americana is littered with ideas like this. It's a terrific accomplishment on any number of levels, the best single issue of the Multiversity saga to date (which is saying something; this was a project that was years in development, and it shows).
There's Morrison's reteaming with Frank Quitely. The last time they worked this well together, the result was We3, a breakthrough for both of them that still awaits its proper appreciation. Pax Americana on this score is a perfect example of the benefits of two creators continuing to work together, pushing each other to their very best. Clearly Quitely is asked to tackle the challenge of Watchmen's famous stylistic legacy, which is half of what everyone gushes about it. The script itself does so, too. Not since Grayson: Futures End #1, and this is incredible to have one let alone two comics in a single year to have tackled a story so deliberately, have I read something this sensational.
Morrison's Question reflects Moore's Rorschach, but again and perhaps more tellingly, which came first? The Question is a character whose legacy has been all but forgotten except through the lens of a pastiche. The last time he was relevant was in the pages of 52, and in a current iteration has an entire mystical layer that isn't a part of the original legacy at all. A reinvented persona. Morrison is a writer who will always be able to understand a character better than whoever else has been handling them previously. His Question isn't a psychopath exorcising his own demons, but he does take his gimmick seriously. Maybe the general attitude is the same, but again, Pax Americana is clearly a reflection of Watchmen already. One that turns the story back around.
Captain Atom/Doctor Manhattan, Blue Beetle/Nite-Owl, Nightshade/Silk Spectre. There's a lot of analytic potential here.
Bottom line is, this is one master reflecting on another. I personally think Morrison comes out on top. He has a better grasp of the subject material and he's more willing to side with the material, oddly, trust that superheroes can make their own defense, that stories can be multifaceted, and that a single issue can do all the necessary work. Ever since the early days of Batman Incorporated (the first volume), he's made a concerted effort to tell a complete story while suggesting how it fits in the larger context. That's what he did in Seven Soldiers of Victory, The Return of Bruce Wayne, and now The Multiversity. This issue is his most subtle and yet most intricate work to date. It may be the best comic book published in 2014, the most relevant superhero statement of the 21st century to date.
And the project isn't even finished yet. This is a giant love letter to a medium, to a genre. That's the difference between Grant Morrison and Alan Moore. Moore wanted to distinguish an emerging sophisticated approach. Morrison hopes superheroes can still explain themselves. It certainly helps to have someone like him around to lend some assistance.
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