Ever other panel feels like it’s littered with the corpses of the fallen in Star Wars: Darth Maul. And the body count only racks up high and higher as this unconrititantly simplistic yet hardly unenjoyable yarn unfurls across a heap just a few scraps of paper short of the 100 page mark. Most interestingly enough, the very greatest strength of the character of Maul (his opaque shrouds of unexplained mystery) embodies the very flipside of this poorly sautéered character. From the very shrouds of the unknown that seek to cloak Maul not just literally but figuratively – reflect their own flimsy values as a story as equally murky and unrefined in its growth performs its own far from perfect dance of the Yin and the Yang just shortly before the title crawl to I were to have taken place…
Seemingly cut from the same cloth, this offering arrived two years after the movie and with it, a reverberation of echoes that both inform and incestualize the atrocity of the Episode I era. Case in point: all out platonic cookie-cutter manufactories have spewed out our Knights [Qui-Gon/Kenobi], Damsel in… [Amidala], and so on and so forth until we get to the bad guys who while fulfilling their molds well – fogs of literary war merely grant us cheap facsimiles of something that could at least be a tad more complex and slightly better reasoned. Just as Qui-Gon hardly lives up to his “Grey” Jedi status – neither does Darth Maul who ends up representing first and manifesting second the prototypical bad-guy/arch-enemy/black-knight etc… Rehashing well worn and known roads and trails and instinctual pathways of rhythm and metaphor and meaning with little more than an extra dash of Violence – it’s just merely more of the same.
And that sameness (for better and for (hella) worse) that reverberated from Episode I and it’s decaying influence of mediocrity – so too does an equally boring tale in the SW universe recall, reclaim, and then rebind itself to the internal-timestream. Case in point: when the plot boils down to an assassination on the capos of the ever burgeoning Black Sun criminal enterprise (ltd?) in the pre-fall-of-the-Republic era – another loop of written intertextuality becomes closed. With SOTE tied into its chronologically preceding story, loops are tethered into the meaning of the text which have not had a moment to unfurl and lose any connections that could have had (before functionaly damning themselves to the aberrations that are closed loops of nihilism).
So even with some level of connection to bind this standaloneytale* gossamer threads as thin as their length see fit, at the hands of authors and illustrators alike, to merely focus upon it’s own story. And thus constrained to it’s own hamster wheel level production, a puerile inversion of a goo’ ol’ fashioned Good Vs. Evil tale is shockingly replicated the internal values reversed… Just as Luke and Co. effortlessly plow through hundreds of the Empire’s seasoned guards with high power(ed) weaponry, effective armor, and the best train training the galaxy can grant – I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the same alacrity in application as well as appropriation to hustle and bustle this story through its second, third, and Final Act.
For in our Post-Modern Era (all over again) it is just as crucial to dot our I’s and cross our t’s that we firmly not just cast out floating kites of ideas thoughtlessly but, that we must firmly plant it’s meaning into something else lest it find itself astray ready for appropriation and bastardization. With firm roots in the known- a quilt work of conscious and unconiously known-known’s can bind themselves into something coherent, seeking-truth, and reflecting the values and prejudices of the culture(s) that birthed them first, and then sustained themselves upon once the first loops were lain down.
With everything mind-stretching you’ve heard today, it might surprise you to find out that while hardly the apple of the eye’s delight, neither does this rouge-tinged tale deserve to be merely relegated to the annals of published history. No burnings or dustbins are required- merely an eye our for pleasure and an eye with a scintilla of critical-thinking. In a rare case of mixing uppers and downers – I heartily exhort you to dose yourself with an extra dose of *suspension of disbelief setzer (now in a disposable tablet! - $9.95!). Then curl up the left of your upper lip to read this with a smug knowingness that the unabashed hyper-commercialism of the Prequel’s Era exposed evil Jorge to be the Emperor of his Era who actually never did wear any clothes (Despite what any of his fans wouls say otherwise)
So, there you have it. Dudes get thwacked with D. Maul’s lightsaber, bodies drop, and (in an unusual occurrence) Bad Guys win and other (seemingly) mutually nasty Others lose. Sure, it’s odd to cheer for the bad guy but, maybe we’re never meant to cheer for anybody? Commercialist production sure but, there’s a reasonably decent product here within and without it’s ex/internalized muck(s).