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Cages
Presents a tale about the inhabitants of an apartment building, including a blocked painter, a controversial novelist, and a wise musician.
496 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1991
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3496 people want to read
About the author
Dave McKean
448 books691 followersDave McKean is a world-renowned artist, designer, and film director who has illustrated several books for children, including The Savage by David Almond, and Coraline, The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish, and The Wolves in the Wall, all by Neil Gaiman. Dave McKean lives in England.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 203 reviews
March 13, 2011
I feel as though I may be lynched for disliking this book. I love graphic novels and Dave McKean's vision and style yet this work lacks all but a slight cohesiveness and completely failed to elicit any type of emotional reaction from me. I felt not a single connection to any of the characters. Since the characters sharing an apartment and how they interact is the entire point of the book, I barely feel justified rating 2 stars. I am doing so only because of that vision and style I mentioned before.
The characters truly stomped on my nerves. The ones with too much dialogue needed less and vice versa. There were moments when I thought the story was going to evolve into something more but every time my hopes were dashed. A part I remember being in awe of was the scaffolding towards the beginning, such a wonderful example of McKean's talent.
I can only recommend flipping through the book to appreciate McKean's art but an understanding of the story is rarely needed to achieve that appreciation. This book is overrated.
The characters truly stomped on my nerves. The ones with too much dialogue needed less and vice versa. There were moments when I thought the story was going to evolve into something more but every time my hopes were dashed. A part I remember being in awe of was the scaffolding towards the beginning, such a wonderful example of McKean's talent.
I can only recommend flipping through the book to appreciate McKean's art but an understanding of the story is rarely needed to achieve that appreciation. This book is overrated.
August 6, 2017
I knew of Dave McKean because of his work on several Neil Gaiman projects, but had never experienced his masterpiece. This is the 20th anniversary of Cages! All the characters live in the same building, but there are numerous levels of complexity in storytelling, types of art, etc. It is a journey that is difficult to describe, and sometimes I felt like I didn't know what was going on, but just let the art carry me through. One section in particular combines real figures in a photography style I don't know the name of, but it brought a sense of reality into the story that I found particularly unnerving. In the world of graphic novels, this is not to be missed.
Thanks to the publisher for giving me a review copy through Edelweiss.
Thanks to the publisher for giving me a review copy through Edelweiss.
August 20, 2018
“Trying to make concrete what I can see in my head is impossible”
Dave McKean, creativity is your God.
Dave McKean, creativity is your God.
June 15, 2017
4.5. stars!
A very musical, lyrical piece of art that confronts some very big ideas! I found myself getting lost in Dave Mckean's work, and being a deep thinker myself this was definitely food for thought..
Full review here.
A very musical, lyrical piece of art that confronts some very big ideas! I found myself getting lost in Dave Mckean's work, and being a deep thinker myself this was definitely food for thought..
Full review here.
October 1, 2018
I bought this on a pure whim today when I should have been doing other things. But, in addition to working on a resume and keeping up, barely, at a Sisyphean hamster wheel slog of a job, I do try to remain something like social.
So with a friend I suggested a brief sojourn at our local comics shop. And whereas he purchased a massive door stopping Jack Kirby omnibus I elected for this strange little volume. I hadn't known much of McKean outside of his cover work for Neil Gaiman and Morrison's Arkham story and, from the outside, his aesthetic always struck me as too particularly and strangely esoteric, too late 80's and early 90's for some reason, reminiscent of Peter Chung (of Aeon Flux) on a bender.
But, in a mood of ever expanding horizons, I purchased this. And after a two plus hour reading binge I can safely say that this is a masterwork. And the fact that this is a masterwork of English comic bookery without the name Gaiman, Moore, Miller or insert the name of any other of the 'bigs' just adds, for to its appeal.
This is a story of the creative process, all of it, told with the bare minimum but with an apex of sensitivity and brutality. McKean negotiates this divide, between showing and telling, with a consummate professionalism that would be cool and off putting if it also wasn't straddling the passion of the creative urge so adroitly well. Mortal men and women slaves of a universe that they can express, at times, through their work and justifying it to utter profundity. Not without pain not without loss, but like a chiaroscuro, it's all necessary because it has to be. And cats. So many writers have a thing for cats, that one always went past me.
This isn't an easy read. And it's not as pretty as Gaiman or, maybe, as profound as Moore or even as funny as the likes of Ennis; it's singular, it's its own, it's a work that deserves recognition. I hopefully have done my share. Read it, take your time, let yourself open to its strange beauty.
"Creativity is your God."
Indeed.
So with a friend I suggested a brief sojourn at our local comics shop. And whereas he purchased a massive door stopping Jack Kirby omnibus I elected for this strange little volume. I hadn't known much of McKean outside of his cover work for Neil Gaiman and Morrison's Arkham story and, from the outside, his aesthetic always struck me as too particularly and strangely esoteric, too late 80's and early 90's for some reason, reminiscent of Peter Chung (of Aeon Flux) on a bender.
But, in a mood of ever expanding horizons, I purchased this. And after a two plus hour reading binge I can safely say that this is a masterwork. And the fact that this is a masterwork of English comic bookery without the name Gaiman, Moore, Miller or insert the name of any other of the 'bigs' just adds, for to its appeal.
This is a story of the creative process, all of it, told with the bare minimum but with an apex of sensitivity and brutality. McKean negotiates this divide, between showing and telling, with a consummate professionalism that would be cool and off putting if it also wasn't straddling the passion of the creative urge so adroitly well. Mortal men and women slaves of a universe that they can express, at times, through their work and justifying it to utter profundity. Not without pain not without loss, but like a chiaroscuro, it's all necessary because it has to be. And cats. So many writers have a thing for cats, that one always went past me.
This isn't an easy read. And it's not as pretty as Gaiman or, maybe, as profound as Moore or even as funny as the likes of Ennis; it's singular, it's its own, it's a work that deserves recognition. I hopefully have done my share. Read it, take your time, let yourself open to its strange beauty.
"Creativity is your God."
Indeed.
November 23, 2011
Visually, "Cages" is a tour-de-force and anyone interested in the 'graphic' part of graphic novels should check it out. McKean's drafting and design skills are hugely impressive, continually pushing the boundaries of how much can be done with a few expressive lines. But then there's the story. It reminded me of a quirky foreign film from the '80s, where a bunch of artists happen to be neighbors and how their idiosyncratic lives intersect as they discover truths about life and love and the universe. Frankly, it's the type of meandering narrative that doesn't interest me. If "Cages" had been a straight novel, I wouldn't have finished it. The prose sections (of which there were too many) were overwritten and the various storylines went on far too long considering their often banal conclusions. Many folks consider this a classic work and perhaps when it was originally published there was novelty to telling this type of human level story without resorting to sci-fi tropes etc. Thankfully we've moved beyond this. McKean's art, however, remains ahead of the game.
May 2, 2017
At first, the book looked artsy fartsy, pretentious to me. The opening chapters, prose on the creation of life, seemed to confirm this. When the sequential art begins on page 28 I quickly discovered this book to be something very special, a mix of art and writing styles, various themes, bitter drama and dry humor, music, ... there's so much to be discovered in these 500 pages, yet in some weird, genius way it makes sense. McKean doesn't convince me on every page but when I see where he succeeds in such a brave, creative way I can only react with respect and admiration.
July 7, 2017
Ugh...I didn't hate it, per se. However, it is a bit pretentious, tautological vortex of melancholy and profane ruminations about life and death and existence. It's not bad, but it's not amazing, script-wise. Visually, it's beautiful, in a stark, haunting, contrast-y way. This is my first solo Dave experience and perhaps i'm too whatever to truly appreciate it in this place and time. I still think he's a phenomenal artist, it's just the story is a little...well, a bit been there, done that.
January 1, 2016
One of my favorite comics. A magical realist multimedia story of artists (Leo the painter, Angel the musician, Jonathan the writer) in a London apartment building, Cages has a set of influences uncommon in Anglophone comics: Kafka and Schulz in literature, Svankmajer and the Brothers Quay in film, Schiele and Klimt in painting/illustration. The whole feels very European, even in its depiction of London, which is shown mostly as dim, narrow, winding, deserted, cobbled streets, a maze of cozy paranoia that reminds me that Kafka cited Dickens as an influence.
While there is a baseline of gestural drawing, mostly freehand brushwork, and nine-panel grids colored with a bluish tone, McKean employs photography, painting, collage, digital art to lift the story beyond the London apartment and into realms of myth and subjectivity. All of this is handled beautifully, justifying the term "graphic novel" in that pictures do--for theme, for character, for symbol--what words cannot. I think of the scene in which Leo the painter meets Karen in a jazz club and they talk for hours, falling into romantic sympathy. But Mckean, instead of giving us the conversation, gives us pages of flowing pictures, a dance of line and shadow, that shows their mutual attraction more than any literal conversation could.
McKean takes real aesthetic risks, tries things that are not guaranteed to work. In another astonishing passage, reminiscent of Beckett's drama, McKean spends fifty pages on the monologue of a lonely old woman in her apartment, talking to her parrot, avoiding the central tragedy of her life. The tone is perfectly balanced between the humor of the woman's malapropisms and the sorrow of her kind-heartedness and despair. I know of nothing else like it in British or American comics.
McKean writes marvelous dialogue, colloquial and expertly observed. His ventures into more literary territory--the prose creation myths that form the book's prologue; the excerpts from Jonathan Rush's novels--are less successful; his recasting of the Rushdie affair as a Christian assault on a white anti-Christian writer is well-meant if geopolitically unpersuasive, but his depiction of Rush's purgatorial exile, in which, due to some Kafkaesque bureaucracy, he "may only keep what cannot console [him,]" is ingenious. The book is not mainly not polemical--except for an ill-advised high-school lit-mag scene in which a despairing Jesus appears, cursing God for not existing--but there is a political undercurrent, an insistence on a multicultural secular London in which our main artist-protagonists, Leo and Angel, are Jewish and black. The jazz club in which Angel plays and Leo draws is named Katakumbe, an allusion, I believe, to a Weimar-era cabaret shut down by the Nazis. Art's peculiar discipline of learning to face the uncertain is pitted against the iron discipline of those who do not believe in the uncertain.
There is probably too much quirkiness in the secondary characters, too much English twee stuff that bears the now-kitschy impress of Gaiman, too much of a simplistic dismissal of religion that would eventually lead McKean to work with the dunderheaded Richard Dawkins--but this is all redeemed by the book's seemingly endless visual inventiveness and the intense interest of watching an artist actually seem to be experimenting, to be taking a journey across his material that surprises him as well as us. And for all the shallowness of some of the book's skepticism, its main point about art and the world--that the best art must combine mastery of material with humility of character, that a creative god would not be a god at all but only another artist trying to fill the blankness with something new--is moving and persuasive.
There is a plot here of sorts, but not one in which all our questions will be answered (who are the agents of Rush's imprisonment? why does Bill become a cat and then not a cat?), nor one that moves at a brisk clip. It is a book of many things, mysterious objects and mysterious creatures. It creates a world of its own, united in a tone, ultimately, of beguiled bemusement, of learning to enjoy the shadows even if you get out of the little cage and into the bigger one.
While there is a baseline of gestural drawing, mostly freehand brushwork, and nine-panel grids colored with a bluish tone, McKean employs photography, painting, collage, digital art to lift the story beyond the London apartment and into realms of myth and subjectivity. All of this is handled beautifully, justifying the term "graphic novel" in that pictures do--for theme, for character, for symbol--what words cannot. I think of the scene in which Leo the painter meets Karen in a jazz club and they talk for hours, falling into romantic sympathy. But Mckean, instead of giving us the conversation, gives us pages of flowing pictures, a dance of line and shadow, that shows their mutual attraction more than any literal conversation could.
McKean takes real aesthetic risks, tries things that are not guaranteed to work. In another astonishing passage, reminiscent of Beckett's drama, McKean spends fifty pages on the monologue of a lonely old woman in her apartment, talking to her parrot, avoiding the central tragedy of her life. The tone is perfectly balanced between the humor of the woman's malapropisms and the sorrow of her kind-heartedness and despair. I know of nothing else like it in British or American comics.
McKean writes marvelous dialogue, colloquial and expertly observed. His ventures into more literary territory--the prose creation myths that form the book's prologue; the excerpts from Jonathan Rush's novels--are less successful; his recasting of the Rushdie affair as a Christian assault on a white anti-Christian writer is well-meant if geopolitically unpersuasive, but his depiction of Rush's purgatorial exile, in which, due to some Kafkaesque bureaucracy, he "may only keep what cannot console [him,]" is ingenious. The book is not mainly not polemical--except for an ill-advised high-school lit-mag scene in which a despairing Jesus appears, cursing God for not existing--but there is a political undercurrent, an insistence on a multicultural secular London in which our main artist-protagonists, Leo and Angel, are Jewish and black. The jazz club in which Angel plays and Leo draws is named Katakumbe, an allusion, I believe, to a Weimar-era cabaret shut down by the Nazis. Art's peculiar discipline of learning to face the uncertain is pitted against the iron discipline of those who do not believe in the uncertain.
There is probably too much quirkiness in the secondary characters, too much English twee stuff that bears the now-kitschy impress of Gaiman, too much of a simplistic dismissal of religion that would eventually lead McKean to work with the dunderheaded Richard Dawkins--but this is all redeemed by the book's seemingly endless visual inventiveness and the intense interest of watching an artist actually seem to be experimenting, to be taking a journey across his material that surprises him as well as us. And for all the shallowness of some of the book's skepticism, its main point about art and the world--that the best art must combine mastery of material with humility of character, that a creative god would not be a god at all but only another artist trying to fill the blankness with something new--is moving and persuasive.
There is a plot here of sorts, but not one in which all our questions will be answered (who are the agents of Rush's imprisonment? why does Bill become a cat and then not a cat?), nor one that moves at a brisk clip. It is a book of many things, mysterious objects and mysterious creatures. It creates a world of its own, united in a tone, ultimately, of beguiled bemusement, of learning to enjoy the shadows even if you get out of the little cage and into the bigger one.
August 23, 2012
Wow.
Dave McKean, you need to do more solo work, because this was spectacular. As an artist, McKean has a keen (no pun intended) eye for composition and a skilled hand for form; every page is beautifully crafted and stylistically evocative, seamlessly blending a number of techniques, materials, and moods to tell an intricate visual story. His linework strikes a difficult and haunting balance between fine weightlessness and heavy schizophrenic uncertainty, while his broader brush strokes serve alternately to lighten, to darken, to evoke a sense of blank canvas, to suffocate, to give motion to the lines, and so on. I really could go on forever talking about the art in this book, and forever and a day talking about how perfectly the art amplifies the story and each individual character within. But my words would fall short of how stunning it is to feast your brain on, so you should probably just feed it to your own brain instead of listening to me.
As a writer, he is perhaps a touch over-explicit. Whereas the first 90% of the book is a beautiful enigma, he spells out a bit to plainly what his objective was by the book's conclusion. Nevertheless, his ideas are demonstrably ambitious and his execution remarkably thoughtful; he explores every angle of the book's themes, of which I can distinctly count about five and none of which were skimped on in the slightest. The story-within-a-story motif is pushed to its limits, creating an onion of narrative that echoes and adds to itself with every layer, often switching between layers like orchestral threads.... the musical analogy maintained throughout the story is, I think, particularly apt for describing the overall shape of it, and you could easily argue that metaanalysis itself is a sixth theme if you wanted to. And I think I do want to argue that, now that I think about it.
The book is ostensibly about God and creation, but I think reading too literally into that idea would be a misguided attribution, and scientists and atheists and other godless types should not shy away as a result. What McKean has created is, I think, a universally appreciable hymn to the intricate mess that is humanity and the impossibly recursive ways that our serendipitously meta-capable minds are equipped for thinking about it.
Dave McKean, you need to do more solo work, because this was spectacular. As an artist, McKean has a keen (no pun intended) eye for composition and a skilled hand for form; every page is beautifully crafted and stylistically evocative, seamlessly blending a number of techniques, materials, and moods to tell an intricate visual story. His linework strikes a difficult and haunting balance between fine weightlessness and heavy schizophrenic uncertainty, while his broader brush strokes serve alternately to lighten, to darken, to evoke a sense of blank canvas, to suffocate, to give motion to the lines, and so on. I really could go on forever talking about the art in this book, and forever and a day talking about how perfectly the art amplifies the story and each individual character within. But my words would fall short of how stunning it is to feast your brain on, so you should probably just feed it to your own brain instead of listening to me.
As a writer, he is perhaps a touch over-explicit. Whereas the first 90% of the book is a beautiful enigma, he spells out a bit to plainly what his objective was by the book's conclusion. Nevertheless, his ideas are demonstrably ambitious and his execution remarkably thoughtful; he explores every angle of the book's themes, of which I can distinctly count about five and none of which were skimped on in the slightest. The story-within-a-story motif is pushed to its limits, creating an onion of narrative that echoes and adds to itself with every layer, often switching between layers like orchestral threads.... the musical analogy maintained throughout the story is, I think, particularly apt for describing the overall shape of it, and you could easily argue that metaanalysis itself is a sixth theme if you wanted to. And I think I do want to argue that, now that I think about it.
The book is ostensibly about God and creation, but I think reading too literally into that idea would be a misguided attribution, and scientists and atheists and other godless types should not shy away as a result. What McKean has created is, I think, a universally appreciable hymn to the intricate mess that is humanity and the impossibly recursive ways that our serendipitously meta-capable minds are equipped for thinking about it.
July 18, 2025
elusive and loopy. sometimes its textual meaning isn't so clear and the plots don't end or cohere much, but the vibe always is. the art is brilliant. the darkness and the light sitting together. the hope next to the despair and the boredom. creation and the satisfaction of having created. it's very dreamy in that aspect, but also very personal without putting a distance between the reader and the creator. i really enjoyed this one.
February 10, 2017
Reading Cages is like reading Dubliners in an empty, darkened gothic cathedral on some sort of pleasant psychedelic drug. Peyote, maybe. I've never done peyote, but I imagine if you're comfortable in this scenario (let's say you're at home in darkened gothic cathedrals) and on the peyote it would only enhance the mysteriousness of the read.
That McKean's art is so sweeping in its blurry majesty is to be expected. I know him from his work with Gaiman, which was always special and individually striking to me, particularly his Sandman covers. So it was a pleasant surprise to find that his genius carries over on the storytelling level. The timing of the panels in this novel could not be better. Devastating and funny, the book takes liberal advantage of the form to seek out and emphasize what are - when it comes down to it - specific and relatable human moments.
The big surprise for me was how deftly McKean strung these moments together to characterize the neighborhood. Cages accesses the same subtle and sensitive world-building pleasures of Dubliners or Winesburg, Ohio, with a bit more magic and overt theorizing on the intentions of creation.
I'll read this again before long. There is so much to unpack. On the first read, the last two chapters felt like an abrupt stop, but it's possible I missed some resolution in my desire to get deeper into the narrative. And I rolled my eyes at few particularly overwritten sentences... Despite these quibbles, I enjoyed so much of this read that it earns five stars.
That McKean's art is so sweeping in its blurry majesty is to be expected. I know him from his work with Gaiman, which was always special and individually striking to me, particularly his Sandman covers. So it was a pleasant surprise to find that his genius carries over on the storytelling level. The timing of the panels in this novel could not be better. Devastating and funny, the book takes liberal advantage of the form to seek out and emphasize what are - when it comes down to it - specific and relatable human moments.
The big surprise for me was how deftly McKean strung these moments together to characterize the neighborhood. Cages accesses the same subtle and sensitive world-building pleasures of Dubliners or Winesburg, Ohio, with a bit more magic and overt theorizing on the intentions of creation.
I'll read this again before long. There is so much to unpack. On the first read, the last two chapters felt like an abrupt stop, but it's possible I missed some resolution in my desire to get deeper into the narrative. And I rolled my eyes at few particularly overwritten sentences... Despite these quibbles, I enjoyed so much of this read that it earns five stars.
March 4, 2017
Huh. McKean's magnum opus. But it's not really that good. It is long... I didn't find the artwork all that strong. I do like McKean's sketchy style though. I found myself enjoying some of the storylines but other stories went on too long. It was all plagued by pseudo-philosophical babble... but that can be interesting. I don't regret reading this, but it was certainly nothing fantastic.
July 11, 2016
Cages is a weird and cool comic highly inspired by Neil Gaiman. I'd best describe it as a metaphysical noir love story loosely framed within a magical realism context. I was trying to tell a friend about Cages and everything was going well until he asked me, "What's it about?" The question socked my brain. I stumbled over my thoughts. Cages doesn't have much in terms of plot: an artist moves into a city and meets strange people living around his apartment--and there's a black cat that visits everyone. When I say it that way, it sounds overly simplistic, but that's exactly the opposite of Cages.
So what does Cages offer? (I'm glad I asked) Cages creates incredible atmosphere and mood. It's like old school noir films where an entire scene features nothing but a man staring at pool table and smoking a cigarette. Hardly anything is happening, but at the same time there's so much substance if you care enough to open yourself to it. That's not to say that nothing happens in Cages. There's mysterious scenes in which the meaning is hidden by the threat of murder and acts of violence. Often, though, it's the natural darkness of night and people that cover everything.
Cages is a big comic that holds strong under it's own page count. I've read too many comics of ambitious size that end up floundering halfway through. That's why I'm extra happy that Cages stayed good all the way to the end. The story develops nicely and goes through jarring periods in bizarre scenes, only to recover with a smooth finish at the end of the chapter. Cages plays like experimental jazz, often going so wild that it dissolves into pure abstraction then rising from the musical madness with solid structure. Based on the content, I believe this was the aim of Dave McKean.
What I especially enjoyed was high level of introspection applied to the lives of strangers. Every day we pass by countless windows with hardly a clue as to how those people are dealing with life. Cages takes a voyeuristic trip into the lives of people who nearly have no impact on the main character's life. But it never feels like a waste of time. We get to see the real pain that only arises in the solitude of a home. The revelation of private feelings underlines how everyone wears a mask in their public life. Furthermore, we must penetrate these masks, while keeping our own, to create a genuine connection of love and friendship. It is a lonely task, often seeming hopeless. But we'll search because the reward is someone who'll nourish our soul and put aside our mask.
So what does Cages offer? (I'm glad I asked) Cages creates incredible atmosphere and mood. It's like old school noir films where an entire scene features nothing but a man staring at pool table and smoking a cigarette. Hardly anything is happening, but at the same time there's so much substance if you care enough to open yourself to it. That's not to say that nothing happens in Cages. There's mysterious scenes in which the meaning is hidden by the threat of murder and acts of violence. Often, though, it's the natural darkness of night and people that cover everything.
Cages is a big comic that holds strong under it's own page count. I've read too many comics of ambitious size that end up floundering halfway through. That's why I'm extra happy that Cages stayed good all the way to the end. The story develops nicely and goes through jarring periods in bizarre scenes, only to recover with a smooth finish at the end of the chapter. Cages plays like experimental jazz, often going so wild that it dissolves into pure abstraction then rising from the musical madness with solid structure. Based on the content, I believe this was the aim of Dave McKean.
What I especially enjoyed was high level of introspection applied to the lives of strangers. Every day we pass by countless windows with hardly a clue as to how those people are dealing with life. Cages takes a voyeuristic trip into the lives of people who nearly have no impact on the main character's life. But it never feels like a waste of time. We get to see the real pain that only arises in the solitude of a home. The revelation of private feelings underlines how everyone wears a mask in their public life. Furthermore, we must penetrate these masks, while keeping our own, to create a genuine connection of love and friendship. It is a lonely task, often seeming hopeless. But we'll search because the reward is someone who'll nourish our soul and put aside our mask.
August 8, 2010
this book felt more like a piece of music than a story. i love his art, too, but he's not for everybody.
January 13, 2020
My familiarity with Dave McKean's work comes from the artwork (covers etc.) he did for Sandman graphic novel. He mixed variety of forms and styles to generate his own brand of visual representation that made the Sandman covers stand out from its contemporaries.
I went into this this expecting the same and perhaps even a bit more. In a way this book is a true graphic novel. It's a story that relies heavily on visual aspects to make it complete. The story progression gets in sync with the art supporting it with every breath it takes. With mostly black and white and several homages to McKean's older works, Cages is an artistic journey of both the writer and the characters.
This story with its quirky characters are a decade too late to be appreciated. The mundane masked as special can get old pretty fast even though the surrounding art is compelling. The characters are tiresome and their ping-pong dialogue, weary.
Cages has to be read as a homage to several indie movies that went on to become cult classic several years after their release. With its ahead-of-the-game art and a laid back artsy story line, "Cages" has to be read once for the sheer brilliance in the way words and art merge.
I went into this this expecting the same and perhaps even a bit more. In a way this book is a true graphic novel. It's a story that relies heavily on visual aspects to make it complete. The story progression gets in sync with the art supporting it with every breath it takes. With mostly black and white and several homages to McKean's older works, Cages is an artistic journey of both the writer and the characters.
This story with its quirky characters are a decade too late to be appreciated. The mundane masked as special can get old pretty fast even though the surrounding art is compelling. The characters are tiresome and their ping-pong dialogue, weary.
Cages has to be read as a homage to several indie movies that went on to become cult classic several years after their release. With its ahead-of-the-game art and a laid back artsy story line, "Cages" has to be read once for the sheer brilliance in the way words and art merge.
October 17, 2014
"I was thinking that, despite much evidence to the contrary how could anyone not realise that this is just the best of all possible worlds."
These are the concluding words to Dave McKean's wonderful graphic novel. It's an impressive work of art, honest, a bit confusing and jumbled plotwise especially in the middle, but, Lo and behold does it finish with quite the bang.
Recommended for anyone looking for a multifaceted story that isnt in any way conventional, think Kabuki. Only Cages, deals with, well, cages… and how resonant its existential validations linger, how the question of God and our reduction of Him into some subjective figmented element is condensed into an understandable concept, or something like that… I don't know, I'm rambling, existential ramblings require more mental effort than I can afford for reviews.
Read this, if not for everything I've written above, then for Dave's insane artwork.
These are the concluding words to Dave McKean's wonderful graphic novel. It's an impressive work of art, honest, a bit confusing and jumbled plotwise especially in the middle, but, Lo and behold does it finish with quite the bang.
Recommended for anyone looking for a multifaceted story that isnt in any way conventional, think Kabuki. Only Cages, deals with, well, cages… and how resonant its existential validations linger, how the question of God and our reduction of Him into some subjective figmented element is condensed into an understandable concept, or something like that… I don't know, I'm rambling, existential ramblings require more mental effort than I can afford for reviews.
Read this, if not for everything I've written above, then for Dave's insane artwork.
May 24, 2016
Siin on nii palju asju koos. Esiteks puhas kunst, kus on nii palju vaadata ja kus igal vildakal joonel paistab tähendus olevat - lõpupoole on Otil mõned lehed voltimisjoontega ja pool aega olin ma veendunud, et nii peabki olema, sest iga eraldusjoon lehel teeb tegelased veel yksikumaks. Naljakas, kuidas korrapäratus ja kergelt nihkes joonistused tekitavadki hirmu, ei, "äng" on selle raamatu õige sõna.
Teiseks on see tõesti nagu novellikogu, kus siin ja seal jutustatakse lugusid, mis mõningal määral kokku lähevad. Tihtipeale tuleb yksildastest inimestest lugemise-vaatamise peale empaatia ja oh-me-kõik-inimkond-tunne peale, aga siin langes juba mõne lehekylje järel kivi sydamele ja rängalt, ma tegin lugedes paarinädalaseid pause, sest muidu ei jaksanud, aga nii vanatädi argijutustused kui ka Angeli esinemised mõjuvad lausa myytiliselt tähtsatena (ja vanapaar põgeneb lõpuks puudega tuppa!) ja kokku on see kõik vägev elamus. Ehkki raske.
Teiseks on see tõesti nagu novellikogu, kus siin ja seal jutustatakse lugusid, mis mõningal määral kokku lähevad. Tihtipeale tuleb yksildastest inimestest lugemise-vaatamise peale empaatia ja oh-me-kõik-inimkond-tunne peale, aga siin langes juba mõne lehekylje järel kivi sydamele ja rängalt, ma tegin lugedes paarinädalaseid pause, sest muidu ei jaksanud, aga nii vanatädi argijutustused kui ka Angeli esinemised mõjuvad lausa myytiliselt tähtsatena (ja vanapaar põgeneb lõpuks puudega tuppa!) ja kokku on see kõik vägev elamus. Ehkki raske.
December 14, 2018
I hated this graphic novel. A lot of people said they liked the art, but I wasn't seeing it. The cat was the only character I liked and probably because it didn't have any dialogue. This was like the graphic novel version of Waking Life (I hated that movie, BTW). It would ramble on and on and then practically break the fourth wall turning to the reader, winking as if to say 'That was deep, right? Super deep, right?'. Ugh. At one point it goes on for pages, PAGES, with some old lady flipping through her recipe cards. I'm not freaking kidding. By the time I neared the midway point I was so miserable that I looked at my stack of GNs that I couldn't wait to read and asked myself, why am I doing this? So I'm bailing. Maybe I'm a philistine, but this philistine is going to read better stuff.
October 6, 2007
fascinating look at creative process; not always the best writing or page layout in the world - hit or miss (when it hits, its really brilliant). But the art and ideas are great. Some absolutely gorgeous silent vignettes. Interesting comments on God - cycles of creation (god created us, we create gods); all is connected. Seems very pessimistic for most of it, but creativity (and the patterns of the universe) act as some measure of hope.
January 31, 2013
McKean is a fantastic artist. In this book he employs a linear illustrative style that at first may seem simple, but quickly elevates itself into a true artform.
And hey, not only does he gift us with some fine illustrations... he actually gives us a wonderful story.
And hey, not only does he gift us with some fine illustrations... he actually gives us a wonderful story.
January 8, 2024
komiks tak tezkej (fyzicky), ze kdyby mi spadl z postele, tak zabije stredne velkeho psa. a tezkej na cteni tak, ze chapu tak 60 % a to si verim. ale moc krasnej, kdyz jsem se koukala na prvni stranky, tak sem si rikala kamo, to je sandman (ano, je to pan co kreslil spoustu gaimanovych veci, to jsem nevedela predtim). je to o obyvatelech jednoho domu, maliri co hleda inspiraci, trumpetistovi, kterymu rikaj andel, spisovateli, co napsal kontroverzni vec o krestanech a musi byt zavrenej kvuli tomu uz rok doma se svoji zenou, kocce a pani, co ma papouska a ceka na manzela az se vrati domu, a jejich zivotech a jak se prolinaji a tak. ale dulezita a krasna je prave ta forma, kdyz jsou kapitoly o malirovi, tak tam jsou tam hodne umelecky cely stranky jak by kreslil, spis jak kresli a jak proziva to co se deje. u toho muzikanta tam jsou popisy tonin napasovany na situace, jsou tam kapitoly, uplne random - mimo dej a mimo formu, najednou to je kolaz z fotek a v ty pani (podle me uplne nahodna pani) vypravi dalsi pribeh, ktery je zase kresleny (proc? nevime), kousky knizky od toho spisovatele. neco jsou metafory, neco sny?, neco asi jen pribehy, neco magickej realismus, neco ne. je to plny uvah o zivote, bohu/bozich a tvorbe/umeni a inspiraci a cely je to uvedeny psanym pribehem o stvoreni sveta a taky tam buh mluvi s kockou. supr.
December 10, 2019
Jestem rozdarty między fochem na pretensjonalność i manierę tego komiksu, a podziwem dla wykreowanej rzeczywistości, tak wieloznacznej, onirycznej i na swój sposób pięknej. Trudno było przejść pierwszą połowę, ale druga czytała się sama. Trzeba wspomnieć o świetnej szacie graficznej ubarwionej fotografiami i momentami mocno abstrakcyjnymi. Ocena z czasem może rosnąć, bo to zdecydowanie pozycja do wielokrotnej lektury.
April 12, 2020
Recopilación en un tomo gigante de la serie. Lo mejor es, sin duda, las páginas donde el autor da rienda suelta a su particular estilo pictórico, a la mezcla entre el blanco y negro de la mayoría de las páginas y los ocasionales estallidos de color. Hay viñetas que son una maravilla compositiva y que podrían colgar en las paredes de una galería mejor que el cuadro negro que todo museo debe tener.
Pero la trama, aunque tiene momentos de gran belleza, se pierde cuando quiere ser profunda y casi mística, en ocasiones me ha parecido bastante pretenciosa. Pero no está mal del todo.
Pero la trama, aunque tiene momentos de gran belleza, se pierde cuando quiere ser profunda y casi mística, en ocasiones me ha parecido bastante pretenciosa. Pero no está mal del todo.
November 25, 2017
Another book I never read the whole thing when it came out or when I was really into the work of Dave McKean. I think this is my second attempt at reading it fully though. It is weird to read this and Preacher (Garth Ennis) now. These books seem to feel like they exist so much better in the 90's. Preacher does better, but Cages (with ponytail guy) reminds me of the movies and shoes that were popular at the time. Friends, Stephen King's It, Twin Peaks. etc. Dave McKean was all over the 90's. He's was kind of Godlike. Especially to artists (illustrators and indy comic book lovers). But like a lot of 90's artists they seem a bit dated. The ones that were popular mostly. McKean did hundreds of album covers. Hundreds of Comic Book covers and probably book covers. He defined a certain kind of style and although his work today is still impressive and beautiful some of the old stuff seems dated. The photo-manipulated stuff, the mixed media thing and the graphic design/lettering style. Him and a few other guys sometimes get lost in that 90's nostalgia. I'm sure it will rise again....tomorrow likely, but it does get a little dated. Cages is no exception. I had a few of the books, but only because the covers were so great. I hardly looked inside much cause most of the book carries a less impressive style that his other works...Arkham Asylum, Violent Cases, etc. Those are much more experimental and I loved those...looking at them anyways. Grant Morrison's Arkham is great and McKean made it what it was and still is. As a young artist it was what I hoped my own work would feel like one day. McKean combines both photography, mixed media and drawing beautifully to deliver certain emotions and Cages has that mostly bookended in each chapter. I enjoyed many parts, scenes..., but I did skip some of the lengthier parts and read the beginning and ending of it and I feel I got the gist of those particular stories. I think it failed in the sense that the story didn't move enough and the characters were stuck in this blow-hard kind of way for me. I didn't like many. I think maybe a scene with Angel when he delivered his grand spoken world performance was nice and his dialect felt real, but the other characters didn't mean much to me. The love story wasn't much though the art illustrated it lovely. I think the main character Leo (ponytail guy) wasn't someone you cared about. I think you need to care about someone. Especially with nearly 500 pages to go through though it did go fast as others described. I get sick of cats in these 90's books. I don't know, but many of them have cats in them usually black ones. I think it's just a style thing, but there are everywhere. In a lot of Vertigo books. Geezus the cats! I think artists just kind of see them and then they think they have to be in their own books and this book has a particular cat that goes in and out of the stories. I rather it be something else. A rat even, but that is still clichéd to death. So I was left kind of empty with this one, but I will attempt to read it again once time goes by. I don't think it will get any better. It is not that kind of book. Still something worth the time and effort and like most people have said the art is nice. His latest book "Dead Dog" I feel is better in many was. The art for one is exquisite and the story is fine, but McKean I think his art will always overshadow anything he does. It might be a good curse to have for some people.
January 17, 2013
Dopo aver letto per anni centinaia e centinaia di storie a fumetti, capita di rado che una nuova lettura riesca a sorprendermi.
Ma quando si parla di arte, il discorso è differente...
Concesso che ogni definizione di arte risente fortemente di esperienze e gusti personali, mi sento di affermare con convinzione che Cages è una vera opera d'arte. Un capolavoro, come raramente mi è capitato di leggerne.
Conoscevo McKean per le sue opere più "commerciali" e sempre comunque ben al di sopra della media: quelle scritte da Neil Gaiman ("Violent Cases" e "Black Orchid") e Grant Morrison ("Arkham Asylum"). Si tratta di bei fumetti, scritti da autori che stimo enormemente, ma che in definitiva restano comunque... bei fumetti.
Cages è tutt'altra cosa.
Stavolta McKean è autore di se stesso e dimostra, una volta di più, di essere un artista a tutto tondo.
Difficile decidere se in "Cages" quello che colpisce di più sia la trama, la narrazione o il disegno. Probabilemte si tratta dell'armonia tra tutte le componenti, anche se per me, che già conoscevo il talento incomparabile di McKean per le immagini, la sorpresa più grande è stata scoprirne le straordinarie doti di affabulatore.
Il fumetto nasce da una strana alchimia tra narrazione e disegno e, a differenza dell'illustrazione, deve essere capace di raccontare storie. Cages lo fa egregiamente, ma fa anche qualcosa di più.
McKean, con Cages, ci parla di mitologia e di creazione e, ad un livello più profondo, di fantasia e creatività; lo fa sia col testo che con i disegni.
Lo stile grafico continua a sorprendere pagina dopo pagina; l'autore è qui lontano dallo stile pittorico che lo ha reso famoso, giungendo ad una sintesi della linea potentissima ed evocativa.
Mi verrebbe da dire che Cages è un fumetto jazz e non perchè uno dei suoi protagonisti sia un musicista o perché McKean stesso sia pianista jazz.
L'impressione è quella di un'improvvisazione, con una struttura profonda ben definita (la riflessione sull'arte e la creatività) ma con tante variazioni sul tema.
I disegni ondeggiano continuamente arrivando fino all'astratto, in pagine di rara bellezza nelle quali non sai più sei stai guardando o ascoltando le immagini.
Difficile raccontare ed esprimere a parole il senso di un'esperienza che è soprattutto visuale
spero che quanto sopra serva almeno ad incuriosire e ad invogliare ad accostarsi all'opera di McKean.
Cages non dovrebbe mancare nella biblioteca di ogni appassionato di fumetto.
Ma quando si parla di arte, il discorso è differente...
Concesso che ogni definizione di arte risente fortemente di esperienze e gusti personali, mi sento di affermare con convinzione che Cages è una vera opera d'arte. Un capolavoro, come raramente mi è capitato di leggerne.
Conoscevo McKean per le sue opere più "commerciali" e sempre comunque ben al di sopra della media: quelle scritte da Neil Gaiman ("Violent Cases" e "Black Orchid") e Grant Morrison ("Arkham Asylum"). Si tratta di bei fumetti, scritti da autori che stimo enormemente, ma che in definitiva restano comunque... bei fumetti.
Cages è tutt'altra cosa.
Stavolta McKean è autore di se stesso e dimostra, una volta di più, di essere un artista a tutto tondo.
Difficile decidere se in "Cages" quello che colpisce di più sia la trama, la narrazione o il disegno. Probabilemte si tratta dell'armonia tra tutte le componenti, anche se per me, che già conoscevo il talento incomparabile di McKean per le immagini, la sorpresa più grande è stata scoprirne le straordinarie doti di affabulatore.
Il fumetto nasce da una strana alchimia tra narrazione e disegno e, a differenza dell'illustrazione, deve essere capace di raccontare storie. Cages lo fa egregiamente, ma fa anche qualcosa di più.
McKean, con Cages, ci parla di mitologia e di creazione e, ad un livello più profondo, di fantasia e creatività; lo fa sia col testo che con i disegni.
Lo stile grafico continua a sorprendere pagina dopo pagina; l'autore è qui lontano dallo stile pittorico che lo ha reso famoso, giungendo ad una sintesi della linea potentissima ed evocativa.
Mi verrebbe da dire che Cages è un fumetto jazz e non perchè uno dei suoi protagonisti sia un musicista o perché McKean stesso sia pianista jazz.
L'impressione è quella di un'improvvisazione, con una struttura profonda ben definita (la riflessione sull'arte e la creatività) ma con tante variazioni sul tema.
I disegni ondeggiano continuamente arrivando fino all'astratto, in pagine di rara bellezza nelle quali non sai più sei stai guardando o ascoltando le immagini.
Difficile raccontare ed esprimere a parole il senso di un'esperienza che è soprattutto visuale
spero che quanto sopra serva almeno ad incuriosire e ad invogliare ad accostarsi all'opera di McKean.
Cages non dovrebbe mancare nella biblioteca di ogni appassionato di fumetto.
March 29, 2016
High on the wonder that was The Sandman, but near the end of my first phase of comic collecting, I started grabbing the first issues of Cages when they were being released, but stopped, and due to their odd physical shape and my constant moving, they became damaged and it appears I no longer have them. I finally, over twenty years later, remembered that I haven't read these yet, and now I feel like a fool.
I mean, how had I gone so long without bathing in this wondrous work?
Seriously, I mean, how? Wit and wisdom...no one else needs to try to put those two together, because McKean already perfected the damn thing. Or am I being ironic in saying that?
Cages touched me philosophically, artistically, emotionally, spiritually. And who's to say those are really separate categories, or, ahem, separate cages?
We can stop caging things, and ourselves.
At one point I paused in reading in order to do some writing of my own. See, I was inspired, and I was actually happy with what I had written. If you know me, you know that's rare.
I just read a nice review I'd like to share with you all. It was written back in 2002 (still a decade after the work was done). Now, I see that they are doing a new printing of the full collection later this year (I saw that on Amazon myself). Anyway, check this out: http://www.bookslut.com/comicbookslut...
I mean, how had I gone so long without bathing in this wondrous work?
Seriously, I mean, how? Wit and wisdom...no one else needs to try to put those two together, because McKean already perfected the damn thing. Or am I being ironic in saying that?
Cages touched me philosophically, artistically, emotionally, spiritually. And who's to say those are really separate categories, or, ahem, separate cages?
We can stop caging things, and ourselves.
At one point I paused in reading in order to do some writing of my own. See, I was inspired, and I was actually happy with what I had written. If you know me, you know that's rare.
I just read a nice review I'd like to share with you all. It was written back in 2002 (still a decade after the work was done). Now, I see that they are doing a new printing of the full collection later this year (I saw that on Amazon myself). Anyway, check this out: http://www.bookslut.com/comicbookslut...
August 2, 2017
Non aspettatevi una trama concreta e razionale da questo volume, una storia che inizia, si sviluppa e arriva ad una conclusione. Cages è più una sequenza di situazioni, dialoghi, emozioni, impressioni, collegate da un esile filo conduttore (che sono i personaggi, ma forse neanche quelli).
McKean tenta di raccontare quello che passa per la mente di un artista durante il processo creativo, che sia questi uno scrittore, un pittore o un musicista (perchè McKean è anche un musicista, giusto per non farsi mancare niente accidenti a lui).
E per affrontare un tema del genere è indispensabile accantonare la razionalità e lasciarsi trasportare dell'istinto. Che è un po' quello che viene richiesto anche al lettore.
Se si è disposti ad accettare queste premesse, Cages ripaga alla grande, offrendo un'esperienza (non so come altro definirla) quantomeno unica. Il "mood" che McKean riesce a ricreare è qualcosa di incredibile, onirico, sfuggente, impalpabile, eppure intenso e viscerale.
Lo stile delle tavole è molto essenziale, sembrano quasi disegni tratteggiati a penna in fretta e furia (ma solo all'apparenza). Questo stile scarno viene spesso inframmezzato da tecniche che mischiano la fotografia e il ritocco digitale, creando un mix che è un po' il marchio di fabbrica di McKean, e che personalmente adoro. Prima o poi dovrò procurarmi qualche stampa da appendere in salotto.
McKean tenta di raccontare quello che passa per la mente di un artista durante il processo creativo, che sia questi uno scrittore, un pittore o un musicista (perchè McKean è anche un musicista, giusto per non farsi mancare niente accidenti a lui).
E per affrontare un tema del genere è indispensabile accantonare la razionalità e lasciarsi trasportare dell'istinto. Che è un po' quello che viene richiesto anche al lettore.
Se si è disposti ad accettare queste premesse, Cages ripaga alla grande, offrendo un'esperienza (non so come altro definirla) quantomeno unica. Il "mood" che McKean riesce a ricreare è qualcosa di incredibile, onirico, sfuggente, impalpabile, eppure intenso e viscerale.
Lo stile delle tavole è molto essenziale, sembrano quasi disegni tratteggiati a penna in fretta e furia (ma solo all'apparenza). Questo stile scarno viene spesso inframmezzato da tecniche che mischiano la fotografia e il ritocco digitale, creando un mix che è un po' il marchio di fabbrica di McKean, e che personalmente adoro. Prima o poi dovrò procurarmi qualche stampa da appendere in salotto.
September 17, 2009
Ok, this book is a tome of genius. Dave McKean's linework, humor, philosophizing, musical interest, and thoughts on religion are intriguing, heartbreaking(specifically the non-text panels)brilliant, sometimes rough(I find the religious bits kind of clumsy) but then-aren't we all kinda clumsy on this topic! Most of it reads as drawn from life (excuse all punning explicit or implicit here!)and I like all the scenes in the club.
It isn't one to read in one sitting (all issues), but after getting through them all, THEN re-read it - as much as possible. I come back to it when I need inspiration for my own work. (Consequently, I try not to come back to it too much, if it seeps into my work, I doubt anyone would be impressed with the effects!)
He draws better than anyone, and combines his photography very gracefully with the painting and drawing. Must see to believe :-)
It isn't one to read in one sitting (all issues), but after getting through them all, THEN re-read it - as much as possible. I come back to it when I need inspiration for my own work. (Consequently, I try not to come back to it too much, if it seeps into my work, I doubt anyone would be impressed with the effects!)
He draws better than anyone, and combines his photography very gracefully with the painting and drawing. Must see to believe :-)
July 31, 2013
Ponderous, melancholic, intense, Dave McKean's monster of a graphic novel is best read slowly over a series of overcast days. Its characters are odd and sometimes unsettling, making them, if anything, more magical. It's a great, weird read that feels like a quiet novel in comic form, choosing to include moments of silence that most comics would edit out for brevity's sake. The concepts are intriguing and the art styles, switching from sharp lines to out of focus photographs to drawings within photographs, helps the story maintain its immense depth of strange sadness.
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