Grant Morrison has been working with DC Comics for twenty five years, after beginning their American comics career with acclaimed runs on ANIMAL MAN and DOOM PATROL. Since then they have written such best-selling series as JLA, BATMAN and New X-Men, as well as such creator-owned works as THE INVISIBLES, SEAGUY, THE FILTH, WE3 and JOE THE BARBARIAN. In addition to expanding the DC Universe through titles ranging from the Eisner Award-winning SEVEN SOLDIERS and ALL-STAR SUPERMAN to the reality-shattering epic of FINAL CRISIS, they have also reinvented the worlds of the Dark Knight Detective in BATMAN AND ROBIN and BATMAN, INCORPORATED and the Man of Steel in The New 52 ACTION COMICS.
In their secret identity, Morrison is a "counterculture" spokesperson, a musician, an award-winning playwright and a chaos magician. They are also the author of the New York Times bestseller Supergods, a groundbreaking psycho-historic mapping of the superhero as a cultural organism. They divide their time between their homes in Los Angeles and Scotland.
I would enjoy Neal Gaiman more if he were a madman. Unfortunately, unless he starts making bookplates in the Blakean style, I don't think this will ever be remedied. He is a competent writer, and interesting, but rarely pushes the limits. Perhaps this shows that he is wise enough to recognize his own limitations, which is more than I can say for Morrison, especially in 'The Invisibles'.
Morrison never fails to push the boundaries, but this only makes it more and more apparent that he is not a visionary writer. Though he is an avid reader and draws from many eccentric sources, he never seems capable of combining them into something greater than the scattered parts.
Without a greater philosophical cosmology to tie things together, he ends up writing in a hodge-podge which has impressive breadth, but negligable depth. There are little spots now and again which go up to your calf, but the next step always lands on the careless sandbar of Morrison's ego.
The only thing that does connect all the disparate elements is the plot, but that isn't saying much. Morrison wasn't blessed with Alan Moore's ability to make a driving plot out of the bizarre, and Morrison's penchant for writing six titles a month certainly doesn't help anything.
Again, it is a matter of overextension. I am lucky enough to have more than a passing familiarity with a few of the mythologies he references. Unfortunately, this means that I can see the holes in his plots and references. Those with greater experience must find it even more disjointed.
However, for those with much less experience, the text seems revolutionary, since the facade covers much of the bare scaffolding. If you didn't know that he was scraping this all together week to week, you might wonder if the mistakes and confusion was just you 'not getting it'; in such straits, many readers fall back on a cautious sense of awe, not wanting to admit that they don't get it.
His King Mob character is set up to be the cool anti-hero, but since Morrison already finds his character to be interesting and sympathetic, he forgets to convince the reader of this fact. It should be unsurprising that Grant likes his character, since he's writing an author surrogate.
He can never seem to keep himself out of his comics, which is another symptom of his big ego. It was a half-hearted trick when he played it in Animal Man, but making a Gary Stu secret agent with an active sex life is even more cringe-worthy. It might not be so obvious if he didn't mention that 'he's still single!' in every other letters column.
It's been pointed out before that there are striking similarities between King Mob and Spider from Warren Ellis' 'Transmetropolitan'. They are both violent, outspoken anti heroes who look like Captain Picard in sunglasses with body mods.
The comparison favors Spider, who is a strong, entertaining, sympathetic character. This is despite the fact that he never eschews his spiteful take-no-prisoners exterior. Ellis manages to write an outspoken writer character who isn't just a mouthpiece for the author, for which he should win some sort of prize. Meanwhile, Morrison can't separate his authorial voice from a secret agent wizard.
Morrison also adds another protagonist to appeal to the kiddies, namely a troubled teen right out of the monomyth. Like every other monomyth hero, this character is rather empty, serving merely as a central focus for the frenetic action. Knowing Morrison, he's probably another author surrogate of how Grant imagines himself as a child.
Morrison does write interesting turns now and again, though the more he explicates, the less clever he becomes. I keep feeling like I'm going to be forced to rate this book lower, but something generally comes along and saves it.
As it is, I wish that it was more like some of Morrison's other work. He's at his best when he's not investing his ego in the outcome. His one-offs and fun little forays are great, but he takes his magni opera too seriously for them to succeed. Like Neal Stephenson, he's throwing everything he can in there to see what sticks. In the end, he's spending too much time on the peripherals, and not enough on the story and the characters.
I’m starting to feel that The Invisibles has become the literary equivalent of Grant Morrison staring at his reflection and touching himself.
I realised with the last volume that I don’t care about the characters or their story - both of which are paper thin, which is why I don’t care - and this volume hasn’t changed my opinion otherwise. So besides a bull-headed determination to finish the series, what’s keeping me going? The fact that it’s Grant Morrison writing this - man can do anything with his stories so he might be able to turn this around and/or surprise me with some amazing stuff.
… “might” being the operative word because the fifth volume took me about three weeks to get through, on and off, and wow, does nothing much happen!
This is the time travel volume and generally time travel stories are confusing as hell - and Counting to None is no exception. We find out Ragged Robin is from the future, there’s a time machine designed by a Japanese monk into origami, King Mob sends his spirit/soul/whatever back to the 1920s where he meets Edith, the old lady in the wheelchair from earlier books, who’s in the bloom of her youth, all to get something called the Hand of Glory that’ll do something.
Meanwhile, Boy gets brainwashed/de-conditioned by another Invisibles cell to remove the mind control implants or something Scientology-esque. The summary sounds a bit vague but I really don’t want to go back through the book to clarify, I’d rather just move on and finish!
At this point in the series, it really feels like we’re reading Morrison’s fantasies - he really wants to be the King Mob character. You can tell he loves him the most and makes him out to be the “coolest”, most hep cat of the group and everyone in the book knows it. The rest of The Invisibles know how shit hot cool they are, the other characters in the book know it - at one point, a room service guy says “are you guys in a rock band?” in awe. It’s so godawful to read! The Invisibles are the least cool, most annoying group of poseurs you’d be happy to see beaten with a crowbar!
I know Morrison can write like no-one else on certain books, but his most successful titles like All-Star Superman and his Batman run, were tightly plotted and focused; The Invisibles is Morrison throwing references out like a chicken farmer doling out birdseed.
I get that Morrison is a smart dude and he knows a lot about a lot, but the references rarely have anything to do with the story. Here’s a reference to this idea, and here’s another to this, and this, and, etc. - it’s a really shallow approach and that’s why reading this book in particular is so draining, because you want it to have a depth that you know Morrison is capable of but he doesn’t seem interested in aiming for here. He’s happy letting you know he’s studied the Gnosticism, the Tarot, Jungian philosophy and so on, rather than tell a story.
And if after all of that - hell, after five freakin’ volumes! - the reader is still wondering what the hell the overarching plot of The Invisibles is, then you’ve totally lost control and are just tugging it in the reader’s face.
I’m going to trudge my way through the remaining two books but I’ve officially lost interest in this series - Morrison’s a great writer but The Invisibles is a long way from being one of his best works.
In the fifth installment the Invisibles deal with time travel, mind control and acquiring “The Hand of Glory”. The latter can only be figured out by King Mob astral projecting back to the 1920s where he meets a younger version of one of his Invisible contacts/mentors which leads to a brief romance. Interesting time travel arc with Ragged Robin. I found this to be the best volume so far.
Note that while it isn't required it helps to have some knowledge of the following for this particular volume: astral projection, time travel, tantric sex, H.P. Lovecraft, Gnosticism, Mayan Calenders & Mythology, Jungian psychology, Karma, Tarot and I'm probably leaving a few other things out. Anybody ignorant enough to argue comic books are not art would be referred to this volume by yours truly.
Phil Jimenez continues to make some good impressions with his artwork but this would be his last time with the series. This is considered one of the classics and was said to have shaken up a stagnant period for comics/graphic novels. BBC started a TV series but it never saw the light of day. This series may have very well influenced movies like THE MATRIX and other such types.
ARTWORK: B plus to A minus; STORY/PLOTTING: B plus to A minus; CHARACTERS/DIALOGUE: B plus; THEMES/INNOVATION: A plus; WHEN READ: mid March 2012 ; OVERALL GRADE: A minus.
The Invisibles, Vol. 5: Counting to None was the first volume of The Invisibles that I ever read, so it holds a special place in my heart. Perhaps it was fortuitous that I started with this one, despite not knowing what the hell was going on, as it remains utterly fantastic. The main plot is fully underway and there is a huge amount going on, all of it compelling. I really like the sections set in the future (2012) and the past (1924), each wonderfully atmospheric and visually distinctive. I appreciate the rest of the team's complaints that King Mob's solution to all problems is shooting people. He's an assassin, but the rest are not. Dane and Lord Fanny dancing for the Harlequinade is delightful. Ragged Robin's backstory unfolds and we get an explanation for why Boy's felt flimsy in volume 3. There's also more about Tom O'Bedlam, who trained Dane in volume 1. Rather than focusing on direct conflict with the Archons, this volume partially unravels a series of interconnected mysteries.
There are several sequences in this volume that do pretty extraordinary things with the comic format that I've rarely if ever seen equalled in other series. The time travel sequences are amazing; art and writing combine to visceral effect. Scenes of violence and dancing have genuinely kinetic qualities. Every kind of weirdness that goes on feels immersive, somehow. Of particular note is the visualisation of the auto-critique linguistic weapon ("The most pernicious image of all is the anarchist hero-figure. A creation of commodity culture, he allows us to buy into an inauthentic simulation of revolutionary praxis.") The final section feels both incongruous and an extension of that auto-critique. It follows King Mob's alter ego Gideon Stargrave through a satire of Cool Britannia, complete with Spice Girls.
It is of course impossible to read sci-fi set in a future that has already gone by without comparing the prediction and reality. Ragged Robin mentions a 'kind of worldwide 'flu epidemic' in 2010, although this is blamed on nanotech rather than mutating coronaviruses. Flatscreens, pervasive immersion in media, and wrist computers are decent predictions. Actual 2012 had fewer recreational brain implants, sexbots, and smart drugs, though. When reading in 2022 (truly a futuristic-looking year!) rather than 2000, this version of 2012 can be classified as an alternate universe instead. This doesn't change the reading experience as much as I expected.
I'm formulating some thoughts about how the art and plot situate the five members of the Invisibles as each emerging from a different genre. It'll be interesting to see how these develop in the two final volumes. I remember very little about the last, other than not understanding it, but recalled The Invisibles, Vol. 5: Counting to None very clearly.
I honestly don't know if I'm getting all of Invisibles or not. As I read the trades, I find myself alternating between being intensely absorbed in what I'm reading and wondering how the hell the story got to that point. This one was no exception. I don't know if it's me, or if there really isn't anything more that I'm missing. Maybe it's both. This is Morrison, after all.
A bit more story here! I like the double agent thing and they seem to be moving towards a plot unification, which is a little overdue for me. Im sure Im missing a lot but the world is begining to feel a lot more willy-nilly, which is unsatisfying to me
Complex, sophisticated, dense, out-there, trippy, crazy, deep, confusing, heady, philosophical, intellectual, bizarre... these are the kinds of descriptors I've seen attached to The Invisibles, and this impression is what attracted me to the series. I've seen a lot of people say that they found series hard to follow, usually implying that they're not quite smart enough to "get" all of Morrison's ingenious concepts. However, for the first four volumes, this has not been my experience at all. On the contrary, I've generally found The Invisibles less cerebral and conceptually rich than other big "British Invasion" DC series I've read, such as Neil Gaiman's Sandman, Alan Moore's Swamp Thing and Peter Milligan's Shade. Instead, The Invisibles has mostly paid lip service to philosophy and psychedelia while delivering an unremarkable if slightly convoluted plot, with lots of action and the general feel of a corny '90s superhero comic.
However, Volume 5, Counting to None, has somewhat bucked this trend. It hasn't completely shed the juvenile sense of "cool" that infects the series, but it has dialled up the complexity and intellectual intensity, ultimately making things a lot more interesting.
One striking thing about this volume is the way it cuts from one scene to another with little or no explanation, a disorientating effect that's a major factor in making this is the first volume of the series that I find difficult to follow. At times this can be a little annoying, but I generally like the way that it keeps me on my toes and makes me work to understand what's going on. The technique is especially effective when used to impart a sense of warping reality or slipping sanity – Morrison finally succeeds in making me feel the madness, rather than just looking at it.
The plot is still held back by the two-dimensional characters and the tendency to keep introducing new villains with shallow (or no apparent) motivation, but Morrison compensates for this somewhat with his interesting ideas and world-building. I particularly enjoyed the American Death Camp arc (issues #11 and #12), an intense, mind-bending episode that's a definite highlight of the series so far.
Almost all of the art is by Phil Jimenez and John Stokes. Their work is mostly fine (especially compared to Steve Yeowell's ugly art earlier in the series), and there are occasionally really nice panels, but there's no subtlety in the way they do facial expressions. I guess it's just a feature of the genre, but the exaggerated looks of terror, anguish and rage tend to look ridiculous to me, and take me out of the story. Another bizarre problem is that the artists reveal themselves to be incapable of drawing East Asians: this volume prominently features several Japanese characters and one Chinese man, and the Japanese people basically look European, while the Chinese character actually looks like a white guy in yellowface.
Overall, then, I thought this volume was good compared to the rest of the series so far, but still not great. Iffy art and weak characterization detract from some cool ideas and engaging psychedelia.
Y sigue la fiesta lisérgica de Los Invisibles en el tercer tomo de esta colección en la Biblioteca Morrison de ECC, con los primeros doce números del segundo volumen de la serie, en la que continúa la historia de este particular grupo y sus no menos particulares enemigos, y que cuenta con los espectaculares lápices de Phil Jiménez como respaldo a una historia que tiene todo lo mejor (o lo peor, según se mire y quién lo lea) de un Grant Morrison completamente desatado.
Las historias recogidas en este tomo nos llevan en una trama conspiranoica perdida que haría las delicias de los negacionistas rollo Miguel Bosé, donde se habla de virus inteligentes, vacunas de control, experimentos gubernamentales, etc... Y en la que el equipo King Mob, Boy, Ragged Robin, Lord Fanny, Jack y Mason tienen que hacer frente al ejército de los Estados Unidos y a una criatura telépata capaz de hacerse con el dominio de las mentes de otros, en busca de lo que parece ser la vacuna contra el SIDA... Y que es algo mucho más, tan completamente desquiciante y morrisoniana que pone los pelos de punta. Y por otro lado, centrándose en los personajes de Ragged Robin y Boy, vamos a viajar al pasado y al futuro para hablar del viaje en el tiempo, y de un artefacto místico, la Mano de Gloria, que va a poner en peligro la propia estructura de los Invisibles.
Y en fin, que es Morrison y todo lo que Morrison representa, historias que te dejan con la boca abierta o hacen que se te derrita el cerebro, e incluso las dos cosas al mismo tiempo en la mayor parte de las ocasiones.
Este tomo avanza la trama general con tremendas novedades y guarda nuevas historias cortas relacionadas con Los Invisibles, que se remontan al “pasado” de los personajes y enlazan con la historia de la guerra secreta a la que se enfrenta la humanidad.
Tiene giros importantes que te dejan patidifuso, desvaríos a raudales de Morrison, un escupitajo al orden establecido. Pero también el cierre del tomo deja un poco con sensación de faroleo, de que han jugado con nosotros. Y es una sensación que no sé si tomármela como buena o mala. Pese a todo, el cómic sigue siendo realmente bueno.
Here we are: the fifth graphic novel of the series and the second foray into Volume Two of the series. This book keeps up the "blockbuster" feel of the second volume while almost completely morphing back into Volume One of the series in the "Sensitive Criminals" story arc (issues 8-10).
The ultra-violent scenes and explicit (but tastefully drawn) sex which have become hallmarks of Volume Two continue to permeate this book. There's even some double agent action in this one as we see one of the members of this cell of The Invisibles go rogue, but there is still enough focus on things like Jazz music and the 1920's, the Invisible College (in which we see members Jim Morrison, Sid Vicious and his murdered girlfriend Nancy Spungen, and Bootsy Collins), a theory as to the true nature of the universe, and the mention of REX84 (again) to make this the series that continues to quicken our brains as well as our pulses.
Phil Jimenez unfortunately left the series after this book, but shows some spectacular artwork within.
"Counting to None" continues the "The Invisibles" as not just a work of fiction, but an experience you'll never have anywhere else.
*-This paperback also includes the story "And We're All Policemen" from Vertigo's "Winter's Edge" (1998) which sort of takes King Mob out of the context of Invisibles and takes place chronologically after the entire series. Helpful, because now you don't have to seek out the Winter's Edge trade if you want this story (which you do).
What I really like about The Invisibles is how much time Morrison gives to the character arcs amid all the crazy apocalyptic "mad" ideas. Ragged Robin's back story comes out, King Mob starts to question the violence of his actions, and Boy goes through a mental and emotional wringer of brainwashing and counter-brainwashing. Fanny and Jack come off as the sanest of the bunch! And still plenty of action and intrique and snappy one-liners. Lark draws only one eight-page flashback sequence, and Weston pencils one issue over Jimenez's layouts. The rest is all Jimenez, giving the book the most consistent artistic voice of any Invisibles collection.
Bond draws a short story that appeared in one of the Vertigo: Winter's Edge specials. It's unrelated to the series, really, casting King Mob as a pop star so Morrison can try to info-overload readers and spout off little catchphrases about pop culture making people into consumer slaves.
As always, another fantastic Volume of The Invisibles. Now I have only 2 more Volumes of this series I believe... which is actually very very disappointing... I really wish this series was much longer...
Anyway, I've read enough of The Invisibles to know that I'm going to enjoy every Volume... every issue... every single page of this crazy mindfuck of a series.
I loved what they did with Boy's backstory in this Volume! Really cool twists and turns they put the reader through! And while I saw most of it coming... anticipated it... A lot more of it totally caught me off guard! Fantastic book! Once again absolutely BEAUTIFUL artwork by Mr. Phil Jimenez... In my opinion, he should have drawn the entire fucking series! The book is at its prime when his art is on display. Especially teamed up with John Stokes, the inker for Volume 4! If only the entire series was just drawn and inked by that pair!!! But alas... oh well...
I can't wait to get Volume 6 from Half Price Books!
This series is starting to get really good. I am reading the Invisibles for a group read/discussion on Facebook. We are reading about 4 issues a week, but I am starting to read ahead. The concepts in this comic are just really interesting. Time travel, alien abduction experiences, and secret societies are all standard in the Invisibles. Invisibles is adult reading, as it is at times vulgar and violent, though maybe vulgar isn't the right word? Lots of cussing at points, lots of graphic violence, some racist language, though it is by racist characters, but I'm not trying to justify it. Definitely some off color language. I will say this volume is a little more coherent for a Morrison comic book, though some of it is still a little convoluted. Recommended for fans of Grant Morrison and the Matrix films.
At this point, I'm only sticking around because a) my friend praised Morrison's work to hell and back and I'm still looking for that brilliance, 2) for Lord Fanny/Hilde, because she is the life of the party, and d) the excuse to read sex without resorting to actual porn and being an outright deviant.
I don't get how I managed to push through this volume in just a few hours, coming out with a headache and a twinge of frustration over wasting my time. Oh, and the subplot with Boy's psychological torment. That was so... pointless and the reason behind it was so flimsy and crappy that for once, I actually agree with King Mob.
This was not fun to read. I'm hoping the last two will be bearable, if not spectacular.
Sì, Ragged Robin in tutina con calze a rete continua ad essere davvero "hot". Peccato che, dopo un primo volume "tranquillo", in questo TP di Invisibles il buon vecchio Grant si riveli per quello che è: un casinista immondo. Questo fumetto richiede un botto di concentrazione per essere letto (e comunque per non riuscire a ricordare / capire tutto). La domanda che rimane dopo questo assurdo vortice di colori, mostri alieni e paradossi temporali è: ma perchè non calmarsi, fare respirare di più la storia ed essere clementi con il lettore?
After the previous volume went to some odd areas of conspiracy theory that were problematic, to say the least, this book bounces back in ways most welcome. Namely, it just leaps headlong into weirdness. Time travel, smoke and mirrors, and just plain anarchy take center stage. The last odd bit, a hallucinatory commentary on practically every facet of modern Western culture, is as amusing as it is incomprehensible. On the whole, this volume might be a sort of left turn in the flow of the Invisibles story, but it was a thrill to read that just may yet prove to much more than an odd interlude.
Just brilliant, repaying careful attention to previous issues and still feeling like the most coherent of all Morrison’s big idea stuff. There’s more of a structure to it and more of a sense of pace, frequently building to some genuinely brilliant ideas. Of course not all these ideas are original, but Morrison has never been afraid to borrow/ steal from the best: a great deal of the plot now feels it relies from a reading of Tony Burgess’ Pontypool Changes Everything but just taking the ideas in different directions. I think this might rival Zenith as the best thing he’s ever done
I find Morrison's approaches to time travel and simulacra in this volume interesting, but neither feels like necessary reader. I definitely enjoyed this volume more than some readers as I find joy in subversion, but for readers expecting a more conventional approach to story telling may be underwhelmed by how Morrison resolves arcs. I recommend this only to people already invested in the larger story.
This series is pretty much a blend of different moments of history that existed and tying them together to create a narrative that revolves around the counter-culture surrealism and fantastical sci-fi, there is a lot of action mixed with exploring mad underground scenes, kinks, philosophy and mythology and deciphering mysteries behind the powers that be. It has a wonderful array of scenes that build well and incorporate depth.
Both the highest point and the lowest point both so far. The ending was great; Boy’s whole V for Vendetta style arc was cool. The time traveling to the 20s parts were a mess though. Remains visually and aesthetically in general one of the coolest things I’ve ever come across, but I can already see a second read-through would probably be devoid of an impression. Maybe not though, maybe it would click more then
The Invisibles Vol. 5, “Counting to None,” introduces some of the most stimulating concepts in the series, including Terence McKenna’s (RIP) fractal timewave graph, situationist theory, and my favorite concept, the origami time machine, which teaches that “…time, like space, also has more than one dimension.” (If folds of paper represent and create folds in space, do the conceptual folds of a poem represent and create folds in time? Do simultaneous folds in spacetime require origami-poems?)
Invisible Ragged Robin uses a timesuit built from the origami time machine—which is from the past and the future of the comic’s “present,” 1997—to travel from 2012 into the past, where she experiences time as an object, a hologram of two universes overlapping. The key to Ragged Robin’s timeline integrity is a photograph she carries of two cloud patterns that are exactly the same, taken in different places at different times. “Fractal patterns repeat themselves through time, like backgrounds in cartoons.” It’s no surprise that a photograph represents objective reality, the key to time travel for the Invisible time scientist. However, at one point, we see the time scientist more interested in the material used for the photograph than the photograph’s content. Poetry is like a photograph when its subject-position is the paper or the pixel….
Ragged Robin, who has replaced King Mob as the leader of the Invisibles in a ritual of randomized selection--they’re occult-anarchists, after all--escapes to another universe with King Mob where the Invisible College resides, looked after by the Harlequinade, a psychically-linked trio that includes the Harlequin, also known as The Invisible Prince. The Harlequin gives Invisibles Jack Frost and Lord Fanny the time-bending Hand of Glory, a “potential weapon in the struggle for liberty,” which Invisible Boy steals under the influence of a mind control implant that produces multiple secret identities within her, driving her mad until rescued by Invisibles Cell 23, who saves her through what King Mob criticizes as overly Big Brother methods.
Yet just as King Mob accuses Invisibles Cell 23 of going too far, he becomes more and more conflicted with the violent actions he takes to be an Invisible, and Jack Frost, who fell apart after killing a man in self-defense, quietly questions the violence King Mob and the others are using to save the world(s). That Invisibles Cell 23, King Mob, and Jack Frost all have varying levels of acceptance for violent methods in the struggle for freedom is one of the many subtle and thought-provoking themes in the series. After being dosed by the enemy with “viral words” from the 64 letters of the alphabet, King Mob says in distorted lettering: “The most pernicious image of all is the anarchist hero-figure. A creation of commodity culture, he allows us to buy into an inauthentic simulation of revolutionary praxis.” In an earlier panel, a woman stands in front of Picasso’s “Guernica”; later we learn that the first “King Mob” died at Guernica in 1937 on his way to fight against Franco’s fascists in the Spanish Civil War. Even earlier, our King Mob explains to his old girlfriend Jackie, who he still loves and knew when he was a writer and not yet an Invisible, that he is fighting the enemy because they want to enslave everyone. She rebuts his argument by quoting Philip K. Dick: “To fight the empire is to be infected by its derangement.”
After dosing the Invisibles with the word virus, the enemy scoffs at their 24-letter “slave language” and says, over a psychedelic background of images and unknown letters: “There are…things all around. Things you never see because you don’t have the words, you don’t have the names. You only learned the 26-letter alphabet. Here are some names for things.” The invisible dimensions of reality can only be experienced once a language is discovered (or created). Commenting on the enemy’s language in a way that could also describe the relationship between expository writing and poetry, Jack Frost says: “If our words are circles, theirs are bubbles.”
In 1924, Invisible Edie Manning, lover of King Mob in both the comic’s “present” and “past,” is training her cousin, Frederick, who has chosen the Invisible name, "Tom O’Bedlam," to be one of the great magicians. (We know that she succeeds; Tom O’Bedlam is Jack Frost’s teacher, responsible for showing him Barbelith.) Frederick’s father worries that his son doesn’t understand the “madness” and “darkness” of the magical name he gives himself; Frederick/Tom O’Bedlam also worries that he’ll go mad. Edie has to remind Frederick that Edgar, in his guise as Tom O’Bedlam in “King Lear,” is only pretending to be mad....
Edie receives the Hand of Glory from the Harlequin. Shortly after she hears a message:
Edie: Where are we going?
Barbelith: Home.
Barbelith: Try to remember.
Edie begins writing a novel of her life--excerpts of which appear throughout the issues in this volume. At one point she wonders, “how can we be in so many places at once?” Earlier, Ragged Robin, when describing what it was like to time travel, says, “I could see all of it and…it wasn’t exactly below me, it was something else; I’d moved in a direction I hadn’t even thought of until then…” Like love.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I don't know how many drugs Morrison did before, during, and after writing The Invisibles, but this comic is an LSD trip in the killer-rollercoaster of the non-sense paranoid playground of elder gods.
Nothing more to say, if you like over the top crazy stuff, go and read it
Pd : for maximum pleasure, recommended to have a dose of your favorite psychedelic drug at hand ...
I loved the 1920s storyline- of the past and future existing as one-- so beautifully rendered and there are so many plot lines but never was confused and followed it the whole way. The second subplot of Boy having so many layers to have to get through to get beyond the microchip planting was way more confusing. But still satisfying.
I don't think King Mob is a cool or interesting character, I don't like what they did with Boy in this one, and a lot of this is just pure nonsense. It's all just psychedelic masturbatory tail-chasing, amounting to nothing more than "It was all just a dream but does that mean it wasn't real?" etc. I'm gonna finish the series but I'm skeptical.
Another favourite volume of mine. I think if you're on board with what Morrison has been doing up until this point, there's little chance this won't be a favourite of yours too.
Definitely the most brain-bending chapter so far, but also the most cathartic.
The thing about Morrison's writing on The Invisibles is that he lets you know exactly what he's been reading. He should included a Reading list and Magic tips in each book. you know for the kids.