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Abaddon #1-2
The Abaddon
A young man finds himself trapped in a bizarre apartment with a group of ill matched roommates. He quickly discovers that his new home doesn't adhere to any rational laws of nature, and poses a strange enigma, a puzzle he must solve to escape. It's no help that both him and his roommates are missing crucial parts of their memories and identities; he must try and gather the missing pieces as he struggles to find a way out. This existential mystery, loosely based on Jean Paul Sartre's play "No Exit", lures you, the reader, into a horror house of lust, angst, and madness; As you venture deeper and deeper into the darkest recess of The Abaddon, you will begin to wonder if you'll ever see the light of day again.
240 pages, Hardcover
First published April 25, 2013
2 people are currently reading
116 people want to read
About the author
Koren Shadmi
27 books87 followersKoren Shadmi is a Brooklyn Based illustrator and Cartoonist; he earned his degree in Illustration in 2006 from the School of Visual Arts in New York. His graphic novels have been published in France, Italy, Spain, Israel, and the US.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 33 reviews
September 21, 2018
Though inspired by Sartre's existentialist play No Exit, the overall feeling I had while reading this was more reminiscent of experiencing Scorsese's After Hours or Linklater's Waking Life for the first time, due to a similar eerie, dream-like atmosphere, and the same sense of being hopelessly trapped in that dream/nightmare (a twisted version of NYC's Soho in the former film, and an ultra tripped-out Philosophy 101 course in the latter). In The Abaddon, the MC finds himself imprisoned in a giant Möbius strip of an apartment complex, with no real sense of who he is or how he got there, and the many interesting and eccentric/insane characters he meets along the way are little to no help at all.
The first third or so failed to engage me as much as I'd hoped going in; I had no real attachment to Ter, our protagonist, and the idea of being stuck in one room with these characters for 240 pages wasn't very appealing. But as little shreds of Ter's previous life come to light -- through small glimpses of dreams and memories -- I slowly became more and more connected to the story, especially once it branches out beyond the one small flat. It's truly weird, in the best sense, but it's not all just weirdness for weirdness' sake. There is meaning here, and that makes it a much more intriguing story, and more absorbing as well, as opposed to just a bunch of surreal nonsense. Even though I love me some surreal nonsense (and there is some of that here).
I've seen reviewers here and elsewhere criticize the story, or lack of story, pointing out how "obvious" the mystery was. Yes it's obvious what's been going on, but that's not really the point at all. I mean, there are mysterious elements, but the fun comes not from trying to figure out where Ter is, but from soaking in the overall creepy, ominous atmosphere and trying to make connections between this foggy dream existence and Ter's previous incarnation. But I suppose not everyone is familiar with No Exit, or has read all the promotional blurbs comparing The Abaddon to it. I'm glad I was, or I may have went into this with a different -- and possibly less conducive -- mindset.
Fans of the aforementioned movies, Kafka, Charles Burns (especially his later comics like Last Look a.k.a. the X'ed Out trilogy), and Daniel Clowes' stranger stuff should feel right at home here. The artwork is deceptively simple yet alluring, which I suppose one could also say about Burns and Clowes, but Shadmi definitely has his own style. I look forward to digging into more of his work.
4.0 Stars.
June 11, 2016
La storia è davvero claustrofobica (e io amo le storie claustrofobiche). Il protagonista, Ter, si ritrova in un appartamento, apparentemente in affitto, da cui non riesce a uscire e in cui dovrà convivere con quattro coinquilini alquanto bizzarri e "disfunzionali", per così dire. Cercherà sia di trovare una via d'uscita, sia di ricostruire i suoi ricordi, che gli si presentano sotto forma di sogni lucidi, secondo le sue parole più reali della realtà che sta vivendo. Anche noi lettori scopriremo la sua storia e il suo passato insieme a lui, perché il nostro punto di vista resta sempre (tranne in alcune vignette singole in cui abbiamo delle panoramiche sugli ambienti) quello del protagonista. Nella seconda parte la storia del presente si fa sempre più delirante e surreale, mentre il passato di Ter diventa più chiaro (almeno apparentemente, devo ancora decidere se ci sono dei punti che potrebbero non essere andati come sembra).
Qualche cenno allo stile: ho letto che è stato fatto a matita e poi colorato con Photoshop, è abbastanza (volutamente) sporco, infatti si vedono le linee delle matite. I colori che dominano sono per il presente il verde "malato" che si vede anche nella copertina, e il rosa, anche quello quasi "radioattivo" (e questa parola non l'ho usata a caso); per i ricordi l'arancio, i toni del marrone e comunque colori più caldi. Nel presente ci sono anche figure geometriche come spirali e labirinti, e certi ambienti contribuiscono a dare la sensazione di claustrofobia. E ci sono due pagine completamente nere, che non ti aspetti e che restituiscono bene la sensazione di "black-out" di quel momento.
Per molti versi mi ha ricordato L'uomo sulla bicicletta blu di Lars Gustafsson, anche se questo l'ho preferito perché meno confusionario e perché secondo me una storia del genere rende molto meglio come graphic novel.
*SPOILER*
Possibili interpretazioni: quella più "letterale", come suggerisce anche il titolo, è che ci troviamo in una sorta di inferno dantesco, dove ognuno è "condannato" a ripetere le stesse azioni e i medesimi comportamenti (Ter a consegnare i cioccolatini che lo hanno ucciso e poi a tornare all'appartamento, Vic a essere violento e geloso e a imprigionare Ter, Bet a essere l'oggetto del desiderio ecc. -oltre che la madre incestuosa di freudiana memoria).
Un'altra interpretazione è che si tratti di una metafora della società, con l'incomunicabilità, l'impossibilità di uscire da una realtà che si ripete sempre uguale, gli esseri umani vittime delle proprie ossessioni e dei propri schemi di comportamento, la ricerca dell'identità (del passato e delle proprie origini).
Ma c'è anche una critica alla guerra (l'autore è di origine israeliana ed è stato sottoposto alla leva obbligatoria), che lascia traumi difficilmente superabili (un mio sospetto era che il protagonista si fosse in realtà suicidato- quando parla al telefono con il padre si vede che abusa di farmaci e alcool) e dove nessuno è un eroe.
Figure che mi sono piaciute, ma che non so bene come interpretare: il generale "illusionista" e usurpatore del trono di Satana (?); la donna/fantasma che incarna sia la lussuria che la madre.
Ho trovato spiazzante e piacevolmente "pop" il riferimento alle pin-up, alla pornografia di serie B e a... Dino de Laurentiis (!)
E il maialino che si chiama Beatrice, forse è un riferimento ironico e antifrastico a Dante?
Qualche cenno allo stile: ho letto che è stato fatto a matita e poi colorato con Photoshop, è abbastanza (volutamente) sporco, infatti si vedono le linee delle matite. I colori che dominano sono per il presente il verde "malato" che si vede anche nella copertina, e il rosa, anche quello quasi "radioattivo" (e questa parola non l'ho usata a caso); per i ricordi l'arancio, i toni del marrone e comunque colori più caldi. Nel presente ci sono anche figure geometriche come spirali e labirinti, e certi ambienti contribuiscono a dare la sensazione di claustrofobia. E ci sono due pagine completamente nere, che non ti aspetti e che restituiscono bene la sensazione di "black-out" di quel momento.
Per molti versi mi ha ricordato L'uomo sulla bicicletta blu di Lars Gustafsson, anche se questo l'ho preferito perché meno confusionario e perché secondo me una storia del genere rende molto meglio come graphic novel.
*SPOILER*
Possibili interpretazioni: quella più "letterale", come suggerisce anche il titolo, è che ci troviamo in una sorta di inferno dantesco, dove ognuno è "condannato" a ripetere le stesse azioni e i medesimi comportamenti (Ter a consegnare i cioccolatini che lo hanno ucciso e poi a tornare all'appartamento, Vic a essere violento e geloso e a imprigionare Ter, Bet a essere l'oggetto del desiderio ecc. -oltre che la madre incestuosa di freudiana memoria).
Un'altra interpretazione è che si tratti di una metafora della società, con l'incomunicabilità, l'impossibilità di uscire da una realtà che si ripete sempre uguale, gli esseri umani vittime delle proprie ossessioni e dei propri schemi di comportamento, la ricerca dell'identità (del passato e delle proprie origini).
Ma c'è anche una critica alla guerra (l'autore è di origine israeliana ed è stato sottoposto alla leva obbligatoria), che lascia traumi difficilmente superabili (un mio sospetto era che il protagonista si fosse in realtà suicidato- quando parla al telefono con il padre si vede che abusa di farmaci e alcool) e dove nessuno è un eroe.
Figure che mi sono piaciute, ma che non so bene come interpretare: il generale "illusionista" e usurpatore del trono di Satana (?); la donna/fantasma che incarna sia la lussuria che la madre.
Ho trovato spiazzante e piacevolmente "pop" il riferimento alle pin-up, alla pornografia di serie B e a... Dino de Laurentiis (!)
E il maialino che si chiama Beatrice, forse è un riferimento ironico e antifrastico a Dante?
January 21, 2018
First, I want to say that Koren Shadmi is a versatile artist, but one who seems to gravitate towards a kind of mirroring and balance between internal and external experience. Or perhaps it is more of a wrestling match. A struggle. His individual images seen in his site's editorial works http://www.korenshadmi.com/works/edit... have a kind of balanced unbalancing quality. They are a bit aggressive in their insistence on looking into, through, and past things all at once. They seem to want to pull you toward falling into existential questioning or dismay. Every image has meaning and menace, and transforms itself over time into a kind of surreal and labyrinthian wake up call. Wake up, and find out you are dreaming. And dream until you realize this nightmare is your life. But no, your life is only dreaming itself into... What parts of "you" and "not you" are legible?
But here I am, getting ahead of myself and falling behind, entering into the graphic novel without meaning to. I see now how my reading of Abaddon is influencing my reading of these editorial images, and how my reading of the editorial images will influence my review of Abbadon.
Shadmi is a moral and existential philosopher of sorts. (Of Sartres?) He writes Abaddon--a Hebrew word for angel of death or something along the lines of a hellish afterlife--as a retelling of or reflection upon Sartre's No Exit. Like No Exit, the afterlife exists in a sort of mundane, domestic, interior space, and its hellishness comes from not from its apparent horror on first witnessing it, but its claustrophobic confusion, the trapped-ness, loss of memory of self one experiences there, which initiates a desperate grasping for orientation within selfhood and beyond. Abaddon, in Shadmi's novel, is an Escher-meets-Dali-(well, there is a kind of melting that goes along with the mazing)esque apartment building whose disturbing repetitions echo with hollowness and whose rules are impossible to grasp. Everything is always slipping away. Memory, understanding, meaning, relationship, relief. I suppose it's a bit Sartre meets Kafka (meets Escher meets Dali) in a dark alley of the mind.
There is something about this book that feels both unstarted and unfinished. And I think this is the author bringing his readers into the feeling of an endless day in a place with no beginning or end and no internal logic. A place in which every answer to a question always leads back to the question itself. One spins in circles. The dizziness may or may not be instructive. The protagonist's history before, mmmm, graduating into the afterlife, his horror-filled memories of fighting and war, are, in themselves, a hell, and how and where and why this hell of memory meets and intertwines with the hell of Abaddon is mysterious enough to be frustrating, but also seems to want to instruct by being unreachable. What do our lives matter after we're dead? How is our suffering meaningful during life and is it and if so how is it meaningful beyond the scope of our short lives? Are life and afterlife tangled up and almost simultaneous for people who have been through the most extreme horrors of war? What does it mean to live a lie and to live knowing it is that lie that is destroying you and also that is keeping you alive? What of our own fictions do we force ourselves to believe, or at least live by? And how are other people's traumas and injuries influencing the representations they uphold to describe their predicaments and their lives? Can we trust each other's stories?
These are all questions and themes that emerge and then go undercover again in this painful, at times funny (think of a touch of Seinfeld mixed into Kafka's The Trial if it had taken place in a Brooklyn apartment building and if Josef K were a veteran of war), and perhaps necessarily frustrating book. The art is atmospheric and intense but with a sweetness that adds to the tension between the mundane and the horror-filled. The color scheme is washed in a lot of greenish blue and orange pink. The question of solidity and realness is constantly on the surface with the strange and humorous food and drink stuff. Who are all these people and how did they get here and how and why did they end up together? Was it simply by coincidence of being at the same place at the same time (place and time being relative), or is there some deeper meaning to the peculiar convergences?
You will not leave this book with an armful of answers, but I think the art and the atmosphere are worth exploring. I can't say I quite enjoyed this book, or that it is exactly original, but I admire the immersive anxiety and playfulness and willingness to move away from some of the ways conventional narrative can exploit trauma and try to churn it into sugar-coated, easily consumable meaning.
But here I am, getting ahead of myself and falling behind, entering into the graphic novel without meaning to. I see now how my reading of Abaddon is influencing my reading of these editorial images, and how my reading of the editorial images will influence my review of Abbadon.
Shadmi is a moral and existential philosopher of sorts. (Of Sartres?) He writes Abaddon--a Hebrew word for angel of death or something along the lines of a hellish afterlife--as a retelling of or reflection upon Sartre's No Exit. Like No Exit, the afterlife exists in a sort of mundane, domestic, interior space, and its hellishness comes from not from its apparent horror on first witnessing it, but its claustrophobic confusion, the trapped-ness, loss of memory of self one experiences there, which initiates a desperate grasping for orientation within selfhood and beyond. Abaddon, in Shadmi's novel, is an Escher-meets-Dali-(well, there is a kind of melting that goes along with the mazing)esque apartment building whose disturbing repetitions echo with hollowness and whose rules are impossible to grasp. Everything is always slipping away. Memory, understanding, meaning, relationship, relief. I suppose it's a bit Sartre meets Kafka (meets Escher meets Dali) in a dark alley of the mind.
There is something about this book that feels both unstarted and unfinished. And I think this is the author bringing his readers into the feeling of an endless day in a place with no beginning or end and no internal logic. A place in which every answer to a question always leads back to the question itself. One spins in circles. The dizziness may or may not be instructive. The protagonist's history before, mmmm, graduating into the afterlife, his horror-filled memories of fighting and war, are, in themselves, a hell, and how and where and why this hell of memory meets and intertwines with the hell of Abaddon is mysterious enough to be frustrating, but also seems to want to instruct by being unreachable. What do our lives matter after we're dead? How is our suffering meaningful during life and is it and if so how is it meaningful beyond the scope of our short lives? Are life and afterlife tangled up and almost simultaneous for people who have been through the most extreme horrors of war? What does it mean to live a lie and to live knowing it is that lie that is destroying you and also that is keeping you alive? What of our own fictions do we force ourselves to believe, or at least live by? And how are other people's traumas and injuries influencing the representations they uphold to describe their predicaments and their lives? Can we trust each other's stories?
These are all questions and themes that emerge and then go undercover again in this painful, at times funny (think of a touch of Seinfeld mixed into Kafka's The Trial if it had taken place in a Brooklyn apartment building and if Josef K were a veteran of war), and perhaps necessarily frustrating book. The art is atmospheric and intense but with a sweetness that adds to the tension between the mundane and the horror-filled. The color scheme is washed in a lot of greenish blue and orange pink. The question of solidity and realness is constantly on the surface with the strange and humorous food and drink stuff. Who are all these people and how did they get here and how and why did they end up together? Was it simply by coincidence of being at the same place at the same time (place and time being relative), or is there some deeper meaning to the peculiar convergences?
You will not leave this book with an armful of answers, but I think the art and the atmosphere are worth exploring. I can't say I quite enjoyed this book, or that it is exactly original, but I admire the immersive anxiety and playfulness and willingness to move away from some of the ways conventional narrative can exploit trauma and try to churn it into sugar-coated, easily consumable meaning.
April 7, 2018
The book Abaddon started out and continued to be very intriguing from beginning to about 3/4 of the way through. It was filled with great drawings and a nice pace with a good sense of storytelling. If you like the films “The Matrix” and “Dark City” with elements of the TV show “Lost” you might like this. In some way even “Amelie” comes to mind and I say this with a lot of love since those are some of my favorite films and TV series. I liked the mystery of the book, but then there as an anticlimax moment and then it ended in the epilogue. Overall the journey was really nice.
July 29, 2016
Graficamente molto bello, a partire dalla copertina per arrivare ai disegni un po' graffiati nella loro griglia immutabile. Ho scoperto dopo che si tratta di una storia pubblicata a puntate su internet e alla fine raccolta in volume grazie a un crowdfunding. Purtroppo l'idea di fondo è semplice e lungo il testo non si aggiunge nient'altro: è una storia ripetitiva che si trascina fino al prevedibilissimo finale.
May 1, 2016
Abandon is a Hebrew term used to refer to the realm of the dead. In this story it is presented as a house in modern times. I loved the art work and the story as the main character goes on his discovery of his place and predicament. I will definitely have to check this out of my local library again as it has depth not fully fathomed by 1 read.
February 13, 2017
Existential panic attack brought on by a comic! Hooray for me.
September 12, 2021
Una narrazione circolare in cui il protagonista continua ad inciampare in personaggi strambi e finestre murate.
Ter si ritrova a visitare un appartamento da dividere con alcuni coinquilini, ma presto si accorge che il lotto è abitato da personalità sopra le righe, ciascuna con un’ossessione in comune: il sesso.
Abaddon è un graphic novel spinoso come una trappola, ricco di enigmi, stranezze e angosce.
Nonostante il protagonista cerchi una qualsiasi via d’uscita, si sente allo stesso tempo aiutato e schiavo di questa Open House particolare.
I disegni hanno tinte fredde (blu, verdi, anguria) tanto da sembrare plastici: sculture di didò malleabili che un po’ ricordano la mollezza degli orologi daliniani: sinuosi eppure molto statici. Colori più caldi sulle tinte del marrone inscenano invece i ricordi del passato, frammenti di vita che illuminano e contemporaneamente incupiscono il tessuto narrativo.
La definirei una lettura Weird molto accattivante e particolare!
Ter si ritrova a visitare un appartamento da dividere con alcuni coinquilini, ma presto si accorge che il lotto è abitato da personalità sopra le righe, ciascuna con un’ossessione in comune: il sesso.
Abaddon è un graphic novel spinoso come una trappola, ricco di enigmi, stranezze e angosce.
Nonostante il protagonista cerchi una qualsiasi via d’uscita, si sente allo stesso tempo aiutato e schiavo di questa Open House particolare.
I disegni hanno tinte fredde (blu, verdi, anguria) tanto da sembrare plastici: sculture di didò malleabili che un po’ ricordano la mollezza degli orologi daliniani: sinuosi eppure molto statici. Colori più caldi sulle tinte del marrone inscenano invece i ricordi del passato, frammenti di vita che illuminano e contemporaneamente incupiscono il tessuto narrativo.
La definirei una lettura Weird molto accattivante e particolare!
March 3, 2022
The drawings were so nice sketch style, but there was something so unlikable and unrewarding about the characters every one of them were creepy and weird and I usually enjoy unique characters that stand out, but though the story had a cool twist I just didn't care because I hated the protagonist he seemed to not react to a lot, and just delayed and just inconsistent and creepy, some of the art style reminded me of those really creepy characters claymation from that speed demon Michael Jackson music video.
March 29, 2018
i would give 1 star but i feel bad bc i'm assuming the author worked hard on it lol... anyway this book just seemed like uhhh misogynistic lmao. also (SPOILER??) did he like fuck his mom what is going on lol
November 11, 2017
A surrealist look at a possible afterlife through dreamlike wanderings into erotic fantasy. Certainly ambitious and with plenty of kafkaesque questions raised the only gripe would be a handful of factors making it feel a bit derivative of other similar narrative explorations of a purgatory; am I dead? Am I dreaming? Type world. I also felt that thought there was certainly some creative ideas there seemed to be a bit too much loose stream-of-consciousness type aspects that if they had been reigned into a tighter overall narrative would have made for a more compelling read.
May 28, 2017
Storywise nothing really surprised me but it was strong and interesting enough to keep me going. As to the art, I wass oddly satisfied with it, I liked his style and found his images at times exceptional. Recommended for those who love new fields built on old ones - and there really is nothing wrong about that.
May 19, 2017
...Livin' it up at the Hotel California... :)
March 5, 2021
This was pretty fun, like being in someone else’s slightly horrific nightmare.
July 17, 2019
- Pain is weakness leaving the body.
.
.
- Sei nell'Abaddon, Ter. Chi può dire che sia meno reale dell'ultimo posto in cui sei stato?
.
.
Nuovo appartamento, nuovi coinquilini. Bussando alla porta dell'Abaddon, Ter non sa cosa lo attenderà oltre la soglia. Non sa più chi sia in realtà. Ma l'angoscia per la perdita della memoria viene presto sopraffatta dalla spiacevole sensazione di trovarsi in trappola. Quello in cui si è stabilito è un hotel a porte chiuse e finestre murate; un misero spazio, da condividere con individui disadattati e prigionieri delle proprie ossessioni. Fuggire, è tutto ciò che desidera... o quasi.
.
.
Non è facile parlare di questa grapic novel; "Abaddon" è un'esperienza e pertanto va vissuta. Era il 2016 quando la NPE decise di raccogliere in un unico volume il web comic disegnato da Koren Shadmi. Un'edizione curatissima, cartonata, dal particole formato orizzontale. Graficamente spettacolare, con disegni matitosi a tinte pastello, racchiusi in una gabbia immutabile di sei celle che rende perfettamente il senso di claustrofobia. La scelta dei colori è ben congegnata: toni "malsani" di verde e rosa, alternati ai più caldi e tendenti al seppia per i ricordi. Il passato si intreccia al presente, improvvisamente, permettendo al lettore di scoprire la storia di Ter insieme a lui. Durante il viaggio il protagonista acquista consapevolezza; scende a patti con i più vergognosi desideri, scaturiti dall'assenza di una figura materna; riporta alla mente gli orrori della guerra e la vuota gloria dei sopravvissuti. Una vicenda disturbante, non adatta a tutti, via via più soffocante, verso un finale che, bensì prevedibile dalla metà, lascia sbigottiti e oppressi esattamente nell'ultima vignetta.
.
.
- Sei nell'Abaddon, Ter. Chi può dire che sia meno reale dell'ultimo posto in cui sei stato?
.
.
Nuovo appartamento, nuovi coinquilini. Bussando alla porta dell'Abaddon, Ter non sa cosa lo attenderà oltre la soglia. Non sa più chi sia in realtà. Ma l'angoscia per la perdita della memoria viene presto sopraffatta dalla spiacevole sensazione di trovarsi in trappola. Quello in cui si è stabilito è un hotel a porte chiuse e finestre murate; un misero spazio, da condividere con individui disadattati e prigionieri delle proprie ossessioni. Fuggire, è tutto ciò che desidera... o quasi.
.
.
Non è facile parlare di questa grapic novel; "Abaddon" è un'esperienza e pertanto va vissuta. Era il 2016 quando la NPE decise di raccogliere in un unico volume il web comic disegnato da Koren Shadmi. Un'edizione curatissima, cartonata, dal particole formato orizzontale. Graficamente spettacolare, con disegni matitosi a tinte pastello, racchiusi in una gabbia immutabile di sei celle che rende perfettamente il senso di claustrofobia. La scelta dei colori è ben congegnata: toni "malsani" di verde e rosa, alternati ai più caldi e tendenti al seppia per i ricordi. Il passato si intreccia al presente, improvvisamente, permettendo al lettore di scoprire la storia di Ter insieme a lui. Durante il viaggio il protagonista acquista consapevolezza; scende a patti con i più vergognosi desideri, scaturiti dall'assenza di una figura materna; riporta alla mente gli orrori della guerra e la vuota gloria dei sopravvissuti. Una vicenda disturbante, non adatta a tutti, via via più soffocante, verso un finale che, bensì prevedibile dalla metà, lascia sbigottiti e oppressi esattamente nell'ultima vignetta.
December 26, 2022
Man, I have no idea why you Goodreads people are so hostile to Koren Shadmi. This is my third tango with Koren and I think this volume was my favorite of the three! Part JACOB'S LADDER, part Sartre, part CITY OF THE LOST CHILDREN (those glorious pink and green color schemes), this is an enchanting puzzle box narrative in which a man arrives at an apartment that he cannot leave, one populated by weirdos who seem inspired from noir films and various points in the 20th century, and goes about investigating the mysterious building of this strange trap -- in which you can only drink Ecto Beer and coffee and food seems congealed from a hideous pink gooey substance. I can only assume that people objected to the "anticlimactic" ending, but it worked for me -- in large part because there's an interesting tension between journey and destination. That and Shadmit's imagination is surreal and deranged in the best possible way. Yet he's being beat up here on Goodreads for reasons that completely mystify me. Because it's clear that the guy is a true original, knows genre well, and knows how to build off of this with his own odd creative efforts.
October 15, 2025
In The Abaddon, the protagonist, Ter, arrives at a house that he is considering renting along with some eccentric roommates. He has no idea how he got there, who he is, or why his head is bandaged. Things get surrealist very quickly. There’s murder, ghosts, flashbacks to war, a quest for a deceased mother, pornography, gourmet chocolates, and an endless labyrinth.
What does it all mean? I don’t know. But the whole book has a very eerie, creepy feel to it. I think that feeling is more important than the actual narrative itself. Stories about characters who are always trying to escape but can’t produce such a sense of anxiety in me.
The art work here is really great. All of the panels are colored in muted reds and greens (without looking Christmasy).
What does it all mean? I don’t know. But the whole book has a very eerie, creepy feel to it. I think that feeling is more important than the actual narrative itself. Stories about characters who are always trying to escape but can’t produce such a sense of anxiety in me.
The art work here is really great. All of the panels are colored in muted reds and greens (without looking Christmasy).
April 3, 2022
Not sure what to think, because this type of narration is not exactly my jam, and this one made no exception.
I didn't love the drawing style, despite the lovely palette of colors, and the pace as well wasn't compelling to me. I felt detached from first to last page, and even the solution of the mystery of Abaddon wasn't enough to redeem this reading.
The characters were interesting despite being out of focus - the protagonist escaped from them once he got to know them, and this reinforced the sensation of being a bored tourist in a grotesque exhibition. Which might be an okay experience, if you are looking forward to something similar, but again, not my favorite kind of narration.
I didn't love the drawing style, despite the lovely palette of colors, and the pace as well wasn't compelling to me. I felt detached from first to last page, and even the solution of the mystery of Abaddon wasn't enough to redeem this reading.
The characters were interesting despite being out of focus - the protagonist escaped from them once he got to know them, and this reinforced the sensation of being a bored tourist in a grotesque exhibition. Which might be an okay experience, if you are looking forward to something similar, but again, not my favorite kind of narration.
August 21, 2017
The art is cool and there are some creepy characters. In the end though, most of the situations in the book fall into a pattern: growing sexual desire ending in mild violence. The characters, while being creepy at times, are a bit too flat to take the story very far. And the memories of the main character don't actually end up building to anything conclusive. In the end, entertaining but not resonant. And, oddly, the book has quite a few spelling errors.
March 13, 2017
Not as good as last exit. Past a certain point the novelty wears off but the art is really good and the resolution was good.
September 1, 2023
"Whoever built this place thought it was possible - So it is."
July 8, 2024
This book was so weird but great artwork
March 16, 2016
One of those stories that sticks with you after reading it. Haunting and atmospheric, The Abaddon has the dreamlike quality of the best psychological horror. At turns reminiscent of Silent Hill: The Room, and the delirium-fuelled worlds of David Lynch and Guy Maddin, The Abaddon takes a somewhat familiar plot and ends with an understated whimper that is both narratively satisfying and disturbing.
September 6, 2016
Much like the main character, you don't really know where you are, but you know to keep going.
At first, it seems like the mystery isn't so much of a mystery. However, as the story continues, you start crawling through the emotional and mental muck of The Abaddon and it's tenants. Eventually, the puzzles stop making sense and the rules seem to be non existent. But there is a little light at the end... Though it poses more questions than answers, it seems you've arrived in peace.
At first, it seems like the mystery isn't so much of a mystery. However, as the story continues, you start crawling through the emotional and mental muck of The Abaddon and it's tenants. Eventually, the puzzles stop making sense and the rules seem to be non existent. But there is a little light at the end... Though it poses more questions than answers, it seems you've arrived in peace.
August 21, 2016
Nelle recensioni vedo scomodare Sartre; a me ricorda la carnosità opprimente nei fumetti di Dave Cooper (www.davegraphics.com), che è un bel ricordo, ma che ritrovo qui in versione meno eterodossa, più incravattata, meno capace di raggiungere la cercata mimesi con la (il)logica del sogno e del desiderio. La robotica traduzione italiana mette scarpe di cemento ai personaggi.
November 19, 2016
It's interesting with distinctive artwork. But it seems pretty clear from the beginning where it is going, and takes longer than it seems like it should to get there. AT a certain point I tuned out the adventures of the main character and just followed along. There were a few twists, but not much revelation.
April 22, 2016
The book centers around Ter, a fragmented man trying to navigate a fractured, hellish apartment. I enjoyed it quite a bit, despite the fact that I did think it was a bit heavy-handed. The art is complex and interesting, more than making up for any shortcomings in the writing.
December 4, 2015
Just brilliant.
March 28, 2016
A less ambiguous "Barton Fink" drawn in a less grotesque Dave Cooper style.
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