Comic-books are a medium, not a genre; they can tell any story and suit any palate. You want horror? I’ve got bottles of the stuff. Welcome to ‘Splashes of Darkness.’
I’m archiving my Splashes of Darkness posts for Ginger Nuts of Horror here at The Fine-toothed Comb as well, for easy access in case you miss any of them. I’ve already covered the July, August, September and October editions, but here we are in February and I’m just getting around to this, the last batch of the comics I reviewed for Ginger Nuts of Horror. Apologies for the delay. Here we are then with Complete Darkness, Redneck vol 1, Shadow Service vols 1 & 2, The King in Yellow and Defoe: 1666. Let’s get into them.
Complete Darkness – Kickstarter
The Pitch:
Cleric20 is a hedonistic loner, but he might just be the saviour of the world. It’s 2242 and the future has arrived – full of flying cars, robots, dystopian companies and sprawling megacities. Unfortunately, the past is about to arrive too, along with a demonic horde – all thanks to a revolutionary new piece of technology. The starlight bounce allows human observers to view historical events. As the first beam returns to Earth, the research team witnesses an ancient battle taking place. Alas, they are also seen in return by the demon Razour. The day of carnage is coming.
The Taste:
For every carefully-crafted cocktail you’ve savoured, there were dozens of trial runs: rough concepts worked through and taste-tested until they hit the spot. The process of concoction, experimentation and refinement is the very essence of creation. So we come to Complete Darkness, a blended-genre comic-book adaptation of Matt Adcock’s cyberpunk fantasy novel. It’s a little raw, a little rough, but there’s something interesting here. It’s on Kickstarter now, so you could help it develop and grow.
Thoughts on the Comic:
We don’t always have time to burn through a novel, but comic-book adaptations like this can be a quick and easy way for consumers to discover *new worlds. (One Hollywood has begun relying upon more and more in their search for content and product recognition.) Comics are not quick, easy, nor cheap to produce though – as anyone in the industry will tell you – which is why indie publishers started to turn to crowdfunding.
I’m not familiar with the novel, the world, or the author, but I really dug the concept as Adam described it to me, so I snagged a copy at FantasyCon. As I settled down to it, I appreciated the care with which I was brought up to speed. The first couple of pages set up the premise (in a short paragraph), and introduce us to the main characters (each with a single image and brief description). The production design here is clean and the paper quality high, so it’s a bit of a surprise to find that the artwork is monochrome and quite scratchy. It reminded me of some of the earlier Dredd strips in 2000AD, packed with ambitious cityscape details (though strangely low on inhabitants).
There are only 14 pages here, so we’re whisked through at a breakneck pace, barely meeting our hero before the inciting incident occurs and the threat emerges. The scene at the encampment in Canaan with the Ark is the standout for me, full of tension. The action, when it occurs, is a little stiff –caused, I think, by the line-work being just too thick, in stark contrast to the previous page. However, the artist does manage to give the illusion of a fast-moving battle with some shrewd details that lead the eye from element to element across the double-page spread.
In addition to the main comic, Adcock has produced a short story set in the same world – bonus content to thank the backers – which riffs on Christine by Stephen King. Not wholly to my tastes but again, it’ll give you that window into the wider world and help you decide if Cleric20 and co. are your cup of tea.
Issue 1 of Complete Darkness has already been produced – so you’re guaranteed a copy – and the Kickstarter has been fully funded with a month still to go. Having paid the creators, all profits will be ploughed back into creating Issue 2, and so on. The more support thrown at these things, the more likely the project as a whole can reach completion. Prefer to just grab the novel? There are links here or, better yet, order at your local bookshop.
* One writer I know has created no less than 16 spin-off comics from his novels, along with a Find-Your-Fate book, an audio drama, and a middle-grade adventure book. It’s a goddamned multi-media empire.
Written by Matt Adcock
Illustrated by Karl Brown
Published by Complete Darkness Comics
Kickstarting Now!
Redneck vol. 1 – Deep in the Heart
The Pitch:
The Bowman family are vampires who have quietly run the local barbecue joint in Sulphur Springs for years, living off cow blood and trying to keep to themselves. Their peaceful coexistence ends as generations of hate and fear bubble to the surface, making it impossible to separate man from monster. Critically acclaimed writer Donny Cates (God Country) and artist Lisandro Estherren serve up the tale of a different kind of family just trying to get by, deep in the heart of Texas.
The Taste:
Welcome back, hombre. Take a pew, no need to stand on ceremony. Hard day, huh? Hard life—I hear you. I’ve got just the thing. Pay no attention to them stains on the label, now; it’s just old blood, long dried. Last fella had a little…trouble letting go of the bottle. Started necking it (heh). Anyways, this is prime stuff: a full-bodied vampire noir, bitter’nuff ta shrivel lips. There’s somethin’ mighty compelling about it, though. Somethin’ redemptive – or trying to be – like darkness seeking the dawn.
Thoughts on the Comic:
There’s a moment right near the beginning of Redneck that made me sit up and grin like the devil. Old man Bartlett – the grizzled vamp at the centre of this story – is sitting silently on his stoop, supping some Bloodweiser while his niece sits on the floor next to him, playing with her dolls. The boxed-out text acts as narration, introducing us to Bartlett’s personality, his world-view and a little of his back-story – fighting at the Alamo and through the Civil war and—and then his niece interrupts the flow to ask ‘What side?’ It’s a great segue which makes imaginative use of the medium, drawing us right into the scene. The box-outs weren’t just narration; they were Bartlett’s thoughts young Perry ‘heard’ as speech.
It’s a revelatory moment, small yet incredibly significant, and I knew then and there I was in good hands. (The pay-off proves it, too.) Cates is a phenomenal writer, crafting a tight, self-contained little story in the 6 issues of volume 1. Seed details are sown so gently as to appear windblown, yet every word, every incident builds on the last to create an atmosphere of tension. This may be a loving family, intent on maintaining a peaceful life, but the threat of violence runs through their property like lines of gunpowder. And when the rebellious kids decide to head off to the local ‘titty joint’, a spark is lit that cannot be doused. It’s not a slow burn, either.
This is one of those stories where both readers and characters alike are trying to deal with the last emergency when the next arises. Whilst other writers might choose to back off, building the tension yet further, Cates brings wrath down within a few short pages. This terrifying speed is captured beautifully in Estherren’s art with powerful moments that contrast to his otherwise measured pace. The smashed doors as Bartlett comes to the boys’ rescue; the flipped table as JV (his vampiric brother) loses his careful grip on rage; the extraordinary double-page spread as Granpa bursts from his attic room to take on the Sherriff’s men – all hold real kinetic shock value which, when you consider the static nature of pen and ink, is quite a feat.
I’ve said this is a tightly-focused story and, in plot-terms, it really is. The dominoes fall exactly as they should, like some kind of Shakespearean tragedy – and in that vein it is the hidden motive, the blind spot in our heroes’ vision that keeps us guessing, even as doom becomes inevitable. Thematically, the creative team reaches farther, delving into such matters as the destructive cycle of revenge, inter-generational conflict about progressive change, and the de-humanisation of people as a way to justify violence against them.
It is strange in a way that a book filled with such terrible hatred and violence holds moments of real tenderness too. They may be rednecks through and through, but we come to care about the Bowman brothers very deeply for the values they hold and the loves they share. Humanity at its best is a quality that crosses all social, cultural and national boundaries, seeking enlightenment, rejecting the savagery within. It is this slender thread of peace that they reach for – this ray of light over the horizon that may itself presage their extinction – and should they escape, should they find their way through tunnels and darkness to a new place of safety, we will follow them there and continue to hope for redemption.
Written by Donny Cates
Illustrated by Lisandro Estherren
Coloured by Dee Cunliffe
Lettered by Joe Sabino
Published by Image Comics
Shadow Service vols 1 & 2
The Pitch:
Worried your partner is cheating? Need a missing person found? Gina Meyers is the Private Investigator for you. She’s a witch who worries that her powers make her a monster, worse than the crooks she’s trying to catch, but London’s criminal underworld runs deeper than she ever could have imagined…all the way to Hell. As Meyers tracks her target, she crosses paths with a ghoulish shape-shifter and his partner. They work for a mysterious organisation that packs some serious mojo and – as it turns out – they’re after the same man. Can he really be saved, or has the devil dug his claws in too deep? Black ops meets black magic in Shadow Service.
The Taste:
Hey there friend, I think you dropped something. Here ya go. (No, don’t look at it yet. Wait till I’m serving somebody else. Just keep smiling, say thanks, then pretend to order a drink. We’re being…watched.) A pitcher? Sure, I’ve got just the thing for you: Shadow Service. It’s a murky brew, strong, dark, and full of character. This is one to mull over, full of subtlety and surprise, and definitely no sulphur. Uh-uh. Have a sip. There’s a bitterness to it, sure – comes with any kind of noir – but there’s a freshness too – you getting that? – vibrant like magic, cutting through the mire. Mmm. Citrus-clean and crisp. Yeah, I thought you’d like it. Here, it’s on the house. Yes ma’am, how can I help y…?
[MEET ME OUT BACK FOR THE FULL SKINNY.]
Thoughts on the comic:
Well, this one’s a cracker. It’s slick, creepy, explosive, and deeply engaging. One of the things I love about small presses is that they publish creator-owned content, giving platform to people with a unique story to tell. And they tend to be *complete stories, with real character development and actual consequences—no reboots or retcons here. As such, I think it’s a more satisfying experience: focused, self-contained, and they often reward re-reading. Shadow Service vols 1 & 2 combine to form a complete story arc, introducing Meyers to the demonic criminal underworld while bringing her deep into that most secret of services.
Cavan Scott’s done a great job, crafting a twisty plot full of secrets and betrayal. I’ve burned through both volumes of this twice now in past two days, and second time round it was smashing to see just how many details were seeded in from the start – all those telling little fractures and frictions between characters that lend texture at first then gain new meaning as the story unfolds. If there is an overriding theme, it is one of sacrifice for a larger cause and of course different characters have different ideas about what constitutes ‘larger’ in this context. One thing remains true though: nothing comes without cost.
Witchcraft is Gina’s emancipation, literally and figuratively. It’s innate, instinctual, and almost entirely unique. Sounds like a free gift, right? Wrong. It’s already cost her a mother, a father, and a thousand nights sleep, and now it’s made her a target. Darryl Coyle can shape-shift, but he has an insatiable hunger for human flesh. That’s cost him his job, his marriage, and his freedom. Aashi Sidhu has no fears. She can face down any threat coolly, doing her job to practised perfection. The cost? Just every other human emotion. You get the point. Being good enough to join the shadow service just means you’ve already lost everything else.
I’ve gotta say, Gina makes for a great main character, engaging our sympathies and embodying our fantasy of being more capable than we know. She’s not your typical PI, though she does do a fine line in fatalism, counter-balanced by personal resolve. We learn early on that she was once a victim of domestic abuse and now, having saved herself, she seems intent on helping others. It’s not about the money, it’s about self-worth. What elevates her (magical powers aside) is the empathy she evinces for her clients. It’s a subtle but welcome shift, and one that warms us to her immediately. One of the things that gave me the fiercest grin though was seeing how Gina negotiates a Mexican stand-off, rebalancing the tensions to try to save her target. It’s such an elegant move, placing her firmly on the side of the angels.
She’s a beating heart in a cynical world—one growing darker by the day: modern Britain. It’s actually quite refreshing for a glossy comic like this to feel **so British in character. It’s also painfully attractive to imagine that our nation’s current degraded state is down to a demonic plot rather than simple class arrogance, corruption, media complicity, and civic apathy. Countering the demonic threat in that world is Section 26 (unofficially known as MI666) the secret-service third of this genre mash-up. It’s headed up by Hex – a 400 year old child – and populated by other freaks, all dedicated to protecting our green and pleasant land from preternatural threats. Mundane politics is kept ***out of Scott’s story, thankfully, allowing us to focus on the action and adventure elements. This is more Bond’s black ops than Smiley’s pen-pushing people.
I should talk a bit about the art here because – intricate as the plotting is, and snappy as the dialogue may be – it’s Corin Howell’s exquisite monster designs, hard-hitting action, and soft emotional beats that bring it all to life. [Ed. Yeah, yeah – but the monsters?] [Tut. Fine] Part of the joy of using demons in a story (rather than, say, vampires or werewolves,) is the visual freedom they grant. There’s no real archetype, so here we can find all kinds of fleshy abominations, insectoid horrors (see main image), flesh-peeling strippers, and the demon Yastrick – who would frankly take an entire paragraph to describe in words – and every single one elicits shock or disgust. She’s quite the talent!
Horror works best of course in familiar settings, sending us off kilter. Howell’s line-work (combined with Triona Farrell’s colours) manage that contrast beautifully. I mean, stop for a second and just look at that stunning wet pavement (above). There’s no horror to be seen (yet), but focus on the familiar: the light and the shadow, the texture implied by those opaque patches which help you pick out the surface of the pavement; look at that brutal downtown architecture, the brickwork and the windows. Sheer artistry. Her characters too are fabulously expressive, often angry, frustrated or desperate. There’s never a sense of stillness without intent. It’s constantly shifting landscape of story.
The round-up:
I’ve not come across Vault Comics before, but if this series is anything to go by, they’re a comic company to watch. In their own words, they aim to ‘break the established order, dissolve conceptions of social identity, and give voices to the silenced’ with their stories. It’s a beautifully designed comic, glossy in style but full of depth, relentlessly working to keep the reader engaged. While vol. 1 does a great job of setting up the characters and seeding in some of the deeper mysteries, vol. 2 is where things really kick into gear, uncovering a bigger plot. It’s full of twists and turns, betrayals and shockingly brutal acts, cracking the world open for expansion. With tightly-plotted scripts, a compelling focal character, and throat-grabbing art, you really couldn’t find much better to spend your money on. You’ve got eyes on the target now. Whenever you’re ready…
* Compared to the likes of D.C. and Marvel who tend towards sandbox play with the same old characters in endless iteration.
** I particularly pleased to see ‘Bollocks!’ being shouted, along with such cultural references as ‘It’s all gone Pete Tong’ and, ‘Who do you think you are? Geoff Capes?’
*** Though there is a throwaway reference to Brexit that made me snort, and an ever-so tragic fate for the current Home Secretary.
Written by Cavan Scott
Illustrated by Corin Howell
Coloured by Triona Farrell
Lettered by Andworld
Published by Vault
The King in Yellow
The pitch:
The King in Yellow was a short-story collection by Robert W. Chambers which mingled literary stories of love and heartbreak in bohemian Paris with weird tales filled with insanity and despair. They were linked by a fictional play so powerful it had never been performed; said to drive anyone unfortunate enough to read it utterly mad. Like H.P. Lovecraft’s Necronomicon, the book is both incredibly rare, yet seems to turn up all over the place, infecting innocent lives and heralding the arrival of the titular supernatural entity. Thankfully I.N.J. Culbard makes the choice to leave the more prosaic stuff to one side, bringing us lush adaptations of The Repairer of Reputations, The Mask, The Yellow Sign, and In the Court of the Dragon –some of the finest examples of weird fiction to be found.
The taste:
Greetings, and welcome to Lost Barcosa. (Yes, I know – terrible pun, but we’ve got new owners; they thought it was a real hoot.) If your only knowledge of the Yellow King comes from S1 of True Detective, you might think you’re in for a tall glass of noirish folk-horror, but the stories presented here have a very different flavour. The base notes are more Cask of Amontillado than Lonestar beer, blended with the cosmic indifference and mind-shattering ‘truths’ of HPL’s oeuvre, chased with a splash of Ashton Smith’s absinthe. It may look cold and rigid, but there’s a wild swirl running through it, apt to make one see the world in a new light.
Thoughts on the comic:
The term ‘weird fiction’ has been applied (and misapplied) to a multitude of works over the years. Some weave qualities of the inexplicable through their own original creations to produce that peculiar blend of imbalance and hysteria, whilst others do their best to draw attention to classic source materials via adaptation. These are sometimes (though not always) successful in their own right, but they keep the flame of inspiration alive regardless. In recent years the artist I.N.J. Culbard has produced some wonderful graphic-novelisations based on the works of Lovecraft, Wilde, and Conan Doyle through Self Made Hero (along with original works like the brilliant Deadbeats, which I reviewed back in July.)
If you have seen his comics before you will immediately recognise Culbard’s artistic style. It has a European feel with clear, clean line-work and a limited palette of colour, used in blocks—save for flesh, which tends to have a couple of tones to help bring it to life. There’s a pleasing eye for the human form, running the full gamut of body types, hair and facial hair, though they are slightly cartoonish in design and strangely lacking in pupils. Nevertheless, the darkness of the plots and the weight of the characters’ emotions are more than ably portrayed. The world quickly sucks you in and the city – with its grand decadence and sordid corners – becomes all too tangible, though only appearing in brief and sketchy glimpses throughout.
Interestingly, this adaptation feels much more ‘of a piece’ than the patchwork text of the original (available for free at Project Gutenberg), thanks to the combination of this visual element and the tighter story selection.
The Repairer of Reputations is the strongest piece – a startling and uncanny story that leaves the reader questioning just about everything they just read. In it, we are introduced us to Hildred; a taut and haughty man with a renowned cousin, a copy of The King in Yellow, a perceived destiny, and an unrequited love. There are strong hints throughout that this takes place in an alternative timeline to our own, evoking an historical piece in some ways, with overtones of a dystopian future. The ‘Repairer’ is a peculiar character who manipulates lives, but does he deal in true facts or merely encourage delusions for his own warped ends?
The Mask introduces several new characters: an artsy set with a somewhat incestuous relationship. The sculptor, Boris, has possession of The King in Yellow now, and a liquid that can turn living tissue into marble. His artistic obsession grows, and with it his own doom. The Yellow Sign is perhaps the most famous of Chambers’ stories – and is a truly nightmarish vignette. Jack Scott is a painter, falling in love with his model, Tessie. She dreams of him in a coffin, carried away by a dough-faced man. She finds a brooch of unusual design and gives it to him. Soon dreams cross over to reality and the doughy man stands under their window gazing in, demanding to know about the Yellow Sign.
The final piece is slighter in narrative but even more surreal. Jack flees towards his final destiny, pursued by the sinister forces of the tattered King in Yellow. It is worth noting that the character in Chambers’ version of In the Court of the Dragon remains unnamed. Culbard uses Scott here to bring unity to the piece—going so far as to weave him into The Repairer of Reputations in (what I believe to be) a wholly invented scene, and bringing Hildred into the Court of the Dragon. This ploy works wonderfully. The weirder a tale is, the more important it is for elements of normality, of familiarity to stand in firm counterpoint. Jack provides us with that anchor of sanity, of external contemplation and as such, his toppling into madness becomes our own. The final image of the book is both glorious and devastating to behold.
If you are new to Self Made Hero’s literary adaptations, I might recommend starting with something a little easier to grasp: The Picture of Dorian Gray, perhaps, or Ghost Stories of an Antiquary. Their Lovecraft anthologies are another great place to take your first tentative dip. Fans of Culbard’s earlier work will certainly get a kick out of The King in Yellow, but I suspect it will not be quite as satisfying to those who place narrative above sensation. To be fair that is more likely to be down to the source material than his sterling adaptation. It may leave you scratching your head as to just what the effing hell happened, but that is, in many respects, the very essence of the Weird.
Sit back, pick up the book and enjoy it for what it is. You can go nuts later.
[This review was originally written for Geek Syndicate, but it has been updated and expanded for Ginger Nuts of Horror.]
Adapted and Illustrated by I.N.J. Culbard
From the short stories of Robert W. Chambers
Edited by Dan Lockwood
Published by Self Made Hero
Defoe 1666
The pitch:
London, 1668. It is two years since the city was devastated by the Great Fire, the inferno caused by a ‘comet’ passing over the capital. But from the ashes rose the undead, hungry for the flesh of the living. Protecting the populous are zombie hunters like Titus Defoe, ex-Leveller and now agent of the Crown. As Titus battles the zombie horde, he comes to realise that some sort of intelligence is guiding them. Along with his Brethren of the Night, he must look deep into the rotten heart of the undead capital to discover the cause of this evil canker.
The taste:
Welcome back, friend. I’ve a flagon of 1666 waiting for ye that will, I think, be deemed favourable. ’Tis in some ways a tried and tested formula: a civilisation under siege, drowning in waves of o’ the walking dead, yet there are significant notes o’ difference too. Here. Have a sniff. There’s more’n reeking flesh and fear to be found at the bottom o’ this draught. The base is a strong yet often unexplored historical setting, sprinkled with rusty flakes of steampunk to spice things up. Underlying it all, deeper ’n necrosis, is the squalid tang o’ poverty and injustice infecting the populace just as surely as the plague, driving their desperation – and Defoe’s determination – to cleanse the world of this sea o’ corruption. Ye might need to hold yer nose, but down it anyway. Like V for Vendetta, it’ll do you the power o’ good. Take up arms, citizen; the true enemy is revealed.
Thoughts on the comic:
With an out-of-touch elite floundering to maintain power, an unstoppable disease ravaging the country indiscriminately, and a divisive class war brewing, one might be forgiven for thinking Defoe 1666 was a satire on the last couple of years. The fact that it springs from the mind of Pat Mills (creator of Charley’s War and Nemesis the Warlock) – and the pages of 2000AD (his legendarily subversive British comic) – would almost guarantee it, save for the fact that Defoe first hit the shelves in 2007.
Nevertheless, this is a story which is deeply critical of the corruption power brings to both the ruling class who inherit it and the underclass who (very occasionally) manage to wrest it from their hands. On the surface of course, it’s a straight-up gore-fest, full of spectacular violence, awesome anachronistic weaponry, dark conspiracies, and alt-history zombie shenanigans. The anti-hero at the heart of it all is Defoe, a bitter brute, trying to find a spark of righteousness in a darkened world. He’s not the kind of person you warm to for his personality, more for his grit. He’s the last good man, as it were; the ronin, the wandering gunslinger, the maverick cop—brought briefly to heel, yet ready to turn on his masters if the truth points their way.
Leigh Gallagher brings Defoe vividly to life with astonishing penmanship that at times overwhelms the senses. His urban sprawls are filthy, wooden structures knotted and warped, his rain spattering or relentless, the clothing wrinkled and highly mobile, while his corpse-flesh boasts a wealth of research on states of decay. Let’s focus on the zombies for a moment more, because this story brings something new to the table: a sense of organisation, an intent that runs deeper than braaaains. Gallagher conveys it all through the tilt of a head, the line of sight, the body posture… It’s chilling. The calculation of a cunning predator. These are not your normal rotters, and this is not your normal zombie apocalypse.
As we follow Defoe into the Office of Ordnance in Whitehall – the Q Branch of the day – we meet Sir Isaac Newton, his *extraordinary wig, and the scientific marvels he’s made under the tutelage of the ‘angels’. The intervention of non-human entities – both in the creation of the threat and in the means to fight it – fascinates me. Once small set of panels demonstrate that people see what they expect to see within their limited experience, so where one person sees demons in the blood on a microscope slide, another sees dragons. Are the ‘angels’ truly heavenly beings then, or aliens from another world? We don’t see them in this first volume, but we have no reason to doubt their existence. Of further interest to geeks like me are the ‘vizards’ – seen briefly from afar – who might be this world’s equivalent of **superheroes, or simply the equivalent of a Rocketeer air force using angel-inspired tech, much as the Brethren of the Night do with their steam-powered arsenal.
History is not forgotten. Mills has clearly done his research, slipping notes and sly references into his script to add layers and texture to Defoe’s world. Newton and Oliver Cromwell (well…Cromwell’s head) are front and centre, but cultural Easter eggs litter the text. Some will ring only faint bells whilst others clang in bold print, distracting the reader from the story. I think he can be forgiven. If you like to be educated as well as entertained, there’s fun to be had parsing out true cultural reference points from his raw imagination. If you find the habit irritating, just brush these off and move past. There’s plenty more to occupy your attention.
This is a richly detailed book with a bleak but firm social conscience. The art is exquisite and gruesome, the people ugly yet full of character, and the nuggets of world-building are alluring. The first time I read it, I put the thing down feeling a little confused at the sheer volume of possibility hinted at but barely developed. A second reading (and a bit of thought) has made it all much plainer, but there is still an awful lot which remains unanswered. Who or what are the angels, what is the relationship between Cromwell, the Queen of the Zombies, and the mysterious Mene Tekel—and for that matter, what did Mene Tekel actually do? Did they enter into a bargain with the Zombie Queen, did they call the ‘comet’ down, or are they responsible for the actual raising of the dead? All I can say for sure is that I recommend Defoe to you all, and suggest you maybe pick up volume 2 at the same time. Come the end, you’ll be glad you did.
* A separate life-form, practically. Gallagher must have cursed the day Mills wrote Sir Isaac into the tale. The smug bastard’s barnet must have been hell to draw once, let alone panel after panel.
** Vizard is an archaic word for a mask – and a Mask is itself a colloquial name for for a superhero. Of course, I might be overthinking this. You should totally seek out Neil Gaiman’s brilliant 1602 though, if the idea appeals. There are a few mini-series bringing Marvel’s familiar heroes to the 17th century.
Written by Pat Mills
Illustrated by Leigh Gallagher
Lettered by Ellie De Ville
Published by 2000AD
Okay, that’s us bang up to date now. December and January were taken up by other commitments, but things are easing up once more, so I’ll be returning to my comic slot at Ginger Nuts of Horror in the near future. Let me know if you have anything you’d like to see reviewed. You can comment in the box below or reach out via social media. However, if you are a creator or publicist – and you want me to cover your own book – please contact the boss directly. Here’s how.
