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alibi_shopSwamp Thing #99-109 (1990-91)
Written by Doug Wheeler, except #101 by Andrew Helfer
Art: #99 by Pat Broderick/Alfredo Alcala, #100 by Broderick/Alcala/Kelley Jones, #101 by Mike Hoffman/Alcala, #102 by Hoffman/Peter Gross, #103 by Hoffman/Doug Hazlewood/Mickey Ritter, #104 by Hoffman/Bill Jaaska, #105-107 by Hoffman
Doug Wheeler just isn't a good writer, at least not for this, and I'm running out of ways to say that, so I'll try to think of things I liked about this second half of his run.
I have to admit I'm a sucker for excessively complicated SF/fantasy plots. I didn't like the time-travel storyline (especially since Wheeler's ending for it basically made Swamp Thing into the most important being in the whole history of Earth), but it's kind of fun to see him keep elaborating on the consequences of it, and trying to make it somehow make sense—even if that means we get tons of expository dialogue from ancient beings telling us what's what, and massive retcons of all kinds of things for no clear purpose. Similarly, the cosmic SF setup of the Green's war against the Grey produces elaborate detours that make it feel like there's more of a plot than there is, and gives the artists some different stuff to draw*, so that's nice.
The concept of the Grey (the spirit of fungi, as the Green is the spirit of plants) is cool: it kind of turns the three kingdoms of multicellular life into gods, the way classical mythology did with the planets. (Jamie Delano will later coin "the Red" for the third one.) I'm even OK with the idea that one of those kingdoms is super-evil, because there's some backstory to explain that the Grey wasn't always that way—it's been through some shit. And just reminding people that fungi aren't plants is somewhat educational. However... while I have no problem with pseudoscience in fiction, I'm happier if the story just ignores science, instead of claiming science says things it doesn't say. So, for the record: fungi do not grow by "cell-by-cell replacement of their host"; they are not mysteriously absent from the fossil record; vaccines aren't antibiotics, and don't have fungal spores in them; and even in 1990, there was plenty of evidence that fungi are genetically related to plants and animals and did not first arrive on Earth from outer space 85 million years ago. (On the other hand, I really enjoy the novel Protector; it has a similarly impossible premise, it's just better written, and doesn't directly lie about the relevant facts.)
Since there have been plenty of romanticized depictions of various ethnic groups* being inherently more pure and peaceful, it's kind of nice to see a depiction of an all-knowing Inuit shaman who is a straight-up asshole. We're also told that the Mayans were terrible because they were being controlled by the fungus god, and their civilization fell because they forgot how agriculture works, or something... which is stupid, but at least it's different. On the other hand, according to Wheeler's endless exposition, the whole human race is terrible: even Adam and Eve were bad news from the start, unlike the perfect Neanderthals who apparently weren't related to us at all (we were created by God, in the Garden of Eden—the DC universe's relationship with religion is really confusing).
So, there were some OK ideas here; they were just poorly expressed in words, and the various artists weren't up to getting them across visually (except for Kelley Jones). Alas, since this is a comic, those are pretty much the only options. Maybe more editorial guidance could've helped (Karen Berger left the series in #102), but I sure am looking forward to a new writer at this point and fortunately one is on the way.
Inventories
Non-human animals: Some made-up ones, mostly plant elementals that were made out of prehistoric creatures.
Backstory recaps: Literally three pages explaining the Tefé-goes-to-hell storyline. Half a page explaining the time-travel storyline.
Grossest things: After exploding her own body (leading to a complicated quest to fix this [during which Brenda has to eat part of Tefé's remains, so that's gross too] until it's resolved ridiculously easily), Tefé gets upset and explodes the bodies of everyone within 22 miles. Also, there are some gross mold-filled zombies.
Next: Collins wades into the bayou
Written by Doug Wheeler, except #101 by Andrew Helfer
Art: #99 by Pat Broderick/Alfredo Alcala, #100 by Broderick/Alcala/Kelley Jones, #101 by Mike Hoffman/Alcala, #102 by Hoffman/Peter Gross, #103 by Hoffman/Doug Hazlewood/Mickey Ritter, #104 by Hoffman/Bill Jaaska, #105-107 by Hoffman
Doug Wheeler just isn't a good writer, at least not for this, and I'm running out of ways to say that, so I'll try to think of things I liked about this second half of his run.
I have to admit I'm a sucker for excessively complicated SF/fantasy plots. I didn't like the time-travel storyline (especially since Wheeler's ending for it basically made Swamp Thing into the most important being in the whole history of Earth), but it's kind of fun to see him keep elaborating on the consequences of it, and trying to make it somehow make sense—even if that means we get tons of expository dialogue from ancient beings telling us what's what, and massive retcons of all kinds of things for no clear purpose. Similarly, the cosmic SF setup of the Green's war against the Grey produces elaborate detours that make it feel like there's more of a plot than there is, and gives the artists some different stuff to draw*, so that's nice.
The concept of the Grey (the spirit of fungi, as the Green is the spirit of plants) is cool: it kind of turns the three kingdoms of multicellular life into gods, the way classical mythology did with the planets. (Jamie Delano will later coin "the Red" for the third one.) I'm even OK with the idea that one of those kingdoms is super-evil, because there's some backstory to explain that the Grey wasn't always that way—it's been through some shit. And just reminding people that fungi aren't plants is somewhat educational. However... while I have no problem with pseudoscience in fiction, I'm happier if the story just ignores science, instead of claiming science says things it doesn't say. So, for the record: fungi do not grow by "cell-by-cell replacement of their host"; they are not mysteriously absent from the fossil record; vaccines aren't antibiotics, and don't have fungal spores in them; and even in 1990, there was plenty of evidence that fungi are genetically related to plants and animals and did not first arrive on Earth from outer space 85 million years ago. (On the other hand, I really enjoy the novel Protector; it has a similarly impossible premise, it's just better written, and doesn't directly lie about the relevant facts.)
Since there have been plenty of romanticized depictions of various ethnic groups* being inherently more pure and peaceful, it's kind of nice to see a depiction of an all-knowing Inuit shaman who is a straight-up asshole. We're also told that the Mayans were terrible because they were being controlled by the fungus god, and their civilization fell because they forgot how agriculture works, or something... which is stupid, but at least it's different. On the other hand, according to Wheeler's endless exposition, the whole human race is terrible: even Adam and Eve were bad news from the start, unlike the perfect Neanderthals who apparently weren't related to us at all (we were created by God, in the Garden of Eden—the DC universe's relationship with religion is really confusing).
So, there were some OK ideas here; they were just poorly expressed in words, and the various artists weren't up to getting them across visually (except for Kelley Jones). Alas, since this is a comic, those are pretty much the only options. Maybe more editorial guidance could've helped (Karen Berger left the series in #102), but I sure am looking forward to a new writer at this point and fortunately one is on the way.
Inventories
Non-human animals: Some made-up ones, mostly plant elementals that were made out of prehistoric creatures.
Backstory recaps: Literally three pages explaining the Tefé-goes-to-hell storyline. Half a page explaining the time-travel storyline.
Grossest things: After exploding her own body (leading to a complicated quest to fix this [during which Brenda has to eat part of Tefé's remains, so that's gross too] until it's resolved ridiculously easily), Tefé gets upset and explodes the bodies of everyone within 22 miles. Also, there are some gross mold-filled zombies.
Next: Collins wades into the bayou
