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The Invisibles volume 3 #12-9 (1999)
Written by Grant Morrison
Art: Warren Pleece/Philip Bond, except #12 by Bond

So we're back and it's the home stretch. I was surprised to see, now, that the gap after volume two was only two months in publishing time; somehow it had felt longer to me than the four-month gap after volume one. Maybe I was more impatient at the time because at the end of volume one it had seemed like anything could happen and it was cool just to think that the series might continue at all, whereas here it seemed like only a limited number of things could happen and I wanted them to get on with it. And the tone and framing of these issues basically announces "we know you've been waiting for us to get on with it." The reverse numbering* is a smart move because "this really is building toward something specific, the end is in sight" is something readers might be feeling a need for by now. Toward the same goal, there's a clear effort in the first few issues to check in with characters and ideas that have been important at various times, with a tone that suggests we're finally going to see them all come together in some unexpected satisfying way. I'm skeptical about that of course,** due to past experience and also because a fair amount of what we're getting here isn't so much exploring earlier ideas as just rehashing them with minor variations.




So, Jack goes through another scary mindfuck initiation ordeal—and this time he's being asked to do something rational instead of something mystical, but still it's the same arc of "Dane panics a lot and doesn't want to do the thing, the wise character keeps giving him shit, finally he does the thing and is more enlightened." Jack Flint, the paranormal cop who's Mister Six's boss, a character we've never known anything about or had any attachment to, also goes through a scary mindfuck initiation ordeal (once again involving Invisibles pretending to be the enemy)—for no particular reasons except that 1. he and the other cop represent a dangling plot thread that's going nowhere so why not just combine them with the main team, and 2. Morrison really likes to quote things and people from 1970s TV. There's more deliberately-in-bad-taste stuff about how Diana Spencer was killed by the occult conspiracy around the demonic Earl from v1 #11 and v1 #25, a plot which seems to have picked up exactly where it left off years ago as if none of the American stuff made any difference at all (and as if the British monarchy really is of great significance, despite all the stuff we've heard about the whole universe being a doomed illusion). There's more of the same stuff about Barbelith, and about freeing people's minds by sneaking benevolent propaganda into TV signals.*

But even with all those complaints, I can't deny that the countdown, and the pacing, and the new art style,** and the opening scenes for each character, are pretty effective at suggesting a feeling of movement and potential newness. The best choice here is to put Sir Miles front and center again, using the Division X detectives as a narrative device to play up his significance: since most of the detectives don't know anything about the larger plot and have never heard of this guy, it's a good way to reintroduce him for people who weren't following the series before while also filling in more details for people who always wondered what his deal was. The background we get for him now—as a young guy he got psychically exposed to the Archons in an LSD experiment, he had an affair with Beryl from the 1920s storyline and then betrayed her, he knows politics is bullshit and the world is doomed but he votes Tory "for a laugh"—makes him feel a little more human and vulnerable. The way he re-collides with the Invisibles now (yet another instance of "it turns out our heroes had the upper hand the whole time!") is clearly setting up the idea that his shifting allegiances will be central to whatever the final showdown is, and since he's one of a very few remaining characters who have more than a few years of life experience as an in-the-know adult, putting him in that narrative role feels appropriate.


young Miles has a very bad trip


Of the few new characters, the main one is Helga, who is immediately built up as a major player in a way that makes no sense to me—given her total lack of any qualities beyond looking stylish and apathetic, knowing how to do everything just because, and enjoying unusual sex with King Mob—except maybe as another hyper-ironic gesture, sort of a fuck-you toward anyone who thought being invested in characters might be a good thing. Either that, or an inside joke I'm missing (her first appearance is clearly a joke, because "don't mind _____, she doesn't speak a word of English" is a direct quote from Department S, I'm just not sure if she's parodying anything else in particular). I guess Helga could also sort of represent a younger generation that you (if you are a nearly-40-year-old writer who's interested in radical cultural change) might have some trepidations about passing the torch to, and allowing yourself and your friends who seemed important up till now to be sidelined by (as your youth-is-always-right ideology requires), because you kind of feel like nothing they say makes any sense and they don't care about stuff you think is important and you're not sure you even like them. Like a lot of things here, in theory that could be an interesting idea. In theory.

Next: what about Edith? what about Mason? what about De Sade?

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