Twenty years ago, at the height of his self-appointed role as chief proselytiser for self-published comics, Dave (Cerebus) Sim addressed a convention of retailers.
One element of his speech was the absolute necessity of the would-be comics writer/artist looking at his/her work honestly and objectively, and working out how long it took to produce a single comic. What that was didn’t matter as much: three times a year? Four times? Six? What was essential was that the artist clearly identified how long it would take to produce an issue that met the standards they wanted to maintain, and then commit to a publishing schedule accordingly.
And once that schedule was established, it was imperative that the artist should maintain it. For the book to slip, for it not to be out when it was promised, was fatal. The publishing schedule was a contract between creator and reader that must not be broken.
This aspect of the speech aroused the ire of Comics Journal editor Gary Groth. Sim was attacked over the speech and for several issues it was not allowed to refer to Sim without the embellishment that he was an anti-creator who believed artists should crank out work on a monthly schedule like the Marvel field-hands.
This wasn’t what Sim had said, but Groth has never been above reducing opponents’ opinions to a straw man that is absolutely indefensible. Besides, this was Sim preaching self-publication as a means of escaping from editorial and publishorial control to produce a pure vision, and Groth’s self-image was indeibly tied to the notion of the Publisher as a sympathetic enabler, guiding creators to their best work.
Whether Groth liked it or not, Sim was right. The original Elfquest series by Wendy and Richard Pini was self-published in a magazine format three times a year, because that was what it took to produce a story with great personal significance to Wendy and her husband. After it had finished, and WaRP Graphics had become an independent comics company, Richard Pini determined that, in order to be commercial, WaRP’s titles had to appear as comic book size, and no less than bi-monthly. To produce the second Elfquest story to this directive, Wendy’s art had to be inked by a hired artist: the difference was more than noticeable.
And as a reader, I can attest to the importance of maintaining that regular schedule, no matter how attenuated it may be: you can wait four months between installments as long as it’s four months. If it becomes six, or seven, or even five, and you no longer have any sense when there will be more to read, interest is diminished. The irresistible example is Fantagraphics’ own Love and Rockets by Los Bros Hernandez, edited by, yes, Gary Groth. After a long period of bi-monthly publication, maintained without difficulty, Love and Rockets started, for whatever reason, to be very sporadic in appearance. Groth defended it as artistic integrity, with Los Bros not prepared to release work until it was right. For this reader, it was a pain: both brothers were engaed in long, complicated serials that, when months would pass without an update, grew increasingly harder to follow and, concomitantly, increasingly harder to care.
All of which is by way of prefix to the long-awaited third issue of Sandman Overture by Neil Gaiman and J H Williams III.
Let us remind ourselves that it is now over a year since this project was announced, announced as a six-issue series, to be published bi-monthly, starting in November 2013. Those familiar with the calendar will easily be able to work out that the final issue of the series should be published in September of this year. Instead, the third issue was released last week, at the very end of July.
It’s very good, in fact it’s more than very good, it’s the best issue to date and a reminder of what made Sandman such a compelling series in the first place.
It’s not a story though, it’s still not a story. It’s a journey, undertaken by Dream and the Dream of Cats, who are the same entity in different bodies, but with thoughts shaped differently by those self-same bodies.
They are walking along an unfeasibly long and fanciful bridge, to reach the City of the Stars, to meet a Star that has gone mad and which is, in an as yet unexplained manner, the heart of the Vortex.
They meet the three Fates, who are surprised at the Cat, who offer knowledge by barter that Dream does not believe he needs.They look under a bed and collect a small girl called Hope that, the Crone implies, it would better not to have discovered.
A War has begun. The Universe is already dying. The colours are exquisite.
More is implied, more of the past is revealed. Gaiman is folding in the beginnning of things for which we know the end.
But at this point, and until the whole thing is available, whenever that will prove to be, I don’t really care. If I hadn’t already bought issues 1 and 2, the first of them in all innocence, I would cheerfully say forget it, and wake me up when the Graphic Novel is available, assuming I’m still alive to see it.
Officially, the series is now quarterly. The Director’s Editions have been quietly forgotten except by those of us unmannerly enough not to let the point go that by any measure this has been a debacle that stains Gaiman’s name as much as DC’s, and he’s got a much brighter name to stain.
Officially, therefore, I’ll be blogging issue 4 round about the end of November/beginning of December. I have not marked any date on my calendar.