Promethea has the potential to be Alan Moore's finest work. Is it though? After digging through the first volume of Vertigo's new reissues, I have to say, not quite. The fantasy context and incorporation of myth and occultism appeals directly to my taste and make the book's shortcomings that much more disappointing. Alan Moore is my actual father, however, so I'm definitely going to keep reading through the rest of the series as the hardcovers come out and see how things progress.
Chapters 1-3 are very infodumpy and are an alienating start to the series. There's a lot of expository set up and the whole concept is hard to wrap your head around (in typical Moore fashion). To give you an idea, the series starts with a piece of prose detailing the fake history of the titular character from her (non) inception in the 1700's. This history is entirely an invention of Moore's to give a fictional context of how the character has been interpreted in the world of the comic. Really cool and inventive when you think about it, but tough to sink your teeth into.
Chapters 4-9 are where this book really hits it stride. This is where the story is the most character focused, letting Sophie's emotional journey take precedence over the complexity of the plot. Here is where we get the most development of the hinted at lesbian romance between Sophie and Stacia. The relationship between these two and the subtext (sometimes main text) of their queerness is the best part of the comic. Issue 4 begins with the two of them waking up next to each other in bed and after realizing their position, derisively calling each other "an enormous lesbo." There's so much good stuff here. The repression of homosexuality leading to self-deprecation and hostility, especially in a fantasy context, is unique and compelling drama. Unfortunately, even in its best chapters, Moore seems reticent to bring their relationship to the forefront and develop it fully. There is certainly room for fanficcers to resolve the classic queer anger the series provokes – "why can't they just fuck already!" But more than that, the backseat the emotional content of this relationship takes in service of the story leaves me wanting mo(o)re.
In what is probably my favorite chapter so far, Issue 5, Sophie is brought under the wing of one of Promethea's former incarnations. This version, Margaret, brings Sophie through World War I and details how soldiers used the character as a vehicle for their imagination in the trenches. This issue is not only tightly written, it is a thought-provoking treatise on fantasy fiction as a tool for the imagination. The backdrop of the war shows us that fantasy can be used to imagine a world beyond capitalist realism. To quote Moore, "fantasy... is a way to look at the real world through a lens." In this framing, Promethea embodies the greatest potential that fantasy has to offer, a pseudo-psychedelic experience that broadens our imaginations to envision a better world beyond the constrains of hierarchy and domination.
Chapter 6 continues Moore's meta-textual commentary of fantasy and spits in the face of all the cynical critics who misunderstand his work as not being feminist. The incarnation of Promethea, Grace Brannagh, Sophie meets here, teaches her strength while adventuring through a Howard-esque fantasy kingdom. The environment changes around them at the dictation of Grace's pulpy authors. Despite their penchant for "misogynistic bondage scenes," Sophie and Grace are able to use the fantasy environment to their advantage and reduce the authors into powerless heads. The implications are pretty obvious, but no less interesting: despite a troubled history of misogynistic writing, antifeminism is not an inherent trait of fantasy fiction and the genre can be absolved from it. Moore is performing his own absolution through Promethea.
Chapter 7 is another favorite of mine, an absolutely bonkers ride through cheesy experimentation and a near tear-jerker. This issue uses live-action photography to entrance us into "the path connecting matter and imagination." The photos are really hokey and Promethea's outfit looks like the cheapest Xena costume Halloween stores sold in the 90's, but I kind of love it. I admire the experimentation and think the blurring of lines between medium specificity is awesome.This version of Promethea, William Woolcott, was a comics artist who drew Promethea in the world of the story. Bill fell in love with another man, Dennis Drucker, while transformed as Promethea, hiding his real identity until they had already been romantically involved. When Dennis finds out Promethea is actually a man, he murders Bill with a bullet through the head. This story made my mouth drop when I first read it. It's so poignant and again touches on the theme of repressed homosexuality leading to hostility that reflects Sophie's relationship with Stacia. This chapter is unfortunately where Moore's expression of that theme ends, at least for this volume.
I don't know if I've ever seen a series absolutely kill my interest in one issue the way Promethea seems to have done with Issue 10. Earlier on, the character of Jack Faust tells Sophie that he will teach her the depths and inner workings of magic if she sleeps with him. This is played as a tasteless joke and I really didn't think much of it when reading this scene. However, Chapter 9 ends with Sophie turning up at Jack Faust's saying, "okay." Issue 10 is little more than the author trying to recreate one of his greatest hits, the psychedelic sex scene from his run on Swamp Thing. There's a bunch of weird art, references to mythology and abstract conceptions of sex Moore uses to portray Faust and Promethea doing it, but I just don't care. It's fucking gross. Sophie's age is never explicitly revealed, but she looks really young. She's a college student, so presumably of age, but she's drawn to look much younger and Faust is depicted as a withering old man. Despite ham-fistedly decrying the misogyny of fantasy fiction in Issue 6, Moore devolves into the author who doesn't understand women's issues that critics accuse him of. This one issues robs Sophie of all her previously triumphant agency and strength, caving into not only to patriarchal pressure, but a fuckin' creep.
The two issues that close out this edition do nothing to resolve how vile Chapter 10 is. There's a lackluster send-up of 50's sci-fi films in #11 and a prosaic description of every single Tarot card to make up Issue 12. The latter of which's text is so exhausting and uninteresting that I couldn't bring myself to read all of it and just skimmed the art and Sophie's dialogue until I could finally close this thing.
The ups and downs of the story are compounded by art of fluctuating quality. J.H. Williams III's illustrations are never bad, the problem is that the panels are so damn busy. There are exceptions, like in Chapter 5, but more often than not, I don't know where to look after flipping the page. Much like the writing. the panel layout is highly experimental. This approach sometimes results in interesting ideas, but often just comes across like a mess. The messy layout is never helped by Moore's exceptionally proliferate dialogue panels and thought bubbles, which further clutter the page.
Alan Moore is probably my favorite writer ever, which is why my loves and hates for Promethea are both so strong. Conceptually, and in its most finely written moments, Promethea can be some of my favorite stuff ever penned by Moore. At its worst, it's hard to follow (visually and intellectually) and plays into misogynistic pinnings that I know the author is better than. There's still two more volumes and 24 issues to go and I plan on reading all of them. Hopefully, the "messiah of comics" will pull it all together.
