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First volume of ëTransmetropolitaní proves to be a ëmust-readí
Tuesday, 24 April 2007 16:17

David Forbes
I had an appropriately surreal introduction to Warren Ellisí journalist-in-a-world-gone-mad graphic epic ìTransmetropolitan.î

One Saturday night I found myself in the  Joli Rouge, coincidentally the only club in Asheville with a library, several generous shelves long, located right beside the bar.

Several drinks into the night, a gentleman with a shock of red hair and military surplus goggles on his head started chatting with me about Ellisí work. At some point, my profession came up.

ìOh, youíre a journalist. Have you read ëTransmetropolitan?íî

ìNo, canít say that I have.î

ìWell, you have to read it. Have to.î

Sadly, the months went by and I didnít follow his advice. I wish I had earlier, because I picked up the first volume, ìTransmetropolitan: Back on the Streetî (Vertigo, 72 pp. $7.99) recently, and I owe him my thanks ó itís good.

Really, really damned good.

Set at an unspecified time in the future, ìTransmetropolitanî follows journalist Spider Jerusalem, who has happily spent the last five years of his life (and a huge book advance) with his paranoia, his gun collection and a raft of hallucinogens, living out in the wilderness.

However, the money runs out, the publishers come looking for the books heís never written and Spider must go back into The City (which one is never specified; this story deals in the broadest archetypes) to become a day-to-day working journalist once again.

From there, Spider starts to dig into the corruption surrounding a politically rambunctious group of alien-human hybrids, their ex-music producer leader and a rapidly descending police crackdown.

That, of course, is only the barest summary of the story ó and one that really doesnít do it justice. Amazingly for a volume this thin, Ellis and his artistic collaborator Darick Robertson manage to give a potent middle finger to the power-hungry of any era.

At the same time, ìTransmetropolitanî pays tribute to journalismís true gift ó those glorious moments when it can peel back the layers of reality with a scalpel edge and show the world some measure of The Truth.

In just about a million ways Spider Jerusalem serves as a tribute to the late Hunter S. Thompson (who had more of the above moments than most). Heís a drug-guzzling gun nut and gonzo journalist par excellence. Finding out an old friend has been moved up the ladder to an editorís spot, he bursts in with a pistol in an attempt to free him, absolutely sure that heís being held against his will.

Usually I can find some flaw or constructive criticism of a work, however minor. But ìTransmetropolitanî is one of the few things Iíve ever reviewed where I really canít think of anything.

Ellisí writing is pitch perfect, both in overall plotting and the sometimes-stacatto dialogue. Heís created a world ideally suited for a creature like Spider, with an energetically, vibrantly decayed City populace pressing against a hideous political establishment.

This mad future obviously allows Ellis to distill things down to their barest essence (the president is ìThe Beast,î for example), keeping the themes universal no matter how far into science fiction the plot goes.
Robertsonís art is rounded, colors barely constrained by the lines holding them in. Itís clear whatís going on ó but just barely. Walking that line gives the whole story a nicely hazy feel, but doesnít dive off into incoherence.
In some of Ellisí other work (ìStormwatch,î ìPlanetary, Desolation Jonesî) heís brilliantly good, but prone to running off on a tangent with whatever innovative new bit of super-science is rattling around in his brain. This is his most chaotic setting by far, but ironically ìTransmetropolitanî might also be the most focused of his work Iíve ever read.

On that note, dear reader, take my advice: read ìTransmetropolitan.î Read it. Read it. Read it.

And after that, go turn on the news.

I just wonít claim responsibility for what happens next.

 ï
David Forbes, who writes book reviews and covers news for the Daily Planet, may be reached at marauderAVL-at-hotmail.com. Suggestions and comments are always welcome.
 



 


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