
If I learned one thing at ComicCon 2008, it’s that the Watchmen movie of 2009 will be huge. HUGE.
Jason re-reads Watchmen every 18 months or so. That coupled with the hype of the movie AND having learned that one of the characters was named Rorschach (yes, as in ink splotches), I took the plunge. It didn’t hurt that we sat behind Watchmen’s illustrator, Dave Gibbons, at the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund auction (I even connived a way to touch the back of his collar without him noticing!). And in the event you have not yet read Watchmen, fear not, there will be no spoilers in this review.
The opening scene has a man being thrown out of a window to his death. And from such a beginning, the tale is off on a classic whodunit. Except the victim and the ones suspicious are hooded avengers. Not “superheros” per se, because, except for one noticeable character, these avengers have no special powers; they can’t fly or see through walls or disappear or leap tall buildings in a single bound. No, they are regular folks that had had enough of crime and took matters into their own hands.
The story begins with the laying of a very solid foundation. This was a bit confusing for me because you are introduced to many characters and there are flashbacks of the same characters when they are younger and so it’s even more faces to keep up with. Their outfits help on this front.
Early on you get the sense that every scene has meaning. That there are clues being left for you in the panels to unravel this mystery without having to have it spelled out for you. So even when the theme switches to the pirate comic a guy is reading beside a news stand, you get the feeling that that pirate story has relevance. And it will, so take heed.
And before too long you find you are drawn in to the world written by Alan Moore and visually effected by Dave Gibbons—a 1980s United States with an alternate history. It feels real. The writing and dialogue are so smooth and flawless; one’s suspension of disbelief is effortlessly given.
But Watchmen is not a simple whodunit. Soon enough you a presented with a world that is on the verge of war, where politicians aren’t motivated simply to serve their country, where distrust of the police and even the hooded avengers is high (there is a repeated message of graffiti on a wall of “who watches the Watchmen.”) Sound familiar? Funny how 20 years can pass and a comic can still touch on themes that are every bit as relevant today as they were then.
When I finished reading Watchmen, my immediate reaction was, “Hmm, that was good. Not, like, amazing, but solid.” The next morning, my mind kept returning to key points of the plot and whether such a story is truly plausible in this post-9/11 world we live in. I still am not sure. The following day, my mind returned to that pirate comic. And the extra materials at the end of each chapter—arrest records, reports of various kinds, newspaper clippings, advertisements, old photographs. And Rorshach’s journal entries. And by the third day of having finished reading Watchmen, I finally understood the true genius of it. Yes, genius. It is the very structure of the novel. There are so many layers in this novel.
One very effective technique Moore uses is to have the dialogue in the pirate comic overlap with scenes from the main story (or the other way around). To do this in one or two panels would be an interesting technique. To do it over and over throughout the entire novel is brilliant. Imagine even creating two concurrent story lines that appear to be completely separate but whose dialogue can interchange—seriously, that is almost an impossible task to do and not have it feel forced. And then to have this second story in fact have significance, bearing, symbolism, to the main story? Genius.
Other techniques employed by Moore are the use of Rorshach’s journal entries and those other materials at the end of the chapters. Layers. There is not one thought bubble in this novel. Instead, you get into the minds of the characters by these other materials. Far more subtle and yet very effective. The result is more thoughtful than your typical comic.
Yet another technique used is symbolism, and this novel has lots of it. And what makes it nice is that it is okay if you don’t get it all (I am positive I missed a lot of things, especially in the beginning—I now understand why my husband has reread it so many times; each rereading garners you more fine tuning). If you don’t figure out the mystery for yourself, it is given to you. There are no real loose strings; no cliffhanger ending begging for a sequel. But it WILL leave you thinking . . . about crime and punishment, war and peace, good and evil, right and wrong, truth and lies . . . as well as politics and laws and forgiveness and utilitarianism—you know, the greatest good for the greatest number.
But, hey, you don’t need to get all phylisophical to enjoy this great work. It has plenty of intrigue and action and mystery to carry the day. Just don’t say you haven’t been warned that it may leave you thinking a bit harder than you expected.