The Invisibles

Written by Grant Morrison
Published by DC Comics

In the world of mainstream comic books, it does not get much stranger than The Invisibles.  When Grant Morrison began the series in 1994, his name was already well known among comics readers; he was loved or hated for his work--a polarization that has lessened in recent years, where Morrison has firmed up the barriers between his commercial work on well-known properties like All Star Superman, Batman and New X-Men and his wilder, more personal work for DC's Vertigo Imprint.  By 1994, Grant had done a stellar job of combining his bizarre taste in the arcane fields of Dadastic philosophy, metafiction and historical trivia with standard DC hero properties.  His early American work in Animal Man, Doom Patrol and Batman: Arkham Asylum never sold in the high numbers they deserved, but the work has stood out as some of the strongest work in American comics in recent years, whereas the more popular comics of that time period have faded in memory.

1994 was a year on the verge of the minor fiscal comics explosion that subsequently shattered the industry in the late 90's--if Grant hadn't started Invisibles when he did, it is unlikely we'd have it today; while it might have seen publication at one of the multiple independent lines of comics that began in those heady years, the crash of the late 90's would have kept something as incredibly unique as The Invisibles from seeing completion.  Even at DC's arthouse line, the series never sold that well, but with the current vogue for purchasing comics in trade paperbacks, Invisibles is a comic that a lot of people now own--although few actually read it.  Comparatively, Invisibles is to comic books what Beckett's Trilogy (Molloy, Malone Dies, The Unnameable) is to literature.  People interested in the field are aware of it, but most have only the most cursory knowledge of them, believing that in some far-flung future they'll have the time, concentration and desire neccassary to actually read the work.

Comparing Beckett to Morrison isn't actually that far off the mark: both create art that requires some level of interpretation to deal with meaning; unlike the majority of their respective fields, neither writer give all the answers, and reading them requires a bit of a creative bent.  Similarily, both works require quite a bit of effort to get through--Morrison and Beckett are both a little too ponderous and intellectual at times, leaving the information required to parse the narrative too far off the page; unsuprisingly, there are not only entire books written on interpreting The Invisibles (a rarity in comics) but an entire website set up using the wiki format meant to deal with The Invisibles and it's sister publications.  While fansites for comic books are intensely prolific on the internet, serving a small, but very loyal, contingent, few of these sites are known for exploring meaning or literary questions.

The Invisibles was originally published in three seperate volumes, taking a total of six years to complete the original serialized publication.  After complaints and confusion regarding the first volume, Morrison is said to have attempted to streamline the narrative a bit for volumes two and three.  Whether this attempt was successful (or even required) is up to the individual reader, although there is a sense of lowbrow entertainment (specifically a dramatic increase in the violent and sexual nature of the story) in the second volume, which makes for quite a relief when one begins the third, which by its very nature as the climax, is as maddening as the strangest parts of the first volume--which include time-traveling psychedelic expeditions to enlist the assisstance of the Marquis de Sade and a cameos by the fifth Beatle, Stuart Sutcliffe during the period of time when he made the worst mistake of his life.  Morrison fills each issue, often each page, with references to every aspect of literary and art culture.  While his focus and love are clearly rested in the more psychedelic portions of history, he doesn't ignore Haitian Voodoo, American violence or his classic punching bag--British royalty.  Whereas another famed comic writer, Alan Moore, is also notorious for attacking the royal family, Morrison goes full tilt, depicting those Dukes and Queens as perverted freaks of the highest order, complete with barborous sex acts and fox hunts--with poor people serving the role of the fox.

The Invisibles follows a loosely counter-cultural battle between a group of terrorists (The Invisibles) fighting against a massive cabal of alien gods, regualar gods, police officers, psychotic serial killers, government employees, swat teams--basically, everybody who (in Morrison's opinion) isn't cool.  They call themselves The Outer Church, but they also have access to the remaining letters of the alphabet that regular people don't, so you never are sure what it is they call themselves.  The Invisibles hits all the neccassary marks of a comic series--we see the formation of a team, we see them train while learning their personal history in flashback, we watch them struggle, fail, and ultimately succeed (probably, this point isn't exactly clear) against a squadron of evil doers, most of whom seem to have no motive beyond the classic comic excuse "that they're the bad guys."  Whearas the Invisibles does attempt to have a plot, the attempts to amp up the action to reach the neccassary end never really work.   What makes it compelling is never the battles or the action, it's the sense that the hidden philosophies of the book are always within grasp, that eventually one will turn the page to find the key to it's mysterious subplots.  Although the aforementioned books and website claim to have a firmer grasp on the meaning of the story than we're speaking of here, that gives them a little too much credit; if anything The Invisibles never reached a balance between the questions it asked, and those that it answered.

While the first trade is the most sold, that is likely due to the fact that it's the usually the first trade that teaches readers to walk away from a book that is far more complicated than the last time Superman fought Lex Luthor.  Usually, when one makes it through the second trade of The Invisibles, most readers are in for the long haul.  Morrison has gotten about as well-known as a comic book writer can be, and his good work now far outnumbers his bad.  The attitude during the actual reading of Invisibles often becomes one of "Well, he seems to think this is really important, so i must just not get it."  For the most part, that attitude helps one get over the rough patches of played-straight voodoo lore and the even more confusing excursions into creepy New Age crystal worship.  Either way, the violence and counter-cultural idol sacrifice moves the reader rapidly through the books, and although the ending leaves much to be desired, finishing the entire thing requires such effort that it certainly feels rewarding.  Whether it is or not depends, really, on how much you like Grant Morrison. 

By 2006, the truth is that you should really like him a lot.  He's that good.