Some spoilers here, for the unwary.
The third of the Lucifer comic tpbs, published by an imprint of DC Comics called Vertigo, arrived at my house on Saturday week. No disappointments, yet again, from Mike Carey.
This arc contains one of the most evocative stories of the series so far as the opening issue: Mazikeen’s rehabilitation with the Lilim. The art for that issue is extraordinarily appropriate. The fight scene is suspenseful and the politics involved amongst the children of Lilith is intriguing. Best of all, though, for me was the narrative explanation by Briadach of the Lilim’s history, and how they were barred from the gates of Eden by the impassive (and somewhat scary) seraph with the flaming sword. That seraph was brilliantly drawn - inhuman and unrelenting with burning eyes hidden in a deep hood.
The dalliance itself looks at the politics of hell, and introduces a raft of new characters in Effrul, including the all too human Christopher Rudd. Rudd is a swordsman hanged for his sins in England in the 17th century, and in his heart a good and decent man. His horror at the purpose of his particular section of hell, to provide the vices of demons, was well-portrayed. It’ll be interesting to see what Carey does with Rudd in the long term.
But the confrontation in this arc between Rudd and the Duke of Gly, a minor lord of hell, was a peripheral issue, some fireworks for the punters. It was the address by Rudd to the damned which impressed me. It was some excellent writing, and I read it carefully several times in order to fully appreciate it.
Both love and life, woven together, are equally transient, too easily washed away by time, the loss and insubstantial nature of both a far deeper torment than mere physical pain at the hands of hell’s torturers. I quote a small piece of the speech here, just to give you a sense of the impact:
Rudd’s words, the reminder of everything the damned - and he, as one of the damned - had lost, are far a more intimate and exacting torment. And the words nibble at the reader, too, for you know that in the grand scheme of things, they are true, in that your own existence is pregnant with loss.
Reflective, thought-provoking, and poignant.
Finally, we have the climatic Thunder Sermon, where Lucifer’s capability, as the second most powerful entity in the universe, is revealed, again through the fantastic art. There is a panel where the outine of his face, the platform for an arrogant grin, is bleeding with energy as he lectures his brother Michael on being God’s errand boy. Lucifer’s might usually isn’t demonstrated quite so graphically - he usually relies on his wits and stealth. This time however he’s in fifth gear and in full and open defiance of God (part of a clever argument over jurisdiction which I won’t give away). The story also shows what a total bastard he is, petty in his arrogance towards the intruders in his citadel, and unforgiving of his brother’s duty. You don’t like Lucifer, even as you admire his cojones.
Its fine epic writing, filled with complex and full characterisation, held together by a tightly woven plot. Very engaging, and highly recommended. The best comic being published today.