By: Scott Snyder (story), Sean Murphy (art), Matt Hollingsworth (colors)
The Review: I discovered one of my all-time favorite books when I was in elementary school: D’Aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths.* Though nearly every story within its pages is a treasure, one that really struck me at the time was the Deucalion legend, when Zeus flooded the land for what he saw as man’s transgressions. The similarities to Noah’s Ark were not lost on me, and noticing that was perhaps the first subtle shift in my understanding of religion, history, culture.
As it turns out, the Greeks and Hebrews weren’t the only ones with flood tales, or “hafgufa,” as Dr. Marin calls them in this issue. He cites, in rather chilling fashion, ancient texts from Babylon, China, and India, all recounting the anguish and near extinction of humanity from an unimaginable and unexplainable torrent of water. Though the cause of this seemingly universal disaster remains a mystery in the real world, Snyder uses it quite effectively for his own purposes, simultaneously linking his present storyline with the one to come, and laying out the relationship between The Wake’s creatures and mankind: hostile.
But how did things get so destructive between the two species? If the creatures have “been at war with us since the dawn of civilization,” what was the preceding event that led us down that path? There are hints, no doubt, in the vignettes of the past we’ve seen in previous issues, but real answers prove elusive. It may very well be that the conflict between land-dwellers and sea-dwellers arose from no more than ancient savagery, when both peoples were operating on no more than animal instinct.
However it happened, it’s clear that despite the creatures’ regular attacks on humanity, humanity continued to survive and, more importantly, evolve. People are smarter and more capable now than in previous encounters with the creatures. Lee and Meeks’ ability to confound the creatures, even defeat their big boss, in their own environment is proof of that. Perhaps that’s why Snyder felt it was so necessary to allow the creatures to have such a lopsided triumph in this issue. Their victory is sudden and near-absolute, so much so that it’s almost mundane. We get one glimpse of the devastation in its early stages and that’s it. For this story, it’s not how humanity nearly dies that’s important; it’s how humans manage to rise again, to see “the beginning” where it’s supposed to be “the end.”
And yet, there is an undeniable ending here, even if it’s not of the story. Trust Snyder to always remember, just in time, that there’s a human element at the core of even the most plot-heavy tales. It’s fitting that as Lee’s time with us begins to fade out, we get a glimpse of her past and see what made her into the woman we’ve so faithfully invested in all this time. Snyder brings her story full-circle here: the girl who loved the ocean, who seemed to belong there, realizes that her loyalties ultimately remain with her own kind on land.
Unfortunately, the lesson comes too late. But even though Lee may be resigned to her fate, a part of herself will linger on and carry forward into the future, when The Wake returns in February. Just before the light in her doomed ship flickers out, she tells her son to “[j]ust listen…” Snyder, true to form, won’t let us hear what she has to say, but that in itself tells us that she just left some very crucial information with her son. And what better proof that her legacy survives than in the naming of our next protagonist? “Leeward,” she calls herself.
Murphy has already proven his chops at drawing any genre you can think of on this series, but this issue displays the extent of his emotional strength. Sometimes it’s conveyed directly through the characters, like the young Lee’s beaming face as she tells her dad what her life’s work will be. Sometimes the emotion comes through in the environment. The most heartbreaking scene in the issue is also its most subtle: Lee, clinging to anything she can grab onto in the sinking sub, its verticality showing its inevitable trajectory into the ocean’s depths, as she urgently makes her farewells with her son. Hollingsworth adds his own touches of brilliance to that scene, with the only light in the sub emanating from the fragile image of Lee’s son, while the darkness in the ship threatens to overtake both. I don’t need to explain the metaphor in that, do I?
Conclusion: It’s not often that you enjoy seeing the last throes of humanity as it perishes, but Snyder uses a winning combination of genres to make The Wake’s Armageddon a blast to read, while Murphy pulls out all the stops to make it a blast to see.
Grade: A
– Minhquan Nguyen
Some Musings: * If you’re any kind of mythology buff and haven’t read this book, I strongly suggest you go out and do so at once. You won’t regret it—believe me.
– One minor plot hole: how did that boss creature get so huge? Lee says, “Smallest whale is eight feet long. Largest is a hundred and ten.” Okay, but what does that have to do with the creatures? Why aren’t they all that huge?