Written by Grant Morrison; Art by Steve Yeowell, Jill Thompson and others Throughout history, a secret society called the Invisibles, who count among their number Lord Byron and Percy Shelley, work against the forces of order that seek to repress humanity's growth. In this first collection, the Invisibles latest recruit, a teenage lout from the streets of London, must survive a bizarre, mind-altering training course before being projected into the past to help enlist the Marquis de Sade.
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83 of 107 people found the following review helpful
By Ian Vance
Format:Paperback
Alan Moore's *Watchmen* dropped into the mid-80's Zeitgeist like a nail-bomb, embedding white-hot shrapnel into fertile young minds, shredding long-held preconceptions about the genre, and, all in all, signifying a new level of maturity to the medium of the 'illustrated lit.' - or comic books, if you prefer - with its adult themes and meta-narrative complexity. *Watchmen* tore through the boundaries, building upon the template of the "graphic novel" as pioneered in the early 80's, and therein expanding the potentiality of it ten-fold...it threw down the gauntlet, cocked the hammer of the duel-pistol; it challenged artisans to ~step up their game~, evolve beyond superhero tights and Golden Age clichés; it left a huge vacuum in its wake - and, as we all know, nature abhors a vacuum.
Thus we come to DC's Vertigo imprint, a label intended for mature stories, and more specifically to Grant Morrison and his *Invisibles*, the self-appointed (and occasionally self-conscious) heir to the post-modern *Watchman* wake. Begun in 1996, during a widespread industry slump due in large part to greed and mismanagement, and concluded at the end of 1999, on the eve of the new millennium, *The Invisibles* sought to achieve the depth, breadth and influence of Moore's juggernaught, to give a greater perspective to the fringe-elements of contemporary society, to reveal/ridicule/rise above the morass of ~popular paranoia~ as embodied by the X-files, Fortean Times, David Icke and other exploiters of conspiracy theory... "This is the comic I've wanted to write all my life," Morrison stated at the end of issue 1, "a comic about everything: action, philosophy, paranoia, sex, magic, biography, travel, drugs, religion, UFO's..." In no uncertain terms Morrison envisioned the be-all end-all illustrated compendium of out-there speculation, a kitchen-sink omnibus entailing all theories and systems, a 'hypersigil' that would influence/embody the outward reality it modeled itself on - and, hopefully, make our world a better, more entertaining place in which to dwell. For only with an open mind can we really reap the benefit of life's ongoing pageant, boogie down to syncopated pulse of the information era.
Morrison lacked neither ambition nor energy in his resultant craft, *The Invisibles*, a seven-volume conspiracy-epic that begins here, with 'Say You Want a Revolution.' Does it succeed even moderately to its stated intention? Well, yes - albeit somewhat fitfully. For this volume, besides being the opening gambit of the whole affair, nicely encapsulates the heady potential of Morrison's material, the verve and style, as well as the excess and superficial assimilation that occasionally brings the whole thing into the perilous straights of pretentiousness, of under-compensated imagination-overload. It is fantastic, frustratingly vague, epic and tangent-flabby, a borderline-smirk to all its influences and to those influenced. It's like nothing else on the market - and that alone assures its position on the top-shelf graphic novel 'classics' space.
*The Invisibles vol. 1: Say You Want a Revolution* compiles the first two story-arcs of the series: firstly, the initiation of Dane McGowan into the mysteries of the Invisible order, and secondly, the Arcadia time-warp continuation. The first story is arguably the better and more effective of the two, being a variation on the classic hero/fool's journey from wild agitator to learned acolyte. The art reflects the influence of the 60's that infuses Morrison's storytelling: the draftsmanship, inking, coloring and framing is highly reminiscent of the Ditko/Kerby et al. styling of the Aquarius-Era renaissance in comic books. The second story, Arcadia, veers between two dovetailing plotlines: the Invisibles journey back to the French Revolution to secure the 'psychic projection' of the Marquis DeSade, and find themselves trapped in the libertine's most infamous work, while the Romantic poets Shelly and Byron pontificate about literary influence ("a cannon fires only once, but words detonate across centuries") and cope with personal tragedies. This second story-arc gets a bit messy (literally), but also contains superior writing and art, and builds into an effective climax that, in the end, had me scrambling to collect the rest of the series. Morrison's hypersigil had me.
A literati l'enfant terrible, the author packs his narrative with a mind-boggling assortment of allusions, occult references and outright assimilation. A short list (deep breath): Egyptian symbolism, Situationist propaganda, Rock n' Roll quotation, Irish mythology, psychological probes and split-personalities, Mind Control, Satanic sacrifice, Freemasons, Templar Holy Grail metaphors (including the head of John the Baptist!), the Tarot, UFO's, Alien paradigm-shift assistance, syntax-manipulation, Gnosticism, Aztec demonology, multiple dimensions, etc. etc. Literary references include Shakespeare (King Lear), Carlos Castaneda, Browning, Shelly and Byron, and most explicitly, DeSade's *120 days of Sodom.* Some of these influences are made obvious, some are revealed only via visual interpretation, and some reach the threshold of gratuitous - not all works as well as it could (envisioning DeSade as a contemporary anti-hero is a bit of stretch) - but, overall, the confidence Morrison displays, and the generally successful accruement of his various sources, lends *The Invisibles* the impressive resonance of the meta-narrative, the glamour-sheen of a work in tune to the reverberation of the Zeitgeist, more than ready to challenge its current state, insert the past into the present and therein shape the future mass-consciousness. Morrison claimed that *The Invisibles* would have the same sort of repercussions as the Sex Pistols, hence my review-title; I'm doubtful of this claim, given that *The Invisibles* still remains relegated to underground highbrows, but it ~did~ influence those who made *The Matrix* (striking parallels can be found in the hero's journey segment of this book) - and that cinematic epic, for better and for worse, has forcibly inserted hyper-referential meta-narratives into the cultural identity.
It's easy to criticize ambition. Certainly this book is messy, occasionally pretentious, overly stylistic and a bit smarmy in tone - but throughout, Morrison's intent remains pure:
"And in my mind, I see the sun rise on a new and better world."
Highly Recommended
Thus we come to DC's Vertigo imprint, a label intended for mature stories, and more specifically to Grant Morrison and his *Invisibles*, the self-appointed (and occasionally self-conscious) heir to the post-modern *Watchman* wake. Begun in 1996, during a widespread industry slump due in large part to greed and mismanagement, and concluded at the end of 1999, on the eve of the new millennium, *The Invisibles* sought to achieve the depth, breadth and influence of Moore's juggernaught, to give a greater perspective to the fringe-elements of contemporary society, to reveal/ridicule/rise above the morass of ~popular paranoia~ as embodied by the X-files, Fortean Times, David Icke and other exploiters of conspiracy theory... "This is the comic I've wanted to write all my life," Morrison stated at the end of issue 1, "a comic about everything: action, philosophy, paranoia, sex, magic, biography, travel, drugs, religion, UFO's..." In no uncertain terms Morrison envisioned the be-all end-all illustrated compendium of out-there speculation, a kitchen-sink omnibus entailing all theories and systems, a 'hypersigil' that would influence/embody the outward reality it modeled itself on - and, hopefully, make our world a better, more entertaining place in which to dwell. For only with an open mind can we really reap the benefit of life's ongoing pageant, boogie down to syncopated pulse of the information era.
Morrison lacked neither ambition nor energy in his resultant craft, *The Invisibles*, a seven-volume conspiracy-epic that begins here, with 'Say You Want a Revolution.' Does it succeed even moderately to its stated intention? Well, yes - albeit somewhat fitfully. For this volume, besides being the opening gambit of the whole affair, nicely encapsulates the heady potential of Morrison's material, the verve and style, as well as the excess and superficial assimilation that occasionally brings the whole thing into the perilous straights of pretentiousness, of under-compensated imagination-overload. It is fantastic, frustratingly vague, epic and tangent-flabby, a borderline-smirk to all its influences and to those influenced. It's like nothing else on the market - and that alone assures its position on the top-shelf graphic novel 'classics' space.
*The Invisibles vol. 1: Say You Want a Revolution* compiles the first two story-arcs of the series: firstly, the initiation of Dane McGowan into the mysteries of the Invisible order, and secondly, the Arcadia time-warp continuation. The first story is arguably the better and more effective of the two, being a variation on the classic hero/fool's journey from wild agitator to learned acolyte. The art reflects the influence of the 60's that infuses Morrison's storytelling: the draftsmanship, inking, coloring and framing is highly reminiscent of the Ditko/Kerby et al. styling of the Aquarius-Era renaissance in comic books. The second story, Arcadia, veers between two dovetailing plotlines: the Invisibles journey back to the French Revolution to secure the 'psychic projection' of the Marquis DeSade, and find themselves trapped in the libertine's most infamous work, while the Romantic poets Shelly and Byron pontificate about literary influence ("a cannon fires only once, but words detonate across centuries") and cope with personal tragedies. This second story-arc gets a bit messy (literally), but also contains superior writing and art, and builds into an effective climax that, in the end, had me scrambling to collect the rest of the series. Morrison's hypersigil had me.
A literati l'enfant terrible, the author packs his narrative with a mind-boggling assortment of allusions, occult references and outright assimilation. A short list (deep breath): Egyptian symbolism, Situationist propaganda, Rock n' Roll quotation, Irish mythology, psychological probes and split-personalities, Mind Control, Satanic sacrifice, Freemasons, Templar Holy Grail metaphors (including the head of John the Baptist!), the Tarot, UFO's, Alien paradigm-shift assistance, syntax-manipulation, Gnosticism, Aztec demonology, multiple dimensions, etc. etc. Literary references include Shakespeare (King Lear), Carlos Castaneda, Browning, Shelly and Byron, and most explicitly, DeSade's *120 days of Sodom.* Some of these influences are made obvious, some are revealed only via visual interpretation, and some reach the threshold of gratuitous - not all works as well as it could (envisioning DeSade as a contemporary anti-hero is a bit of stretch) - but, overall, the confidence Morrison displays, and the generally successful accruement of his various sources, lends *The Invisibles* the impressive resonance of the meta-narrative, the glamour-sheen of a work in tune to the reverberation of the Zeitgeist, more than ready to challenge its current state, insert the past into the present and therein shape the future mass-consciousness. Morrison claimed that *The Invisibles* would have the same sort of repercussions as the Sex Pistols, hence my review-title; I'm doubtful of this claim, given that *The Invisibles* still remains relegated to underground highbrows, but it ~did~ influence those who made *The Matrix* (striking parallels can be found in the hero's journey segment of this book) - and that cinematic epic, for better and for worse, has forcibly inserted hyper-referential meta-narratives into the cultural identity.
It's easy to criticize ambition. Certainly this book is messy, occasionally pretentious, overly stylistic and a bit smarmy in tone - but throughout, Morrison's intent remains pure:
"And in my mind, I see the sun rise on a new and better world."
Highly Recommended
28 of 36 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
I have to agree with one of the earlier reviewers that this would have been a better book if it had stopped halfway through. In the first half, we are introduced to the eerie world of the Invisibles from the perspective of the young Jack Frost protagonist, with whom we can relate (obnoxious as he might be).
But the second half of the book suffers from jarring time travel sequences, high gross-out content, arcane conversations, and a lack of sympathetic characters. The Marquis de Sade is, I think, *intended* to be such a viewpoint character, but I found him too strange and off-putting to have much sympathy for him. And the Invisibles themselves already seem to know everything.
That said, I have to conclude that it's a very ambitious and engrossing book nonetheless. The high point for me was Jack Frost's initiation to the Barbelo and whatnot, at the end of the 4th chapter. That had me really hooked, despite the fact that things got less interesting as the story went on.
I can definitely recommend this book to people who liked THE ILLUMINATUS! TRILOGY and some of the more paranoid Philip K. Dick novels; that sort of thing.
8 of 9 people found the following review helpful
By Joe Kenney
Format:Paperback
The Invisibles is the only comic I've ever collected from first issue to last. When it started in 1994 I was a sophomore in college, and when it ended a few months into 2000 I was holed up in a soul-sapping corporate job. Regardless, during those 6 years I was able to get my hands on each issue, despite the fact that I'd "quit" reading comics in high school. But there was something special about the Invisibles, and it kept me coming back for more; I even set up a service with the local comic store so they'd hold each month's issue for me, and I'd come in every few weeks, grab them, and high-tail it out of there.
The Invisibles, as a whole, is as important to the `90s as "Naked Lunch" was to the `50s, as "Illuminatus!" was to the `70s. I suspected this when reading the comic monthly, but now, years later, I know it for a fact. Unfortunately, it's doubtful more people will come to this realization, as the Invisibles is simply too big to fit into one handy volume, a la those aforementioned subversive classics. To digest the entire story, you need to track down seven trade paperbacks. No doubt this will stunt the virus-like growth the Invisibles would otherwise engender on the innocent minds of those who read it. This series can change lives; this has been proven and accounted for.
"Say You Want a Revolution" is the first book of the Invisibles, and this early out, things are presented in more of a black and white/us versus them scenario; it is only in later volumes that writer/creator Grant Morrison begins to subvert and reveal the "larger picture." Here we are taken by the hand and led into the underground and bizarre world of the Invisibles by tagging along with Dane McGowan, an unruly, teenaged Liverpudlian street punk who just might be humanity's last hope in the battle against the Archons, demonic enforcers of Order. The opening half of this book details Dane's initiation, and here we meet the cast of characters who will carry the series till the end.
First and foremost, there's King Mob, a multi-pierced assassin excelling in physical and psychic combat. Next there's Ragged Robin, a sometimes-crazy redhead with psychic powers who claims to be from the future. There's Boy, the ironically-named black woman who's an ex-cop with all sorts of skeletons in her closet, and a black belt in every form of martial art to boot. And finally there's Lord Fanny, transvestite shaman supreme. Dane himself is a ragamuffin of a lead character; you'll probably dislike him for the first few issues, until the human is revealed beneath all of the cursing.
"Say You Want a Revolution" begins with a quick pace, Dane being locked up in a sinister boarding school by agents of the Archons, and King Mob coming to his rescue with guns blazing. After that things slow down for a while, as Dane is tutored by the magically-powered Tom O'Bedlam. This section is good reading, as gradually Dane becomes a more likeable character, but the rest of the Invisibles disappear for a while, and some of the dialog (particularly from Tom) comes off as Morrison pontificating to his audience. It gets to be a bit too much after awhile.
At any rate, Dane is soon initiated (which entails a jumping-from-a-skyscraper test that was completely stolen by the producers of the Matrix), and his adventures with the Invisibles proper begin. However, those expecting the slam-bang escapades hinted at in the early issues will have to wait; instead of more fireworks, the team (or "cell" as they call themselves) mentally project themselves into the past, to bring one of their own back to the 1990s. This Invisible of the past is none other than the Marquis De Sade, and this section of the book, complete with sideline discussions between Elizabethan poets Byron and Shelley, is undoubtedly the most "literary" comic ever written. Unfortunately, this story arc was also nearly the death bell for the series, so early into its run: sales dropped to negligible levels.
The Marquis De Sade storyline is wrapped up in time for the volume's end, however we're left with one heck of a cliffhanger. And that's pretty much it. If my review sounds a bit negative, don't be fooled. It's just that these opening stories seem very static when compared to what comes later. I realize this was not only intentional but necessary; had the series began with the whirlwind events presented in later volumes, a lot of people would have jumped ship in confusion, and the series might never have been completed.
Morrison's writing is his trademark bevy of ideas, one-liners, and profundities. Some of it can come off as a bit too self-serving (King Mob's conversation with Boy in the club, for example), but not so much as to annoy. The Invisibles in a way works as Morrison's autobiography; no doubt it will be what he is remembered for, in decades to come.
The art, however, is where the trouble comes in. The Invisibles was plagued with a procession of artists throughout its run, some talented, some workmanlike. The closest the series ever got to a "regular artist" was Phil Jimenez, and he only lasted for about fourteen issues. Here the art chores are split between Steve Yeowell and Jill Cramer. Yeowell's art is a bit too scratchy and ragged for my tastes, but it gets the job done. Cramer's is a bit more "artsy" and elegiac. Both artists are fine, but future volumes boast great material by Chris Weston, Phil Jimenez, and the unrivaled Frank Quitely.
This first book of the Invisibles is your introduction to one of the greatest works of the 20th Century (and I truly mean that). Once you read it, you're either in or you're out. To quote the phrase that adorns each of these collections: "Which side are you on?"
The Invisibles, as a whole, is as important to the `90s as "Naked Lunch" was to the `50s, as "Illuminatus!" was to the `70s. I suspected this when reading the comic monthly, but now, years later, I know it for a fact. Unfortunately, it's doubtful more people will come to this realization, as the Invisibles is simply too big to fit into one handy volume, a la those aforementioned subversive classics. To digest the entire story, you need to track down seven trade paperbacks. No doubt this will stunt the virus-like growth the Invisibles would otherwise engender on the innocent minds of those who read it. This series can change lives; this has been proven and accounted for.
"Say You Want a Revolution" is the first book of the Invisibles, and this early out, things are presented in more of a black and white/us versus them scenario; it is only in later volumes that writer/creator Grant Morrison begins to subvert and reveal the "larger picture." Here we are taken by the hand and led into the underground and bizarre world of the Invisibles by tagging along with Dane McGowan, an unruly, teenaged Liverpudlian street punk who just might be humanity's last hope in the battle against the Archons, demonic enforcers of Order. The opening half of this book details Dane's initiation, and here we meet the cast of characters who will carry the series till the end.
First and foremost, there's King Mob, a multi-pierced assassin excelling in physical and psychic combat. Next there's Ragged Robin, a sometimes-crazy redhead with psychic powers who claims to be from the future. There's Boy, the ironically-named black woman who's an ex-cop with all sorts of skeletons in her closet, and a black belt in every form of martial art to boot. And finally there's Lord Fanny, transvestite shaman supreme. Dane himself is a ragamuffin of a lead character; you'll probably dislike him for the first few issues, until the human is revealed beneath all of the cursing.
"Say You Want a Revolution" begins with a quick pace, Dane being locked up in a sinister boarding school by agents of the Archons, and King Mob coming to his rescue with guns blazing. After that things slow down for a while, as Dane is tutored by the magically-powered Tom O'Bedlam. This section is good reading, as gradually Dane becomes a more likeable character, but the rest of the Invisibles disappear for a while, and some of the dialog (particularly from Tom) comes off as Morrison pontificating to his audience. It gets to be a bit too much after awhile.
At any rate, Dane is soon initiated (which entails a jumping-from-a-skyscraper test that was completely stolen by the producers of the Matrix), and his adventures with the Invisibles proper begin. However, those expecting the slam-bang escapades hinted at in the early issues will have to wait; instead of more fireworks, the team (or "cell" as they call themselves) mentally project themselves into the past, to bring one of their own back to the 1990s. This Invisible of the past is none other than the Marquis De Sade, and this section of the book, complete with sideline discussions between Elizabethan poets Byron and Shelley, is undoubtedly the most "literary" comic ever written. Unfortunately, this story arc was also nearly the death bell for the series, so early into its run: sales dropped to negligible levels.
The Marquis De Sade storyline is wrapped up in time for the volume's end, however we're left with one heck of a cliffhanger. And that's pretty much it. If my review sounds a bit negative, don't be fooled. It's just that these opening stories seem very static when compared to what comes later. I realize this was not only intentional but necessary; had the series began with the whirlwind events presented in later volumes, a lot of people would have jumped ship in confusion, and the series might never have been completed.
Morrison's writing is his trademark bevy of ideas, one-liners, and profundities. Some of it can come off as a bit too self-serving (King Mob's conversation with Boy in the club, for example), but not so much as to annoy. The Invisibles in a way works as Morrison's autobiography; no doubt it will be what he is remembered for, in decades to come.
The art, however, is where the trouble comes in. The Invisibles was plagued with a procession of artists throughout its run, some talented, some workmanlike. The closest the series ever got to a "regular artist" was Phil Jimenez, and he only lasted for about fourteen issues. Here the art chores are split between Steve Yeowell and Jill Cramer. Yeowell's art is a bit too scratchy and ragged for my tastes, but it gets the job done. Cramer's is a bit more "artsy" and elegiac. Both artists are fine, but future volumes boast great material by Chris Weston, Phil Jimenez, and the unrivaled Frank Quitely.
This first book of the Invisibles is your introduction to one of the greatest works of the 20th Century (and I truly mean that). Once you read it, you're either in or you're out. To quote the phrase that adorns each of these collections: "Which side are you on?"
Most Recent Customer Reviews
5.0 out of 5 stars
Mindblowing
This is the text for The Invisibles (Volumes 1-3) from my comics blog, Breaking the Fourth Wall, which can be found at: bt4wall [dot] wordpress [dot] com. Read more
Published 3 months ago by Vish Singh
5.0 out of 5 stars
Grant Morrison's Fever Dream in Print
I bought this book about a year ago thinking I'd read it and decide if I wanted to check out the rest. Read more
Published 10 months ago by MJ Bodie
4.0 out of 5 stars
CONSIDERED TO BE A CLASSIC
This is the first volume of what many consider to be a classic series. The first half focuses on a young Jack Frost, a problem teenager, who is initiated into the Invisibles and... Read more
Published 16 months ago by MISTER SJEM
1.0 out of 5 stars
Alan Moore for dumb people
Grant Morrison wants desperately to be Alan Moore, only hipper. The only problem is he doesn't have one tenth the talent or intelligence Moore has. Read more
Published 18 months ago by T. Nicholas
4.0 out of 5 stars
Complex...Confusing...Entertaining
I have become a big fan of Grant Morrison over the last 2 years and have been catching up on a lot of his older work. Read more
Published 21 months ago by Stevie Z
5.0 out of 5 stars
What Just Happened?
I just finished reading the entire 7 volume series and I'm not entirely sure if I like it or not. The Invisibles raises many fascinating issues and makes us question our beliefs... Read more
Published on May 15, 2011 by H. Muller
5.0 out of 5 stars
A life-changing work of art
The world Morrison created with The Invisibles is nothing short of life-changing. The religious, metaphysical and historical references are many. Read more
Published on December 28, 2010 by Superhamster
5.0 out of 5 stars
5 Stars for the series
My 5 star rating is for "The Invisibles" as a whole, as I'm too lazy to review every one of these collected volumes individually. Read more
Published on November 27, 2010 by Cilantron Xenotheophilos ERV
5.0 out of 5 stars
Invisibles
A great story with a theme of revolution and magic- what more could a comic reader want?
Published on May 3, 2010 by Lucas Herr
1.0 out of 5 stars
Stupid British Comic
Terrible Comic. The description is nothing like the Comic. I can barely finish this terrible piece of work
Published on November 25, 2009 by GilGaMish
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