This Absolute edition collects all twelve issues of Watchmen, plus a slew of extras.
Writer: Alan Moore
Artists: Dave Gibbons (p&i), John Higgins (c)
Publisher: DC
Watchmen is to comics what the Beatles' "White Album" is to pop music. Both are highly influential works of art which are lauded by virtually everyone that experiences them, and both still struggle to be equalled by contemporary artists even decades after their creation. It's also arguable that both Watchmen and the White Album took a nascent art form which was regarded as juvenile, immature and crude (for the Beatles it was pop music specifically; in Watchmen's case, comic books in general - but with a particular focus on superheroes), and elevated it to a higher plane, paving the way for all who followed them, yet still overshadowing subsequent works to this day. Simply put, Watchmen is one of the few comics which aficionados of the medium are virtually unanimous in declaring a must-read, and its much-mooted recent appearance on Time magazine's list of the twentieth century's most important novels cemented its position as the first major turning point in the long journey towards the recognition of comic books as a 'legitimate' art form.
Despite the apparent simplicity of its superhero roots, the book defies easy categorisation: on a base level, it's a reasonably straightforward flights 'n' tights epic which sees a group of washed-up heroes of the past face up to their own complicated histories, attempting to recapture some of their past glory at the same time as a powerful conspiracy threatens to undermine society itself. There's also a lot of human drama in the book, and there's as much attraction in seeing the complex web of relationships between the heroes unfold as there is in seeing them struggle against the underlying threat of the series. Yet Watchmen is deceptively complex, revealing secrets, nuances and deeper levels of meaning many years after over-familiarity would have exhausted the appeal of lesser works. Having devoured the book multiple times, it's telling that each new read feels like a slightly different experience, as the elements that are most striking at first glance soon give way to the book's less obvious subtexts and layered messages. It's easy to see the story as an allegory which examines the way in which power can corrupt, and which acts as a cautionary tale for a human race that (especially at the time that the book was originally published) appeared to be paving the way for its own demise more effectively than ever before. Indeed, there's a notably greater attempt at verisimilitude to be found in Watchmen than in most superhero comics, with only one major event setting the book's universe apart from the real world: in Watchmen, it's the creation of the omnipotent, godlike Dr. Manhattan which acts as the stone which is thrown into the stream of time, setting the reality presented in the book on a different, yet parallel course to our own. Historical events of the 1970s and 1980s are even explicitly referenced, albeit with twists such as the deployment of Dr. Manhattan in support of the USA's war efforts in Vietnam, and the passing of laws to outlaw costumed vigilantes. There's a heavy undercurrent of Cold War angst running throughout the book, as well as a hypertextual commentary on the story's themes which is provided by the comic-within-a-comic that is Tales of the Black Freighter, a pulpy pirate yarn which also functions as a dark, ominous musing on humanity's capacity for self-destruction. In the original pitch for the book which can be found in this edition’s extra material, Alan Moore claims to reject the notion that a comic book universe needs to be close to our own and easy to relate to in order for readers to find it involving. However, in examining the more realistic implications that the presence of superheroes might have on society, and in exploring his characters' personalities and motivation in far greater depth than anything that had been attempted in the genre up to that point, Moore actually creates a fantasy which is far more relevant and culturally significant than the escapism that had been provided by his peers for so long. The endpapers that accompany each issue reinforce the reality of Moore's fictional universe, presenting extracts from books, magazine articles and interviews which give us additional information about the story and its characters, enriching the already detailed world that the writer has created. It's interesting to know that Moore had originally intended to use characters from Charlton comics (which had at that point been recently purchased by DC), and there are obvious elements of those characters which have been retained, but the commercial imperatives that ultimately restricted him from doing so may actually have made Watchmen even more successful: without any previous baggage, Moore is free to do as he likes with his cast of characters and their world, pushing the limits of what can be done in the genre - and the mixture of childish Gold and Silver Age hero archetypes with a darker, more realistic and more complex edge makes the book an excellent metaphor for the coming-of-age of comic books themselves.
There's no doubt that Watchmen broke new ground for the medium - but in many ways, the weight of expectation provided by the book's arrival on the scene has been an albatross for the comics industry, as whilst 1986 also saw classic and equally innovative superhero deconstructions provided by Frank Miller in Daredevil's Born Again and Batman's Dark Knight Returns, there's been little to match that period of raw innovation and creativity since. Considering that the book is celebrating its 20th Anniversary this year, it's therefore important to address a few questions: Is Watchmen still relevant? Does it retain the power that it would have had upon first publication? And has it really changed comics, or did it hold the promise of a legacy of more intelligence and sophistication in the medium which never manifested itself?
To some extent, Watchmen's success was likely due to the surprising realisation that a comic book can be constructed and executed with as much complexity and maturity as a prose novel. Many of Moore's writing techniques are not particularly innovative or inventive, but they mark one of the first times that such sophistication in storytelling was brought to the bastard medium of comic books, and their application in the field revolutionised the way people see comics. For a single work to have made such a difference ensures its place in comics history as a revered classic, but whereas other literary classics can feel dated and anachronistic in the modern world despite the quality of their execution, Watchmen still holds up surprisingly well. An excellent example of how little the nature of politics really changes, the themes explored by the book are still uncannily pertinent today: the power of the media, the manipulation of society by fear, the popularity of cynical conspiracy theory, an "ends justify the means" approach to foreign policy, and the idea that the road to hell is paved with good intentions all espouse ideas which could have been ripped from the headlines today. However, Moore mirrors his canny political insight with a more grounded exploration of human nature, and the universal themes of love, morality, social conscience and the essence of the human spirit are touchstones for the book which are just as important as its grander global concerns. It's impossible to put myself in the shoes of a reader in 1986, but Watchmen is still so accessible and relevant that it would stand up just as well if it were released today - and that should tell you everything you need to know about its staying power.
But what of Watchmen's legacy? Despite the revolutionary nature of the book, I can't help but feel that the brave new world of superhero comics that was promised by Moore and Gibbons' series failed to materialise. Whereas we might have expected new levels of sophistication in the adventures of our 'long underwear characters’, what we actually got was the creative nadir of the 1990s - a period which is now seen as the almost fatal collapse of the entire comics industry. Could it be that - instead of opening up new horizons for the genre - Watchmen actually served as the last word on superheroes? Were the hollow, sales-oriented days of the 1990s an intimidated reaction to a new standard of storytelling that could never be matched? It would be a little extreme to say so, as whilst we may struggle to point to a book which has had as much impact on the medium since Watchmen, it's impossible to deny that subsequent creators have continued to push the boundaries of comic books in their own way. However, there's been nothing to really equal the explosion that came in 1986, and it's ironic to consider that - despite the demographic of comics readership being more adult-oriented than ever - the superhero genre has remained characterised for the most part by the same shallow, simplistic and formulaic storytelling conventions that Moore's opus sought to address. We need only look at DC and Marvel's most recent event comics (a muddled throwback to the Silver Age and a high-concept yet shallow excuse to watch superheroes fight each other like action figures, respectively) to see how little things have evolved in twenty years. Yes, there are notable exceptions - and people may point to writers such as Grant Morrison or Warren Ellis as the natural heirs to Moore's throne - but whilst some creators have been able to attain similar levels of intellectual achievement in the medium of comics, I'm yet to find a writer who can combine those talents with the kind of accessible, elegant storytelling and flowing prose which makes Moore such a natural fit for the world of comics. I can't think of anybody else working in comics today who could pull off an issue like, say, Watchmen #4, which gets inside the mind of a godlike being so effectively that - despite its convoluted structure, highbrow scientific preoccupations and fantastical contrivances - it manages to make Dr. Manhattan's fractured worldview eminently relatable, comprehensible and sympathetic, and still stands as one of my favourite single issues of any comic to date.
It's surprising that this new "Absolute" edition is the first time that Watchmen has really been given the de luxe treatment - if you don't count the rare 'Graphitti' edition, which has been highly sought-after for many years due to the wealth of extras which it contained. Thankfully, those extras are all reproduced here, and in addition to the oversized, luxuriously bound and slipcased Absolute format, it really is the finest presentation that the book has ever received. The paper quality is high, although DC haven't gone for a glossy, modern finish which could detract from the elegant simplicity of Gibbons' linework. This edition also sees an overhaul in the colouring, with a remastering process which has been overseen by Gibbons and John Higgins. When you compare the Absolute edition with the original, some of the differences are quite striking. There’s a notable attempt to keep Dr. Manhattan’s blue hue as consistent as possible (the original saw the tone vary from a light, powder blue to a much darker shade), and in some cases a very different approach has been taken in “lighting” a scene, such as this bottom-right panel featuring the comedian – a paler yellow in the original printing, replaced here with a far deeper palette:
Other pages show more subtle changes, enriching the original tones but staying faithful to the original approach, such as this sequence on Mars:
Whilst yet other pages show a definite choice to change the original colouring, such as these pages in which blues are replaced with colder greys:
Die-hard purists may question the need to revise the colouring so extensively, but there’s no doubting that the book looks far better on the whole, and I much prefer the new look overall.
In addition to the original twelve issues, there are afterwords by both Moore and Gibbons which give some insight into how the project came into being and what a mammoth achievement it was for both creators. Moore's piece is particularly interesting, shedding some light on his feelings towards superhero comics and what he wanted to achieve with the book. There's also a copy of Moore's original proposal for the book which goes into detail about the themes and tone of the series, showing a remarkable self-awareness concerning just how mould-breaking Watchmen would turn out to be. There's an extensive gallery of character descriptions which prove to be a particular mine of information, as each one is split into two sections - one which deals with an original Charlton character (back when Moore had hoped to use them) and one which details the new character that Moore was forced to create as an analogue for his original choice. This allows you to track the creative process from Moore's original attempts to integrate the Charlton characters' histories into the story he wanted to tell, to his creation of new players who would fill similar roles – but which could be crafted to be a perfect fit for the new universe that the writer was putting together. Alongside these descriptions - each of which is loaded with significant character information, revealing much about their motivation and personalities in the story - are Dave Gibbons' concept designs. As well as being great looking images in their own right, they offer an early glance at the conception of the characters, with the same kind of emphasis on realism and logical detail that Moore applied to his character concepts. The final designs of the characters as they appear in the issues only differ from these initial impressions in fairly minor ways, and it just goes to show how well-synchronised the two creators were when planning their masterpiece.
The other extras consist of a few pages of promotional artwork, sketches and alternative covers, all of which I hadn't seen anywhere before. I always enjoy seeing how a visual idea evolves from a quick sketch to a finished piece, and there's a lot to devour here. Considering the clean-cut, smooth quality of the book's visuals, it's educating to see how much effort goes into the construction of Gibbons' figures, and this bonus material has raised my opinion of him as an artist considerably. There are plenty of page layouts to get stuck into, and they are accompanied by several pages of Moore's extensive script, with annotations and highlighted sections which show how Gibbons went about extracting the visual information he needed from Moore's long, descriptive passages. Although it's a drop in terms of quantity from collections like Absolute Batman: Hush, it's important to remember that Watchmen's age works against it in terms of the availability of extra material, and we're fortunate that they've managed to include as many high-quality added bonuses as they have.
The two decades which have passed since Watchmen's publication may have seen superhero comics stagnate to a certain extent, and as a genre it certainly hasn't overcome its simplistic, childish trappings to the extent that readers in 1986 might have hoped. However, to read Watchmen again is to reignite the spark of a suggestion that superheroics and sophistication don't have to be mutually exclusive concepts, that superhero comics might still have something profound and important to say, and that there may be yet more new ground to be broken in future by someone who can take to concept and do something genuinely fresh and innovative with it. Until that day, we'll have to be content for this book to continue to reign as the pinnacle of the genre - and the Absolute edition is a fine package which ensures that we'll still be watching the Watchmen for a long time yet.
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