There are a lot of comics out there, but some stand out head and shoulders above the pack. With “Don’t Miss This,” we want to spotlight those series we think need to be on your pull list. This week, we look at the supernatural-war-horror mini-series, “The Whispering Dark.”
Who’s This By?
“The Whispering Dark” is written by the creepy Christofer Emgård (“The Division: Extremis Malis”), with art by the terrifying Tomás Aira (“War Stories”), and letters by the mortifying Mauro Mantella.
What’s This All About?
Crash landing in Russian wilderness, Hannah Vance and her platoon find themselves trying to survive in hostile territory. Cut off from their central command, they push on, only to discover that all is not right with the world around them, beset on all sides by monsters. But who is more monstrous, Hannah wonders, the things with claws and fangs . . . or her platoon’s itchy trigger fingers?
So, Why Should I Read This?
The solicit for issue one positions “The Whispering Dark” as being in conversation with Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness and Coppola’s Apocalypse Now, itself a piece in conversation with Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. While these works are a good shorthand for the tone and content of the piece, what Emgård, Aira, and Mantella have constructed is something else. War is not the focus and neither is the supernatural, at least not for much of the first half of the mini. It is not madness that the comic is concerned with, instead, it focuses on ratcheting up the interpersonal tension of these stranded soldiers through a surprisingly grounded narrative with flavors of a much larger terror out in the unknown.
Lovecraft’s mythos is characterized by this fear of the unknown and the other. In his work, this took the form of racism and sexism, wherein we are asked to share the white, male protagonist’s fear of those he does not understand, those who are not him. There are other monsters, yes, but they are secondary fears, manifestations of cosmic horrors. I bring this up because the deep dread “The Whispering Dark” conjures is not from the what the “others” are doing, in this case Russian soldiers and civilians, but is instead from the actions of our protagonists.
Questions of what is happening, why the world feels so empty, and what is haunting them remain in our minds and the minds of the characters but the unsettling images, events, and creatures are window dressing for the heart of the story: Hannah, and the rest of the soldiers’, choices. These are people who are strained and stranded, running on “go-pills,” and yet, “The Whispering Dark” tells us that the compromises they make are still their own, that they are responsible.
Illustrated by a number of scenes, there is one in particular, in issue two, that perfectly captures the way the creative team acts as one. It is the scene when the soldiers encounter the first real signs of civilians in the area. Aira frames the scene tightly, utilizing close ups to convey the claustrophobia of the house and the high tension of characters. Everyone is talking, overwhelming each other. The word balloons are cramped, tight, half frantic and spiny; the perfect situation for something to boil over. However, it isn’t in that panel, or in a panel with any words that the action is solidified. It is, instead, in the next panel, with a close-up on Hannah’s eyes and her gun, with a small narrative caption. It’s a moment of breath, the moment before a release of tension. . .and a crossroads between de-escalation and tragedy.
It is the coldness of the action that is most striking. Aira breathes life and death into this one panel, telling the full story of who shot when and how without having to break it up into discrete actions. His coloring, too, is gorgeous, allowing beauty to be found in even the harshest of climates, warmth in the closest of places, and terror beyond imagining simply by the way he lights a scene. This carries over to the rest of the comic and is one of the reasons the first issue works so well.
Continued belowThe mini-series opens with a very slow issue that only begins to scratch the surface of what the characters are going to encounter. It sets up the slow pacing of the rest of the series, despite being filled with plenty of action scenes. Hannah’s narration, which is in the past tense, keeps things moving, teasing out future events through her ruminating and worries.
She is the reason we are privy to the idea, early on, that something else is afoot and possibly amiss. The whispers she hears, are they real or just a metaphor? It can be read as both but ultimately, that doesn’t matter because of where the comics derives its dread from.
There is more to this comic than I have discussed, such as the way Hannah’s faith acts as a motif and a touchstone for the character’s journey and the actual supernatural events, but with a mini-series, I can’t give many examples without spoiling too much. However, I will end on the conversation that Hannah has with her father at the start of the mini-series. They are praying next to each other in a church, discussing why Hannah wants to go off to war. The tension between her reasons and her father’s counters act as a lens through which to view her current situation. What is war but a series of unending horrors? How do you remain good when surrounded by that? And what does that say about those who wish to partake in it?
How Can You Read It?
You can get the most recent issue of “The Whispering Dark,” issue #3, from your local comic shop or digitally wherever you get your comics. The trade won’t be out until May 2019 so go check out the two back issues now, this is one series that will remain with you long after you put it down.
