I am the first one to admit a personal bias for science fiction (I blame “Star Wars” and Isaac Asimov). Therefore, I can understand your doubts when I say that the miniseries “Spaceman” is Brian Azzarello’s greatest work yet. Sure, “100 Bullets” sold a lot more copies, but it had trouble maintaining its early momentum toward the end and lacked a sympathetic central protagonist. His work on the New 52 “Wonder Woman” has impressed many readers, while simultaneously making a few changes to her origin and mythology that have angered a seemingly small yet vocal group of long-time fans. “Spaceman” suffers from none of these problems–it’s a fast-moving sci-fi thriller in a unique, fully realized future Earth all its own, starring a lost and lonely soul you just can’t help but root for.
“Spaceman” is the story of Orson, a genetically engineered humanoid designed and created by NASA to survive in the low-gravity environment of Mars. The spacemen, as Orson and his “bruddas” are called, were to be humanity’s first living space explorers to travel beyond the Moon. However, the Mars expedition went far over budget, and when global warming melted the ice caps and rising ocean levels became a global crisis, NASA was dismantled and the spacemen were dispersed among foster homes and orphanages.
The book follows a dual narrative of sorts, only instead of seeing the same story told from two different perspectives, one character experiences two from different times in his life. One narrative follows him and three of his fellow spacemen on the ill-fated Mars expedition, and the other sees him living on Earth as a scrap metal salvager after NASA was dismantled. In the Mars narrative, the spacemen are conducting an experiment to see if they can grow food in Martian soil when an accident causes their greenhouse to explode. With months to wait before the next supply ship is due, they are forced to find something else to occupy their time, if they don’t fight each other to death before it arrives. In the Earth narrative, Orson is out searching for scrap submerged under the risen ocean when he happens across a kidnapped child reality television star and her assailant. Unsure whether the network has staged the kidnapping for the sake of ratings, Orson tries to keep her safe by keeping her around until they can find out who the real bad guys are. Naturally, everything goes wrong, as the authorities begin to believe that Orson himself is the kidnapper, and hire another spaceman named Carter, a bounty hunter, to track him down.
The world that Orson lives in is a post-global-warming wasteland. Things aren’t quite as bad as “Waterworld,” though, as not everything is submerged. The affluent live in a vast walled-in paradise known as the Dries, protected from the ocean by a massive levy that also serves as a barrier between them and the slums known as the Rise, the half-submerged urban landscape inhabited by everyone not lucky or successful enough to live in the Dries. Orson’s home is in the Rise, but even there he is an outsider. He is often treated like a monster, mocked or shunned by those around him, except for a gang of local street urchins fascinated by the former celebrity and his unique frame. There is one aspect in which he can relate with the inhabitants of the Rise–they’re all trying to escape from their bleak reality through the temporary distractions of drugs, virtual prostitution and reality television.
In Azzarello’s dystopian future, reality television has become even more prevalent, and one show in particular has everyone hooked. “The Ark” is a show in which orphans from around the world compete for a chance to be adopted by an insanely rich celebrity couple. It’s kind of like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie turning their family life in to “Survivor.” Last year’s winner and the popular favorite was Tara, a young orphan girl raised somewhere similar to Orson’s home in the rise. It is she who is kidnapped and rescued by Orson, who sees in her his reflection: he’s a former celebrity, now an orphan, and she’s an orphan-turned-celebrity. Seeing in her all of the potential he has lost, Orson is determined to ensure she makes it through the ordeal safe and sound, and his success and failure in that endeavor makes up the bulk of the main, Earth-based narrative.
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It’s never made entirely clear whether the Martian narrative is “real” or not–it could be Orson’s memories of an actual expedition, an alternate timeline of what would have happened had NASA not been dismantled, or merely a series of pipe-dreams brought on by Orson’s ongoing drug habit. I am inclined to disbelieve the last, as the Martian narrative is too coherent and complete–a level of clarity I can’t imagine is possible in a drug-induced haze. However, it’s not really important to the main story whether the Maritan one is true–what really matters is what it tells us about Orson and Carter’s relationship, and what Orson could have been if the world hadn’t gone to hell.
Orson is ultimately a tragic character–he should have been a great explorer, leading humanity into space and a great future. Instead, he is but a humble scavenger, carving up into scrap the pieces of our ruined past. In that way, it’s practically a commentary on the wasted potential of the Industrial Age itself. In the end, all we really have to show for ourselves is so much accumulated garbage. We’ve forgotten that it’s our humanity and the shared human experience that really matter. Orson is a good man–honest trustworthy, willing to put himself in harm’s way to save an orphan he has never met–but he too is lost and forgotten. Like the wasteland he lives in, he has nothing left to make of himself–until he runs in to Tara. His future may be over, but if he can save her, it won’t all have been lost in vain.
As is often the case in Azzarello’s work, much of the dialogue is written in dialect, in the tradition of Anthony Burgess’ “A Clockwork Orange.” In “Spaceman’s” case, that dialect is a devolved form of English, a futuristic hodge-podge of street slang and text speak. This can take some effort to interpret. I recommend reading the whole tale in one go so you can get used to it; it also helps to read it out loud and sound it out phonetically. This can be distracting and pull you out of the story at first, but when you get used to it, it has the opposite effect–it pulls you in to this highly-detailed post-industrial world that Azzarello and Risso have constructed. It also adds a certain level of credibility to it–this is a dialect that very well may evolve out of our current modes of speech as upcoming generations grow up in a ubiquitously digital culture.
Azzarello and Risso have been collaborators for almost fifteen years now. They have become quite comfortable working together, enough so that it’s hard to tell where one’s influence ends and the other begins. Azzarello seems quite comfortable letting Risso’s art tell much of the story. There are several nearly silent scenes, and often even where there is dialogue, it depends heavily on the visual clues provided by Risso’s work to provide clarity to Azzarello’s futuristic slang. This is a wise choice–Risso is a very talented storyteller, deft at character “acting” and constructing smooth, lively action sequences. My only complaint is that it can be difficult to tell the Spacemen apart in the Mars sequences–there, you have to rely on dialogue and minor differences in haircuts to tell them apart.
The unsung hero of “Spaceman is colorist Tricia Mulvihill, whose vibrant colors bring Risso’s often sparse lines and backgrounds to life. Her shifting color palettes give a unique character to the rapidly shifting scenery of the book, helping the reader to keep up, as well as setting the right mood for each scene. Clem Robbins does a great job with the lettering, although he’s a bit heavy-handed with the bolded emphasis for my tastes. Dave Johnson’s often surrealistic covers are perfectly suited for the often bizarre yet very personal story within.
Brian Azzarello seems to me like one of those hit-or-miss writers. He’s either on the top of his game, or he’s writing “Before Watchmen.” Some people love him, others hate him, but most can agree that books like “100 Bullets” and the New 52 “Wonder Woman” prove that when he’s on, he’s one of the better writers in the DC talent pool. “Spaceman” is definitely Azzarello at the top of his game. Now, I will admit that “Spaceman” isn’t a story for everyone. It’s a book that takes a little effort to read, but if you’re willing to put in that effort you will enjoy this book greatly.
If you want to give “Spaceman” a try, you might have trouble tracking down all nine issues. The deluxe hardcover edition comes out November 7th, and at $24.99 is roughly the same price you would have paid for all nine issues (the first issue retailed for only a dollar). I’d recommend ordering a copy of the hardcover rather than hunting down the floppies. The dialogue is easier to follow if you read the whole book in one sitting, plus it’ll look great on your shelf.
