Almost a decade ago, Mike Carey and Peter Gross gave us one of the most satisfying conclusions to a serialized comic with “Lucifer” #75. With “The Unwritten: Apocalypse” #12, they have done it again. As it is difficult to review the finale of a long-running series without commenting on the substance of the issue or the series as a whole, please note that the review below hints at spoilers, if not fully gives them away.
Written by Mike Carey
Illustrated by Peter Gross“And I awoke, and found me here…”
Wilson Taylor delivers the apocalypse the only way he knows how: at his son Tom’s expense. It’s the end of the world as we know it. But there’s no need to worry because it’s just a story. Isn’t it? Don’t miss the extra-sized conclusion to the fan-favorite Vertigo series!
First, a quick note: although Mike Carey is technically credited as the sole writer, both he and Peter Gross have spoken in the past about the collaborative nature of the story. Between that and the fact that the pair have been working together for well over a decade, it’s no surprise that neither Carey nor Gross show a particularly telling mark beyond those aspects of the comic that are most obviously “theirs” (that is, the dialogue and the pencils, respectively). Comics has many power duos — Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips, Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely, Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie — and between “The Unwritten” and “Lucifer,” Carey and Gross have no doubt earned a spot near the top of the list.
As the culmination of the series’ many plot threads, the issue could not be better. “The Unwritten: Apocalypse” #12 begins by filling us in on what happened before the supposedly apocalyptic cliffhanger of #11. To call the climax a twist cheapens it; Carey and Gross are not pulling the rug out from under us, but giving us a climactic moment that surprises due to its thunderous delivery, not because it comes out of nowhere. This should be no surprise — throughout the series, and particularly in the past year, there has been an emphasis on “story logic,” and it is hard to think of a more logical ending than in the belly of the whale. Perhaps in the hands of a lesser writer the talking through of what is going on could be considered a fault, but Carey’s skill with the written word makes these moments captivating rather than tedious.
While Tom, Lizzie, and Richie have developed well, the star character of the past year has been Wilson Taylor (followed closely by Pauly Bruckner). As the story wraps up, Wilson grants happy endings to those characters that he can grant such endings to, including a particularly heartfelt, tear-jerking farewell to the greatest fictional rabbit of all time. Wilson, however, gets no such reprieve, nor does he deserve it. As a matter of writing, the easy choice would be to “redeem” Wilson, to have him perform some great act and then treat him as if his one good deed had washed him free of his sins. Of course, Carey and Gross know that redemption is not so easily earned. Sure, Wilson is ultimately the one who saves reality from the bleak void that would be a world without stories, but does that negate the awful things he has done to this point? I think not, Tom thinks not, and I do not believe that Wilson does, either. The guilt he is left with is a heavy burden, to be sure, but a burden he has earned. Perhaps one day he might earn the right to shrug that burden from his shoulders, as the last page suggests, but that day is not today.
The issue looks as great as any of its predecessors, with Gross delivering some of his finest character acting yet. Gone is the chiseled-from-stone Wilson of, say, “Dead Man’s Knock;” instead we see a man visibly wracked with guilt over what he has done to his son, and what he has yet to do. The storytelling is clear and smooth, effectively using various rectangle-based grids while throwing in a couple more inventive layouts for effect (the page immediately following the climax is particularly gorgeous). Gross also gives us one last stylistic shift as we return to the Pequod, giving his usually smooth line work a bit of a rougher edge to match the grime of Melville’s novel. Sparser artists like Gross can sometimes be the victim of colorists who feel like there needs to be “more,” and use their colors to create effects that would be better achieved with pencil or ink. Chris Chuckry, on the other hand, makes each panel seem more full while never distracting with over-rendered shading or highlights. And that’s not even mentioning the palette choices — from the muted grit of the sea to the bright but not overpowering pastels of Mr. Bun’s home, Chuckry knows exactly what tones evoke the right mood. Chuckry’s colors have been impressive from day one, but over the past few years he has honed in on how to make Gross’s pages sing even more sonorously. If I can’t get the whole gang to reunite for a new series, I hope to at least see the two of them working together again.
Continued belowNormally, comic reviews eschew talking about the cover, but to do so for the final issue of a series where the covers are such a crucial aspect would be negligent. As usual, Yuko Shimizu’s cover is a treat, if a bit more simple than previous ones in terms of composition, and it makes for an interesting bookend when paired with the cover to #1 of the original series. In the first cover, we see an almost frantic Tom, tangled in a torrent of words pouring from an open book, on a solid white background, and on this final issue we once again are greeted by Tom, a book, and white background. This time, however, the book is closed, Tom is fading away, and the stress is gone — indeed, he seems serene. Shimizu’s covers are not only beautiful to behold, but they often enhance the reading experience, hinting at what is to come without spoiling anything. This final one is no exception; upon finishing the comic and looking at the cover again, one can hardly think of one more fitting. While I am sure we will still see covers from her in the future, we can only hope that she will become as integral a part of another series as she was in this one.
It’s hard to give an issue like this an “objective” score — particularly when it is the finale to your favorite series of the past few years. However, I can say the following: as a climax and conclusion, everything comes together skillfully; every main character and a few supporting characters are given satisfying ends, particularly Wilson; from cover to interiors, the book is gorgeous; finally (and this is where the fanboyism kicks in), I can’t think of anything I did not like about it or anything I think could improve. With that in mind…
Final Verdict: 10.0 – Flawless (to this reviewer).
