Some things are so bizarre that they are wonderful, even if the beholder has no idea why. Grant Morrison and Cameron Stewart’s Seaguy definitely meets the bizarre criteria, while still presenting an engaging and entertaining read.
ertainly a very Morrison story, giving the reader a study of the superhero concept while wrapping it in all sorts of surrealism. After the defeat of the ominously named Anti-Dad, super-villainy has come to an end. The remaining superheroes of old remain in a sort of retirement under the watch of the ever-jolly Mickey Eye, content to have a well-deserved rest. Among these few ex-heroes is the cheery Seaguy, who lives with his sidekick Chubby Da Choona (a wise-cracking fish that would rather hover than swim). While everything in New Venice is perfect, Seaguy still has a lust for adventure that seems to have vanished from his fellow do-gooders. After accidently finding a living sample of the artificially created snack, Xoo (it’s new!), Seaguy is thrust into the high-energy adventure that he so craved; an adventure that reveals that the world is not near as bright a place as it may seem.Above all, Seaguy is a testament to Grant Morrison’s storytelling ability. One of the primary complaints about Morrison’s work is that his writing can become very disjointed, jumping from scene to scene with little transitional material. By all rights, no one would blame you for expecting that from Seaguy, but for a story that goes from a theme park to Atlantis to the moon (with a few stops in between), it reads quite smoothly. Obviously, one needs to get past the whole “what in God’s name am I reading” level of bizarreness before they can begin to appreciate this, but Morrison so immerses the reader in the surreal that eventually things that shouldn’t seem the slightest bit normal are just glossed over by the reader. Despite the extremely other-worldly nature of the setting and the characters, both seem almost as real as our own. The reader becomes as invested in the characters and the world of Seaguy as they would with any “realistic” work of fiction. Indeed, only Grant Morrison could make the death of a cigar-loving fish more tragic than the deaths of many more “human” characters from other stories.
From an artistic perspective, the book gets even better. Cameron Stewart’s art is notable for being incredibly “clean,” going into incredible detail without leaving a single stray line. In this regard he creates an interesting contrast with fellow frequent Morrison contributer, Frank Quitely (both of whom have worked on Morrison’s Batman & Robin), who is known for his extensive line use. Every page of Seaguy is done in painstaking detail, with incredible spreads (such as Seaguy’s discovery of Atlantis) serving as a massive “go to hell” to those who critique Stewart’s art for being too “cartoony.” Peter Doherty also does an excellent job of coloring, keeping the colors bright to match the too-good-to-be-true tone of the story. But when the world’s true nature begins to surface, Doherty allows darkness to seep into the colors, as if the bright coloring has been covering up a dark secret.
Seaguy is the first volume of the Seaguy trilogy that Morrison and Stewart have been working on, and has been collected into a trade paperback. The second volume, Seaguy: The Slaves of Mickey Eye finished its three issue run a few months ago, but has yet to be released in trade format. The jury is still out on when the final volume, tentatively named Seaguy: Eternal, will be released. I encourage you to pick up the first trade, and be prepared to exclaim “Da Fug?!”
