When Richard Corben embarks on a two-issue adaptation of a Poe story, you know it’s at least going to be interesting, and at most going to be fascinating. Things tend pretty far to the latter direction in this innovative first chapter.
Written and Illustrated by Richard Corben
A sickness resides in the house of Usher. Its history is cursed, its tenants plagued by abominable love, and its hallways lined with coffins and the rotted dead.
Things are about to get worse.
An incestuous nightmare brought to you by horror legend Richard Corben.
“The Fall of the House of Usher” is probably Poe’s most enduring tale (give or take a tell-tale heart or two), and it’s been adapted ad infinitum – even by Corben himself. But Corben adds an extra dimension to this retelling of an already pretty complex story by incorporating elements from another Poe tale, “The Oval Portrait”. The result is much less subtle in terms of implications of incest than “The Fall of the House of Usher” itself, and takes a much closer look at Roderick as an artist, however disturbed.
Your basic elements are still there: a friend (in this case named Allan) comes to visit the crumbling Usher mansion, where a deep-seated corruption seems to be taking over the two siblings living there. Roderick suffers from hypochondria and overly acute senses; his sister Madeline is prone to catalepsy, and seems doomed to an untimely end. But Corben’s inclusion of elements from “The Oval Portait” somewhat condenses the storyline: we have a definite sequence of events that structure the story, as Roderick works on a portrait of Madeline. The general feeling of unease imparted by the crumbling mansion becomes more atmospheric than directly pertinent to the events of the story, and this suits the short format well.
The only choice that feels unnecessary is the inclusion of a storyteller figure who delivers the narration that we would normally get in caption boxes. He doesn’t necessarily detract from the adaptation, particularly since he may actually have an intriguing connection to the story itself, but as we return to him over the course of the issue the transitions are somewhat jarring.
Artwise, this issue is endlessly fascinating. As Corben explains in the end notes, he drew the figures from clay maquettes, and you can really see it. In the best possible way, that plasticine sensibility makes its way onto the page, lending the figures a realism in terms of texture and consistency from panel to panel, if not drop-dead anatomical realism – and who needs that when the exaggerated figures involved are so distinctively Corben? It all culminates in a nicely ironic moment when Allan calls the portrait of Madeline “incredibly lifelike”. Actually, the portrait is textured so that it looks even more lifelike than the Madeline of the rest of the story; and in the world of comics, of course, something so uncanny is perfectly possible.
Speaking of textures, Corben’s colours are especially remarkable for the subtle ways in which they build on the textures of his linework. The tree bark in the first couple pages is so damn mumply that you just want to run your hands along it, while the decaying walls and masonry that are so important to the original tale are appreciably crumbly. What’s more, Corben’s palette is diverse, incorporating all kinds of little touches of brightness when a Poe tale can usually get away with keeping to the greys and browns. In that respect, this adaptation is reminiscent of Roger Corman’s take on the story, and it’s an aspect which adds to the horror by underscoring Roderick’s finely attuned aesthetic sense.
Meanwhile, Nate Piekos’ letters are clean as well as delicately macabre, and fit in beautifully with Corben’s simple compositions. The result is an elegant comic that reads smoothly, holding up well to multiple rereadings.
All told, this is an absorbing and inventive issue, and about as fresh a take on (the first half of) a Poe story as you could possibly ask for. And while I think we all know where this tale is going, the second issue is bound to add even more surprising nuances to this horror classic.
Final Verdict: 9.0 – Buy
