With the announcement of a new “Sandman Universe” imprint, being cultivated and overseen by Neil Gaiman, coming in August, I felt it necessary to embark on a reread of of “The Sandman” before the imprint arrives. First up is volume one, issues #1-#8 of Gaiman’s now classic series titled, in trade paperback “Preludes & Nocturnes.” The title comes from musical terms, prelude, for the opening act of an opera, nocturne, a musical composition inspired by night. Gaiman’s performance begins here, but 30 years later does it still hold up?
Written by Neil Gaiman
Penciled by Sam Kieth (#1-5) and Mike Dringenberg (#6-8)
Inked by Mike Dringenberg (#1-4) and Malcolm Jones III (#5-8)
Colored by Daniel Vozzo
Lettered by Todd Klein
Covers by Dave McKean
NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author Neil Gaiman’s transcendent series SANDMAN is often hailed as the definitive Vertigo title and one of the finest achievements in graphic storytelling. Gaiman created an unforgettable tale of the forces that exist beyond life and death by weaving ancient mythology, folklore and fairy tales with his own distinct narrative vision. In PRELUDES & NOCTURNES, an occultist attempting to capture Death to bargain for eternal life traps her younger brother Dream instead. After his seventy-year imprisonment and eventual escape, Dream, also known as Morpheus, goes on a quest for his lost objects of power. On his arduous journey Morpheus encounters Lucifer, John Constantine, and an all-powerful madman. This book also includes the story “The Sound of Her Wings,” which introduces us to the pragmatic and perky goth girl Death. Collecting issues #1-8
The first thing I realized about these first eight issues is that there is A LOT that goes on here. Every issue shifts tonally, mythologically, and narratively. It is almost as if this first “arc,” if it is appropriate to call it that, is a set of eight different one-shots. You begin to see all of Gaiman’s influences from the numerous mythologies to philosophies to literature and, more importantly, to the DCU. I had never caught Doctor Destiny’s naming of the ruby as the Materioptikon as a reference to Michele Foucault’s use of the panopticon in Discipline and Punish until this read. It goes to show how multiple rereads, reading at different points in life really influences what we find relevant, and how the symbolism can grow.
Dream finds all three of his tools by the end of issue #7, and then #8 gives us the first appearance of the enigmatic Death. If this were 2018, the series would’ve been relaunched after #7 or #8 and whatever would have come afterward would be an entirely different series. It’s just that different from what comes after. Gaiman himself acknowledges that in an essay in the back of the volume where he calls the early stories “awkward,” “ungainly,” and “clumsy,” but contain things he is still proud of. In the same essay he says the last issue of the volume is where his voice truly begins, and I would concur. That’s not to say by any means that what is contained in this volume is awful, it is exactly what it claims to be. It’s a prelude of better things to come.
The first issue shows Dream captured, silent, biding his time for 70 years until his captor dies and his successor screws up his captivity. The second follows his return to the Dreaming and has him interactions with a plethora of older DC horror characters like Cain and Abel, and the Houses of Mystery and Secrets. Between the two there is so much world building. Gaiman throws out, compares and clashes so many ancient mythologies and pantheons before taking that conglomeration and mashing it together with the DC Universe. I use words like “mash” and “clash” because, while stylistically beautiful, there is so much about this series that is captivatingly and purposely grotesque. From there Dream gets his sand back with Constantine, goes to Hell and meets with David Bow…I mean Lucifer, and visits the Justice League International and obtains the help of Mister Miracle and Martian Manhunter before taking on Doctor Destiny. All of these various encounters are tonally and stylistically different but in a way that feels authentic to the characters that Dream encounters. It is amazing how little of this first volume is about Dream and more about the people who dream, about the DCU characters, but also just about regular human beings. It really isn’t until Dream and Death meet up that we begin to have a greater grasp of who Morpheus truly is.
Continued belowNone of the moments described above though work without the artistic talent on this book. Sam Kieth, Mike Dringenberg, and Malcolm Jones III begin the murderer’s row of artists that work on this book. There are times, especially in the first issue, but also in the first few, where Gaiman is overly wordy and some of Dream’s actions are over-narrated. It makes sense as he is adjusting from writing short stories and novels to comics, but the art is beautiful and sells the emotions of the characters in either awe or admiration of Dream. I found myself not needing Gaiman’s narrations because the art just does all the heavy lifting. This becomes less of a problem toward the end of the volume. There are finally some silent panels for the first time in some of the later issues as the creative team sinks in to the story. Many of the panel layouts in this book are experimental and creative, phrenetic and not all square or boxed in. Kieth adds fun details in his panel divisions, which help to sell the mystical qualities of the first few issues. Kieth’s pencils, with Dringenberg’s inks, seem more like what you would find in cape comics of the period, and while experimental, are still relatively clean. When Dringenberg becomes the main artist in #6 with Jones’ inks the game changes. The last few issues, telling the story of Doctor Destiny and Dream’s battle, are extremely psychedelic. Their art is not at all cleaned up, it’s muddy and abstract packed in with so much symbolism, but sparse when necessary, using more white pages than Kieth. Issue #7 is like walking through the modern art wing of a museum, while #8 uses whites to portray a sense of Dream and Death occupying some kind of primordial plane of existence. Kieth’s art is very Gothic and clean, Dringenberg’s is new and modern. Both work for the disparate tones of the issues in this volume.
The way that Gaiman marries the DC Universe with this creative mythology that begins here is also particularly interesting. I forget sometimes in reading later issues of the series how connected to the DCU “The Sandman” is, but here the DCU characters are at the forefront. Issue #3 feels like a Constantine story, while issue #5 has an artistically, Kirby-inspired sequence of Scot Free’s nightmare. Hell Martian Manhunter mistakes Dream for a Martian god, and then takes Mister Miracle to eat Oreos. We don’t get this as much later, but it is clear in these issues how well Gaiman knows the DC characters and what’s this to fit and graft over what already exists.
One of my favorite moments in the entire series happens in issue #4. Dream and Choronizon’s battle fighting with concepts, Dream using hope to beat anti-life, and all the demons being dumbfounded is priceless, and indicative of what’s to come. “The Sandman” is enigmatic and, rightfully so, one of the most influential comic series of all time. While this prelude is by no means perfect, it shows hints of the masterpiece Gaiman and co create going forward. This is truly a prelude, but the possibilities going forward, like dreams, are endless.
