I know that I haven't spent much time on Frazer Irving's art, or not as much time as I've spent on Morrison's story. I mean, they're intrinsically linked, right? That's what we have to, have to, recognize about comics. So, let me just say that Olympia, Max Nomax's undead gynoid (or "Womanoid") is one of the loveliest women I've ever seen in comics. There's something timelessly beautiful and achingly vulnerable about the character. And, yes, *sigh*, that is coming from my completely subjective point of view, and not making any objective claims about the nature of beauty, nor is it intended to intimate that anyone not resembling this piece of art is not beautiful.
I feel, sometimes, like I need a disclaimer on my writing that says "Any opinions I express don't automatically mean that that is the only way I feel. It is simply one facet of my perception of the universe."
I'm still struggling to understand exactly what won out in this comic. I'd say it was love, except I'm not sure that it was. Obsession, maybe? Hope? Yeah, maybe that. Hope that in a world that seems like it is constantly falling into a supermassive black hole, we might still create meaning under the crushing pressure of oblivion.
Oof. Heavy stuff (*wink*). Onward.
(P.S. I really hope there is a sequel to this series, as is sort of teased. Max Nomax is the villain you love to hate)
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