Sound like a lot? Yes, there's a lot going on with this series. Vaughan starts with a familiar high concept and builds something expansive and unique. His writing-- sharp, funny, and engaging-- makes the characters live. Staples, who does pencils, inks, colors, and layouts for every panel of every page (and even hand-letters Hazel's narration: I don't pay much attention to lettering but hers stands out, impressively), makes the world breathe. Staples lovingly draws a fully-imagined world, with myriad planets and environments. More impressively, though, she communicates masterfully with facial expressions. Marko shifts from a loving, war-forsaking father to a sleep-deprived warrior protecting his family, and then back to a man who can't believe he nearly succumbed to his violent tendencies. Alana shows sass, frustration, seductiveness, and toughness. Even Prince Robot IV emotes with body language. But then, after Staples hits all the little notes right, she drops a stunning two-page spread of giant tortoise-like war machines r battling under a destroyed bridge. I don't have words for how good the art is. Go look at the pictures. They're better than I am. For all of its whacky sci-fi/fantasy elements, for all the bizarre images (there's a brothel-planet called Sextillion with some pretty startling images: yes, this book is for mature readers), this remains a very human narrative. For all his mysteriousness, The Will is a man hurt by a lover, one who lies to himself to try to mask his pain, only to be outed by his own Lying Cat. Underneath Prince Robot IV's put-on toughness, he's a man who's sick of a war that means nothing to him. Despite their horns and wings, Alana and Marko are two regular people trying to raise a child in a world full of hate and violence and greed and malice. They bicker about names, child rearing decisions, and disclosure of facts regarding a past lover. They fight desperately to protect each other, and even in the chaos, they find brief bits of joy-- in life, like in art, we find beauty in the little things. See, Saga feels epic, but the little details like make it stand out. You can tell Vaughan draws from personal experiences, giving his story verisimilitude. The best genre fiction deals with real issues and real people under the guise of escapism, and Saga feels contemporary and relevant. Two exceptional creators have turned a good concept into something breathing and breathtaking, and if you're not already on board, now is the time to catch up, before Chapter Seven drops next week.
