Roving Wilde
Cerebus: Melmoth
Issues 139-150
October 1990 - September 1991
248 pages
The main surprise in Cerebus:
Book 6 is that Cerebus does surprisingly little.
Such inaction, although violently ended at the end of the
book, however fits with another odd twist of the book, it conveys the final
days of Oscar Wilde.
Melmoth, the
pseudonym Wilde adopted, Sebastian Melmoth, after his release from prison,
works a strange magic. It mixes fact and fiction (perhaps continuing the dichotomies
in Jaka’s Story) resulting in the
literary urge to read not more Cerebus books,
but works of Oscar Wilde.
This sending of readers to anther’s works is a powerful
effect. An impetus of writing (or reading) reviews hopes to influence potential
readers to works the reader/writer found valuable with a hope that new readers
will discover the reads as captivating as the one who suggested the text. Reminding
a potential audience of the greatness of a work that otherwise might remain
hidden makes reviewers slightly less obnoxious. Revitalizing interest and
highlighting a work’s relation to the present gains reviewers, if not dinner
invitations, at least a grudging appreciation. The critical writings of Randall Jarrell taught
appreciation of Robert Frost, the writings of Anne Carson made enlivened Sappho,
Helen Vendler continues trying to show me the marvels of Wallace Stevens, and Keith Silva always alerts
readers to the intricacies lurking in the panels of comics that enhance the
reading experience of any (well, most) comic book.
So, this extended introduction thanks Dave Sim and Gerhard for
telling the days leading up to the death of Oscar Wilde, and reawakening a
desire to re-read some reads of Oscar Wilde.
(The Picture of Dorian
Gray, The Importance of Being Earnest,
Lady Windermere’s Fan, and Wilde’s “Phrases
and Philosophies for the Use of the Young” serve as fine beginning marks for
delving into Oscar Wilde’s writings). A work that leads readers to other works,
provide, if not the best, at least an honorable homage for the original work.
I continually wracked my brains trying to find connection
between the Cerebus storyline and the death of Oscar Wilde. And while part of
me (a very large portion) suspects no link need exist (and
that Melmoth stands superior for the
Wilde storyline plopped in the midst of
a sword and sorcery comic book about an aardvark), something seems to be
transpiring with this juxtaposition of fiction and fact. The slow decay of
Wilde hearkens to Cerebus-the-immobile in this collection of a dozen issues.
Having learned his death culminates in the earth-pig being alone, unmourned,
and unloved, and losing Jaka, it’s not really surprising to see the titular
character paralyzed by nihilism (or so it seems). Yet, the same element that
keeps Oscar’s final days from an utter bleakness worthy of Dickens is the same
factor that finally jars Cerebus from inaction—concern and love for another
(Oscar’s friends for him, and Cerebus’s love for Jaka). No matter what, if
anything, may be in store after death, love at least casts some comfort (albeit
cold, but better cold comfort than none at all) and arousal to action and
protection for others and conveys some faith in life rather than in death.
Sim’s and Gerhard’s
artwork continues in its quality execution. More aspects of the tale (the poor services
of the wait staff at the restaurant where Cerebus perches statuesque, the
inflated assessment of gold, the
waitress resembling Jaka, the bloody mess Cerebus makes of the Cirinsts with
his sword after he overhears that one of them tore out a chunk of Jaka’s hair,
etc.) remain potential threads for a more thorough and extended study of the
work…but not for this review.
Dear readers, forget about further analytic speculations regarding
Melmoth, and instead borrow, beg or
steal a copy of Oscar Wilde’s work and begin reading to bring forth the laughs
and revisit or discover the remains of his witty and tragic comedic toils.
