Ah， Rick Remender。 His big hits tend to be stuff like Deadly Class and Black Science which leaves me altogether cold， and a lot of the rest of it is along the lines of Scumbag and Tokyo Ghost， where there are components I love bolted on to absolute nonsense。 But every so often he pulls off something like his Uncanny X-Force （so long as you ignore the Otherworld bit）， or Low， or this。 Stuff which， despite very occasional garnishes of humour， operates at a level of operatic bleakness I ought not t Ah， Rick Remender。 His big hits tend to be stuff like Deadly Class and Black Science which leaves me altogether cold， and a lot of the rest of it is along the lines of Scumbag and Tokyo Ghost， where there are components I love bolted on to absolute nonsense。 But every so often he pulls off something like his Uncanny X-Force （so long as you ignore the Otherworld bit）， or Low， or this。 Stuff which， despite very occasional garnishes of humour， operates at a level of operatic bleakness I ought not to go for， should find as tiresome as I do Daniel Warren Johnson's extended mopes – but which instead I find myself gripped by。 The artists help， of course， especially contrasted with that grubby， doughy look in Johnson: here it's Jerome Opeña adding something unhealthy to the classic fantasy chassis， like Clark Ashton Smith got very slightly into steampunk before being asked to do a Tolkien riff。 But as with the baroque far future SF of Low， the question underlying it is unabashedly topical。 Low asked， when all hope seems lost， is optimism foolishness or the only way change can happen？ And then kept asking it in progressively more gruesome and overwrought fashion for 26 issues。 Similarly， the issue here is compromise。 Is it common sense to make the best accommodation you can with the way things are， or does it taint you forever once you're part of a dirty system？ Are the people who refuse really more into stubborn pride than wanting to improve things？ Does anyone ever realise they've become a villain？ These are eternal questions， but the expression of them nevertheless seems quite direct， centred as the story is on the God of Whispers， merely hearing whose offer makes one suspect， and who even when the heroes manage to break his power， has much of the land keen to reinstate him， whether to maintain their own power derived from him， or simply because they can't let go of the story they've told themselves about how the world is。 Hell， the bastard even has a seemingly unending stream of children who keep coming out of the woodwork， so really， the only thing that could make the metaphor clearer is if he also had a fucking stupid haircut and his speeches were considerably less coherent。 But no， he always knows just what to say to dig， dig， dig at the bonds between his captors。 And indeed， most of the characters spend most of the time operating at a pitch of seriousness which ought to become ridiculous， delivering with a straight face lines like "How does one hide a whisper？ Within a scream"， or "Not all resources go to the Well， neighbor。 Mine is the horror of eternal rage – and hers is the succulent。" You know when people object that modern geek culture is too pervaded by a certain brand of snarky dialogue？ If you don't like that， Seven To Eternity is the antidote， but you really wouldn't want too much pop culture conducted like this either， it's worse than UK cop shows which think they'll be HBO if it's rainy and everyone frowns。 And yet here， in this particular world and story， it comes off。 Partly because it's done with such conviction and – unlike Johnson， who seems to have become this review's designated whipping boy – energy。 But also， counterintuitively， because of those tiny hints that the creators are not in fact entirely humourless。 There's someone whose special power is firing eels from a bow， for heavens' sake。 There's a mercenary who changes sides whenever his sword tells him a new client is a better bet， and excuses all his actions with the simple "I got a frog to feed。" A frog which simply yawps "Gold！" This is not subtle， but it knows it's not， and gets away with it。 Don't get me wrong， it's still tough going， a grim odyssey through the entirely fucked psychology of the human race （and various other fantasy species who， for these purposes， all seem basically the same as us， poor bastards）。 To some extent I'm reminded of Geoff Johns， what with the insistent lament that people ought to be nicer expressed chiefly through having characters betrayed， maimed and destroyed， though at least Remender was relatively quick to make his own worlds in which to work that out， rather than spending decades wrecking what used to be one of the great shared universes in the course of dealing with his own issues。 And yes， I probably would have found it less of a slog as four separate collections rather than this omnibus。 But the nature of Edelweiss freebies is such that one doesn't necessarily get to make these choices， so here we are， and on balance I think I'm glad I made this journey， even if it's not like my misanthropy exactly needed the booster。 。。。more