Saga, Volume One

written by Brian K. Vaughan
art by Fiona Staples

From its first page, Saga juxtaposes the disembodied, philosophical—yet extremely personal—narration of its youngest character with the much more bodily and mundane circumstances of her birth and preservation.  What makes it so mesmerizing is that it brings out the beauty of both.  It capitalizes on the grandeur of its cosmic setting and its epic science-fantasy predecessors even as it undermines them for more familiar, commonplace conflict.  In a genre littered with destined saviors and heroes and the most unlikely deliverances from certain destruction, Saga is the story of a family stuck in the political, militaristic, and cultural center of a generations-long shitstorm.

On its large scale, as much as anything, Saga is about war, colonization, economic and cultural exploitation, and unbridled nationalism, corruption and privilege, told from the perspective of a family that gets caught in the crosshairs.  It's also a compelling love story.  Marko and Alana are as fiery, flawed and as well-suited for one another as any couple in recent memory.

Saga arrives almost fully formed.  Its opening chapters catch fleeting glimpses of a world and a cast of secondary characters as round and detailed as any.  The credibility of Marko and Alana as a couple anchors the story, but the menagerie of soldiers, hit-men, high-end sex workers, child phantoms, and family back home is the real strength of Vaughan's world-building.  Each character could easily be the protagonist of his or her own series, and most are given moments that capitalize on that potential.  The Will's brief and memorable stay on Sextillion, for instance, betrays his promise as an anti-hero of the Saga universe, a killer (and a cold-hearted one, at that) who nevertheless has a soft spot for children, a disinclination for exploitation, and unexpected broken heart from his break-up from The Stalk.  Prince Robot IV—blueblood, television-head, and commander of one of Landfall's many mercenary armies—could easily be the protagonist of his own tragedy.  A man troubled by his war experience, unable to conceive an heir with his wife under extraordinary pressure to do so, and coerced into pursuing the runaway couple to some of the less desirable ends of the universe.

Despite its sweeping, epic tone, Saga's not above some casual humor and stealthy jokes, e.g., the "grease monkey" Marko paid off for use of the garage actually being a monkey.  Several characters too, Alana and Izabel in particular, are quick-witted and clever and provide fine tonal foils for the series' more sincere voices, like Marko, quick to point out absurdities and ironies.  And, of course, Alana’s insistence that they go to Quietus to meet the “smartest person in the universe” is quite funny, since that man would be D. Oswald Heist, author of pulp romance novel A Night Time Smoke. But, I suspect, in the world of Saga, she might also be right.

Fiona Staples' contribution to the series as its artist cannot be overstated.  She has crafted some of comics' most beautiful heroes.  Marko and Alana both have the fineness of features and sculped physiques of Greek statues.  Her mellifluent style is made all the more beautiful for her unwillingness to shy away from the unsavory and grotesque.  It is, for example, a testament to her skill and suitability to Saga that she makes the arachnoid contract killer The Stalk a believable lover for scruffy, handsome fellow killer The Will.  She also excels in Saga's expansive spacescapes, complementing the scope of vision and tone that Vaughan has cultivated.  

Collects Saga #1-6

ISBN: 978-1607066019