Comics

I guess you can credit (or blame) The Sandman. Set in the ethereal dimension of The Dreaming and starring Morbius the Dreamking, the popular and critical success of The Sandman comic has inspired a host of comics artists to create their own dream-theme comics. In fact, there are so many dream-related comics in the marketplace that I now consider Dream comics to be their own distinctive genre. Some of these titles use dreams and dreaming as a locus for weaving fictional fables. Others spotlight and illustrate real dreams dreamed by real people. In this and my next column, I'm reviewing the best of these dream books.

Roarin' Rick's Rare Bit Fiends - Rick Veitch (King Hell Press, P.O. Box 1371, West Townshend VT 05359; monthly, b&w, $2.95). In 1995, at the twelfth annual conference of the Association for the Study of Dreams, a reporter from Life magazine asked Jeremy Taylor, respected author, dream researcher and then-president of ASD, "What was the single most important thing that happened in dream study in the past year?" Without hesitation, Taylor replied, "The appearance of that new comic book -- you know -- Roarin' Rick's Rare Bit Fiends."

Rick Veitch's thirty-year experience as a comics artist and writer spans the gamut from underground comix (Two-Fisted Zombies), to horror (Swamp Thing) to revisionist superheroes (Bratpack, Maximortal). Paralleling this career, Veitch has had an avid interest in dreamwork. He claims he begins each day by lying in bed after awakening, "trying to corral as much imagery as I can find in the wild, dreaming side of my brain," jotting everything he remembers on a notepad. So it was inevitable that the two interests would eventually coalesce. In 1994, Veitch began incarnating his dreamlife as comics arts. The title of his comic pays homage to Windsor McCay's groundbreaking turn-of-the-century comic, Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend.

Most of the dreams in Rare Bit Fiend occupy a single page. (Veitch views the work as form of visual haiku.) They're illustrated in a straightforward, realistic style. The result is a compelling, ongoing dream diary of the inner life of a successful comics artist. At the time he began Rare Bit Fiend, Veitch had decided to let go of the security of doing mainstream comics and devote himself to the risky business of self-publishing. His anxieties and concerns over this choice permeate his dreams and take intriguing forms (mountain lions, tornadoes, out-of-control cars and machinery). And because Veitch is immersed in a pop art medium, his dreams are punctuated with images and individuals both real and surreal from the comics industry, along with related pop cultures like the movies and rock and roll.

Anyone familiar with Veitch's work and knowledgeable about comics will find his dreams fascinating, a treasure trove of imagery. For us, the book is a delight. But (and this is a big drawback) for people unfamiliar with comics, reading Rare Bit Fiends is more likely to be disorienting and disconcerting. Veitch also lets his dream vignettes run into each other, without indicating when each dream begins and ends, further heightening the sense of disorientation.

Veitch has stated (and I agree), "Comics are the most perfect form of art to recreate the dream experience in another person's head." Perhaps more than any other art form, comics art resembles the structure of dreams and can best depict dream imagery. And because comics art stimulates both sides of the brain simultaneously, it's possible that the experience of reading comics stimulates the dreamstate. However, if it's true that the unexamined life is not worth living, then the unexamined dream is not worth recalling. And it nettles me that Veitch refuses to offer any form of commentary on his dreams, be it personal interpretation or background information. Though I find the book intriguing, I'm left wondering what's the point. Still, for anyone with more than a cursory interest in dreams, Rare Bit Fiends is a must-see comic.

Veitch's dreamscenes from the first eight issues of Rare Bit Fiends have been collected in a trade paperback, Rabid Eye: The Dream Art of Rick Veitch (200 pp, $14.95). Unfortunately, the book leaves out two of the most provocative features from the monthly comic. The letters page, Little Omens, lets readers offer up their own interpretations of what's happening in Veitch's wild psyche. Veitch also graciously allows space in each issue for guest artists to illustrate short vignettes from their own dream experience; hopefully, these will be collected someday.

Concave Up (nonDairy Pub, P.O. Box 200206, New Haven, CT 06520-0206; thrice-yearly, b&w, 32 pp, $2.95). Like Rare Bit Fiends, this is another comic which graphically illustrates dreams. Though it has a lower profile and is published less frequently, in my opinion, Concave Up is more accessible and of more interest to the average reader. Editor and artist Jesse Reklaw (Walker?) also has an abiding dual interest in comics and dreams. But instead of doing a comic that features his own dreams (which he opined would "grow stale after page three"), he decided to solicit dreams from friends and other people via ads, flyers and the Internet.

Unlike Rick Veitch, who is at the mercy of whatever weird imagery his subconscious decides to spew forth at any given time, Reklaw has the freedom to selectively choose dreams and organize them in interesting ways. Consequently, the dreams illustrated in Concave Up have a defined beginning and end, and the majority have a strong sense of story. Many of these dream narratives gave me an emotional tingle, a sense of "there's something significant happening here," the way you feel after remembering a particularly vivid dream. In some cases, I'm compelled to re-read the story immediately, on a hunt for clues to its meaning.

Though only four issues have been published to date, Concave Up is shaping up to be a significant comic with the potential to influence not just the comics industry but also the discipline of dream research and the art of dreamwork. I like it that Reklaw credits and dates each person's dream and offers brief bios of the dreamers. He occasionally includes known dreams of famous people. The first issue had Freud's dream about "Irma's Injection," which revealed to him the secret nature of dreams. Issue #3 spotlighted eight reoccurring dreams of Luis Bunuel, the notorious surrealistic filmmaker, and #4 included dream vignettes experienced by Pamela (Baywatch babe) Anderson and Carl Jung. This issue also includes brief interpretations of each illustrated dream, solicited through the e-mail journal Electric Dreams. This is a practice I'd like to see continued, especially if multiple interpretations are included, which could offer fascinating insight into how different people view dreams.

Reklaw is also allowing his comic to organically evolve. With #3, he began organizing each issue around specific themes. That issue explored "Dreams and Creative Inspiration." The most recent issue, #4, focused on "The Meaning of Dreams," and the provocative theme for the next issue is "Dreaming of the Devil." (I wonder if this (good) idea of theme issues will subconsciously influence what readers dream about. Now there's a subject for research.)

To assist people in their own dreamwork, Reklaw includes book recommendations and mentions other useful resources. He also includes examples of his dream comic strip, Slow Wave, which is available on the World Wide Web and in a handful of alternative newspapers. (He's looking for more outlets; contact him if you have a lead). Perhaps most significantly, Reklaw maintains a website which features sketches, painting, correspondence, original dream-themed articles, contests and more. He's actively soliciting for dreams, and if he uses yours, he'll give you a free year's subscription to his comic. Plus, if you send him a photo or personal description, he'll use your likeness in the strip. So surf on over to www.nonDairy.com/concave/up.cgi -- and tell 'im The Monthly Aspectarian sent you. And that I highly recommended this comic.

More dream comics next issue.

Ahoy, all comics publishers, large and small: If you have a book you think is right for this column, send me a copy for potential review. All books are considered though I make no promises. Send to Maurice Harter/CNA, P.O. Box 8360, Portland, Maine 04104-8360.

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