I’d already planned on reviewing The Twilight Children this week since the collected volume is now in stores, but the review has turned into a eulogy too: the illustrator Darwyn Cooke passed away this past Saturday of lung cancer at the age of 53.
Anything I say about it now is going to seem a little maudlin, but since this book was a project he’d wanted to do for years, I thought I ought to say something.
(You’ll have to take my word for the fact that this review was going to be a good one even before I learned of his death. But if you read the book I think you’ll believe me.)
To start with the story by Gilbert Hernandez (creator of Love and Rockets,) I’ve heard the phrase “magical realism” used a lot when referring to this book, and I think that’s fair. The people in this little Latin American town have seen a glowing orb show up at the beach several times before the story starts, and now they take it for granted. It’s something to keep the kids away from, but otherwise it’s a part of everyday life.
The only people who are really interested in it is the scientist who comes from far away to study it, and the government agents who “sneak” into town.
The agents are some of my favorite characters. With their too-big grins and too-bright hawaiian shirts, absolutely no one believes they’re tourists, but they refuse to give up the disguise. They seem inept and goofy, right up to the point where they become dangerous.
The character Tito was fun too: she seems like a sympathetic character when we first meet her, she’s cheating on her husband but hey, she’s fallen in love, she couldn’t help herself right?
Later on you find out how cheerfully amoral she is.
Just as a heads up, it’s not a book for kids: we get fist fights and post-sex nudity and at one point someone’s hands get blasted off. None of it is gratuitous or lingered on, but just so we’re all on the same page, this one’s for the grown-ups.
The story was never predictable, and never meant to be straightforward. Hernandez said in an interview that he wanted to leave things open to interpretation. We’re never told why some things happen, but we’re given enough pieces that we can have fun speculating: was the husband ever really in love, or just trying to escape? Are people snatched up accidentally, or is it a hostage situation? Were the children struck blind as a punishment, or a reward?
Part of the result of this kind of open-ended storytelling is that it left Darwyn Cooke room to visualize the story his own way. Hernandez didn’t insist on a strict interpretation of the characters, and was as delighted as anybody with the result.
The art in the book is equal parts fun, etherial, silly, sinister, and otherworldly. One of my favorite parts is on the beach when several of the missing people appear suddenly, totally naked and shocked, only to disappear with a bang a few seconds later, for no reason at all.
Cooke’s work is easily recognizable and always fun to look at. (The stunning colors by Dave Stewart don’t hurt either.) It’s strongly reminiscent of Bruce Timm’s work, which isn’t a coincidence, since Cooke was hired by Timm to work on Batman: The Animated Series in the 1990s (and when Cooke co-wrote and provided art direction for the animated movie DC: The New Frontier, Bruce Timm was the producer.)
His art has a lovely retro cartoon feel while still keeping a modern sense of design. It’s clean and bright and dynamic, full of expression and movement. I’m hardly saying anything new though. He won an Eisner and several Joe Shuster Awards for his work both as an artist and a writer, and probably would have won a lot more if he’d had the chance.
Excuse my language, but fuck cancer anyway.
Don’t take a look at the just book because Cooke passed away though. That seems unfair to the work he and Hernandez poured into it. Try to put that out of your mind for a second when you pick it up and flip through it. I think you’ll like it all on its own.