We all have different ways of internalizing stories while reading. I'm a visual reader/imaginer. Not only do descriptions and exposition put images into my head, but the author's style defines the backdrop and frames—the visual mood of the piece. Gaze Long into the Abyss by Dalan Musson (2023) was for me a graphic novel with a black and white simplicity to the panels.
Gaze Long into the Abyss tells of the cross-country journey taken by an old man and boy to challenge a mysterious evil. Set in an apocalyptic setting swathed in darkness, the two's foot quest has eyes in the shadows, strange noises, and an air of cosmic evil hanging over it. Their interaction full of contention, the pair attempt to come to terms with one another and their histories as they walk. It all leads to a black place where nothing is certain.
Given the roots of Gaze Long into the Abyss (man and boy travel through apocalyptic wasteland in sparse prose), there will naturally be comparisons to Cormac McCarthy's The Road. This is only partially fair. Where indeed the setups are similar, their aims and intentions are different. McCarthy's book seems focused on the importance of fatherhood and the role of the father figure to society. Musson's book, while less clear in its aims, feels more in dialogue with Christianity, belief, and the apocalypse. Ironically, McCarthy's Blood Meridian might be the better point to reflect from. Which leads to:
Gaze Long into the Abyss is a novel that never reveals its hand. Redolent with symbols, it never coheres into a formula with an =, however. Darkness, crosses, biblical seals and prophecies, unnamed main characters (old man and boy), archetypal environmental features, and eerie, unexplained sounds offstage—those are the variables recurring. Symbolism is all well and good, but the challenge with the novel is that there is little substance beyond to give readers something to truly sink their teeth into. Certainly the old man and boy go through human motions and Musson injects the idiosyncrasies of Southern speech into dialogue, but the pair's meeting, journey, and the culmination of their journey have minimal footholds beyond the symbolism. By comparison, for example, Neil Gaiman's Sandman stories are likewise loaded with symbols and signs. But Gaiman pins these to scenes and moments that give readers a sense of relevancy. For the Gaze Long into the Abyss, relevancy is limited to ideas vaguely Christian and apocalyptic in nature. It's highly abstract. On the flip side, this leaves ample room for speculation on the nature of the religious/apocalyptic content. Is it a confirmation? A casting off? An exploration? A critique? Only the reader can decide.
Gaze Long into the Abyss is the third “western” bit of fantastika I've read published in 2023. It is the weakest, but not weak. Musson relays a stark sequence of imagery that etches itself in black and white, and has a solid handle on colloquial southern dialogue/authorial voice (the two often conflate). At times, however, it is too glib for its own good; there is not enough information to form a fully coherent conception of the story. For readers who enjoy rumination on and interpretation of a book's symbols and metaphors, this is for them. For people looking for a bit more realia to link plot and theme, it may not be.
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