Saga is a comic that came to the forefront of my attention out of a combination of pedigree and concept. When someone writes one of the best pieces of contemporary literature in recent memory as Brian K. Vaughan did with Y: The Last Man, it is required that attention be paid to whatever project said person turns to next. If that project happens to be a science fiction opus on the scale of Star Wars illustrated by the excellent Fiona Staples, that merely sweetens the pot.
Fully aware of the dangers of expectations, I plunged head first into Saga #1.
Intending Saga to be an ongoing series, Vaughan immediately establishes a universe that could easily be indefinitely mined for narrative gold. The story picks up where Romeo and Juliet left off, only if they hadn't killed themselves in an act which I'm pretty sure they both regret. Alana and Marko have managed to fall madly in love and sire a child (the birthing of which opens the story), despite belonging to opposite sides of a war that no one seems to understand the cause of, between the galaxy's largest planet, Landfall, and it's only moon, Wreath.
In crafting the two sides of the conflict, Vaughan perhaps takes the oversimplification of the term sci-fi/fantasy to heart, with the horned humanoids of Wreath that Marko calls his people favoring swords and magic, and filling out the fantasy quotient, while Alana's winged, blaster-wielding Landfallians mark an X in the box for "sci-fi." Despite it's obvious fantastical infusions, you still have warring planets and galaxy hopping exploits to fill that space opera void in your life.
Filling in the cracks in the sweeping scale of the setting are hints at social underpinnings that serve as parables to present day. Alana and Marko argue over wing-bleeding their child, an act that Marko hints is akin to female circumcision, and the two freelancers hunting them seem to be vessels for a message about the futility of violence. Other nice touches include Marko offering Alana a " healing spell" to ease the pain of childbirth, despite her reluctance and, well... let's just say to keep an eye on the Lying Cat. I feel like that's a meme in the making.
The volume of world-building that happens in chapter one is pretty remarkable, and the fact that it simultaneously establishes an entire cast of characters that are already more well-rounded than anyone in Star Wars since Lando Calrissian showcases Vaughan's abilities as a writer, and allows one to overlook the occasional ham-fisted line of background-building dialogue like, "But... I've already served my time! I just survived one of the worst sneak attacks in military history!"
As it is clearly there to set up the snappy rebuttle, "And yet, surviving isn't exactly winning," the line might be forgivable were it not being delivered by a robot with a TV for a head named Prince Robot IV. (No joke.) Therein lies Saga's biggest letdown: One of the chief races in the story are synthetic humans with a TVs for heads that dress like 18th century French royalty.
They look like something that might have abducted Bill Waterson's Calvin, preventing him from doing his homework. Their design really is distractingly bad, and they don't do the rest of Staples' otherwise superb character artwork justice. While she may get the blame for this, I'm guessing Vaughan wrote them that way, so that's his bad.
Also his bad is making two of the Robots have sex doggystyle, before being interrupted by their alligator butler.
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| I wish I was kidding, yo. |
Robo-copulation aside, Saga is a great read that, while not immediately as genius as Y: The Last Man (which had to have one of the greatest opening issues in the history of comics), mirrors another legendary science fiction saga's first installment's promise of a new hope.
8.5/10
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