What Goes On Behind Closed Eyes

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There aren't many artistic conventions that work as well, or as easily, as the depiction of dreams in comics. Only photography, which efficiently and accurately captures the exterior world, compares with comics' ability to capture the interior world of our unconscious. Dream comics have become an entire subgenre of the art form, and it's easy to see why. Mere words could never capture the phantasmagoria of our dreamscape.

Unfortunately, reading dream comics can be about as interesting as seeing somebody's holiday snaps. The ones that work well are those that combine the imagery and freedom of dreamspace with the directed narrative of literature. One prime example: "The Extended Dream of Mr. D," by the Spanish artist known simply as Max.

Published by Drawn and Quarterly and translated by David Griffiths, "Mr. D" first appeared as a three-issue miniseries, and has now been collected into a paperback. A short preface sets up the work as the recounted dream of Christopher D., a man we never meet outside the dream, but who is described as a "deeply dissatisfied," married shopkeeper of 40. One night while he slept, "everything that was boiling below the surface of his mind erupted into his dreams..." So already we've moved beyond the usual dream comic. Here we have a dream with a purpose, a move away from mere reportage into art.

Recounting the plot of "Mr. D" would be uninstructive. Like real dreams, the narrative develops out of a sequence of symbolic events. In broadest terms, Mr. D. finds himself pursuing and pursued by a hussar-like character named Scallywaggs. On the journey D encounters Su, a man with "Asian features" who collects stories, and Sarah, the woman to whom D literally gives his heart.

Many of the dream motifs contained in "Mr. D" will seem familiar: being frozen, losing one's voice, being naked, drowning, falling and being chased. These are augmented with details that are relevant only to Mr. D's life but are still captivating in themselves: a mountaintop tiger who flies kites, a dead Mighty Mouse, and a landscape of butane bottles. Scenes merge and flow into each other as seamlessly as real dreams. Mr. D falls through space, which becomes the ocean, until he emerges into a hotel lobby, which becomes a train car. Strangely, at the critical conclusion, Max falters, forcing the characters to mouth didactic explanations about their metaphorical roles. It's a bump, but not ruinous to the ride.

Max creates his black-and-white images with scratchboard, literally carving out the surface to reveal the color underneath. Besides being a nice metaphor for a dream comic, it gives the lines a rough, lithographic look. Max also likes to mix it up, at one point switching to a smoother, cartoony brush style when D finds himself dreaming within the extended dream. He also plays with layouts, altering the size and shape of the panels enough to keep things interesting but always readable.

Comics and dreams form a perfect marriage of form and function. With "The Extended Dream of Mr. D," Max has given us one of the top examples of both.

"The Extended Dream of Mr. D" can be found at superior comic book stores and at the publisher's web site: www.drawnandquarterly.com