Creative Staff:
Story: Jeff Lemire
Art: Jeff Lemire
What they say:
Two (literally) star crossed lovers, Nika in the year 3797 and William in the year 1921, each make a miraculous discovery that will permanently change their worlds and connect their lives forever.
Content: (please note that content portions of a review may contain spoilers):
Creator Jeff Lemire is a man with definite priorities. Character and theme comes first, plot second. And I don’t mean that in a bad way.
I’ve been a fan of Lemire’s since the beginning of his career with his breakout book Essex County and through his mostly phenomenal run on DC’s New 52 Animal Man. His concepts can be pretty out there, but his characters are generally very well defined and down to Earth. Trillium follows that platitude to a tee, and in many ways even more so.
The story begins on the planet Atabithi, (bear with me, some high concept and complex plot incoming,) with xenobiologist Nika in the year 3797, searching for the rare flower Trillium, thought to be able to save the last of the human race from an (apparently) evil sentient virus known as “The Caul.” The plant is guarded by the native Atabitihians, who also watch over an ancient and mysterious temple.
Still with me? Pay attention, as things get mixed up quickly. And I mean that literally.
On the other side of the narrative, back on Earth in the year 1921, we have William, a shell-shocked survivor of “The Great War,” searching in the heart of the Amazonian jungle for his own mysterious temple. Eventually Nika steps through the portal back on Atabithia to find herself transported through time and space to William’s temple on Earth.
Whew. So, needless to say, there’s a lot going on here. And it only gets more complex. Throughout the course of the book, we see that the temples are not just teleports and time machines; they “mix” the lives, memories and sometimes even the realities of the people who use them, which brings us to my first complaint. This “mixing” is represented physically in certain parts of the book by some panels being upside down or twisted together, and in the case of chapter five, having you read through the top half of every page first, then re-reading the bottom half in the opposite direction. While novel and an interesting physical metaphor for the content in the story itself, it ends up feeling gimmicky when you’re forced to turn your book up and down multiple times in the course of a few pages. Apparently this was a formatting problem. In single-issue number five, the idea was to have you read back and forth, and the characters would “meet” in the center of the book, but that didn’t translate to the graphic novel, hence the gimmicky feel.
Beyond that, the complexity of the story and concepts here are actually the books greatest strengths. The reader is moving between characters, locations and times constantly, as well as being introduced to new ideas, but never once did I feel lost or confused by what I was seeing or reading. Lemire has a beautiful knack for natural pacing, which is important for a story of this scope.
And nested even further beneath the veneer of the overall plot is what I mentioned previously as Lemire’s best asset: His focus on character and theme. Trillium has some outlandish and enticing science fiction concepts, but the real focus of the story is the bringing together and eventual blossoming love of Nika and William, both of whom are well rounded and nuanced characters. The theme of the story is love and connection even beyond vast distances and long odds, and everything in the narrative, even the gimmicky book rotation bit, serves to enhance and further that theme. Even Nika’s and William’s past experiences with loss and mental illness work to exhibit some deep, intransigent connection between the two.
I must say, however, that Trillium falls squarely in the science-fantasy camp, potentially (depending on your sensitivity,) to its detriment. Science fantasy is science fiction with little to no real explanation for its scientific concepts and extrapolations. (Think Star Wars.) In the end, the most important story, that of Nika and William, is wrapped up satisfactorily, as is humanities ultimate fate. But many of the books best ideas are left in an ambiguous state. What is the mechanism that allows the temples to “mix” lives and realities and why does it happen this way? What is the origin of The Caul and why does it have it out for humanity? Even the real nature and purpose of the namesake of the book, the flower Trillium, is never truly explained. These questions sound damning, but in actuality they aren’t. Presenting their answers isn’t necessary for Trillium to be a complete and satisfying narrative.
As much as I enjoy Lemire’s writing, I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with his art, specifically his character work. Lemire deals almost exclusively in hand-done watercolors, making for some beautiful coloring and landscaping, and specifically in Trillium: some absolutely drop dead gorgeous sci-fi imagery. His characters sometimes suffer for it though. While his facial work is always well done, his overall anatomy is usually pretty awkward, resulting in stiff bodies, retched looking hands, and characters that, for whatever reason, often look gaunt, pale and hungry.
In summary:
Trillium merges the best of two worlds: Unique and imaginative science fictional concepts and a tight, elegantly told love story. Overall a smart pick up, though readers with particular hang-ups about unanswered questions might take pause.
Grade: A-
Age Rating: 13+
Released By: Vertigo
Release Date: August 12th, 2014
MSRP: $16.99
