Transmetropolitan is a comic book that is brilliant beyond words. Raw and epic, it packs a fuming, rabid, and an eccentric protagonist wading through the labyrinth of a decrepit world, conspiracies, vile dictatorships and gut wrenching violence. A poetic, anarchic, visionary book perfect for a poetic, anarchic, visionary individual. The book is set in a science fiction world where all kinds of hallucinogenic drugs are the norm, and all kinds of alien creatures walk beside humanity. But mankind is still playing the same old perverse game of power, politics, sex, control, degeneration.
The plot begins with a wild man living in the supreme freedom of the wild, forced to return to civilization by contracts he was legally bound to. As it turns out, this man, our protagonist, is a journalist and grumbling and cussing, he lights a trail through the city's main scoop, exposing the truth brewing under and takes us all into a murky world of radical adventures.
To me, the protagonist is every bit perfect. A classic madman who bleeds cuss words, searing intelligence, a maverick's notions and an innate will to see the truth. The book is poignant, wacky and hilarious. It has an edge to it, an extreme, stark raving nature to it. There are such intriguing, quirky bits in here that you are bound to break out laughing or gasping or ogling as you contemplate the wonder that flows through the pages.
For instance, the crazy iconic eye-wear ensemble that the protagonist wears is because the machine that answers to human command, had been ingesting drugs! Machines on drugs! Super radical and strangely wondrous. The artwork is fantastic: it brings to life the strange and sublime atmosphere of a futuristic era where society has wasted away holistically.
The book amplifies the many vanities of human nature, and plays on them brilliantly to pack a punch. At the core of the story is a group called Transients that is working on transforming themselves into aliens through plastic surgery and while the leader of this pack is a completely inane douche, the group falls prey to a police conspiracy and is being bludgeoned to death, while our cynical and bitter hero descends upon the scene and does a live coverage of the sinister and gory plot, exposing the police and their sordid mess, while the world takes notice, and the riot is stopped.
The end scene of the book is a splash of uncomfortable violence against our hero as an act of vengeance by the cops. When they are done beating him black and blue, our protagonist gets off the street and laughs on endlessly while declaring that once unleashed, he cant be stopped.
And, by the way, our protagonist is called Spider Jerusalem. Who wouldn't want to follow the adventures of a guy with that name?
The love for books & a hunger for stories was programmed into my DNA. And, sooner than later, life experiences sealed the deal. Books have saved me, transformed my life, enlightened me and have shown me the path I must walk. In a way, far too many books have played the role of kindred spirits and guides, leading the seeker in me to answers and paving a way for a new way of life. Books have helped me keep my wits, my sense of wonder, my sense of mystery and curiosity & my sanity in a life that has been anything but predictable and normal.