Review by Booklist Review
The impressive first of two compilations of Nilsen's latest comic, which he began publishing in 2017, collects six volumes and a supplement. The result is a stupendous epic that intricately weaves Greek and Roman myths, central Asian conflagrations, militant religion, and even a wishful jab at the returning president. The narrative threads initially seem many: a fatal attack in the middle of an endless desert; a prisoner dreaming of human creation; an eagle feeding daily on a chained god's liver; a hoodie-wearing young man wandering nowhere with a teddy bear strapped to his backpack (he apparently hasn't aged in the 20 years since Dogs & Water) who's picked up by two mysterious soldiers in an army truck; a girl, monkey, and chicken who survive a multi-vehicle implosion. Chapters intertwine into an addictively multilayered story of a supreme god under attack while humanity unknowingly faces complete annihilation. The chained prisoner--Prometheus bound--refuses freedom to suffer eternally for his humans. His nephew is also his jailer, worshipped as the Omega or Z, but young Astrid, made an orphan in a Kenyan bombing, may be his prophesied killer--or not. Unfolding over almost 400 pages of absolutely electrifying, meticulously immersive art--what utterly fantastic creatures he creates!--Nilsen bestows lucky readers with a wondrous gift, albeit feeding a demand for more (volume 2 is slated for 2028).
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Ignatz winner Nilsen (Big Questions) brings an ambitious postcolonialist perspective to the myth of Prometheus, projecting ancient strife among deities into present-day conflict in Central Asia. The plot centers on Astrid, a 13-year-old East African girl dragging a suitcase across the desert with a monkey and a talking chicken in tow. Surviving on scavenged MREs (meals ready to eat), Astrid has been summoned by the goddess Seshat for a task of world-altering consequence. Meanwhile, Prometheus sits chained to his rock, gathering scraps of news on human progress from the eagle who arrives each day to devour his liver--their routine only broken by occasional games of chess. Though an adventure saga on its surface, the deliberately paced narrative makes space for philosophical ruminations on the origin of language and appraisals of Russian composer Alfred Schnittke's "Minnesang" choral lamentation. Nilsen's audacious page layouts match the narrative scope. Intricate scenes play out in honeycombs of hexagonal frames, or across panels arranged over anatomical diagrams of animals--a visual allusion to archaic haruspicy (divination through examination of animal entrails). Pages also fold out interstitially in the printed work, a puzzle design to match the artistry. With exhilarating imagination, Nilsen charges headlong at big themes of responsibility, fate, mortality, transcendence, and the natural order. The results are stunning. Agent: Frances Coady, Aragi Inc. (Mar.)
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Review by Library Journal Review
Three-time Ignatz Award winner Nilsen (The End) pairs his trademark minimalist artwork with profound meditations on revenge, survival, and the human condition in this retelling of the Greek myth of Prometheus, the Greek titan whose gift of fire to humanity resulted in him being sentenced to suffer eternal torment. Nilsen's spin on the classic story is set in modern times, taking place in an oil-rich Central Asian nation ravaged by conflict between rival gangs. Prometheus has formed an uneasy but vital friendship with the eagle tasked with devouring his liver each day of the past several centuries, but this unlikely friendship has done nothing to ease the long-suffering titan's desire for revenge against the Olympian gods. Nilsen interweaves Prometheus's scheming with several other surreal plotlines, including the misadventures of an East African orphan and the wanderings of a powerful young man with a teddy bear strapped to his back who wields seemingly godlike powers. Nilsen's use of frequently silent panels, expansive landscapes, and deliberate pacing evokes a quiet intensity that feels both timeless and contemporary. VERDICT A compellingly enigmatic adventure story exploring the role of personal and cultural mythology in today's fraught historical moment.
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
A collection of the six issues (plus supplement) to date of Nilsen's hallucinatory graphic novel. A humanlike figure, bound to a rock in the faraway mountains, is visited daily by an eagle that eats its liver. The process starts all over the next day. It's the tale of Prometheus, of course, though Nilsen calls him "The Prisoner." The eagle is talkative, and a good chess player, though the Prisoner is better: "It's your move," he tells the eagle. "Your queen is under threat." The whole world is under threat, as it happens, thanks to humans and their insatiable ways. Says another visitor, Prometheus' brother Epimetheus, portrayed as a sort of antelope and bent on ending the human desecration of the planet, "I am acting not only to save the ten thousand species I most love, or to end the decimation of all life. I am acting to end its perversion to human ends." There are humans aplenty in Nilsen's tale, and most are indeed up to no good: There's a Russian soldier of fortune, for instance, who's bound up in intrigue, and a cult devoted to the god Omega, and a mysterious kid named Teddy Roosevelt who converses with, yes, a stuffed bear. Chickens talk, gods talk, bad guys talk, the young world-saver named Astrid talks. Only a monkey that bounces around at points in the tale keeps shtum, but one has the sense that the monkey knows much more than it's letting on. The whole narrative has a decidedly otherworldly sense to it, a kind ofClassics Illustrated run amok, and it's utterly beguiling: throw in a magic cube to complicate the storyline, and while it may not make much sense, it doesn't really have to if the reader suspends disbelief long enough to listen to an eagle trying to make sense of an iPhone. Superb graphic art meets an exceedingly odd tale, and to wonderful ends. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
