In the tale of вЂњThe Flood,вЂќ the shift to an omniscient third person narrative mode creates a wry and bizarrely appropriate juxtaposition with an вЂњomnsicientвЂќ God who comes off as juvenile, regretful (вЂњI didnвЂ™t mean to kill them all! Now theyвЂ™ll really hate me!вЂќ), and insecure. Perhaps Zeus is the mysterious narrator? The question is plainly there for the reader to think about, but it does not seem to make a difference within the greater context of the book. A greater implication about the narration also exists, as this first-person tale wedged in between two second-person narratives in the book.

Still, the shift to the first person in вЂњLeda and the SwanвЂќ is unambiguous, where Zeus (вЂњIвЂќ) directly addresses Leda (вЂњYouвЂќ).

Ultimately, it does not matter who is actually addressing the reader as вЂњyou,вЂќ whatвЂ™s important is that it adds to the mystery of the myth and adds a suggestive layer of absurdist ambiguity. While the reader never actually sees the faces of the silhouetted figures, the source of the narrative voice also remains a mystery. The narrative modes create a sense of mystery, just as the stark silhouettes do. Most stories use the second person, but вЂњLeda and the SwanвЂќ is told in the first person (from ZeusвЂ™s perspective), while вЂњThe FloodвЂќ is told in the third person (from inside a juvenile GodвЂ™s bedroom).

The stories shift narrative modes from tale to tale. By bringing these mythic figures into more modern trappings, they become more believable and easier to accept their flaws and foibles also become much more pronounced. This visual approach to storytelling allows Nilsen to not only highlight the humanity within tales of ancient myth, but he is also able to touch upon some of its inherent ridiculousness. This is where the essence of the bookвЂ™s narrative lies comics excel at simplifying the visually complex, evoking iconic meaning and symbolism using images, and the criteria of gods and myth are ones well-suited to such evocation. Some of the silhouettes are abstract, though most are unmistakably concrete. While this allows the reader to look at many images at once, the book itself is, when fully unfurled, like an object that exists at the nexus of an art gallery and a ruined wall or scroll inscribed with ancient glyphs. The entire book unfurls like an accordion, each fold showing a single silhouetted image captioned with a piece of story. More than the content, however, the form is what delivers Rage of Poseidon into noteworthiness. Now, Anders Nilsen uses the gods-among-us approach to raise questions about humanity and its existence in Rage of Poseidon, rethinking ancient myths for the modern era.ДЄ collection of short, mythical tales retold in a contemporary setting, Rage of Poseidon follows classic Greek and Roman gods and Judeo-Christian icons as they explore questions about the mundanity and tragedy surrounding human life, usually by acting like typical, confused, vindictive, sensitive, and/or self-destructive humans who happen to be immortal. Even Thor from Marvel Comics brushes upon some of the same ideas, albeit very occasionally and with the earnest, hyperbolic, and lighthearted flavor that can only come from superhero comics of the early 1960s. Eddie CampbellвЂ™s Bacchus follows the eponymous Greek god in a contemporary setting. Combining and contrasting the mundanity and tragedy of human existence with the divinity and cruelty of mythical gods is not an altogether new idea in comics, much less in literature.

Rage of the dark gods