PANEL

I probably wouldn’t hesitate to say that of all the comics I’ve ever read, none of them have ever made as big an impact on me as Neil Gaiman’s “The Sandman”.

I wouldn’t be alone, of course. “The Sandman” is widely heralded as one of the greatest comics series ever written, standing alongside other monolithic works like “Watchmen” as a series that first made many readers start taking visual storytelling seriously. In its initial run from 1989-1996, “The Sandman” redefined the possibilities of its entire medium, opening the door for dozens of mature comic series that followed.

Now, after 17 years, “The Sandman” is back with a new series.  The titular character, Dream of the Endless, has been featured in a number of one-shot projects since 1996, but the new series “The Sandman: Overture” represents the first long-form story for the character since the end of its initial run. Granted, it’s only a six-issue run, to be released bimonthly for the next six months, but it will aim to fill in a large prologue arc of the character’s history that has long been hidden from fans.

To recap and explain, though: “The Sandman” is about dreams, or more accurately, about Dream. Our lead character, who also goes by names like Morpheus, Oneiros and dozens of others, is one of the Endless, a celestial race of seven beings who all personify shared aspects of existence. Dream is the third eldest, sandwiched between his siblings Destiny, Death, Desire, Despair, Delirium and Destruction. The simplest way of describing the whole series’ arc is to say it’s about the changes Dream slowly experiences in the fabric of his being, and how he gradually becomes more “human”-like. This all begins with being captured and imprisoned in “The Sandman” #1, something that “The Sandman: Overture” will directly set up.

If you’ve never read any of the series, this would be an excellent time to start on the original collected trade paperbacks of “The Sandman.” It’s a dense, thought-provoking read that may very well change your opinions on comics, if all you’ve ever read are superhero books. Meanwhile, I’ll be keeping an eye out for “Overture.” Here’s hoping it’s the series of my dreams.

I have absolutely no hesitation calling The Sandman the best comic book ever written. I don’t consider it hyperbole or exaggeration: it’s a universal truth in my head, as unwavering as gravity or male pattern baldness. Other comics have certainly come close, but did Watchmen, Blankets, or Maus deliver sublime graphic literature over seven years for 75 issues? That’s almost two presidential terms. Neil Gaiman’s epic redefined calculated storytelling; the narrative sprawled and grew like a living thing, where cause could wait years before meeting effect. The original comic revolves around a moody Robert Smith-looking diety named Morpheus, the literal Lord of Dreams, who tips a series of plot dominos over that eventually leads to his destruction. One could argue that the entire story is about the nature of stories, but it’s primarily the heart-breaking portrait of a god who indirectly commits suicide. It’s also about dysfunctional families, irrepressible guilt, neglected lovers and sons, the perils of unyielding commitment, and the occasional metaphysical Shakespeare play. And much, much more.

But let’s try to forget about Sandman’s hagiography for a moment to consider the first issue of the refreshing new prequel, Overture. To attempt otherwise would be a recipe for disappointment and inequity. After all, Gaiman has revisited his beloved cult universe before in Endless Nights and The Dream Hunters. Both works are incredibly entertaining, if non-essential and slightly disappointing when compared to the work they derive from. Which is absolutely fine; they strike their own unique tone — artful vignette and legendary prose, respectively — without treading on the monster of a story that came before.

As much I tried to separate Overture on its own independent terms, it proved a mercifully difficult task. This debut issue reads like a missing piece of a work completed 17 years ago. This untold tale doesn’t feel as much like a distant satellite as an undiscovered continent to the Sandman myth, brimming with the same other-worldly delight that Gaiman revels in.