5 out of 5

One of the truest labors of love that I’ve read, in which that labored over love is part of the story: its informing the creation of the book is both what the fiction is about, and the metafiction of what it’s about, and the reality of Marco’s narratives, before and after the fiction.

Tellingly, about half of ‘Nosferatu’ is given over to “supplemental” material, to the extent that it shouldn’t be considered supplemental at all; however, there is a title page, and a ‘The End’ preceding that, so interpret that as you will.

Marco Fontanili: The art on the cover (of this absolutely lovely 12″ x 8.5″ HC from Invader Comics) might be surprising to those who’ve followed Fontanili’s angular, byzantine grotesqueries across some of his other works: it’s an umistakable, densely detailed and shaded rendering of the dracula from the F.W. Murnau classic, against a Da Vinci nighttime sky. And far from being just a showpiece, the intro and outro to more “typical” Fontanili work in the interior features illustrated text pages with the same denseness, setting this dracula – Noseratu – into the “real” world of the makers behind the classic B&W film, Murnau and designer Albin Grau. Mixed in we get elements of Marco’s angular works in the fire and some stylized elements, but this is an otherwise immaculately tempered look.

If you’re desirous of the other style, though, fear not: Gorey shading and Gothic angles await, as Nosferatu swoops across smoothly shaded plains into a delightful nightmare of those angles (upon angles upon angles), Marco pushing negative space to the extremes, and using flat whites and blacks to eke out an amazing amount of depth. All of this explodes in celluloid – literally, within the story – as actual film cells from the film spool out for Nosferatu to examine.

The remainder of the story – which is all silent, natch – and though already surreal, gets even moreso, but in fitting inserting Murnau and Grau into the intro and outro, there’s much here about the blending of / influence of fiction and reality / fiction upon reality and vice versa. I won’t claim to fully understand it, except that the visuals take on more meaning after you’ve read the intro and outro, then again after you’ve read some of the supplemental material, then again after you’ve had some time to sit with the book. (And I’m looking forward to the next Again.)

Surrounding the illustrated story are fascinating text histories on the strange story of Murnau’s film, with details I truly hadn’t heard before (and I would chuckle if they turn out to actually be fiction; but I’ believe them’m happy to believe them), and which, as mentioned, absolutely influence the feeling of the story, and enhance our / my understanding of Marco’s appreciation for the material and what the book might mean to him. As a side note, I don’t see a translator listed, which is pretty amazing: the text reads perfectly. Maybe Marco always spoke English and I just ignorantly assumed otherwise, or maybe there was a translation assist, or uncredited translation, but even if this was written by an English-first writer / speaker – it’s perfect: it’s informative and detailed without being too glossy or boring.

The “supplemental” material contains a kind of bonus epilogue which can rather hauntingly be patched in to the reality and fiction overlapping themes, and then some behind-the-scenes on Marco’s process.

An inspiring presentation.