Yesterday I finished reading “From Hell.” I tried reading it once before—picked it up briefly during the spring of my first year of college, but didn’t get far. I found the art difficult, and then I had to return it to the library, and that was that. UNTIL NOW. This time I got right into it and finished it in a few days. I liked it more than “Watchmen.”

I almost forgot how fucking good Alan Moore is. Probably because some of his more rabid followers are such idiots. I also forgot that Moore is quite a feminist, and a spokesperson for all oppressed races and peoples. Again, probably because some of his more rabid followers are nerdy white dudes who aren’t very interested in those themes.

I think part of what kept me away from “From Hell” for so long was a fear that I would be too frustrated by Mr. Jack the Ripper himself, and his god-complex. It’s the same thing I hate about Raskolnikov, and, hell, Ben from “Lost.” That fucking self-centered, scientifically-minded certainty that one’s actions are serving a Greater Purpose, or that your own goals and interests override those of another, so what’s a few dead prostitutes (or a pawnbroker, or Dharma Initiative employees) along the way?

But I should have had more faith in Moore. He makes Gull fascinating and complicated, but does not worship him. (Though I know at least a few arrogant, scientifically-minded rabid Moore fans who do.)

I’d begun thinking it was time for a new comic hero (heroine) on my leather jacket, but after reading this, I think I’ll let Moore stay for awhile longer.

NOTE: I did not buy that leather jacket, I found it in a free pile at the end of my first year at Hampshire.  Its previous owner had painted a colorful mural across the back, complete with the words “KILL YOUR TELEVISION.”  And for the curious, it is Neil Gaiman’s moniker for Moore that I have written on the back.