ES: Eternal Sabbath, Vols. 1-8

By Fuyumi Soryo
Published by Del Rey
Rating: Older Teen (16+)

The vivid images that haunt us when we sleep seem like perfect fodder for art. Yet we often produce dream-inspired work that’s much goofier and far less potent than our nocturnal imaginings: think of Salvador Dali’s unabashedly Freudian dream sequence in Spellbound (the one false note in an otherwise great thriller), or John Fuseli’s heavy-handed symbolism in The Nightmare (in which a Rubenesque sleeper is tormented by a ghostly horse and an incubus, the ultimate Romantic two-fer). These images fail to shock because they seem too mannered, too staid—in short, too neat, failing to capture the subconscious mind’s ability to juxtapose the banal with the fantastic. In ES: Eternal Sabbath, however, manga-ka Fuyumi Soryo steers clear of the clichés and overripe imagery that reduce so many dreamy works to kitsch, producing a taut, spooky thriller that reminds us just how weird and terrifying a place the mind can be.

The first volume of ES introduces us to Shuro, a young man with the ability to read thoughts. Shuro uses the information he gathers from other people to impersonate their friends and family members, wiping their memories clean when he tires of the situation. One afternoon, Shuro bumps into neuroscientist Mine Kujyou just as a man is being bludgeoned to death in front of a dozen horrified onlookers. Mine is shocked when no one remembers seeing Shuro saunter past the crime scene in a state of utter indifference, as if he knew what was about to transpire. Her researcher’s instinct piqued, she begins to track Shuro’s movements, initiating a game of cat-and-mouse that quickly escalates into psychological warfare.

In a plot twist that would surely please Fox Mulder, a researcher from a clandestine government laboratory arrives on the scene, Smoking Man style, to explain that Shuro is, in fact, a clone, created by scientists on the hunt for the “eternal sabbath,” a.k.a. eternal youth, gene. (The psychic powers powers are a happy by-product of the experiment.) Shuro escaped from his creators with fellow clone Isaac, an even more powerful, less scrupulous mind reader with a destructive agenda. Mine must then decide whether to assist Shuro and Isaac’s creator in re-capturing the wayward clones, or to allow Shuro to disappear back into the shadows.

To be sure, many of ES: Eternal Sabbath’s themes are science fiction staples: do scientists have an ethical obligation to treat engineered life forms with the same care as humans? Are there realms of knowledge and experience that cannot be quantified or explained through modern science? That such tried-and-true questions resonate with us is testament to Soryo’s storytelling skills. She never offers pat answers, nor does she use her characters as mouthpieces for condemning genetic research. Instead, she creates a small, intimately linked cast whose conflicting desires, insecurities, fears, and friendships dramatize the series’ overarching theme, what does it mean to be human?, while underscoring the horror and poignancy of the clones’ liminal status.

Soryo’s artwork is up to the task of telling her ambitious story. Her character designs, though a little blank-faced, are refreshingly realistic, as are her detailed backdrops. (Mine and Shuro both look preternaturally calm most of the time, as if they’d OD’ed on tranquilizers.) Where Soryo really shines, however, are the dream sequences, which are visceral and unsettling. In volume one, for example, there’s a brief scene in which a large insect emerges from a disturbingly organic mass that suddenly shatters into hundreds of living, moving pieces. The strangeness of the image, the abrupt shift in mood, the blurry line between inanimate and animate objects—these feel like an authentic product of the subconscious, and not a Freudian rebus to be decoded by the audience.

I could cavil about a few details, but on the whole, this eight-volume series has few wasted pages. The story moves at a brisk clip without sacrificing characterization or common sense; the art suggests the workings of the subconscious mind without silliness; and the ending is genuinely moving and surprising. Science fiction fanatics will find much to like here, as will horror buffs, josei aficionados, and readers who like the idea that women can kick butt in the sciences, Lawrence Summers and evil clones be damned.

All eight volumes of ES: Eternal Sabbath are available now.