SE: I just read through the first issue of The Territory, and I'm intrigued - what the hell is going on with this guy? Set the stage, please.
DL: Well, I don't really want to do more than raise the curtain and start the play but, basically, it's about a man who finds himself stranded in the middle of an ocean without knowing who he is, where he is, or why he's there, and faced with a future that closely resembles a tour through a pulp fiction theme park.
SE: We probably need to take the first question a little deeper. What elements are we dealing with in this story? Who are the players? It seems to me that there is actually only one that we can be sure of - Ishmael.
DL: We can be sure of Ishmael and sure of everything Ishmael's sure of, which is enough. The basis of the story is a classic one - a person is plunged into unknown territory and has to adapt quickly to survive. It's the plot of what's considered to be first novel - Robinson Crusoe - and it's been used widely since then, either directly, or in similar forms: lots of Hitchcock characters, for instance, are ordinary people who suddenly find themselves in extraordinary situations. It's a regular element of escapist fiction, especially the classic pulps we're paying tribute to here, and it benefits the audience by taking each one of them into the protagonists point of view.
SE: It seems that for all the action and physical predicaments this character finds himself in, most of what's going on here is psychological. It's like you're giving the character Ishmael a number of very difficult choices, and he has no idea what will result from any of them. At least in the world we live in (I hesitate to use the world 'real') for some reason, you and I can somewhat predict the results of our actions. This guy obviously can't.
DL: Ishmael acts as any amnesiac would. You hesitate to describe the world as 'real' because it's strange to you. For a moment, imagine yourself as an amnesiac in this world, (which we chose to call 'real') - with all of its contents lost to you. A car would be as strange to you as a dinosaur, and the results of your actions would be as unpredictable as your fate. To stop yourself from going mad, you'd have to find a way to validate your existence by establishing a purpose to it.
SE: Is this some sort of parable? What are your intentions in crafting a story where so much needs to be interpreted? I suppose it could just be fun . . .
DL: Nothing needs to be interpreted. It can just be fun. Lovecraft's work can be enjoyed without knowing why he felt the need to write. Conan's adventures can be appreciated without considering Howard's needs to bust his bonds. It's up to you. Whatever you're looking for you can find.
SE: Are you a student of philosophy at all? This whole story seems like it could be rooted in Descartes' "I think, therefore I am" - Ishmael thinks he's Ishmael, but he can't be sure of anything. In fact, in the script of issue two, he asks himself, "What did I really know?" which is something we can all ask ourselves about our self-perception and what we believe of the world around us. Is this something you'd like your readers to consider as they read The Territory?
DL: I'm interested in the relationship of storyteller and listener. I'm interested in knowing why we all have a need to live vicariously, for either a short time or the length of our entire existence. I'm interested in the therapy of art, the transformation of obsession into creative expression.
I'm less interested in exploring why we're here than in finding out why we don't seem to cope with being here very well. Do you realize there are now more forms of escapism open to us than at any time in history? And we're still creating more. At the turn of the century the pulps were one of the first of a very few means of transporting society to another world. Now lots of us spend more time in other worlds than we do in our own.
SE: How does The Territory compare to other work you've done? Does it hold to a common theme in any way?
DL: The Territory's a great opportunity to depict archetypal adventure worlds with a purpose beyond creating entertainment for its own sake. I loved the 'Carter of Mars' books, Lovecraft, Mickey Spillane, Clark Ashton Smith, C.L. Moore - there was a hyper reality to all that - a larger than life quality, a brighter-than-life color to it, even in the dark stuff. We wanted to create something similar and I've never done it before in the way we're doing it because there was no reason to do it for simply the purpose of recreation.
As you suggest it, I'm happy to point readers to other things they might like: Aliens: Glass Corridor, New Adventures of the Spirit, The Horrorist (with Jamie), V for Vendetta, and also Night Raven: House of Cards, again with Jamie, which is from '91, is a Marvel graphic novel, is classic pulp, and is beautifully painted (if I say so myself), and unusually beautifully printed (specifically in its first, large format version).