AN ALL-NEW LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN ADVENTURE!
In the grim cold of February surfaces a thrilling new League of Extraordinary Gentlemen book: NEMO: HEART OF ICE, a full-color 56-page adventure in the classic pulp tradition by the inestimable Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill.
It's 1925, fifteen long years since Janni Dakkar first tried to escape the legacy of her dying science-pirate father, only to accept her destiny as the new Nemo, captain of the legendary Nautilus. Now, tired of her unending spree of plunder and destruction, Janni launches a grand expedition to surpass her father's greatest failure: the exploration of Antarctica. Hot on her frozen trail are a trio of genius inventors, hired by an influential publishing tycoon to retrieve the plundered valuables of an African queen. It's a deadly race to the bottom of the world -- an uncharted land of wonder and horror where time is broken and the mountains bring madness. Jules Verne meets H.P. Lovecraft in the unforgettable final showdown, lost in the living, beating and appallingly inhuman HEART OF ICE.
The latest tale from the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Moore and O'Neill's pastiche of public domain literary heroes and their own spin-offs will not disappoint fans. The story picks up in 1925, a decade and a half after Captain Nemo's death, and follows his daughter, Janni Dakkar, as she steers the Nautilus submarine on a course for Antarctica. Pursued by foes attempting to retrieve the valuables she and her crew have taken from the mysterious Queen of Kor, Janni must negotiate the bizarre temporal distortions that make traversing the Antarctic even more treacherous than normal. This is precisely where Moore shows off his storytelling, employing a cool little narrative trick that has the readers thinking they have been caught in the same time loop as the story's protagonists. What is so staggering about Nemo: Heart of Ice, however, is O'Neill's elegant yet disturbing visuals; one particular two-page spread depicting the bizarre region of Megapatagonia, where animal creatures talk backward French, should leave the viewer slack-jawed. Indeed, should readers tire of rereading the story (doubtful), they could effectively turn it into a flip-book and simply soak in the rich blues, lavenders and greens of O'Neill's stunning palette.
Suprisingly the artwork was way better than the story.