I do carry some mixed feelings about Moore's writing style. On the one hand, it's some of the most poetic and impactful writing you will ever find in comics. I sought out Swamp Thing for this reason, knowing it's considered some of Moore's best work. His writing can conjure more imagery than the artwork itself, and he has such a unique way with words. Horror is delivered with rhythmic perfection, and Swamp Thing's inner monologues actually feel botanical, with plenty of tenderness when interacting with Abby.

But sometimes it can be a case of too much of a good thing, and definitely feeling excessive in places. Hyper-poetic and metaphorical descriptions are found even in the most mundane of scenes, and it can comes across as overly indulgent, taking away impact in other places through overuse. Text can also be placed in great density alongside many unorthodox page compositions, so things can get a bit cumbersome in terms of consumption and pacing. I would have liked the artwork to breathe more, and the inclusion of more full page panels in general.

The very cerebral prose was also hit and miss for me. There were some chapters in the last volume I essentially skipped through because we get thrown into these highly abstract, disjointed side stories, where every line is so grandiose, so engineered, that absorbing it all and comprehending what's happening is fatiguing, and sometimes just plain confusing.

Take the off-planet story with the mercurial chair. Very bizarre and completely momentum killing at that stories narrative point. The volume 'Loving the Alien' was also very obscure, abandoning normal narrative logic deliberately for an experimental tale of a sentient plant planet who desires to mate with Swamp Thing. The writing felt more silicon than biological, and didn't work for me at all, nor did the artwork that supported it.

But when the cerebral is more measured, augmenting the more relatable writing and artwork, it is an absolutely glorious experience. The Gotham showdown, with it's punchy dialogue as the citizens and Batman come to terms with Swamp Things wrath, augmented with those wonderful descriptive panels describing nature's explosion through the city, were some of my favorite parts of the saga, as was Alec rebuilding the town of Houma on an alien planet to deal with his loneliness.

I also loved the volumes that portrayed the different folklore horrors unfolding across America and the climax with the Brujería, described brilliantly with all that malevolence and occultist lore underneath it. It was cool to see how Moore tackled the unleashing of the great evil, and Constantine's role as manipulator amongst superheroes to fight it off was a highlight too.

At that point in the story things were really picking up in terms of jeopardy, and overall the story development from vol. 1 to 5 carries this nice momentum and growth that I thought worked very well. Volume 6 is where I think it falters, not just with those aforementioned obscure off-world chapters, but also with another momentum killing plot relating to Abby's Frankenstein father, which felt like a volume 3 tale, out of place, and just unnecessary.

Vol. 6 was not bad however, with plenty of lovely galactic imagination on display, and that beautiful ending, but a bit disappointing given how strong it had been up until this point and ultimately, despite my inner voice telling me otherwise, is what prevents me giving it that legendary rating of 90 or above.