I had to write to tell you how much I like SHARDS. The graphics are just as good as Wendy's (I wonder how many times that has been said). I like the front covers, too.
I like the fact that Two-Edge is back. I don't think he's going to do something bad to Venka. Maybe it's because he likes her.
In the story I've seen the thoughts of Winnowill, Rayek, Clearbrook, Treestump, Venka and Cutter. But what about Aroree, Zhantee, Skot and Krim? Will they always be background characters?
Venka looks very much like her "sister" Vaya. She's kind, calm, and hard if need be. Please show some more of her mother's character in her. (What has happened to the Go-Backs, anyway?) And thanks for everyone at Warp Graphics for doing such a nice job!
Danielle Baarh
<<street address removed from archive>>
I know the content of this letter will most
likely be universally unpopular, with both other fans
and the creative team, but I feel deeply compelled to
write it in response to all the letters I have read in the
lettercol about the possible fate of Cutter. The subject
is simply this: why Cutter must die.
There are two big reasons for ELFQUEST's continuing popularity, and for the fierce loyalty of its long-term fans. One is the fact that, despite its fantastic setting and circumstances, ELFQUEST is about life - those universal aspects of existence which each reader can relate to. The second is the mythic quality of the storytelling. I would like to address these topics in order, and show why each argues in favor of Cutter's death - and why to let him linger on would violate and undermine both of these things which have always been ELFQUEST's greatest strengths.
Most comics aren't about life. Certainly, that genre of comics dealing with guys who wear tights and can leap tall buildings in a single bound have almost no relation to what most of us experience in our lives. But ELFQUEST has always been different. ELFQUEST is about diminutive guys riding around on wolves, sure. But it's also about finding your place in the world. About family. Friendship. Love. Birth. And death.
All of these have been constant themes throughout the series, but the one I'm focussing on in this letter is, of course, death. Death has, in fact, been a very important theme, one Wendy and Richard have touched on often ever since the original quest. After all, death is not only a part of "the way," but - as we have been told time and time again - is the very reason why the Wolfriders belong to the World of Two Moons (it'll always be that to me, never this "Abode" place) when none of the other elf tribes do.
Remember way back, when the Wolfriders first interacted with the Sun Folk? Even though life was hard for the Sun Folk, what with zwoot stampedes and droughts and whatnot, their outlook on it was very different. They were slow, placid, timid. The reason for this was that they knew, from Savah, that they would live forever - they had all the time in the world. They could take a few centuries to figure stuff out. Contrast them to the Wolfriders, who knew that life was short and hard - and yet had a zest for that life that the Sun Folk could never match. Knowing that our time is limited, after all, is what gives each day meaning.
For a time, Cutter dreamed of living forever, until Winnowill revealed what Leetah already knew - that the Wolfriders were mortal. But it didn't upset him. Quite the contrary, the mortal wolf in him is what gave him the power to stand up to Winnowill, when "purer" immortal elves failed. His outlook then was echoed later by the grieving Clearbrook, when she said, "The wolf fights to survive... But death, when it comes, is neither friend nor enemy... it is."
And Timmain's response: "It is for you, my son's children. And I think it has made you - strongest of all!"
So you see, we have here this rich, beautiful background - this wondrous life and strength of the Wolfriders, which none of the other elves can achieve. And which, ultimately, causes we the readers to love the Wolfriders best. They resonate with us, because they live through the cycles and seasons of life just like we do. They aren't some ethereal, far-off creatures floating high over our heads somewhere. They're real - we can touch them, and touching them touch something of our own lives as well.
My other reason is simply this: ELFQUEST achieves something of the mythic in its storytelling. Its characters, with their proud heritage, their stories and legends, are themselves immersed in myth. And in turn, they become the myth for us. But the truth is, in all the great myths, the hero always dies. Either he (or she) dies a physical death, or is whisked away to live with the gods, or in some sort of paradise (and thus might as well be dead). Did those long-ago storytellers know something - that the end of the story is as important as the beginning? And that there must be an end, for it to have any real meaning?
I suppose this letter is meant to be something of a plea, or perhaps at least a counterbalance to all the people writing in begging you not to kill Cutter. It's not that I don't like him. It's that, if you let him live on and on, you'll betray your own story. You'll say that all that grand talk of life and the world and the gift of mortality really didn't mean anything. You'll say that you didn't even believe it yourself. And to find out after all these years that the core of ELFQUEST is really hollow would be more tragic than any hero's death.
One last thought - Cutter is the blood of ten chiefs. Ten people had to be born, live, and die for him to be. The cycle of death and life is more than just a plot line - it's a real part of the character's identity. Cutter has done more than all those other ten people put together, true. But now his daughter wears the chiefslock
It's time.
Elaine Scruggs
<<street address removed from archive>>
There are so many things that I might say in response to this wonderful letter, some of which might be clever, some of which might be intriguing... But Wendy wanted to reply herself, taking a note from one of her own favorite sources of earthy wisdom: William Shakespeare. In particular, from Hamlet, act five scene two:
"Not a whit, we defy augury; there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all."
To which Wendy adds, "Don't think small, but think small. "
See you in 45! - RP