The second element here that merits discussion is the storytelling itself and how Morrison makes Gasglow and the Glamour take center stage, which is no easy feat in a narrative with two larger-than-life characters at its core. These leads to a master class in the use of pronouns that delivers lines like this: 'She's a boy playing a girl playing a boy' and 'He'd done her research.' Gender, identity, fluidity, and constant transformation - for performance purposes and for life in general - collide in Luda in beautiful ways, and Morrison presents all of it with heart and unwavering clarity. Luci and Luda are men, women, men that play women, and women that play men. Morrison shows just how fluid gender is while obliterating the idea of identity as an established, monolithic thing. Luckily, there are elements that emerge as the most crucial because of their power, timeliness, or flawless execution. In fact, discussing all of them would turn this review into a novella-length rumination on a plethora of subjects. What follows is a bizarre journey that spirals into the dark, monstrous heart of the city of Gasglow as Luci and Luda's relationship grows and shifts, their fellow actors keep dropping like flies, and Luda morphs into a bigger, stranger, deadlier, more mysterious version of everything Luci was.

Unfortunately, as Luci tutors Luda in the magical ways of the Glamour, their fellow actors and crew members begin having strange accidents and meeting untimely demises, which makes Luci wonder if Luda has mastered the Glamour too well and is using it for nefarious purposes. Luda is also a fan of Luci, and she begs the legend to show her the tricks of the trade and to initiate her in the ways of the Glamour, 'the original name for magic,' which Luci describes in many ways, including 'a method whereby we could put makeup on the dullest moment, transforming it into its own best self.' Luda is witty, gorgeous, and charming, all of which remind Luci of herself before the ravages of time dimmed her inner light. After many letdowns, a new face who wasn't even on the list waltzes in, steals the show - and a chunk of Luci's heart and mind - and gets the role. The rehearsals are going well, but then Luci's co-star has a mysterious accident and they're left scrambling for a replacement. A veteran drag artist who has conquered screen and stage, Luci, now starting to worry about what age is doing to her looks, lands a leading role in a hit musical. Okay, we'll go with this: Luda is a magical, multilayered, intoxicating story about identity, stardom, performance, lust, and death that could only have come from the prodigious mind of Grant Morrison. Ah, I left out the supernatural elements and endless playfulness even in the darkest moments. Luda is a narrative concerned with the passage of time and the magic of performance.

No, scratch that: It is a blitzkrieg of ideas wrapped in a celebration of language. Grant Morrison's Luda is a wildly entertaining drag show of the highest intellectual order.

The magic circle poetry book cover