The Sandman might just be the best comic series ever made. It’s certainly won more praise and critical accolade than any other comic series, and stands as the only comic book to ever hold a place on the New York Times Best Seller List or win a World Fantasy Award. In fact, it may be the only comic to ever win a World Fantasy Award, as the following morning the organization changed its rules so that a lowly comic book could never win the award again.

The series ran from 1989 to 1996, every word of it written by Neil Gaiman, who has since gone on to bigger, though not necessarily better, things. In those seven years, Gaiman crafted a genuine literary comic book, merging history, myth, and fantasy into a dreamscape that included the best elements of the real world and make believe. The series is now collected in ten (actually eleven) books, presenting the monthly issues more or less in the order they originally appeared. While Preludes & Nocturnes, the first book in the series, is far and away the weakest, even in its humble beginnings we can see the masterpiece that The Sandman was destined to become.

This first book introduces us to Dream of the Endless, perhaps better known as The Sandman. Pale, scrawny, and infinitely morose, Dream is the very embodiment of that which all good little goth boys and girls strive to be. In 1916, he is accidentally captured by a British occult society trying to imprison Death, and he remains their prisoner until the chance to escape finally presents itself in 1988. The world suffers in Dream’s absence; many fall under a mysterious sleeping sickness, never waking from their slumber. As Dream reminds the only man left to punish for his 70 years of captivity, all of humanity is lucky they did not succeed in incarcerating his older sister, Death.

Dream returns to find the Dreaming in ruins. He spends the rest of the book tracking down the three powerful artifacts he needs to rebuild his kingdom – his pouch of sand, his mask, and his ruby – that were stolen from him during his imprisonment. During his quest, he earns the ire of Hell and enlists the help of a few DC superheroes, including John Constantine and Martian Manhunter, and battles with JLA villain Doctor Destiny. While they mostly play as temporary sidekicks, the superheroes feel strangely out of place in a world where truly horrific acts are possible. The terror Doctor Destiny unleashes in a small town diner over 24 hours, for example, draws attention to just how impotent most comic book villains’ schemes really are. Thankfully, Gaiman gives up shoehorning The Sandman into the DC Universe after Preludes & Nocturnes, opting to populate his world with his own characters instead.

Gaiman admits in the book’s afterward that Preludes & Nocturnes represents his exploration of various horror subgenres. The dark, ornately framed art certainly matches its subject matter. However, even as Gaiman struggles to find his voice, Preludes & Nocturnes is already laying the groundwork for The Sandman’s future. Dream’s trip to Hell in particular sets up multiple future plot points and hints there’s more to The Sandman than simple horror. Similarly, Dream’s visit with the Hecateae, the three weird sisters from Norse Mythology, Macbeth, and Harry Potter, suggests the series’ more literary aspirations. And as we watch 72 years fly by in the book’s opening chapter, we see Gaiman’s first attempt to merge the narrative of the series with the history of reality.

In many ways, Preludes & Nocturnes also sets up the series’ ending, though realistically, it’s impossible to realize this through a first reading. Looking back, however, it’s easy to see the seeds for the series’ eventual conclusion, and even easier to respect Gaiman for beginning the series with a clear indication of where he wanted to take it, even if he wasn’t quite sure how he’d get there. At several points during the book, Dream comments on how much the world has changed during his incarceration. The Dreaming, obviously, lies in ruins, but other places have changed in Dream’s absence too. The Wood of Suicides in Hell, once a tiny grove, is now an endless forest, and Hell itself is now ruled by a triumvirate, with Beelzebub and Azazel sharing equal power with Lucifer. In the mortal realm, two world wars and rapid technological advances have left their mark on the world. Even the Justice League of America is now the Justice League International, with embassies throughout the world. The fact that the world could change so much without him wounds Dream’s pride, and there’s a sense, even now, that Dream must change with the changing world.

But immortals tend to get stuck in their routine; billions of years of life would do the same to you. The book ends with Dream accompanying Death on her daily duties, but Gaiman’s Death is like no other personification of the grim reaper. With no sickle or shroud, Dream’s sister is a bubbly, down-to-earth goth girl who stands in seemingly stack contradiction with her assigned task. But then again, shouldn’t Death herself cherish life more than all others? Here, the book finally comes into its own in its last 23 pages. Dream confides in his sister that a part of him doesn’t want to return to his duties, and that his quest to escape his captives and retrieve his tools instilled in him a sense of purpose he had never before experienced. Death reminds her gloomy brother that they are Endless; they don’t need to be worshiped like gods to survive and they will exist long after life has left the world. As such, they have a task to do, and nobody else is going to do it for them.

Dream takes Death’s words to heart, and the series only improves from here. The Sandman quickly sheds the strictly linear, MacGuffin-driven plot of Preludes & Nocturnes in favor of more interesting possibilities. Often times, Dream plays but a minor role in his own series or doesn’t show up at all. Instead, dreams themselves become the leading protagonist, as the series shifts between reality and fantasy, history and legend, and manages to build a cohesive narrative out of seemingly unrelated stories. Superheroes are replaced with Greek myths, Egyptian gods, and historical figures – who are far more interesting than musclebound men in spandex anyway – as The Sandman rises above the juvenile trappings of its medium. Gaiman describes the first book in his series as “awkward and ungainly,” but even in its rough beginning it’s easy to see the first hints of The Sandman’s inevitable greatness.