I've heard many writers talk about how they feel like they need to kill their long-running characters. Mystery novelists do this all the time, lest they become trapped in an endless stream of sequels that grow more tired with each volume. When a writer spends so much time with a character, the story really can't end with anything less than death. Especially in the case of Dream of the Endless, a character's stories must, at some point, become finite. What sets apart "The Wake" from other stories about a protagonist's death is that it's an entire denouement dedicated to the process of mourning and moving on after the spectacular finish.

After the flat, geometric art of "The Kindly Ones" (which I was never very fond of), Sandman returns to the gorgeous painted look of its early volumes, care of Michael Zulli and Dan Vozzo. This lends a respectable seriousness to "The Wake", a visual representation of the time and care that went into the story. This texture and depth allows each of the characters to really look like they're going through a complex string of emotions following Dream's death. They show a mix of sadness, regret and memory.

"The Wake" gives us a chance to reflect upon how many stories Dream created, how many lives he changed for better or worse. It's also a chance for us as readers to go through our own mourning process. Part of me wishes I had experienced Sandman as the original fans of the series had. They got to spend seven full years with the series rather than breezing through it in a matter of weeks. For long-time readers, Dream's death must have been quite like experiencing a loss in real life. "The Wake", by that token, seems necessary. Neil Gaiman notes in an afterword how rare it is for a comic publisher to allow a popular series to end. Plenty of comic writers certainly move on from a character, but then the company usually just hands it off to someone else. DC allowed Gaiman to end Sandman for creative reasons even though it was one of their most popular titles and the flagship comic of the Vertigo label. Gaiman had an obligation to give his fans a chance to process the loss.

It softens the blow a bit to see the new Dream, made out of Lyta Hall's son Daniel, getting acclimated to his life. The new Dream is softer than Morpheus, gentler and more accommodating. He's less of an imposing figure but seems to be no less powerful than his predecessor. There's relief in his ability to grow and change, which are two things Morpheus never handled very well. Sandman has an enlightened perspective on death, fate and change throughout, and the transition in "The Wake" fits the comic's overall philosophy. It all comes off as the natural course of things.

Stepping outside the story, the end of Sandman was a positive thing for Neil Gaiman's career as well. It freed him up to finish Neverwhere and dive into novel writing rather than remain tied down to the world of comic books. It's fitting that the lesson of Sandman both within and outside the story is the same: In order to grow, things must change and in order to change, something must be lost.