Some Final Thoughts on Church and State
I want to get back to the regularly scheduled superhero-themed posting (since the whole point of this blog is to be able to openly talk about comics I can't talk about to those who I'm trying to convince of the value of the medium), but I've got a couple more things to say about Cerebus. I'm just starting Mothers & Daughters now (issue 150 or so), but the ending of Church & State really impressed me.
This post is going to be chock-full of spoilers, so those who are concerned about such things may want to stop reading now.
Earlier, I was a little confused by the narrative decision to make Cerebus a rapist. As mentioned, it certainly allowed Sim to deal with some religious issues, and ended up revealing more about the character of Cerebus than one might expect, but it seemed like a pretty drastic step in turning your readership against your protagonist.
All of that became much more clear in the end of Church & State. Cerebus, having walked out of Astoria's trial to climb a giant tower to meet God, ends up on the moon talking with the Judge from Jules Feiffer's Little Murders. After the judge reveals that the world will end in 6000 years (which puts the events of Cerebus right about at the start date of the planet acc'd to the fundamentalists), Cerebus asks about his own destiny.
These three pages are some of the best I've read in a long while. Cerebus is told flatly, that all the intrigue, aspirations, scheming of the past 100 or so issues is completely moot. He failed at everything, and wasn't even there to see it happen or do anything about it. He is told, with finality, that his life will amount to nothing, and he will soon die - alone, unmourned, unloved. All of which would be bad enough, but the crushing reminder that he has no moral authority left to argue against this outcome after his rape of Astoria. The page and a half of the judge walking away into the bleak landscape of the moon is wonderful. Cerebus is alone with his guilt and self-loathing.
It's a rare emotion - one that doesn't get conveyed in any medium that often - the hidden shame, the fear of being judged (worse, the fear of being judged rightly), feelings of abject unworthiness. I can only think of a couple other examples that even come close (Joel's memory of killing a helpless animal in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Leland's guilt at the first time he let BOB inside of him in Twin Peaks), but neither comes close to this. This is, effectively, the fear of being condemned to Hell for something you know you did and you knew was wrong.
I can certainly see why the Wachowski Bros. tried to rip off this scene.
This post is going to be chock-full of spoilers, so those who are concerned about such things may want to stop reading now.
Earlier, I was a little confused by the narrative decision to make Cerebus a rapist. As mentioned, it certainly allowed Sim to deal with some religious issues, and ended up revealing more about the character of Cerebus than one might expect, but it seemed like a pretty drastic step in turning your readership against your protagonist.
All of that became much more clear in the end of Church & State. Cerebus, having walked out of Astoria's trial to climb a giant tower to meet God, ends up on the moon talking with the Judge from Jules Feiffer's Little Murders. After the judge reveals that the world will end in 6000 years (which puts the events of Cerebus right about at the start date of the planet acc'd to the fundamentalists), Cerebus asks about his own destiny.
These three pages are some of the best I've read in a long while. Cerebus is told flatly, that all the intrigue, aspirations, scheming of the past 100 or so issues is completely moot. He failed at everything, and wasn't even there to see it happen or do anything about it. He is told, with finality, that his life will amount to nothing, and he will soon die - alone, unmourned, unloved. All of which would be bad enough, but the crushing reminder that he has no moral authority left to argue against this outcome after his rape of Astoria. The page and a half of the judge walking away into the bleak landscape of the moon is wonderful. Cerebus is alone with his guilt and self-loathing.
It's a rare emotion - one that doesn't get conveyed in any medium that often - the hidden shame, the fear of being judged (worse, the fear of being judged rightly), feelings of abject unworthiness. I can only think of a couple other examples that even come close (Joel's memory of killing a helpless animal in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Leland's guilt at the first time he let BOB inside of him in Twin Peaks), but neither comes close to this. This is, effectively, the fear of being condemned to Hell for something you know you did and you knew was wrong.
I can certainly see why the Wachowski Bros. tried to rip off this scene.
posted by padgett at
10:00 AM
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