Images & Words – Joe the Barbarian #7
[images & words is the comic book pick-of-the-week at OL. equal parts review and diatribe, the post highlights the most memorable/infuriating/entertaining book released that wednesday]
Sometimes I feel as though I might be some sort of alien entity, a stranger without a tribe. It’s easy to fall for this illusion as our culture puts so much emphasis on the individual. You are so special. There is no one quite like you. After all, you are one of a kind. And while I understand the motives behind the self-esteem movement, I find the outcomes disastrous; instead of being taught to help one another because we’re all crew members on Spaceship Earth, individuals come to see themselves as completely separate.
And not even fragmented sections of a whole. Different from, and incapable of relating to, others. But my hippie-sense is telling me that there aren’t really any others, just anothers.
Okay, let me pause for a moment as I dance on this fine line. I’m not saying that humanity is a homogeneous being or that every person is identical. Really, I’m not. Truth be told, I think the way that the mouth-breathing masses develop is quite different than those upon whom I heap admiration. There are all different shades of humanity. But sometimes I forget that the progressing hues all reside on the same gradient scale.
So why is my newfound interest in commonality making its way onto OL? Well, because I love Joe the Barbarian. And I love the comic because it reminds me that there are shared facets of the human experience.
Throughout the first seven issues of the series, Joe has hallucinated himself into a battle-for-the-ages with King Death. Part of this fight is seen from Joe’s altered perspective, trying to ward off diabetic shock while engaging with action figures and the fantastic creatures of his imagination. On the other hand, reality is acknowledged as Joe is occasionally shown stumbling through his house. He’s frightened, bewildered and unsure of what he should do.
He knows that needs to get some sugar in his system or else he will be in major trouble. But feels as though he owes it to the fantasies of his childhood to help them with their apocalyptic showdown. What’s more important, doing what has been explained to be right or following the more childlike pursuits of one’s heart?
This is exactly what Joe is trying to figure out in this comic. With his army of toys and imaginary warriors by his side, Joe heads towards King Death’s keep and the under-country. Moving through the labyrinth of the lost, the forces of good are ambushed by zombies. But hell, they should’ve known this would happen. After all, consider King Death’s modus operandi:
A monster?
A God?
All I know is the fountain of life dried up where his shadow fell.
He commands the living to fall…
…And the dead to rise!
Again, this issue sees Joe the Barbarian, aka the Dying Boy, at an ultimate crossroads. He’s finally reached the soda he’s needed to smooth over his diabetic (brain) wrinkles, but perceives it as the single drop of Aqua Vitae that could save the life of the (imaginary) warrior Adamark. What is Joe to do? He’s fallen into the tomb of the Iron Knight, which may very well be the basement full of his deceased father’s belongings. What is more important – living for reality or dying for fantasy?
Grant Morrison and Sean Murphy are onto something really special with this series. This story is just so damn earnest that it hurts. I really believe that Joe the Barbarian is a working definition of what fantasy should be; a tale that employs impossibilities and surrealities to convey familiar sentiments and scenarios. Hell, the story itself even acknowledges this – the entire realm of the protagonist’s adventure, although seemingly like a world until itself, is actually set inside the confines of his troubled home.
At the end of the day, aren’t we all just like Joe? Who among us hasn’t felt like a scared little kid? Doesn’t sickness enter all of our lives at some point or another? Don’t all of us long for loved ones who’ve left us? Haven’t we all retreated into our daydreams when life got a bit rough around the edges?
We are all Joe. We are all barbarians. Hacking through the thick jungles of reality and fantasy to discover our truths.
