It’s apparent, if not overtly stated, that some time has
passed since the dramatic events of the last volume. Rick and Tyreese have
settled on a… at least fake friendly relationship; it’s cordial if nothing
else. People are getting on, people are getting by. There’s almost a sense of
this is what life could be like for them if all goes well. They focus on more
mundane issues – like the vegetable garden and with the stress damped down a
little they begin to mend some of the rifts pulled open by their damaged
psyches. If nothing else goes wrong, you feel this is how they could live
forever, managed, calm and as close to peaceful as possible. There’s still
ripples – such as Carol’s need to be accepted by Lori and Rick – but they’re
not disrupting how they live.
This gives us a great chance to see what they’ve lost –
not through moping and regret, but through what they enjoy. The novelty and
wonder of the library and having books to read, or the luxury of having
electricity, or the anticipation of having fresh vegetables really bring home
how little of the trappings we take for granted they have left; even Patricia’s
joy in picture books just to see something else, something different. It’s a
segment I like a lot.
Then there’s Woodbury which brings with it a lot of
reflection on Rick’s previous actions. Yes the Governor is a monster in all
sense of the word – but it’s apparent that a monster is something he became and
he wasn’t always like that (this is a theme we’ve seen continued in both the special
and The
Rise of the Govenor). It’s easy to see the Governor’s descent as a warning
to Rick of what he could become with his recent mantra of having
to kill to live and be ruthless to survive. It equally begs the question of
the others asking what they will do to survive – as we see Dr. Stevens serving
the Governor despite knowing what a monster he is.
And behind that is a low key threat that was mentioned in
passing but stands as a warning to them all – the helicopter from the news
station. Their group fell apart and they all died because the people within
couldn’t work together and allowed their mutual suspicion and hatred break them
apart and kill them all. So another threat is entered – when you and everyone
around you requires the group to be united for safety, to what extent is
rocking the boat dangerous and perhaps even suicidal? Again, this links back
well to Rick and Tyreese’s fight. This need for unity even comes round to the
Governor where at least part of his evil activities are to provide “bread and
circuses” for the crowds – because he fears that boredom can lead people to
start fighting each other.
I really quite like how all these themes and questions
circle round and overlap without ever needing to be overtly stated, but
continually reinforce each other.
This is the good stuff. Then there’s the bad
Michonne’s rape and torture is both graphic and
gratuitous. It’s unnecessary from a plot point of view and a characterisation
point of view, it’s just there for grimness. And it can’t be escaped that
Michonne is both the only Black woman and one of the few women (perhaps only
woman) who is proactive, willing to speak up and has useful combat skills. It
felt like she was specially singled out and the whole image of it cannot be
divorced from the context of her being the only Black woman there.
And I know there are people there rushing forward to say
how necessary and REALISTIC it was to show this and how evil the Governor is. I
call shenanigans. This isn’t the TV series Governor who starts all polite and
then gets steadily more evil. Within second of meeting him, the Governor has cut
off Rick’s hand, he could have beaten and tortured all three of them equally.
He feeds people to zombies. He watches them and expresses his admiration for
them. He has a wall of zombie heads. Don’t tell me we’d look at this man and
say “well he’s not a rapist, I guess he’s a pretty decent fellow.” There
reaches a point when it doesn’t matter
how many puppies your bad guy kicks, he’s already reached maximum evil. Extra
adds nothing.
Michonne is the glaring issue in this volume, but Glenn
is another secondary issue. I mentioned in Volume
4 that there were distinct undertones of the emasculation or
infantilisation of Asian men (despite him being shown as sexual which is
unusual); this volume seemed to double down on that with Michonne and Rick
being expected to look after Glenn when they went to check out the hospital
crash. Never mind the fact that it was Glenn
who saved Rick in Atlanta and has been scouting and foraging for the group
for a while. Why is Glenn the weak link here?
The plus side is that, before Woodbury, Michonne
continues to be a vocal participant, challenging limits set on her, trying to
be part of the group and help continue to bring about some healing after the
big Tyreese/Rick fight. It’s a weak thing to praise, but
the contrast is glaring.
Lori is upset about Rick randomly running off and leaving
her – again – without any explanation and then spends 2 days worried about him.
And again we’re kind of left with the same old trope – Lori has a reasonable
complaint, but it’s treated as more of her being an unreasonable, silly, angry
woman to be discounted. I also kind of want to remind her and Carol that
there’s a zombie apocalypse going on and no-one really cares about their little
soap opera.
This comic moved us on to the next big storyline and
added to the underlying fear of the real threat in the post-zombie world;
zombies may be dangerous but it’s humans doing what they feel they have to to
survive – or greedily securing their own power – that are the main threats in
this world, far more so than mere shambling monsters
Alive: Rick, Lori, Carl, Carol, Sophia, Dale,
Andrea, Billy, Ben, Tyreese, Michonne, Hershel, Billy Green, Maggie, Glenn,
Patricia, Otis, Axel,
Dead: No-one.
