By: Brian Azzarello (story), Eduardo Risso (art)
The Story: Lono has his own temptation in the desert.
The Review: This just tells you how much I take comments to heart, but I still remember the somewhat vitriolic reaction one JamesLM had when, in my review of Wonder Woman #8, I compared Azzarello’s writing to Earnest Hemingway’s. What I was talking about, of course, was the sparseness of their writing styles, not their respective literary brilliance. If you must know, I still believe Azzarello has one of the most effective minimalist writing styles around.
I think more than a lot of writers in the comic book biz, Azzarello appreciates that one’s choice of words can convey meaning that is independent of their actual substance. For people like me, whose life’s work is the parsing of words to find the layers of meaning within, there’s nothing better than reading over what seems like an inconsequential, passing moment, and realizing how important it is to the story’s development.
Take the exchange Father Manny has with Paulo just before the priest steps out to confront Cráneo. “Protect our children” is his quiet instruction. Notice: “our.” It’s an inclusive pronoun that at once confirms Paulo’s re-acceptance into the fold and also expresses a delivery of responsibility to Paulo. In the Bible, the position of eldest son carries a huge amount of weight, and Manny’s gentle command is exhorting Paulo to take up that position—because that’s what Paulo is. The troubled gangsta practically validates that notion when he responds by addressing Manny as, “Father, I can’t—”
“You must,” Manny says. In that moment, the priest is calling upon the power of a venerated relationship to bind Paulo to his duty. All this in just three short lines and eight words. See what I mean?
As you can see, the specter of religious tradition is pervasive throughout this series, influencing the characters’ actions even when Azzarello doesn’t call attention to it. Consider Cráneo’s demand that Paulo step out from the orphanage because “I don’t want to fuck it in a church!” This is a man who wears the devil’s number on his brow, who doesn’t hesitate to kill in the most gruesome way possible for the least offense, yet he still has a lingering fear of exposing himself to God in His house.
Throughout this series, Azzarello has always been equivocal about whether God truly exists. Even when he addresses the point directly, he doesn’t take a stand one way or another: “[W]e believe in God because we are too terrified not to.” This statement resonates with something Manny says towards the end of the issue, as he prepares to chase after Lono, his latest prodigal son. He admits that Lono’s first confession “scared me. Deeply,” and dismisses the idea that Cráneo has any power to truly harm Lono because “[o]nly God can torture the devil.” In this case, Manny must believe God exists, for if He doesn’t, who else can restrain a force of nature like Lono? The fact that Lono’s has been torturing himself in all the preceding issues solely from his newfound religious convictions is the best evidence that there is a God after all.
This is a lot of thought-provoking material, but it comes at the cost of underdeveloping certain parts of the plot. The revelation of June as a DEA agent doesn’t do much to shift the story off its barreling course, and June herself is little more than a distraction amidst the powerful tensions exchanged by the men around her.* At times, too, Azzarello falls back on repetitive vagaries to fill out the spaces in the issue; that mocking monologue running over Lono’s car chase through the desert is mostly a showboating reiteration of all the self-loathing thoughts Lono’s already had about who he is and how he’s changed from what he used to be.
Like Azzarello with his words, Risso plays with a minimum of elements in his art. He draws only what you need to see, such that the few props and details he puts onto the page are not there simply to flesh out the world, but because they need to be. There’s a panel of Lono glaring at his rear-view mirror; is he brooding over what he sees in the mirror, or at the little figurine of the Lady of Guadalupe, dangling from a chain wrapped around the mirror? This is an artistic depiction of the question of whether Lono hates the faith that has made him weak or the people tempting him to go back to when he was strong. Risso may not have the prettiest art on the books, but it certainly is profound.
Conclusion: A lot of food for thought produced from a few ingredients, though Azzarello leaves too much to extrapolation rather than providing the substance himself.
Grade: B+
– Minhquan Nguyen
Some Musings: * On the other hand, all that time playing the nun has had its effect. Despite Paulo exposing her, June overlooks both his action and his background to reassure him that Cráneo will get him only “[o]ver my dead body.”
Grade
Conclusion