Fables #149

See, Fate? This is why no one likes you. While we still have no idea how this whole generational power struggle in Rose and Snow’s family started, other than a vague reference to a primordial goddess, it’s pretty clear that there are other forces keeping it going. Annoying, to say the least, especially when fratricide is involved. But defying fate is the greatest challenge of all, and success in that regard is usually the sweetest kind of all.

Obviously, that didn’t work out so well for Lauda, who thought to circumvent fate by cleverness. Her elaborate manipulations to take herself out of her sisters’ battles merely minimize her personal number of casualties to one instead of twelve, and her clever idea of having only one child (so as to prevent another’s death) leads to the delivery of twins, an outcome so obvious that even Rose is disgusted: Goddamnit Mom, anyone could have seen that twist coming.”

That said, it’s ambiguous whether Lauda was truly sincere in her desire to get away from it all. On the one hand, Rose’s cricket companion reveals that for years, her mom rejected “the constant urges to hunt and kill her own. Until the clamor to act boldly, to rend and destroy, had died down to a small whisper in the background of her mind.” But can we really believe that she cheated on her deal to her sisters just to “make my life in exile a bit more comfortable”? I predicted last issue that she maybe held onto her share of power all along, preparing for the eventuality that the final surviving sister would come, and nothing in the way events play out disproves that theory. It’s up to us to decide whether fate was at work or Lauda never lost her residual desire for the power.

I don’t know about you, but I’m leaning towards the latter. Rose and Snow have spent years—whole ages—squabbling and vying with each other, but not in the bloodthirsty, sadistic way Lauda and her sisters did. Of course, this could be just because this entire plot is ill-conceived, but giving Willingham the benefit of the doubt, it suggests that Rose and Snow have the most capability to resist the call to murder than any of their predecessors.

Unfortunately, Rose seems to have lost all desire to resist. Not only did she reject the chance to live in blissful ignorance and spare herself and Snow from heartache, she’s surprisingly practical about the lot handed her. Now that she knows she has to fight Snow, she plans to use every advantage at her disposal, including her knowledge of what’s really going on and her control over Bigby. She’s not gutsy enough to openly challenge Snow, but plans something far more emotionally destructive, followed by conquest. So Rose is basically the villain here, and it’s mostly down to her. You don’t see Snow engaging in this kind of plotting. She’s too focused on protecting her own family—which is different, isn’t it? Maybe there’s a magical side-effect to bearing children, passing on her power and perhaps power-lust to others; maybe her love is too strong to spare any effort to killing Rose.

Buckingham’s art is really Buckish this issue. Translation: it often looks good, very rarely great.

Of all the Last Stories we’ve gotten thus far, Briar Rose’s feels the most satisfying, maybe because her story really does come to an end (unlike the open-ended tales for Jack, Prince Charming, Beauty and Bliss, etc.) and because her ending has more purpose to it than usual. Briar has always managed to take what should have been a weakening trait—her sleep curse—and turn it into a strength, which she does here, sparing her from a grisly doom and saving the universe at the same time. Well done, Briar. Much respect. Christie Zullo’s picture book art makes it clear the Last Story has its tongue in cheek, which seems right for its darkly comedic tone.

Some Musings:

– Not much to say about Rose and Snow’s dad, except he seemed like a nice if unfortunate guy, which is a good kind of dad to have lost, if you’re going to lose one.