This column normally takes a
look at obscure comics. For every every sixth month, instead of
taking a look at a comic that nobody talks about, this special
edition will take a look at a comic I feel not enough people
talk about.
Glory by Joe Keatinge and
Sophie Campbell – Image 2012 – 2013
Contains Heavy Spoilers
I first heard about Glory at
New York Comic Con in 2012. I was attending an Image Comics panel,
mainly to see Rob Kirkman, but ultimately it was Rob Liefeld and Joe
Keatinge who had more interesting things to say.
The panel coincided with the
announcement that Image would be running a line of revivals from
Liefeld's Extreme comics line. The first shown was a panel from the
first issue of Glory. It featured a broad, beefcake of a woman
punching a turret from a Nazi tank. I knew, from that panel alone,
that this was a series I was going to check out.
A big deal was made out on
how the Extreme characters would not reboot with #1 issues, instead
continuing on the number their 90's incarnations left off on. Glory
was a sort of soft-reboot, but in practical terms the new series was
it's entirely it's own thing.
Now let's not beat around
the bush, there wasn't anything particularly interesting about most
of Liefeld's early Image characters. Most were just cribbed from
Marvel or DC with the serial numbers filed off. No disrespect to Rob
intended, but it's true, and Glory was no different, little more than
a Wonder Woman knock off with even more fanservice.
Rob was always good at
laying foundations though (see Deadpool) and that seems to be the
mandate that Image approached the Extreme line with it's relaunch.
Take the baseline of Liefeld's characters and turn them into
something much, much more interesting.
That line of thinking is
clear with what Keatinge and Campbell did with Glory. All the
fanservice was thrown out, and the visualisation of an indestructible
Amazon warrior was approached from a completely different direction.
Glory was now a mass of hair and muscle, with a face that looked as
though it had been hit by a shovel, and yet truly beautiful. She was
desensitised to the point of psychopathy, and her sexuality entirely
her own, and the violence she partakes in far from romanticised.
And Glory is a story about
violence, no doubt. The main thrust of it's story arc is the
relationship between Glory and the reporter who tracks her down,
Riley. The story jumps backwards and forwards in time, as we see the
toll a life of violence has taken on Glory through revenge and
rebellion.
In the early chapters, the
story appears to be a familiar tale of a call to action when a
character from their past reappears, in this case Glory's
presumed-dead father. But as the story continues we learn that the
civil war in which Glory fought against him was far more complex than
previously thought.
Ironically, the message that
Keatinge and Campbell communicate through both the writing and the
art is that there is no glory in violence. Whether the cause is just
or unjust, blood still splatters across panels and limbs are broken
in twain. Jaws are punched out of skulls and bodies are pulped beyond
recognition. As the body-count increases, it becomes ever apparent
that this is the path Glory set on centuries ago, and it's far too
late to turn back now.
Or is it? That's where
Riley's role in the plot really begins to play it's part. Above all
else Riley believes that there is more to Glory than her role in
violent conflict, that there is a person under all the muscle and
veins that increasingly expand as the comic goes on.
It's a comic that uses
extreme violence in order to tell a story that is extremely sceptical
of the violence used in more conventional superhero stories,
particularly those from and inspired by the 90's era. All along the
way Glory is told that her true worth relies upon her capacity for
killing, be it for noble causes as suggested by her mother and human
allies, or for selfish ones, as suggested by her sister. Only Riley
can show Glory that there is another path.
Unfortunately, all things
come with a price, and the price of Glory's salvation is Riley's
life. In a particularly touching climax, Riley stands in the way of
Glory's berserker rage. Campbell pulls no punches in the depiction of
Riley's particularly gory death, but the emotional core of this
moment serves to communicate the shock that ultimately drives Glory
away from her path, averting a dark future and leading toward a
brighter one.
All things considered, it's
a tight, well written plot, with a point to make.
I've already praised Sophie
Campbell's art, but I think it's worth saying that she is what makes
Glory a comic all of it's own. There's something just so unique and
alive in the way she draws the characters, each diverse and instantly
recognisable. I've been a lifelong fan of Sophie's work ever since,
and if I'm ever blessed enough to break into the mainstream myself,
it'd be a dream to work with her.
Glory was originally
supposed to be much longer than it's two volume run, but Joe Keatinge
realised that he wanted to tell a shorter, tighter story. This is
good, there's no plodding or filler in Glory, it's a lean, sharp
story and gets right to the point. However, I still can't help but
feel its a shame, because what Joe and Sophie did with the character
had such heart that I really wish I had more of it.
There are also a few little
points that I feel a longer run would have given more breathing space
to. The first is Glory's sexuality. Glory makes no bones about
casually sleeping with several men over the course of the series, but
it's made abundantly clear that it's all for pleasure and nothing
else. While there's a little bit of subtext between Glory and Riley,
it's never suggested that Glory has any particular interest in women,
until the final chapter when she travels into the afterlife and meets
her one true love, Emilie.
There are multiple ways to
interpret this. Glory could be seen as bisexual, or maybe she's
homo-romantic. There's a whole spectrum she could fall under, but we
get very little time to examine it. Now that's okay, there's no
absolute necessity for the series to grace us with the specifics of
Glory's sexuality beyond what was already depicted. But I thought the
subject of Glory's sexuality, and the way it was written, was
particularity interesting, and it's something I would have enjoyed a
greater exploration of.
Likewise, the story ends on
a somewhat nihilistic point, as Glory's journey to the afterlife
involves a pact that prevents her from entering it again when she
eventually dies, ultimately denying a reunion with Riley and Emilie
both. I kind of feel this was set up as a hook for a future
plot-line, left for whoever felt like picking up the character in
future. However, it's been three years since, and no such return is
in sight.
So really, my two complaints
both boil down to the fact that there isn't more Glory, so in a
sense, that's a compliment. Still, I can't deny the book's brevity is
an asset, and now that you can pick up the collected edition as a
single volume it gets the highest possible recommendation from me.
Glory is the finest example
of a character reinvention. It's smart, it's slick, it has important
things to say, and it does it all in just twelve issues. Glorious.
Jack Harvey 2016. Glory (c)
2012 Rob Liefeld and was written by Joe Keatinge and Sophie Campbell.
Images used under free use.
