When you’re the only survivors left in the world, are you ever really living? That’s the subject of this new series, check out our review of “The Beautiful Death” #1, which contains mild spoilers
Written and Illustrated by Matthieu Bablet
Translated by Edward Gauvin
Cover by Brandon GrahamThe apocalypse has been and gone. the age of humanity is at an end. Horrifying insectile aliens from the depths of infinite space are now masters of the earth!
What does resistance mean, when there’s nothing left to fight for? That’s what Wayne, Jeremiah, and Soham, the only survivors of the devastating invasion, struggle with – seeking a glimpse of a future that justifies their futile presence on a ruined world.
As they pick through the remains of human civilization, keeping out of reach of the bugs, none of them suspect that they are part of a much larger plan, one that involves another, unknown survivor…
When the apocalypse is covered in fiction (and it’s covered often, it’s a very popular subject,) the focus more often than not seems to be on the end of the world itself and not on the start of something else. Even “The Walking Dead,” famed for its concept of exploring the world after the end credits of your average zombie movie have rolled. What happens next is its intended focus, but it still falls short of actually capturing the overwhelming silence and the pervading melancholy that would come to dominate the lives of the few remaining survivors.
“The Beautiful Death” drops any pretense of exciting, post-apocalyptic wars for the last remaining supplies, or battles against hordes of enemies while learning that the real enemy was man all along. Instead, this first issue of a four-part series explores the quiet mundanity of such extraordinary circumstances, as well as the almost claustrophobic sadness of knowing without a shadow of a doubt that this is all that there is. “The Beautiful Death” is not an action-packed book, nor does it try to even be interesting. What it does is show you a group of characters wandering from building to building, area to area, looking for supplies. This issue ends with them finding a place to perhaps settle down, but otherwise, nothing else happens.
That’s not to say that this isn’t utterly gripping because it is. It’s a compelling sort of mundanity, and while the characters themselves aren’t particularly interesting or even likable, their world and their situation are made all the more fascinating by being so boringly real. If they spent the issue fighting and running and spouting the usual cliches (“We ARE the Walking Dead!!”) then it wouldn’t be half as interesting. Plus, any more speech balloons would distract from the obscenely spectacular artwork.
Matthieu Bablet revels in scale; by showing the cast of characters as small figures on vast, decaying urban landscapes, he’s accentuating that isolation in a way that words never could. The opening scene (sort of a prologue before “chapter one” begins) is almost wordless. Instead, we follow a nameless man as he wanders, silently weeping throughout a vast sprawl of empty buildings, picking at the remains of a long-lost civilization. The panels frequently expand to cover half or even full pages, and in almost every case the figure is not the main focus. The city, or rather what’s left of it, is truly the star of this book. Highlighting the world left behind and choosing that as the main thrust of the art just captures the idea that these people are nothing, have nothing, and whose lives are fairly meaningless now. To further lean into this idea, the characters themselves aren’t as well drawn as their surroundings. It’s a subtle thing, really, and maybe Bablet is better at depicting landscapes rather than people, but it seems like another conscious effort to prioritize the ghost-town of a city in order to enhance that feeling of perpetual loneliness.
“The Beautiful Death” is part of Titan Comics’ line of foreign language books, newly translated – in this case by Edward Gauvin – and released into the American market. With that in mind, this issue feels achingly European, both in its structure and in its narrative. There’s a sense of pacing that a lot of European creators go for, that serves the characters rather than the script, and that’s evidenced here. While the minimalist cast may not be the stars of the book, their mundane struggle for survival and their search (or desperate apathy towards) the purpose of it all is certainly the focus, and while this book could have been overlayed with a meandering, puffy narration about the futility of existence and the search for life when surrounded by death, it’s entirely unnecessary. What’s more, the book talks of the insects causing the apocalypse, but barely shows them. We see the shadow of one as the characters are briefly chased through the streets, but that’s it. The reason is that it’s really not what this is about.
What “The Beautiful Death” does depict is the bleak, meaningless existence of life after the end of the world. All too often books begin after the apocalypse and show a world filled with action and monsters. Here is a book that shows us what life for the average human being would be like when there really is nothing left. The stunningly detailed, gorgeously crafted landscapes dwarf what minimal cast there is, and accentuate the vast loneliness of an empty world. This is a thoughtful, compelling book that’s no less terrifying than one filled with monsters and madmen.
Final Verdict: 9.4 – A quiet, melancholic look at survival after the end of the world, with breathtaking visuals and a superbly paced script
