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A review by vigneswara_prabhu
The Punisher MAX: Born by Garth Ennis
3.0
I'm not a big fan of Marvel comics, especially in their current SJW/ PC culture iteration. No offense, but I feel, much like the late Stan Lee, that while social issues do play a part in the narrative, content is king. But Marvel comics in their current iteration, have thrown out the narrative and focused entirely on political messaging. That is neither here nor there. But, I digress.
The character of Frank Castle is someone whom I had a special liking to, back to the days of the 2004 movie starring Thomas Jane, the 2008 version with Ray Stevenson, then again in the recent TV Series with Jon Bernthal. Perhaps, it was the allure of an antihero who was not constrained by the no killing morality which plagued most others in the field, or the tragic backstory and trauma of the character which drove him into darkness, but Punisher was like an alternate version of Bruce Wayne, one who was willing to cross that line, who had taken the easy choice, and let the darkness in. It made me realize how, in comparison, the reason why I loved Batman, was because of how he was tethering the line, which Frank Castle had rushed across with abandon.
Frank Castle's origin story is one much familiar to readers, a man, a retired soldier, who lost his family to gang violence, he swears to bring unholy vengeance upon those who took everything away from him, and all other human scum who bring pain and suffering to others. One who believes that the true justice is to rid the world of these animals.
The current tale, aptly titled 'Punisher: Born', gives us a glimpse of the person who was, not necessary how he became the dark angel of vengeance, but how the darkness was always there, underneath, tempered by his loved ones, but waiting for an outlet to take over and strike. Frank Castle, a jaded, tough nut Captain stationed at Firebase Valley Forge, a remote Strategic, undersupplied, and undermanned outpost at the Vietnam-Cambodian border.
Although called an outpost, by the end of the war, it had begun a den of shell-shocked soldiers, green untested recruits and drugged up junkies, who want to do nothing more than to forget the world, and wait for the day that their tour ends.
Really, the only ones still fighting, are Captain Castle's 20 odd group of veterans, taking the fight to the VC albeit reluctantly. Leading from the forefront, Frank Castle is a beast born and bred for war, who gives no quarters to their enemies. He is doing his duty, keeping his soldiers alive, and maintaining peace and order in the region, against insurgents whose aim is to destabilize the nation. Yet even as he speaks these words, to himself and to his team, no one has any delusions as to his true intentions. Frank Castle wants war, needs it like the junkies who are jonesing for a fix. After three tours, war is what he is good at, and all he knows; perhaps the notion of peace and stability unnerve him.
None of that matters however, as his small band of men are picked off one after the other, culminating in a night offensive by the NVA which utterly annihilates the unit, until Castle is the only one standing. All through the days, perhaps all through his time fighting, there is this inner voice which haunts Castle, which eggs him on to justify his endless thirst for violence. That night, amidst the dead, blood, smoke and fire Castle lets go, and lets the other take over.
When reinforcements come the next day, they find him the lone survivor surrounded by bodies of allies and enemies, physically fine, but mentally shattered, having let out the metaphorical beast which delves in all men. And even when he is with his family, this beast unleashed is present in his periphery, awaiting the right catalyst to once again take over.
In encountering Castle's inner voice of violence, I found myself remembering the psychosis of Rorschach, as well as Dexter's dark passenger. But more directly, I was able to get parallels with the broken trainer K, from '[b:The Boxer|53900459|The Boxer|jh|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1591622005l/53900459._SX50_.jpg|84249117]' manhwa. K was similarly the jaded combat veteran who had suffered from irreparable trauma, both from the war as well as from losing his family to an accident. K, had come to the conclusion, that human suffering, and violence, and the domination which this wrought was the truest form of assertion of life. Castle on the other hand, chooses a different much similar violent path.
The art style is quite gorgeous, for a Marvel comic; something about the contrast of the lush greens of the South East Asian jungle, with the crimson blood which gets illuminated from gunfire. As well as the bleak twilight accentuated by the sense of abandonment, loss of hope, reason and purpose.
Not a bad read for a Sunday afternoon.
The character of Frank Castle is someone whom I had a special liking to, back to the days of the 2004 movie starring Thomas Jane, the 2008 version with Ray Stevenson, then again in the recent TV Series with Jon Bernthal. Perhaps, it was the allure of an antihero who was not constrained by the no killing morality which plagued most others in the field, or the tragic backstory and trauma of the character which drove him into darkness, but Punisher was like an alternate version of Bruce Wayne, one who was willing to cross that line, who had taken the easy choice, and let the darkness in. It made me realize how, in comparison, the reason why I loved Batman, was because of how he was tethering the line, which Frank Castle had rushed across with abandon.
Frank Castle's origin story is one much familiar to readers, a man, a retired soldier, who lost his family to gang violence, he swears to bring unholy vengeance upon those who took everything away from him, and all other human scum who bring pain and suffering to others. One who believes that the true justice is to rid the world of these animals.
The current tale, aptly titled 'Punisher: Born', gives us a glimpse of the person who was, not necessary how he became the dark angel of vengeance, but how the darkness was always there, underneath, tempered by his loved ones, but waiting for an outlet to take over and strike. Frank Castle, a jaded, tough nut Captain stationed at Firebase Valley Forge, a remote Strategic, undersupplied, and undermanned outpost at the Vietnam-Cambodian border.
Although called an outpost, by the end of the war, it had begun a den of shell-shocked soldiers, green untested recruits and drugged up junkies, who want to do nothing more than to forget the world, and wait for the day that their tour ends.
Really, the only ones still fighting, are Captain Castle's 20 odd group of veterans, taking the fight to the VC albeit reluctantly. Leading from the forefront, Frank Castle is a beast born and bred for war, who gives no quarters to their enemies. He is doing his duty, keeping his soldiers alive, and maintaining peace and order in the region, against insurgents whose aim is to destabilize the nation. Yet even as he speaks these words, to himself and to his team, no one has any delusions as to his true intentions. Frank Castle wants war, needs it like the junkies who are jonesing for a fix. After three tours, war is what he is good at, and all he knows; perhaps the notion of peace and stability unnerve him.
None of that matters however, as his small band of men are picked off one after the other, culminating in a night offensive by the NVA which utterly annihilates the unit, until Castle is the only one standing. All through the days, perhaps all through his time fighting, there is this inner voice which haunts Castle, which eggs him on to justify his endless thirst for violence. That night, amidst the dead, blood, smoke and fire Castle lets go, and lets the other take over.
When reinforcements come the next day, they find him the lone survivor surrounded by bodies of allies and enemies, physically fine, but mentally shattered, having let out the metaphorical beast which delves in all men. And even when he is with his family, this beast unleashed is present in his periphery, awaiting the right catalyst to once again take over.
In encountering Castle's inner voice of violence, I found myself remembering the psychosis of Rorschach, as well as Dexter's dark passenger. But more directly, I was able to get parallels with the broken trainer K, from '[b:The Boxer|53900459|The Boxer|jh|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1591622005l/53900459._SX50_.jpg|84249117]' manhwa. K was similarly the jaded combat veteran who had suffered from irreparable trauma, both from the war as well as from losing his family to an accident. K, had come to the conclusion, that human suffering, and violence, and the domination which this wrought was the truest form of assertion of life. Castle on the other hand, chooses a different much similar violent path.
The art style is quite gorgeous, for a Marvel comic; something about the contrast of the lush greens of the South East Asian jungle, with the crimson blood which gets illuminated from gunfire. As well as the bleak twilight accentuated by the sense of abandonment, loss of hope, reason and purpose.
Not a bad read for a Sunday afternoon.