The Nam, Invincible

Holy moly, have I fallen behind.  Let’s see if I can catch up.

Invincible 133-144

I somehow missed the previous trade, so I got to read the final twelve issues of the series in one go.  I won’t get too much into it, since I’ll cover it in the re-read, but damn, was this an amazing series. Invincible is about as perfect an example you can find of straight up superhero comics.  It skews a little older with its treatment of themes like sex and violence, and it feels more honest in that sense.

The final story arc is suitably epic, and the ending is as satisfying as I could have hoped for.  Can’t wait to revisit the whole thing.

The Nam 49-81, 83, 84.

I’m missing issue 82.  I tore through 83 issues in 7 days.  The Nam rarely impressed me, but it never bored me either.  I have to say that the series read better once Doug Murray stepped down as writer and his successors began writing multi-issue arcs.  That structural change allowed for deeper storylines, giving them more time to develop.

When Murray left, he also took his opposition to Frank Castle’s presence in the comic with him.  I can understand his desire to keep The Nam as realistic as possible, but Garth Ennis has shown that there are plenty of excellent Vietnam/Castle war stories out there.  

The ones that show up in The Nam are decent.  Issues 52 and 53 recount a sniper vs sniper showdown between Castle and The Monkey.  It’s reminiscent of the sniper duels in Stephen Hunter’s excellent Bob Lee Swagger novels (even if it came three years earlier).  I best liked the section where Castle crawls into position. Roger Salick’s writing effectively illustrates the combination of tedium and tension that is constantly in play:

800 yards on my toes and elbows.  The grass can’t move, can’t be crushed, or they’ll spot me.  Been crawling for five hours now, one inch at a time. Never worked this hard in my life.  Every time I move, I’ve got to straighten out the grass behind me with the toe of my boot. Takes forever.

If only Salick and Chuck Dixon (who wrote the story in issues 67-69), didn’t feel the need to use the word “punish” in every single issue where Castle appears.  “He is something else...a punisher.” “He punished them.” “Just dying was too easy. He had to be punished.” “He was here to punish.” Gaaaah, we get it. Really don’t need to be smacked over and over with the obvious stick.

Jimmy Palmiotti inks a good chunk of The Nam towards the end.  I didn’t know before this that he’s a style-stomper - Kevin Kobasic’s art here looks a lot like Joe Quesada’s art, which is frequently inked by Palmiotti.  Which is also a little odd, because Quesada looks like himself even when inked by other people. Maybe Palmiotti just inks other people to look like Quesada…

In any case, here are Kobasic and Palmiotti doing a Frank Miller impression.

Bandaids all over the place.

And speaking of Quesada, he did a Nam cover too:

Issue 66 stood out as a stand alone issue that I really liked.  It tells the story of The Creep, a social pariah who finds his calling as a sniper.  His backstory is nothing particularly original, but Chuck Dixon tells it in a way that’s still sucks me in.  I love reading about a master sniper, just like I love hyper-accurate archers. I wonder if it’s ‘because’ or ‘why’ I like playing those classes in video games or RPGs.  The idea of one shot, one kill from a place of relative safety greatly appeals to me. Does that speak to cowardly tendencies in my nature? Or is it the ultimate extension of the belief that “the more unfair the better” when it comes to fighting.  

Total digression.  Moving on to issue 75, which focuses on the My Lai massacre.  It utterly fails as a comic - the editor starts the issue with a full page essay by Lee Russell, which details the atrocities committed at My Lai.  Unfortunately, there was nothing in the subsequent 46 pages that the first didn’t already educate me about. The first story repeats the facts from the essay, adding a fascinating tidbit about the photographer who chronicled the incident.  The second story is a useless presentation of strawman arguments told in the context of a radio talk show, always a good forum for intelligent discussion. And the final story tells the story of the photographer we just learned about, which just feels redundant.

I did like the artistic storytelling of the monk’s self-immolation.  The build up to the final act is well laid out by Alex Trimpe. It isn’t meant to be a depiction of the Pulitzer Prize-winning photo by Malcolm Browne, but it’s clearly inspired by it.  I like how Trimpe didn’t attempt to recreate the actual moment in a realistic manner, choosing to go in a more impressionistic direction that better reflects the spiritual protest that the monk was expressing.

In the final analysis, The Nam doesn’t entertain the way Ennis’ war stories do.  But judging from the letter column, it did a world of good for a lot of vets, telling their side of a war that many would just as soon forget.  For that alone, it’s worth keeping around.

His name was Thich Quang Duc.

Regret buying? No

Would buy again? No

Would read again? Yes

Rating: Fine