Preacher by Garth Ennis, with artwork by Steve Dillon
Comic books have always been the one area of geekery I was never into very much. I loved Batman and liked Spider-Man, but that was about it. However, the wonders of the Internet (and the ol' local library) have introduced me to many comic series I've enjoyed greatly. My favorite of the lot is the most beloved series of the 1990s, Preacher.
Preacher follows Jesse Custer, a small-town Texas preacher who isn't the biggest fan of God these days. While delivering a sermon, Jesse is accidentally possessed by a creature called Genesis, which is the spawn of an unnatural affair between an angel and a demon. The main side effect of this possession is the Word of God, a power enabling Jesse to give absolute commands to anyone or anything, living or dead. Using this power, he learns God abandoned Heaven the moment Genesis was conceived, and thus Jesse makes it his mission to find God and demand to know why he's let the world go to hell. He's joined on this journey by his ex-girlfriend, Tulip O'Hare, and a hard-drinking Irishman named Cassidy, who has some dark secrets up his sleeve.
The story is kind of weird and convoluted, but it really isn't what makes Preacher great. What really makes the series so wonderful is that it's the perfect example of the type of balls to the wall serial storytelling that the best comic books are known for. I read the series via the trade paperbacks, and I was STILL gasping and mouthing, "Holy shit, I wonder what's going to happen next??" whenever I got to the end of an issue. Mind, this is when I could literally turn the page in a second and immediately find out the conclusion of a certain storyline. I can't imagine what it must have been like getting to the end of an issue and having to wait another month to resolve a particularly brutal cliffhanger. The closest I can muster is having to wait to get through the wild cliffhangers Lost throws at people every week.
What also makes Preacher a ton of fun is that it's a heartfelt tribute to a dying genre: the western. Lots of people poo poo westerns, but I've always had a soft spot for them. The rugged, barren settings; the bizarre mixing of black and white morality and shades of gray morality; the larger-than-life heroes and villains; and so on. I also like that the series unapologetically lets its heroes be ass kicking machines. That's not to say they're boring, untouchable Gary Stu/Mary Sue-type - they definitely take their lumps and get grinded into the ground enough to where you say, "Man ... that's horrible." But when they make their comebacks, well, let's just say they don't fuck around. It's fantastic.
And the villains, wow. In Garth Ennis' words, the villains are "a bunch of shits." There's absolutely no good in any of them - they're all evil, hateful bastards. Watching these people do their thing reminds me how much fun it is to root against a truly slimy, horrible villain. Weirdly enough, though, the best of them, The Saint of Killers, isn't someone I actively rooted against, at least not as much as I did some of the more horrible of the lot. He's more someone I was in awe of the whole story. Essentially, the Saint is Clint Eastwood from the final 20 minutes of Unforgiven transformed into a comic book character. That's a winning formula in my book.
My only problem with the series is Vol. 7, which is basically a filler arc (and not one that's as fun or interesting as the side stories in Vol. 4). There are some good moments, and Jesse is as kickass as always, but the main villain is my least favorite in the series. That doesn't take away from the series as a whole, however. The story moves at a lightning pace and never stops being fun or shocking the reader with fantastic plot twists and great character turns. Preacher is amazingly violent, sexual, and darker than black (*wink*).
Really, if you enjoy comics and haven't read Preacher, then you should stop wasting your time here and get on that. Even if you're not a comic fan, though, this might be the series to convert you - or it might just be the diamond in a bucket of shit. Who knows, really.
