The Crow: Are There Crimes That Cannot be Forgiven?

This blog is dedicated to my cousin, Christine Apa-Gonzaga

Pardon the short departure from plans in my last blog, but I now return to my reviews of The Crow. In my last blog, I talked about the character of the Crow himself, but now I’d like to deal with the major theme. The book asks whether there are crimes that can be forgiven. Implicit in that question is a certain view of justice that leaves a taste a disappointment. I will deal with both in this blog.

Two Contrasting Views of Justice

The Crow is a revenge tragedy. In a revenge tragedy, there is a view of justice that is best called retributive justice. In retributive justice, the emphasis is on the perpetrators. Those who commit crimes or injustice must be brought to account and be punished for their wickedness. This may also be done in order to prevent them from doing more crimes, but the main purpose is that they have committed some crime and they must now pay. The scales must be balanced. Typically, the perpetrators are brought to account by an avenger who acts on the victim’s behalf, but in the Crow the victim himself rises again to overpower his enemies.

Retributive justice, whether in comic books or not, contrasts with restorative justice. Restorative justice, as far as I understand it, is part Christian theology, as expounded by Jurgen Moltmann’s In the End-The Beginning: The Life of Hope. Restorative justice does not place an emphasis on the perpetrators, but rather on victims. Justice, in this case, is not concerned about balancing scales of wrongs, but rather restoring what was lost to evil. So if a person is terribly traumatized by having a loved one taken from them, restorative justice seeks to bring that loved one back or at least heal the trauma of the victim. If a relationship between two people is broken, restorative justice seeks to repair the relationship not punish who was the wrongdoer. Moltmann takes this even further as he believes that all people are victims, including those who perpetrate evil*. The wicked man who abuses his spouse was first abused as a child.

Reprobates and Tragedy in the Crow

Is there any room for forgiveness in the Crow? Not really. The Crow is merciless and wrathful, as I mentioned in an earlier blog. Already, it is clear that J. O’barr thinks that there are things that cannot be forgiven –and one can hardly fault him for his feelings. The character of Fun Boy embodies this theme.

None of the characters the Crow kills are repentant, but Fun Boy is nearly the antithesis of repentance. The ugly criminals the Crow kills all have rotten souls, but none of them have any since of self-examination to acknowledge it. Fun Boy is different. Fun boy is fully aware of his state. He is not sorry for the crimes he has done. He knows that he is monster deserving of death. Yet at no point does he ask for or presume mercy. When the Crow kills him his dying request is not “forgive me” but only “kill that bastard slow.” (He refers to T-bird, the next person the Crow intends to kill). Fun Boy’s dying request is not forgiveness, but only more hatred, of which he is fully aware of.

Not only is there no forgiveness in the Crow, but there is not even the preceding penitence either.

After the killing of Fun Boyd, the story quickly moves into its final movement of tragedy. The Crow spends one night in his loft. He burns all of his memoirs of Shelly and then shouts out the window, “Shelly I’m coming home.” He confronts his final murderer, T-bird. The Crow’s last fight scene is long, insane, and bloody. He kills not only T-bird, but everyone who works for T-bird. T-bird dies in a panic, and the final time we see him is when the Crow veers over with holding a hammer.

After the last killing, the Crow returns to grave. The final pages of the comic are still, serene, scenes of a snow covered graveyard. The Crow is dead. He rests again with Shelly. This is the tragedy of the Crow. The avenger completes his task, and then just dies.

Happy Vengence?

I can now only speak for myself, and not what the story attempts to communicate. Is there such a thing as happy vengeance? I am not sure. In the story of the Crow, every evil doer is killed. But the hero leaves the dark world to its darkness. With justice done, he returns to his grave. The ending is sad, as it leaves the reader wanting. It is not enough to know that all the murderers will no longer murder. We all want to see the happy couple alive again and the Crow free from his mourning. Anger and wrath sprinkled with kindness leave a disappointed taste in the mouth not matter how one serves up the revenge platter. This feeling of let-down seems to go beyond the novel itself: J. O’barr admitted that writing the Crow did not prove the emotional catharsis he hoped it would become.

No one can stand in judgment of the Crow or J. O’barr for the feelings they have, least of all me. Anyone who has lost someone they love has a right to feel angry and to want the murders brought to account. Yet I cannot help but think that the let-down feeling at the end of the Crow is part of the failure of retributive justice. The grief at losing a love one to murderers is to fold: the desire for that person to be back in your life, and for the death to be avenged. It seems to me, that the first is the stronger emotion. The desire to overcome our own grief is what turns into anger and wrath directed at those wicked people who hurt us. But vengeance does not remove sadness and grief from the heart of the victim. It only adds more dead bodies.

I cannot help but see the restorative justice of the Christian Gospel as the only hope for the victims of evil, both living and the dead. The Gospel tells us that God-the-Son became a victim of horrendous evil at the crucifixion. It tells us that God the Father is well acquainted with the feelings of grief and injustice. The answer is that of a Resurrection from the dead and overcoming of evil with restorative justice. Christians look forward to a glorious future in which every victim of murder, every dead prisoner from the gulags, every refugee who was gunned down by soldiers, and every martyr who was fed to lions will one die rise again in resurrected bodies and meet their savior who suffered as they dead. Death and injustice are not avenged. Death and injustice are reversed. The feelings of anger, wrath, and trauma will likewise be defeated in the all-encompassing victory of God. There will be no need for vengeance in the new heaven’s and new earth.

Behold, I will create
new heavens and a new earth.
The former things will not be remembered,
nor will they come to mind. –Isaiah 65:17

In that place, the Crow dances joyously with his untarnished bride, and the atrocity of their deaths never comes to their minds.

Thanks for reading.



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*I can never forget that Moltmann was a German soldier in WWII and knew fully the kind of evil that infected his whole society.

The Crow: Hatred Sprinkled With Kindness

I have recovered a bit of teenage goth past; I purchased a copy of The Crow by J. O’barr. I only recently read through this graphic novel, but have enjoyed the movie since I was about fifteen. Originally, I intended to write a one blog review of this book, but I realize now that I might as well do two. For those of you who don’t know, The Crow is about an anti-hero who comes back from the dead to kill all the people who killed him and his fiancée. It has many of the qualities of film noir and reminds me a bit of Frank Miller.


What made me really want to read though this was the trauma that inspired the book. J. O’barr grew up in the shit-hole ghetto of Chicago as an orphan. When he was barely out of high school, his fiancée was killed by a drunk driver. He joined the marines to deal attempt to cope. The Crow was a further attempt at a catharsis to deal with the tragedy.

Knowing this made me read the novel differently. It certainly has a very angry and raw feel to it. One does not get the impression that this comic was drawn with a clear, beautifully planned, story arc in mind. Neither do you get deeply insightful characters. You do not even get deep into the protagonist’s past and history. The comic is simply pages of anger and pain drawn in the form of an ugly hero in an ugly world doing ugly things to ugly people.

Yet all this is what makes the character, the Crow, so interesting. On one hand, he is abjectly and unashamedly hateful. This first comes out vividly when he kills his first mark, Tin-tin. The Crow gives him a few aphorisms on the rottenness of his soul (and it surely is) and then stands over the body and says, “may God grant you the mercy that I cannot.” His second kill is a fellow by the name of Top Dollar. Top Dollar is in a meeting with other unsavory cronies. The Crow mocks them by coming in the window and declaring himself Santa Claus and they’ve all been very bad. The killing of the entire group of criminals could only be described as a bloody wrathful mess. Top Dollar attempts to barter for his life, but the Crow ignores him. He shoots top through the eye first and finishes him with another shot.

This is not the killing-style of a shrewd, professional, assassin. It is plain vigilante rage that is almost animal. It is human only that it is fueled by emotions that only humans have.

On the other side, the Crow shows politeness and even compassion. Right after killing Top Dollar, the Crow walks casually down a hall, turns back and winks and an old lady and politely says “Good evening ma’am.” The compassion comes out even stronger when he meets the victimized little girl named Sherri. Sherri’s mother is busy having sex for drugs. Sherri, who looks about twelve, is neglected and without a childhood. The Crow takes compassion on her and gives her a necklace that belonged to his dead fiancée and it is the first gift this little girl has ever received.

His compassion for Sherri is exemplified when he meets her mother, who is bed with the morphine addict Fun Boy. Sherri’s mother is panicked and scared, but the Crow touches her gently on the head and says, “Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of every child. Your daughter is waiting for you on the streets.” When the Crow kills Tin-tin, Top Dollar, and Tom-tom, he is unconcerned about collateral damage, but for Sherri’s account he slows down just little bit and waits for the mother to leave.

Right before the Crow goes to kill his final mark, and prepares himself for his own funeral, he visits Sherri one last time. Without spoiling the moment for those who have not read the book, I can only say that the Crow shows gentleness one last time and eliminates one other “problem” in her life. He even finds a way to ensure that someone else will look out for her in the dark, shit-hole, of a world that the comic takes place in.

That is the first part of my thoughts on The Crow. In my next blog, I will talk about its overall questions: “are there crimes that can never be forgiven?” and “Is there such a thing as happy vengeance?”

Thanks for reading.

“Cur Custodes Legatis” or “You Should Read Watchmen”

I have a strange relationship with comics. On one hand, I am sometimes annoyed with people who think it is really important to argue whether Superman is faster than The Flash or whether Iron Man could win in a fight with the Rust-Monster Queen or some other nonsense. Yet, I authored a comic for about three years and I never deny that comic books can be good genre to tell a story. Back on the other hand, I still think many comics are cheesy and adolescent.

So maybe my problem with comics is their fans, or maybe that so few comics have great stories. Or perhaps I am a judgmental hypocrite.

Anyway, on to my recent reading of Watchmen

Watchmen is good. Watchmen is very good. I by no means claim to be a comic book expert, but I really enjoyed what I read. This is rare for comic books and me. This book was not only a “page-turner,” but a “page-put-downer,” in the sense that it was so dark that I had to leave it be for a few days.

Let’s start with the overall plot. The story starts in an alternate history in the mid-80s. It is during the cold war –an era the few today appreciate. Super heroes where once part of everyday life, but since 1977, they have been outlawed as “vigilantes.” Most of the super heroes have since retired to a quiet, humdrum, existence. One retired hero is murdered, and the plot takes off from there.

I won’t ruin the story for you. Instead, I will concentrate on its existential themes. These are only two among many. The first is the negative existential theme. In the chapter “The Abyss Also Gazes,” a psychologist interviews the particularly violent and uncompromising super hero, Rorschach. At the end of the chapter, Rorschach explains that existence is random, there is no moral rudder, and we devise reasons for it later. This hero, at some point in his past, found himself “free to scrawl [his] own design on this morally blank world.” The visual symbolism, an ink blotch, could not be more artfully placed than if it was done by that ugly, google-eyed, Frenchman himself.

There is also a happier existential theme. In another chapter Dr. Manhattan (the glowing blue guy you’ve seen in the trailers), realizes that he is losing his emotional link to the human world. He takes his former girlfriend (Silk Spectre), via teleportation, to Mars. As he gives her the grand tour, he asks a serious question: why is earth better than Mars? What is so important about human life? Why should I, Dr. Manhattan, bother with it anymore? After a series of flashbacks into the life of the Silk Spectre, Dr. Manhattan gets his answer. The chapter closes with a famous quote from Jung: “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being.”

My favorite part of the comic was the aforementioned Rorschach. This is the character who is quoted in the movie trailers: “All the whores and politicians will look up and shout ‘Save us!’ … and I’ll look down and whisper ‘no.’” This is a character who does not call his disguise a “mask” but rather his “face.” This is a character so damaged on the inside that he makes Batman look well adjusted. This is the one character who kept going out into the urban filth to fight crime even after super heroes were banned.

Rorschach is a complicated and believable character. He uses brutality to get information when he needs it. He had no problem burning someone alive, which is harsh even when they deserve it. His other actions that make you wonder how much of a hero he really is. But at other times, he demonstrates gentler things, such as his friendship and commitment his fellow masked crusader.

So there are my thoughts on Watchmen. I’m sure we can’t wait for the movie. Of course, it is in the mires of legal trouble. Even Watchmen author, Alan Moore, hates it. This could turn into another Starcraft: Ghost. It might be better for people simply buy the book instead.