Scalped #37 – Review

by Jason Aaron (writer), Davide Furno (art), Giulia Brusco (colors), and Steve Wands (letters)

The Story: Shunka settles a score, only to learn that things are never that simple.

What’s Good: I’m not sure I remember the last time that it was a good thing when a book disappointed me, but that’s the situation Scalped #37 confronts me with.  What at first looked worryingly like a filler arc has ended up being perhaps the bravest material Aaron has ever written.

So, what exactly am I going on about?  Well, it’s a giant spoiler, so I can’t really say.  Essentially, this issue’s latter half will slap you across the face.  It’ll make you feel like a fool for ever believing, even for just a moment, that there was ever a truly, 100% good and innocent character in the world of Scalped.  There’s a giant twist that’s sure to shock and make you feel all the dumber for being shocked.  It’s a brutal reminder of just how nasty Jason Aaron’s world is in Scalped.

Big twist aside, this is another strong outing for Shunka.  Early in the issue, he unleashes his rage, creating a bloodbath that is wince-inducingly visceral.  Yet, the sheer efficiency of his attack and his wordlessness throughout make it clear that this is more than simple comic violence and the swift dispatching of faceless goons.  Shunka is more than Shunka and this scene is more than it appears to be; at least for a moment, Shunka is rage incarnate and his violence is a railing against an institution steeped in prejudice, hatred, ignorance, and homophobia.  Shunka’s being a “one man army” makes it clear that he’s more than just a man and Furno helps to lend the scene a kind of surrealness.  Every action is full of anger and it’s clear that Shunka isn’t doing this for Crane; he’s doing it because he, and the closeted homosexual he represents, has had enough of the system.  The violence is, in many ways, anarchic in its abandon.

Aaron weaves his story expertly, with the unreliable (and now deceased) narration by Joseph Crane continuing to be effective.  Crane’s voice is clear in its limitations, adding to Shunka’s mystique and lending a sense of tense unknowing throughout.  Basically, despite the narrator, you’re relied on to catch what’s implied.  That and, let’s face it, the idea of a deceased narrator, particularly one that’s so winding, is always cool.