I have to admit, when I first set out to begin this post, I had fuck-all to say. In my review of BRZRKR Volume One I had asked if Keanu Reeves’ comics debut was anything more than an excuse to spill red ink, and ultimately came to the conclusion that there was intrigue worth pursuing in the main character, but that if one was wholly opposed to the depiction of gratuitous violence on the page, there was no unique or captivating theme present that would justify pushing through (for the sake of ‘Literature’ so to speak).

BRZKR Volume 2 seems to reverse that polarity somewhat, though I only began to realize this upon the reflection inherent in the review process. Initial impressions were that this piece traded in the same stock as its predecessor: B has a mysterious and tragic existence, he kicks ass against impossible odds (and gets completely messed up while doing it), we get some flashbacks of B throughout history, a dark and nefarious cabal surrounds B seeking to exploit his power. A lot of blood and guts are spilled.

But as I considered what to write about this, I decided that there WAS more going on than I’d initially realized and that while the intrigue surrounding B seemed a bit less interesting in this volume, the broader story around him was beginning to grow in depth and meaning. Here’s what I mean:

The story opens with Diana (B’s doctor/psychiatrist/a thousand other things) at B’s home, in what seems like something of a half-hearted attempt at seduction. B is almost comical in his commitment to the ‘strong and silent’ type in this scene but Diana puts on a record and gets him talking, and he goes on something of a rant about how all songs — throughout humanity’s entire history — are about one thing.

For B, music’s only purpose is to bring people together to satisfy a “universal urge” for “it” (and then because B is tragic: “. . . or the loss of it”). When Diana suggests “it” might be love, B responds stoically that he doesn’t do that anymore. But given the panels we see about the women B is with losing their children, I might venture that “it” is more likely sex, or becomes so over time.

I don’t think the character work here is particularly interesting; stoic, jaded, and emotionally unavailable action heroes are more plentiful than grains of sand at the beach, but this inquiry into the purpose of music IS something the reader can sink their teeth into.

Personally, I disagree with B and think there is more to music than the joy of getting to smash, or the sorrow of no longer being able to. B himself almost has it when he muses how music brings people together — forms connections. But it is only half-formed since for B, there is only the one type of connection which matters.

This opening inquiry into the purpose of music is just a taste of the types of questions asked throughout the volume, which indeed seems to be centered around defining purpose (you may even say it is the volume’s . . . purpose lol). While wandering in the woods after surviving a helicopter crash, B questions his own purpose in one of the more interesting character moments for B as he carries one of his squad members with him, in essence saving the man despite how seemingly cheap life should be for B.

And finally, the true thematic work of this piece comes to the foreground as villain Caldwell discusses an artifact recovered on B’s last mission (the reason they had to trapse around in the woods). Caldwell has been tracking the progress of technology in relation to B’s movements and suggests that while death and destruction assuredly follow him wherever he goes, so does information. B remembers the knowledge and technological advancements of lost societies and so those cultures live on. Every place he visits, be brings with him every place he’s been and so cultures mix and humanity progresses technologically through a kind of cross pollination. Caldwell suggests this is B’s true purpose.

At this point, it is not unreasonable to see B as a metaphor or personification of the concept of war and Caldwell’s explanation of B’s purpose as a commentary for the true (and perhaps essential) purpose of war itself. It would be hard for me to believe that this comic is written as a justification for war, but I’m uncertain that it fully succeeds as a condemnation of it. The cost paid for eternal violence is focused around one person, the hero, and his unbearable burden; yet the disruption, pain and sorrow — in my opinion the true cost of war — for everyone in B’s path is more or less unexamined.

I’ve spent a lot of time discussing theme and some of the more weighty parts of this work, but I’d also like to point out that there are some things within these pages that are just enjoyable for their own sake, and not for what they state about the human condition. For me, the “fun” part of this series has always been B’s relationship with history and the glimpses of the past we see through his memory. B is shown in many recognizable eras, and I was pleased to see a few panels placing B in Ancient Egypt.

So, Give ‘BRZRKR Volume 2‘ a Read?

For this installment, I can more whole-heartedly commit to yes. I still have the same caveats (or perhaps trigger warnings) as BRZRKR Volume 1, but I think the added thematic work present in BRZRKR Volume 2 — surrounding the purpose of more abstract concepts such as music, and especially war — elevates this sequel above its first installment and generally makes all the blood, guts and violence more endurable.

That’s all I have for this week. Has anyone read this yet? What do you feel is the purpose of music? How about war? Leave your thoughts in the comments. Looking forward to discussing this one!

See you next time . . .