Reread of the Hawk: Berserk, Volume 9

What Happens

Knight of Skeleton

Camping alone in the woods, Guts encounters a mysterious stranger – a knight with a skull-shaped helmet who gives Guts, whom he calls the “Struggler,” a warning: in one year the Eclipse will occur, when Guts and all his friends will be gathered together with “those yet unseen of the fleshless flesh” to face a death they cannot escape.

It is raining back in Windham as Griffith is admitted to Princess Charlotte’s room through the window. She tries to tell him about the emotional turmoil she’s been through in the past half-year, what with his departure for battle and the death of her stepmother, but Griffith just kisses her.

Conan vs. Khal Drogo - Either way, it'd be one hell of a fight

As of the Game of Thrones panel at ComicCon this past weekend Jason Momoa is now on record as staying that in a fight between Khal Drogo and Conan the Cimmerian, “Drogo would kick Conan’s ass.” This doesn’t seem to have evoked much opposition at the panel itself, but there’s since been some discussion on whether that’s a smart thing for Momoa to say in light of the upcoming Conan film. Should he be saying that a character he’s already played could beat up the character he’s playing in the film he’s supposed to be promoting right now?

From a marketing/PR perspective it certainly doesn’t help a film for the lead actor to say, even indirectly, that he doesn’t have confidence in the character he’s playing, especially if, as noted above, Conan’s the star of the film, whereas Khal Drogo is really only a secondary character unlikely to be seen again. I won’t presume to know whether he was genuinely speaking his mind or just being polite to Martin, or if it was a well-considered or simply spur-of-the-moment response, but I will say that he clearly enjoyed playing Drogo (based on his response; I haven’t seen the TV series yet, much to my frustration) and probably didn’t want to do him any disservice.

This post makes a good point in arguing that he could’ve done that by calling it a draw. Then again, calling the fight a draw might feel like a cop-out, and given the high-profile nature of the venue, it does kinda put him under pressure to give a straight answer. Although it’s true that we haven’t seen any real demonstration of Drogo’s prowess in the books (his fight from the TV series being an original scene; apparently it was Momoa’s idea (3:23 p.m.)), only hearsay and the praise of others, but I doubt, and certainly hope, that Martin didn’t mean it to be false. It definitely is smarter to promote what’s coming over what’s already finished, but regardless of who won I’m sure it’d be extremely close either way. It definitely feels like they’d be well-matched opponents, so it’s not like Momoa would be impugning on Drogo’s prowess if he went with Conan. Given Conan’s larger, more well-established legacy, he could always say that it’s a case of “beaten by the best.”

Maybe this will hurt the reputation of the Conan film, maybe it’ll all just be a splash in the pond that’s forgotten come August 19^th, maybe Momoa will change his mind at a later event; I don't think it matters a great deal. These “who would win?” arguments are, after all, primarily a matter of personal preference and taste, but we’ll inevitably get the wider fandom’s take on this match-up come the 2012 Suvudu Cage Match. It was probably gonna happen already, but I’d say now it definitely is.

Reread of the Hawk: Berserk, Volume 8

What Happens

The Battle for Doldrey, Chapters 5-6

Despite the paralyzing effect of the poison Casca manages to kill Sir Adon. Outside, Guts finds himself unhorsed, his sword split in two by Boscogn’s pole-axe. Then a large, cleaver-like sword drops from the heavens (thrown from a nearby clifftop by an unseen Zodd). Guts uses it to simultaneously decapitate Boscogn and his horse, and the defenders are thrown into a panic when they see the flag of the Hawks flying from Doldrey’s ramparts.

With Doldrey fallen the Holy Purple Rhino Knights retreat in disarray. Gennon pleads with Griffith, begging him to remember the night they shared together. But Griffith tells Gennon he feels nothing at all for him, he was only a tool to be used and discarded, and kills him. As the Hawks celebrate their victory, Zodd reflects that the time of the Eclipse will soon be at hand as he takes his leave.

Reread of the Hawk: Berserk, Volume 7

What Happens

Casca, Chapter 3

Following her rescue, Casca managed to make a life for herself as a mercenary. The fledgling Band of the Hawk continued to grow as it won victories on the battlefield, the men inspired by their heroic commander who retained a boyish innocence in spite of his achievements. But, as Casca would soon realize, his life was much darker beneath the surface.

The Hawks had found employment with a wealthy lord whose taste for young boys was an open secret. One night Casca spotted a (shirtless) Griffith on a nearby balcony, and saw the nobleman take him inside. The next morning she found him down at the river, tormented by what he had done but insisting he needed the money, and satiating a nobleman’s deviant lusts was better than earning it by fighting more battles; that would only cost them more troops, and the fact that so many already died helping him achieve his dream is tormenting him enough. It was then that Casca, awed by the strength of his conviction, vowed to give everything she had for him.

Reread of the Hawk: Berserk, Volume 6

What Happens

Master of the Sword, Chapter 2

Count Julius, the King’s brother, resents the rising prestige of commoners like Griffith, and how easily the King seems to accept it. Foss, one of the Royal Ministers, informs him of the rumor that his White Dragon Knights, one of the most distinguished units of the Midland army, may be replaced as the King’s bodyguard for the autumnal hunt, an honor they have always had, by none other than the Band of the Hawk. The Count is furious, but Foss reminds him that hunts are dangerous things, and you never know when a stray arrow might strike the wrong target…

Reread of the Hawk: Berserk, Volume 5

What Happens

The Golden Age, Chapters 7-8

Guts successfully delays the enemy cavalry, his one brush with death averted by the timely return of Griffith, Pippin, and Judeau. Together they lead the enemy into the teeth of waiting cannons, forcing them to retreat. As Hawks celebrate their victory Guts is dragged from his attempted solitude and hailed by the men as one of them.

The next morning, Guts is summoned to see Griffith, and he finds him by the castle well, still naked after his morning bath. He douses Guts, which sparks a water fight. Afterwards, Guts notices Griffith is wearing a strange necklace, which the latter says he bought from a gypsy fortune teller, calling it the Behelit, and to Guts’s surprise, it seems to be alive. Griffith explains that according to legend the Behelit can offer its bearer the world in exchange for his flesh and blood. He then reveals to Guts his personal ambition – to someday have a kingdom of his own. Guts doubts the feasibility of it, but is struck by the strength of Griffith’s vision compared to his own aimlessness.

Last Season, Grey Clouds Hung Over Mossflower: A Tribute to Brian Jacques

Yes, this is five months late, but I had neither a blog nor the time for more than a moment of silence when I first read the news back in February. And this probably isn’t anything a million others haven’t already said either; that doesn’t make it any less true for me.

When the news of Jacques’s death first hit the internet there were countless tributes on how his books got the author into reading, or taught a kid they know that it didn’t have to be homework. I’m not one of them. Getting me to read as a kid was never a problem. But these are the first books I remember picking out myself, as opposed to something an adult thought I might like. It all started at the age of nine, when I went into a kids’ store with my brother and an aunt, saw the Redwall books on a bookrack and thought “hey, these look cool!” What followed was a journey that was one of the highlights of my early adolescence, as I eagerly read all the books available at the time, and waited for Christmas or my birthday to get my hands on the newest one.

My memory of what else I was reading when I started the series is hazy at best (try nonexistent), but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say the Redwall series was my introduction to fantasy. They definitely cemented my love of adventures in imaginary, pseudo-medieval worlds, which describes way more fantasy than it should. But whatever the case may be, Redwall has been my gateway to many memorable books since, and my love of the genre is still going strong.

Sure, the series tended to be mostly straightforward “good woodlanders” and “evil vermin”, but they were still the books that really introduced me to the concept of ambiguity. I remember finding some vermin characters just as if not more interesting than the woodlanders, especially if they showed signs of not being wholly evil, and being saddened by more than a few of their fates. Nor were the plots particularly original, or all that different from book-to-book, but these stories of young heroes and colourful villains, filled with dark woods and unexplored caverns, mountain strongholds and pirate fortresses, and culminating in heroic battles were plenty cool to a kid discovering these concepts for the first time.

And, heroic battles between good and evil or not, these were books weren’t afraid to deal with violence and death. More than one young woodlander has to come to terms with the loss of a loved one or friend throughout. Sure, the good guys invariably win in the end, but not without cost. Even though graphic detail was avoided, they weren’t afraid to show children that yes, violence does kill people, not everyone bad is completely evil, and that sometimes it’s necessary to do things you’d rather not. All while still providing exciting adventures. Is it any wonder they were successful?

I may not have realized it at the time, but the Redwall series taught me a few things, and planted the first seeds of a love for fantasy that has led to many great reads since. So Mr. Jacques, even though you’ll never read this, and I’m probably only the billionth person to say it: thank you for your books and everything they’ve done for me. I hope there’s good October Ale on the other side of the Dark Forest Gates.