Wolverine is one of Marvel’s most popular characters, so when they decided to kill him off in 2014, it raised eyebrows. Four years later, everyone’s favourite Canucklehead isn’t just back for SNIKTs and giggles. (A giggling Logan is a scary image) Return Of Wolverine #1, written by Charles Soule, sees the character grappling with his resurrection and the emergence of a new villain. Soule looks to send Wolverine in a fresh direction, while also building on his mythology. Continue reading “Return Of Wolverine #1 Review: A Strong First Issue Puts Logan Back In The Spotlight”
Everyone has their own way of coping with death, whether through carrying out their own personal rituals or spending time with loved ones. The passing of my grandad has made me think about the burial ceremonies from different cultures, with comics offering an insight into the various practices. After all, death is never constant in comics. But we still mourn characters if we’ve read about them for years. Japanese funerals are some of the most elaborate, so it seemed appropriate that Wolverine’s death would be honoured through a culture that shaped his life.
During the Death of Wolverine arc, Logan’s son, Daken, carried out a traditional Shinto funeral for his father. Shinto funerals have twenty steps and I’m looking into each one as a way of seeing how grief is processed. Continue reading “Analysing The Nature Of Shinto Funerals With Daken And Wolverine”
Everyone wishes they had more time, whether to pursue their dream career or travel across the world. Imagine if you could extend your life and set out to accomplish everything you’d ever wanted. Imagine being able to maintain your youth for decades. What would you do if you had more time? Would you make the most of it? These questions form the basis of Rachel Heng’s Suicide Club, a novel that combines technology with the prospect of living forever. But there’s a dark side to immortality and Heng takes the reader on a journey through themes of loss, parenthood and what it means to be alive.
“Nine years ago, when I began working with the dead, I heard other practitioners speak about holding the space for the dying person and their family. With my secular bias, ‘holding the space’ sounded like saccharine hippie lingo. This judgement was wrong. Holding the space is crucial, and exactly what we are missing. To hold the space is to create a ring of safety around the family and friends of the dead, providing a place where they can grieve openly and honestly, without fear of being judged.”
Addressing death is difficult for many people, even though it’s a natural part of life. Whether it’s having to confront the notion that a loved one is gone, or attending a funeral, death isn’t an easy subject. But death can take on a whole new meaning in other cultures. Mortician Caitlin Doughty went around the world to write From Here To Eternity, a book about funeral rituals from various cultures. Death isn’t presented as something to fear, but as rather something that can heal, that connects family members together. Doughty takes the reader on a journey that features wish-granting skulls, open-air pyres and mummies.
It’s Thorsday and with Thor: Ragnarok being released soon, The Comic Vault is featuring content centred around the God of Thunder. Many people are familiar with the hero of the film, but not everyone knows about the villain. Hela, Goddess of the Asgardian Underworld, is a force to be reckoned with and she’s threatened Asgard and Earth on many occasions.
The ceiling rumbles, weary with the weight of desperate men. Their hatred is powerful, focused with such ferocity I wonder if it alone will be enough to tear through the roof of the bunker. They serve a Meshugener’s dream. This war has taught me it’s become harder to separate the mad from the wise. I should be terrified, but how much death can be faced before even the scent of burnt carcasses leaves behind nothing but jadedness? All the terror I’ve left to spare is for my people, huddling in the bunker, relying on me to see them through until the morning. But we will find freedom, we’ll never surrender to the likes of men who would turn us into animals.
Waves lapped at the shore while rain fell from a slate grey sky. Half of Brighton was still asleep. Niamh found she preferred the quiet. She wandered down the beach, hands in the pockets of her grey satin overcoat, her shoulders hunched against the cold. The salt spray in her face was a bitter reminder of days long past. She owed it to herself to make the walk, to hold on to the good it would do. Wind swept through her chestnut hair as she strolled along the shore, pebbles crunching beneath her feet.