Posted on September 28, 2022 by Tim Eagan
One of the characters I came up with for my graphic novel has been on my mind a lot since the book came out. He’s not a new character in fiction. Lots of creators have come up with personas for him, even though he is not a “person” per se. Death, one way or the other, finds his way into a lot of narratives. That said, I like to think of my version of him as unique.
Other interpretations of Death tend to portray him as some sort of bloodthirsty goblin who is plotting against us. I suppose that is because we fear death and the suffering connected with that event. But to me that is a misreading of this (admittedly imaginary) character.
If there really were an entity whose job is to oversee the end of life, it seems to me that he would be pretty businesslike about the work. He certainly wouldn’t be the menacing figure we so often see, slavering over our early and unpleasant demise. He’d be too busy for that kind of emotional involvement. Death, moreover, would not have any particular axe to grind. His axe, you’d think, would be razor sharp all the time. And he wouldn’t be in a hurry. He’ll get to do his job eventually. So what’s the rush?
Now that I’ve been writing about Death, drawing him, and putting words in his mouth. I think it’s taught me a little bit about the character — and my own attitude toward him. He wouldn’t be cruel. He wouldn’t take pleasure in ending lives (unless it was satisfaction in a job well done). And there is nothing about that job that would necessarily keep him from taking an interest in his prey.
Come to think of it, “prey” is not he right word. “Clients,” perhaps, or “customers.” It’s not really an adversarial relationship, in any case. Indeed, Death provides a service that we will all need at some point.
At the same time, he’s not exactly a friend, either. He wouldn’t step in to save our life, for instance. We can count on his respect, though, because that’s what we’d expect from a thorough professional. So, even though friendship is out of the question, there is no reason we shouldn’t feel friendly toward Death. Just so long as we remember that, for him, the job comes first.
And so, I found myself actually liking my Death character. Others who have read the book told me the same thing. Perhaps that’s because I made him so non-threatening. That was a bit ironic of me, I know, but Death himself is a bit ironic, isn’t he? The whole idea that life has non-life built into it is the ultimate Catch-22. It’s a beautiful gift that we know will be taken back from us at the end.
That dark irony at the heart of Death gives him an open field to be funny or serious or just plain silly. Whatever the situation permits. So he can be quite likable. Up to a point. He may be detached, but there’s no reason why he couldn’t enjoy himself — or be at least be academically interested in us. That’s why I decided to draw him without that off-putting hood. A frank and fully visible skull seemed much more appropriate.
There is no character named Death in real life, of course. No Grim Reaper with a scythe and an agenda. Death is simply the end of life. Whatever identity he has is strictly a projection of our own feelings about our approaching demise. During the writing and drawing of Head First I found it comforting to think of him as friendly, even trustworthy.
If it’s our time to go, what’s the point in making it more of a bummer than it already is?
Other interpretations of Death tend to portray him as some sort of bloodthirsty goblin who is plotting against us. I suppose that is because we fear death and the suffering connected with that event. But to me that is a misreading of this (admittedly imaginary) character.
If there really were an entity whose job is to oversee the end of life, it seems to me that he would be pretty businesslike about the work. He certainly wouldn’t be the menacing figure we so often see, slavering over our early and unpleasant demise. He’d be too busy for that kind of emotional involvement. Death, moreover, would not have any particular axe to grind. His axe, you’d think, would be razor sharp all the time. And he wouldn’t be in a hurry. He’ll get to do his job eventually. So what’s the rush?
Now that I’ve been writing about Death, drawing him, and putting words in his mouth. I think it’s taught me a little bit about the character — and my own attitude toward him. He wouldn’t be cruel. He wouldn’t take pleasure in ending lives (unless it was satisfaction in a job well done). And there is nothing about that job that would necessarily keep him from taking an interest in his prey.
Come to think of it, “prey” is not he right word. “Clients,” perhaps, or “customers.” It’s not really an adversarial relationship, in any case. Indeed, Death provides a service that we will all need at some point.
At the same time, he’s not exactly a friend, either. He wouldn’t step in to save our life, for instance. We can count on his respect, though, because that’s what we’d expect from a thorough professional. So, even though friendship is out of the question, there is no reason we shouldn’t feel friendly toward Death. Just so long as we remember that, for him, the job comes first.
And so, I found myself actually liking my Death character. Others who have read the book told me the same thing. Perhaps that’s because I made him so non-threatening. That was a bit ironic of me, I know, but Death himself is a bit ironic, isn’t he? The whole idea that life has non-life built into it is the ultimate Catch-22. It’s a beautiful gift that we know will be taken back from us at the end.
That dark irony at the heart of Death gives him an open field to be funny or serious or just plain silly. Whatever the situation permits. So he can be quite likable. Up to a point. He may be detached, but there’s no reason why he couldn’t enjoy himself — or be at least be academically interested in us. That’s why I decided to draw him without that off-putting hood. A frank and fully visible skull seemed much more appropriate.
There is no character named Death in real life, of course. No Grim Reaper with a scythe and an agenda. Death is simply the end of life. Whatever identity he has is strictly a projection of our own feelings about our approaching demise. During the writing and drawing of Head First I found it comforting to think of him as friendly, even trustworthy.
If it’s our time to go, what’s the point in making it more of a bummer than it already is?