Their love for each other is matched only by their drive to survive. While both Lori and Carl lack the survival, weapons and hunting training of those around them, they remain locked in a fierce battle against the zombiepocalypse to protect that which matters most—the human family.
Who are Lori and Carl Grimes? They are characters from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew. They have created cast of characters I have expressed a great deal of love for:
Lori and Carl are the core of a family unit traumatized by the realities of a zombified world, wife and son to a man tasked by circumstance with leading a soul-weary band of survivors through the horrors as safely as he can. Lori is determined to protect her child at any cost, but may not have the kind of constitution to survive a prolonged zombie onslaught, and all the emotional baggage it carries with it. Carl finds himself literally growing up in the zombiepocalypse, traversing his developmental years to the background of flying body parts and weapons instruction.
[***WARNING: Spoilers ahead***]
Lori and Carl are tasked with protecting humanity’s most valuable asset—the family. While water, food and ammunition are integral to physical survival, the presence of loved ones bound by blood and affection grounds and lifts the spirit. The Grimes family is not the only familial unit in and around the main survivor group, but with Rick Grimes as the survivor band’s leader, the Grimes clan is—whether they like it or not—the “first family” of the zombiepocalypse.
Ever since viewers first met Lori—played by Sarah Wayne Callies—she has been coping with severe emotional trauma and struggling to balance her own needs with what she believes to be right and/or necessary. Lori is not a bad woman. She is a good mother, who loves her child and would, I have no doubt, die to protect him. She is loyal, …yes, loyal, and will stick behind those she loves when she believes them to be right.
But Lori is struggling to manage the consequences of choices she’s made—sometimes she’s wrong for the right reasons, other times she’s right for the wrong ones. I mean, let’s be real here, she believed her husband was dead. Shane helped her and Carl survive, was someone she trusted and could feel safe with in the midst of a world gone mad. Taking a lover when surrounded by nothing but death is a good way to remind yourself that you are indeed alive.
She has been coping with the guilt of her decision to enter a sexual relationship with Shane ever since Rick returned from the dead…and all of the other complications that accompany it. She’s angry and hurt. Yes, Shane may have believed Rick was dead, but he wasn’t…and so Shane (who is just not helping his own case) is the target for all the mixed-up rage, guilt and fear that Lori harbors.
Lori is Rick’s rock, his most vocal defender after Shane. And where Shane, Rick’s best friend, will argue with him to get to a decision that creates more pent-up frustration between the two buddies, Lori is most-often content to back Rick’s decisions even if she doesn’t like them because she know his heart is true. But I do have to wonder if this isn’t part of the reason she was doubting their marriage before the zombiepocalypse hit…just sayin’. Lori is quick to point out to others when they are being selfish or projecting their own emotions onto Rick who—as she rightly points—continues to do for the group what no other would. I just wish she could so readily take stock of her own interactions and self-correct when she is projecting.
Carl—brought to life by Chandler Riggs—is growing up before viewers’ eyes. Between season one and the trauma of season two the young man has evolved from a whimpering, fearful child into an eager, increasingly capable young man. Carl wants to emulate what he sees both Rick and Shane doing to save everyone and make a tangible contribution to the group’s survival. He throws himself with great passion into learning the skill he will need—how to properly catch and clean fish, set up an alarm system around camp…fire a gun.
He is still a child, clinging to the pure hope and innate optimism that most youngsters have, but there is little doubt Carl is determined to become a zombie hunter extraordinaire. ..even if he does not yet truly understand the emotional consequences of such an undertaking.
Both Lori and Carl face serious emotional and physical challenges ahead. Lori is aware of hers, and we see her struggling to find a balance between protecting the family members she has, and adding to the mix with a baby. Carl, despite everything he has seen and experienced, is likely to encounter a crisis of conscience or two as strives to become the man he thinks he should be.
But can they survive? Can they keep the Grimes family unit together and alive? One thing is for sure…they will fight to the death to make it happen.
They are hardy, wholesome folk. Hershel and Maggie Greene can keep a farm running, ride any steed in true cowboy style and wrangle zombies when the need calls for it. Their faith in God sustains them, but their isolation leaves them susceptible to grand—and potentially deadly—illusions about the realities of the world they live in.
Who are Hershel and Maggie Greene? They are characters from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew. They have created cast of characters I have expressed a great deal of love for:
Faith in the Almighty is rule # 1 on the Greene farm. Rule # 2 is that Hershel’s word is law, only below that of God. He runs his family with a firm hand and there’s little doubt that even before the walkers started appearing on their property, he possessed full and total control over every aspect of their lives. Maggie has been content to follow her father’s righteous lead but has a more worldly strength to her than her father possesses. When the main survivor group finds the Greene farm, Hershel and Maggie are easily cast as saviors—but the zombie-infested world in which they live may ultimately rip both the group, and the family, apart.
[***WARNING: Spoilers ahead***]
The Greene family provides a nice little twist to the environments most commonly associated with the zombie genre—large cities run down, blown halfway to hell, and overrun by the walking dead. Hershel and Maggie have managed, despite all odds, to not only survive but to do it in their own home with their own resources (for the most part) and create a sanctuary for others in need.
Hershel is a man of principle, a spiritual rock guided by his faith in God and a firm belief in right vs. wrong. There is little grey in Hershel’s world, something is one or the other, and cannot be both. It is upon this basis that Hershel views the zombiepocalypse. He is a giving man, in his own way, but will draw the line when generosity poses a danger to his beliefs or his family. And the rigidity of the faith he presents poses dangers—both physical and spiritual—for himself and those around him.
Hershel – played by Scott Wilson – believes that worldwide zombification is akin to the evolution of HIV/AIDS. Everyone goes into hysterics. A lot of people die. And then one day a miracle cure comes along, sent by God’s own hand to save the faithful who managed to survive. In Hershel’s mind, this is a cleansing.
But on the few occasions where Hershel does speak of such things it feels more as though he is a man desperate to fit the unthinkable into an existing belief system. He has lost family members. The world has, largely, ended. He knows this, yet Hershel really isn’t prepared to meet the challenge head on. He is clinging to his faith as a way to continue the ‘old way’ of doing things, rationalizing away the realities of the zombie world.
Maggie, despite the ‘grief’ she causes Hershel because of her budding relationship with the “Asian boy,” is a source or pride for Hershel—a younger, more worldly version of himself. Maggie’s belief system is not so rigid, so much a part of her being, that she is unable to consider alternatives without shaking her own core. Maggie – played by Lauren Cohan – quickly finds herself questioning events around her after the main survivor group arrives: Maybe her father is wrong. But if he is, then is she equally wrong for following him? Where does that leave God in the new world order? And most importantly, how do they survive?
At this point it is Maggie, not Hershel, who appears most likely to survive the zombiepocalypse longest of the Greene clan. It’s not unlikely that Maggie may soon find herself in the not-unusual situation of having to manage role reversal—where the child becomes the parent and the aging parent becomes the child—in order to save what is left of her family.
And then there was the barn.
When Glenn stumbled across the barn and its’ unfortunate occupants, I nearly broke my roommates fingers I grabbed his hand so hard (an action I would repeat when Shane ripped open the barn doors shortly thereafter). This was going to be it. The place where faith and realism collide, where right and wrong are so hopelessly intertwined that even the most the righteous man would struggle…where we discover what humanity really means in a zombified world.
Anyone with a heart, felt bad for Hershel. And yet, even though in some rose-colored way we wanted him to be right, viewers knew he was wrong. The tragedy was that it took a rather inhumane approach by a very unstable man, Shane Walsh, to rip off the blinders and force Hershel, and Maggie, to finally confront the reality of the world they now live in.
Weeks after the mid-season finale aired, viewers are still struggling with that last sequence and what it means for a very brave, very soul-weary group of survivors: Can Hershel move beyond the shock and accept the new reality? Can he become the spiritual ground-zero that the main survivor group needs so badly? Or will he retreat, cloak himself in cracked-faith and leave the others to fend for themselves? And what future will Maggie choose? Will she evolve into the zombie-slayin’ farm girl I see within? Or will she be unable to forgive Shane and the others for the ‘damage’ they have wrought on the Greene home?
Whatever choices Hershel and Maggie make are sure to be right—and heartbreaking.
She has seen the worst of human nature. She has survived heartache, chronic abuse and the spiritual cost of living a life dominated by fear—and that was before the zombipocalypse hit. After all the horror Carol Peletier remains capable not only of love, but of taking emotional risks to express that affection. Carol is a survivor in so many ways that have nothing to do with putting a dent into a zombie’s skull.
Who is Carol Peletier? She is a character from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew. They have created cast of characters I have expressed a great deal of love for:
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
Carol—played with stunningly intricate nuances by Melissa McBride—is the main survivor group’s mother figure. She, more than any of the other females, is able to consistently put aside her own hurts and doubts, to reach out and nurture those around her. In this regard Carol represents the best in human nature, a truly pure spirit we should all be so lucky to have in our lives.
[***WARNING: Spoilers ahead***]
From the get-go viewers could look at Carol and say, “This is a woman who has seen hell.” The way that Melissa McBride handles such a delicate character is brilliant—the little subtleties during her interactions around any man that told more about the extent of the abuse the character suffered than the one instance of on-screen abuse at the hands of her husband Ed in season one were chilling.
But it was also apparent right away she was a survivor. Whether for herself or the child she loves, Carol would find a way to persevere. And Carol’s true beauty was that her strength of spirit was there all along. We just couldn’t quite see it clearly behind the thick veil of abuse.
Carol is the epitome if motherhood on the show. She’s always there for the children. Teaches them in makeshift class rooms. Heck, she’ll even do a stranger’s laundry. She shows appreciation by taking care of others. No one forces Carol to do laundry. Unlike Andrea, who very much wants to throw off the restrictions she feels her gender ties her down with.
Carol sees suffering and reaches out, even at the risk of getting slapped for it. No other character on the show could have told Daryl what he so desperately needed to hear out loud—that while he may not have the education, experience or training of men like Rick and Shane, he is every bit as good as they are. While others like Dale may have seen or felt instinctually that Daryl needed this to help further the evolution he is experiencing, it was Carol that had the right combination of courage and empathy to deliver.
And then…there was Sophia.
Sophia was the light in Carol’s darkness. A child that, no matter what, brought joy and love into her life when an abusive husband sought to rob her of her dignity. In the aftermath of Sophia’s disappearance we saw both Carol’s finest and weakest moments.
Anyone who knows the pain of losing a child was physically shaking during Carol’s interaction with Daryl in the horse stable. What kind of strength does it take to tell someone that the search is over? To admit that you have to let go of your only child? Good grief, just writing that gives me goosebumps. Nothing, absolutely nothing, in this world compares to losing a child…the pain is physical, a paralyzing terror. And yet, somehow Carol has the strength of spirit to embrace a mother’s worst nightmare in an attempt to save the life of another.
My one big issue with the Sophia situation was that Carol took a back seat in the search for her child. Intellectually I understand this might have been the result of years of abuse and being pushed to the background until you yourself believe you have no contribution to make, and again McBride’s portrayal was brilliant. But everything in my core bucked against it, and I found myself itching to drive down to Georgia and start searching for a fictional character myself. That could have been difficult to explain later on….
But the real question now is—can Carol continue to survive?
We saw the battle Andrea fought after losing her sister Amy. Andrea and Carol have different kinds of strength, and Andrea appears to have found a way to pull through. Carol has now lost her source of joy, her anchor. Will that be it….the event that finally breaks her beautiful spirit?
They are the oddest couple I know. One is a strung out, racist, redneck with a really bad attitude and cojones only a fool would dare challenge. The other is a black man built like a Mack truck who displays good intentions and guts, but harbors doubts about his place in a zombie-infested society. When they meet sparks, …or rather blood and spit, certainly fly. It’s a feast for the eyes and the spirit…for both Merle Dixon and Theodore Douglas, better known as T-Dog, are grappling with issues of race, survival and what it means to honestly show your true colors.
Who are Merle Dixon and Theodore Douglas? They are characters from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew. They have created cast of characters I have a great deal of love for:
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
These two characters represent the opposite ends of the spectrum in a battle that has raged since the beginning of recorded history. Are we, the human family, truly one? Or, are we divided by race, religion, ethnicity and/or politics? Are we a global family? Or, is it us against them? Neither man is evil. Both are, at least partially, products of their environments. And both men have valuable lessons to teach us about what it means to be human.
[***WARNING: Spoilers ahead***]
Everyone loves Merle. Wait, scratch that. Everyone loves Michael Rooker, a singular actor who can take the most vile character and leave viewers salivating for more. But it isn’t just Rooker. Merle is able to do what most of us cannot—to be true to who he is and speak his mind no matter how unpopular his feelings might be. Putting aside, briefly, that Merle is a danger to pretty much anyone he encounters including his own family members, there is a sort of freedom there that few human beings have the guts to display. T-Dog certainly doesn’t have that kind of courage—it is only when ravaged by fever that he is able to give voice to the dark thoughts he harbors within about race and the fate of the black man. While he may later express disgust with the bile that spewed forth from a fevered mind, he cannot really deny that those were—at least, in part—his true feelings…and given the state of pre-zombiepocalypse society, not entirely unjustified.
T-Dog, played by IronE Singleton, is the main survivor group’s conscience personified. After Merle’s disgusting display on the roof, it is T-Dog who steps forward to take on the responsibility for Merle’s fate even though he, above all the others, would have the most reason to turn and walk away. He took the responsibility for dropping the key and delivers a message few want to hear—that the blood is on their hands, and no matter how repugnant Merle may be his fate will weigh on their spirits. By securing the door with a chain and padlock even as he fled the rooftop scene, T-Dog recognized that his anger towards Merle was human, but that the outcome was untenable.
The one vs. the many. Merle and T-Dog, because of who they are as men, have polar opposite approaches to survival. Merle needs no one and sees the pansies, democrats and n*ggers as negatives rather than assets. T-Dog sees every individual as having a place on this earth with value to add to the group. In this regard Merle is hopelessly deluded. A man may be able to survive physically on his own, but the human spirit requires others to flourish.
Both Merle and T-Dog have strength of spirit, the strength of true survivors. If you pull away the layers of drugs, acerbic wit and short-sighted views of Merle, and the doubts about his place in the main survivor group as a whole in the case of T-Dog, both men have a strength to them. Seriously. How many people out there could do what Merle did on the roof, and in the kitchen with the iron? How many can continuously put aside fear and loneliness to act in the best interest of the group as a whole with no real sense of acrimony?
Which leads me to the rub. Is there a place for a man like Merle in a group of survivors for which he expresses little more than outright disdain? Should a man who consistently puts the group before himself feel like an outsider? And, ultimately, should the group survive long enough to begin a true rebuilding process, can they—the new human family—rise above the hurts of the past to chart a more humane future?
We’ve been lost in a fog of The Walking Dead withdrawal since the mid-season break began in November. With weeks still ahead of us until episodes resume on AMC February 12th, hope seemed impossible. That was until we received a coded message offering support during these tough times.
Last October, Robert Kirkman and Jay Bonansigna released the novel, The Walking Dead: Rise of the Governor. And now we’ve been given a chance to share a clip of the audiobook, read by Fred Berman.
“Following in the footsteps of the New York Times bestselling graphic novels and the record-breaking new television show, this debut novel in a trilogy of original Walking Dead books chronicles the back story of the comic book series greatest villain, The Governor.
In The Walking Dead universe, there is no greater villain than The Governor. The despot who runs the walled-off town of Woodbury, he has his own sick sense of justice: whether it’s forcing prisoners to battle zombies in an arena for the townspeople’s amusement, or chopping off the appendages of those who cross him. The Governor was voted “Villain of the Year” by Wizard Magazine the year he debuted, and his story arc was the most controversial arc in the history of The Walking Dead comic book series. Now, for the first time, fans of The Walking Dead will discover how The Governor became the man he is, and what drove him to such extremes.”
Hopefully this clip will tide us all over until the mid-season premiere. Enjoy!
Temperamental and rash, Andrea is determined to prove herself. But she remains prone to emotional outbursts that cloud better judgment, and result in foolish half-thought actions. That Andrea does have natural strength and the gumption to use it make her missteps all the more painful to watch. And often in the case of her fellow survivors, that pain is literal.
Who is Andrea? She is a character from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew. They have created cast of characters I have a great deal of love for:
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
And it is Andrea—more than any other character on the show—that has left me screaming at my television set in equal parts empathy, rage and frustration.
Andrea is The Walking Dead’s most deadly female. Unlike the other women in the main survivor group she is very able to pull the trigger—and this ability is a vital component to both individual, and group, survival. But she is struggling to develop the mental maturity to deal with the new realities of a zombie-infested world. She has the guts. Her physical reactions to danger are never brought into question. Once the proverbial mess hits the fan, she is transformed into a tough-as-nails woman who does whatever is needed of her to draw her next breath. It remains to be seen whether she will survive long enough to become the face of “female power” on the show.
[***WARNING: Spoilers ahead***]
Andrea is a survivor. Anyone who has been through a war zone, natural disaster or other catastrophic event can tell you, no individual really knows how they’ll react in a life-threatening situation until they’re staring down the barrel of an AK-47. Some people freeze, some panic. Some go into survival mode to just get through it, while others become something akin to a battled-hardened army officer—alert, organized, able to take command of the situation. Andrea is able—no doubt thanks in no small part to massive adrenaline rushes—to batten down the emotional hatches and get through jut about anything.
But Andrea’s survival methods are also somewhat dangerous.
She is willing to push herself, but may take on more than she can handle. When walkers bit, infected and killed her last surviving family member, Andrea showed the depth of her constitution. She stayed by her sister Amy’s side—wracked with fear, guilt, sorrow and rage—until the zombification process took hold. It was Andrea who pulled the trigger to end Amy’s zombie existence. It was a moment of great strength, one that most of us would hope our loved ones would have were we to fall to a zombie horde. But it cost Andrea dearly, left her flailing and lashing out….and, yes, potentially dangerous to the other survivors.
She doesn’t listen. In the rush to demonstrate her ability to do more than wash the group’s laundry, Andrea ignored the entreaties of others in the group to take a shot at a possible walker headed towards Herschel’s farm. Now if we ignore the fact that the shot she took was aimed at one of the fan favorites Daryl Dixon and set off a pretty massive outpouring of hate, it remains a stupid move, at best. One walker. A half-dozen able-bodied men with weapons moving to intercept said walker. Why on earth would anyone consider it a good idea to take the shot and risk alerting every zombie for miles? Andrea’s desire to prove herself could cost the group lives.
Andrea is out for revenge. Few of us ever have someone specific to blame when a loved one dies; a mainstay of the human condition that can cause debilitating levels of sorrow. Andrea knows who killed her sister. Walkers. And she will take out every walker she can. In order to avoid the pitfalls usually associated with revenge, Andrea has to find a way to channel her pain strategically and not take ill-advised pot shots at ear-necklace-wearing rednecks.
There is a delicate dance to the life Andrea is molding herself to fit. She must remain level-headed enough to take clean, precise shots at the walkers. However, being able to say, “Now is not the time to fight” and retreat with the people she’s now sworn to protect is a huge skill to utilize. Can Andrea continue to grow into the ultimate zombie slayer? Will she be able to look past her thirst for revenge to do what is needed for the betterment of the group? She is unpredictable at best, downright dangerous to herself at worst. If Andrea falls into the darkness, nothing Dale or the others do will pull her out of a self-destructive tailspin. It is the danger we all face when put into world-altering events.
Everyone, whether fictional or flesh and blood, needs a person they can go to in times of emotional turmoil. That person holds up a mirror to reflect their true self. Without them, we are doomed to keep repeating mistakes, or worse, destroying who we really are by trying to pretend we’re someone different and going against our nature. Dale is that man. He speaks the truth, no matter how hard it is to hear.
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
Dale is The Walking Dead’s yoda…or Gandalf, if you prefer. Wise and caring, Dale acts as an elder statesman within the group –tending to group members’ emotional wellbeing, settling disputes and providing a sense of stability and direction in a world gone mad. But as we’ve seen in season two Dale, played so beautifully by Jeffrey DeMunn, is only human. His wisdom is of great value, but—truthfully—is sometimes compromised by his own feelings.
[***WARNING: Spoilers ahead***]
He is a dying breed. More so than the others in the main survivors group Dale –an elder well-educated, worldly man who chooses to remain optimistic and forward thinking—may truly be the last of his kind in the post-zombiepocalyptic world. The group needs Dale, desperately, to keep them morally and ethically grounded. He may not be perfect, no one is, but Dale is the personification of those characteristics from the “old way of living” that must.be.protected. to truly maintain the humanity that binds us all.
Dale sees all. The other members of the main survivors group try repeatedly to get one over on him, to fly under the Dale radar so they don’t have to own up to their behavior. It rarely, if ever, works. T-Dog, for instance, tried desperately to hide how severe his injuries were in the first episodes of the season. In his infection-fueled fever T-Dog became uber paranoid about his place in the group. Who would want to rely on a crippled minority and an old fart, right? Dale set him straight, showing him exactly where he was needed, while also trying what he could to tend to the more pressing matter, the fever about to fry his friend’s brain. In that moment, Dale became like a father to T-Dog. Sometimes we need our parents, even when we don’t realize it.
Dale may not be able to pull the trigger…but is still susceptible to the horrors within. In Shane, Dale finally found the one soul he cannot follow down their chosen path. Shane’s methods in ensuring the people he cares for are shocking to some. He is the trigger man Dale could never be. At the same time, during their confrontations in season two, it is apparent Dale wants to reach that level of practicality Shane is at, the one where he could do to Shane what Shane did to Otis and be able to justify it by saying he did it to keep Andrea safe. But would it really be an effort to neutralize the competition? We still don’t know if Dale’s fatherly nature has given away to more when it comes to her…and how far it could take him.
There was a moment in the season one finale where I literally bit a hole in my index finger to keep from screaming. Dale did what I hope all of us would do in a difficult situation to protect our common humanity. He chose to make the ultimate sacrifice. Andrea later accused him of being selfish. I disagree. Dale’s decision to remain behind at the soon-to-explode CDC if Andrea was staying was a moment of true bravery—one we could all aspire to having (though maybe not in such dire circumstances).
As with many of The Walking Dead characters—and most people in the real world—Dale is defined by the choices he makes. That he consistently errs on the side of traditional morality makes him a force to be reckoned with. He is the group’s greatest defender…the protector of their collective soul.
He sure has balls for a Chinaman. Oh wait…he’s Korean. Whatever. What he is, is the kind of person I’d like to have at my side when the worst happens. When the horde is gathering and the body parts are flying—no matter what emotions may be racing through his adrenaline-hyped body—he remains practical, strategic, capable…and caring.
Even though Glenn isn’t really real, his innate ability to simultaneously make me smile and feel completely safe makes this young man a keeper on my post-apocalyptic wish list of companions.
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
Glenn’s honesty and bravery are consistently challenged in this world gone mad…and every.single.time he rises to the challenge. He remains loving and very humane in the way he interacts. The world has changed, but for Glenn—played by Steven Yeun—this bloody new reality doesn’t change the compassion he has for his fellow man. Dale may be the sage within the main survivor group, but Glenn is the group’s hope personified.
[***WARNING: Spoilers ahead***]
I’d like to say it’s his youth more than anything else that causes the disparaging remarks Glenn faced early on. Daryl Dixon’s banter around Glenn’s nationality, calling him ‘short round’ and wanting to see how red Glenn’s face would get when he drank alcohol were all pretty non-PC digs that speak to how Caucasians see stereotypes about Asians. But if we’re going to go there, …and the show certainly did, Glenn does have some “common” Asian traits. He’s generally quiet and observant, the kind of guy who assesses a situation before acting. Glenn is practical and good at devising thoughtful strategies to deal with a difficult situation. Yes, he can be a little dorky, a comic geek. But as we’ve moved into the halfway point of season two even Daryl has had to admit—if just by easing up– that Glenn’s Asianness (is that a word?) helps enhance his ability to make vital contributions to the group.
Maggie said that Glenn is a leader but the group doesn’t respect him. I think she’s right, and wrong, on both counts. Whether you ascribe to the Rick or Shane school of leadership, both understand the importance of information and how it can affect group dynamics. Glenn is discreet…and apparently very eager to learn about spark plugs. But he is unable to make a judgment call on information without seeking advice. Glenn’s bravery is unrivalled within the group. Some may ask him to do questionable things that take advantage of his bravery, …but that is not necessarily a sign of disrespect or lack of value. It is a sign of need. Glenn can do these things and remain…Glenn. The longer he survives, the older he gets, the more Glenn will come to be what Maggie already sees in him.
Glenn is the best kind of team player. He’s a caretaker. Glenn values every individual in the group and is willing to use his abilities to help protect not only their physical wellbeing, but also their emotional welfare, without any real thought about what it might cost him. Some might call it naïve—and Glenn himself admitted to falling into the trap of not seeing the zombies for the threat they present—but in a very real way this makes Glenn the heart and soul of the group. Their best hope at staying human.
Glenn sees in Maggie the opportunity to really feel alive again. Later, he admits to Dale exactly that, that he wants to be with her to feel something other than the terror of living day to day in the world of the walkers…when he might be dead tomorrow. But this poses a huge dilemma for Glenn. He makes promises to Maggie that could potentially spell trouble for the people with whom he has been through so much. Glenn is incapable of putting Rick and the others in danger, even at the cost of his personal life. Balancing his wants and needs with that of the group, and what he views as right, is no easy feat. Yet somehow Glenn handles the situation with poise and honor.
When we first met Glenn he was doing what—if we’re all being really honest with ourselves—many would not. His willingness to risk his own life to help a stranger, a dumbass stuck in a tank surrounded by walkers, was a reflection of both youthful bravado and the principles to which Glenn holds dear. Rick asks Glenn why he has taken such a major risk. His response? “Call it foolish, naïve, hope. That if I’m ever that far up shit creek, somebody might do the same for me. Guess I’m an even bigger dumbass than you.”
Hope is the operative word in that exchange…it is Glenn.
He can toss, shoot and gut pretty much any animal with the flick of a knife. He can even turn squirrel sushi into a finger-lickin’ meal. Like the animals this survivor is known to hunt, he is natural, untamed and fierce. But unlike his prey—which instinctively know their place in the food chain, and the world—he is searching, taking emotional bumps and bruises in the quest to become the person he is meant to be.
That this struggle takes place against the backdrop of a make believe zombiepocalypse doesn’t make Daryl Dixon’s journey any less enthralling to watch.
Who is Daryl Dixon? He is a character from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew. And like the tormented character of Shane Walsh for whom I’ve already expressed great affection, Daryl Dixon has an uncanny ability to pull at my heartstrings.
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
Like many of the characters within the main survivor group Daryl—played by Norman Reedus—is changing as a result of circumstances surrounding the arrival of the age of zombie. He may not be the most educated or well-spoken survivor left on the planet, but the zombiepocalypse has afforded Daryl the opportunity to demonstrate his worth—to others, but also…to himself—while swinging his crossbow in intoxicating style.
Daryl is the everyman. The character almost every viewer can identify with.
He is battling the “nuture” he has experienced in his life to honor the “nature” that is within. The age of zombie has given Daryl what so many of us would like (though, obviously, without the zombie part)—a chance to emerge from the hurt, disappointment and mistakes of the past to become the man he never really dared hope was within.
He trips. He falls…spectacularly. And yet, every time he does, Daryl picks himself up and finds a way to battle on. Some of the stumbles are more painful than others, some may not actually be hurts Daryl can overcome.
(***Warning: Spoilers ahead***)
Defining his self-worth in his own eyes and the eyes of others matters…a lot (even if Daryl himself would probably throw something at me for saying it). I believe Carol had it right when she said Daryl is every bit as good as Rick and Shane. He is…but he just can’t quite believe it yet. There is darkness in Daryl’s past—we’ve all seen the sledgehammer hints of the kind of childhood Daryl survived. Bigotry. Distrust. Criminal activity. Emotionally abusive family members. All have left their scars. Left him unable to truly trust himself or others, even though it’s obvious he wants to.
Daryl is brave, thoughtful and capable. Three characteristics his despicable older brother Merle overshadowed, and would probably disagree with, especially when used to help defend pansies, ni**ers and democrats. With Merle out of the picture Daryl is able to use his innate personality traits and survival skills the way he wants to—as a force for good.
Daryl put his soul into the search for Sophia. In a very real way, the opportunity to find and save Sophia became a vehicle through which Daryl could do for another what no one did for him; a way to take a profound hurt that had followed him into adulthood and turn it into a powerful positive. He did everything anyone could have possibly asked of him, …and more. The search nearly cost him his life, and he would have kept at it no matter the cost. That he neither found, nor saved her—and that she came to such a gruesome end—is like a blow from Thor’s hammer.
Daryl needs Carol. She is damaged but a survivor…and one who is able to love and demonstrate affection without true fear despite what experience has taught her of love. She is the polar opposite of Merle, the nurturing force Daryl has been missing in his life. In this regard she is what Daryl could be if he continues down the path he has chosen.
Daryl suffers for his brother’s love. Daryl both loves and loathes Merle. Merle’s brand of love is harsh, demanding…abusive. But when the chips are down and there’s almost nothing left to cling to it is to Merle that Daryl’s subconscious turns to help him survive. Merle may very well be the only love Daryl has ever really known—he helped mold Daryl into the survivor that he is, but he also stunted his baby brother’s development. Somewhere deep inside Daryl knows Merle kept him from being the man he could be…a truth he’d take a swing at you for voicing, but a reality he is working very hard to change.
Every time I see him I am reminded of why opening up your heart to anyone is at best a calculated risk, and at worst a fool’s errand. He is strong and capable, but simultaneously tormented and weak. He is—despite his claims to the contrary—too human for his own good.
The fact that he is not really real should keep me from feeling too sad, but it doesn’t…because I am in love with Shane Walsh.
Who is Shane Walsh? He is a character from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew.
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
In that regard Shane is both succeeding and failing spectacularly.
And every time he makes the wrong decision for the right, or wrong, reason it both breaks my heart and makes me love the character even more.
Now I could probably write 50,000 words on this based on events in seasons one and two, thus far, in the show—but in the interest of finishing this before the end of the year I’m going to attempt to keep this brief.
When the zombieapocalypse began to unfold it presented an opportunity for an average guy like Shane to reach into his core and become something different, better…greater, than he had been previously. He could emerge from the shadow of a mediocre life to become a leader…to prove his worth to those he cares about, to what is left of the world.
Shane is capable of the more practical aspects of survival—handling firearms, securing a water supply or repairing a broken down car. He is able to pull the trigger when necessary (and, on occasion, when it might not be). He sees The Walking Dead’s zombie-infested world for what it really is and doesn’t shy away from the difficult decisions.
But his downfall is that he has convinced himself he can see survival in a zombified world in physical terms—claiming he can ‘flip an emotional switch’ and do what needs to be done no matter how horrific to survive. The truth is that he cannot.
He has hog-tied his emotional wellbeing to a relationship with a woman and child that cannot be, and does not have the emotional fortitude or maturity to find anything else good in this make-believe world worth holding on to. It colors his every decision, and eats away at him like an internal zombie virus—incurable, unstoppable. All around him the broader tragedies continue to unfold, and every.single.one leaves him less able than the one before to honestly cope with this terrifying new world.
Every time he stumbles Shane is propelled down a darker path, taken away from that which is good in himself—that to which he once aspired and what remains in his stress-twisted mind what he has become.
Yet at the same time…Shane is often right, even when his tactics make my stomach churn.
(**WARNING: Spoilers ahead**)
He was right to tell Lori Rick was dead. Shane did the best Shane could do in a life threatening situation and knew Lori would never leave if there was a chance Rick remained alive. That he did it, at least in part, motivated by selfish reasons makes me ill, …but he was right.
He was right about the mission to find Merle that split the group and left the camp less-defended. Was the search necessary? To maintain some semblance of humanity—yes, it was necessary. In terms of survival? Questionable at best. Over the long-term winning the loyalty of Daryl Dixon gives the group a powerful, very capable ally. But it also left the group smaller, with less people to defend the humanity they’re all clinging to.
He was right about Sophia. Standard operating procedure. After 72 hours, you’re looking for a body folks. He delivered the message like a bludgeon. It won him few friends, but he was right. And it was only when faced with the decision to destroy something so pure as the innocence of a child’s hope did he relent and be the man he could be in a different world.
He was right about the barn. Leave or clear out the walkers. Faced with the sight of Rick following the lead of a man completely deluding himself about the state of the word, Shane leapt into action. Survive or die. Make your choice. That Shane had to rip at the human fabric of every other survivor on the farm to drive home this point is despicable. It was a massacre—plain and simple. And none of them will ever be the same.
And then….there’s Otis. It was Shane’s defining moment. A decision made for a multitude of right and wrong reasons, mashed together in a stew of human suffering that left no doubt…Shane can never be the man he would like to think he has become. I would like nothing better than to condemn this moment with every derogatory word in the English language. Dale said in the mid-season finale that Shane belongs in this world. I believe it is destroying him and Otis’ death was his primal roar to the universe—an act of supreme suffering and animal rage to take the life of another to save his own…knowing, somewhere deep inside, that by doing so he was committing emotional suicide.
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Wanted to add this in as the discussion on FB was quite lively. Seems I am not the only one rooting for Shane.
“Following in the footsteps of the New York Times bestselling graphic novels and the record-breaking new television show, this debut novel in a trilogy of original Walking Dead books chronicles the back story of the comic book series greatest villain, The Governor.
