Their Eyes Were Watching God

Vertigo’s comics series about a group of misfits on a divine mission

With those words, Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon’s “Preacher” immediately establishes itself as a comic apart from the rest.

The Vertigo comic series tells the story of Jesse Custer, a reluctant preacher imbued with the Word of God, a power that forces people to do his bidding. Joined by his girlfriend, Tulip, and an Irish vampire named Cassidy, he sets off across America with a singular goal in mind — to hunt down God.

Running from 1995 to 2000, the comic series came to prominence in an unprecedented period of authoritative disillusionment and doubt. By 1998 — the middle of its run — 14 percent of Americans were now claiming to have no religious preference, double its previous percentage in 1991, and increased aversion to organized religion. That same year, the Lewinsky scandal reflected a similar dissonance growing between citizens and those purportedly above them.

With a story that its creator referred to as “blasphemy,” “Preacher” mirrors the dissatisfactions of readers who read it now or back then.

It has everything.

Its storyline is unorthodox. Following the destruction of his church and the murder of his entire congregation, Jesse heads out to confront God, who has fled from Heaven for unknown reasons. Along with Tulip and Cassidy, he begins a cross country hunt for the being.

Its dialogue and characters are witty and distinct. Jesse is a faithless preacher. Tulip is a hired hit-woman, introduced when she carjacks Cassidy at gunpoint after a failed hit. Cassidy is a vampire with a voracious drug problem and an overwhelming desire to be loved.

Its minor characters, everyone from a heavily disfigured boy who fails suicide to an undead assassin, are introduced with purpose and never anything but multi-faceted.

And it’s got action so unrelenting in its grip that I finished it in three days upon reading the first issue. Five years of a comic, gone in a 72 hour whirlwind of anticipation at each panel, each line, and detailed facial expression.

After all, how many writers could say that their plot was something as grandiose as making God answer for his indifference toward humanity’s suffering? And even then, how many writers could turn this from a cheap gimmick into something spectacular?

Ennis and Dillon had prior experience in this regard when they worked together on another Vertigo comic, “Hellblazer.” This series followed the life of occult magician John Constantine in his constant battle against the supernatural and his own self-loathing. Mixing gritty realism with vibrant fantasy, the pair succeeded in demonstrating a harsher side to the fantasy genre. The comic was also the first to show its protagonist age along with the publication.

The pair spares none of this innovation when it comes to “Preacher.” Elements from “Hellblazer” follow over into it, from its fantastical characters to its morally ambiguous human ones. More often than not, it is the supernatural creatures that tend to be more dichotomous and traditionalist than the seemingly fallible humans.

Of course, the series relies on a few of the standard cliches of Christian folklore. Angels don’t like humans because God loves them best. God is a bearded old white man that insists to everyone that he is a “loving God”.

God is no doubt a focal point in the story. He spends the majority of the series running from our three main characters and doesn’t even interact with Jesse until he’s forced to. Plain and simple, he’s a coward. If “Preacher” has a single failing, it’s the one-dimensionality brought to his character.

But that’s what God is in this narrative — a character. He’s not made into an unattainable idea. He’s not given special treatment, because our main characters refuse to see him as anything but an absent father.

It is this grounded execution of such a lofty plot is what keeps “Preacher” from becoming another cheap shot at an organized institution. Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy are hunting down God out of anger and resentment, for answers, not punishment. Along the way, they find that they are just as capable of being cowards themselves.

In the end, “Preacher” reminds us that good and evil are not mutually exclusive. Regardless of position, people are inherently fallible and injustices should never go unresolved.

In its time of publication, it echoed the discontent of the masses toward authorities that had either failed them or ostracized them with their choices.

In the present, it creates a good discussion in theological philosophy and a good read.

*Images taken from the “Preacher” series. Illustrations and art by Steve Dillon and Glenn Fabry