Forum - View topicA piece I wrote after reflecting on Berserk
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Never_Know_Best
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The many faces of Griffith from Kentaro Miura’s incomplete masterwork, Berserk, are indelibly burned into my mind. Beautiful, inscrutable, innocent, conflicted and vicious, he is all that he needs to be; yet all he denies himself as well. His statuesque appearance, awesome as woman’s best, only further calls the wounded masses to his wonderful, callow cause.
Twice is he compared to a painting, glorious in his scene as he is in his absurdly ambitious deeds. Twice is his visage mimicked and embellished in sequence with impressive enthusiasm, in either adaptation illustrated with respect. The reader comes to know very well that his men are undyingly “his”. In the end of Guts’ Golden Age; quite naturally does Griffith fall, plummeting brutally like a self-cursed hero in grisly Greek tragedy. And unsurprisingly; without his very self-actualized identity as foundation, the Machiavellian in him pathetically and resolutely transmogrifies into the man himself. The boy becomes the general; the general the barbarous beast; the beast a beguiling angel from deepest Hell. Berserk, to me, really is “more real than real”. |
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