A peaceful action hero
Pax Avalon: Conflict Revolution
Steven “Reece” Friesen
Herald Press, 2008
120 pages
Like the superheroes they portray, comic books have changed their identity in the last 20 years. Comic books have moved from the shelves of mom-and-pop drugstores to videogame consoles and the silver screen; from the grimy specialty shop to libraries and bookstores. Once the domain of geeky boys and teenage nerds, now adults – even girls – read comic books.
Another indicator of their growing acceptance as a legitimate art form is the burgeoning genre called “graphic novels,” which includes both extra-long comic books and more literary efforts in comic format.Comics are cool, they are big business, and they are shaping mainstream culture.
The story Reece Friesen tells in his graphic novel, Pax Avalon: Conflict Revolution centres around “Pax,” a gifted gymnast with the ability to heal others. Pax is a Christian, as well as a volunteer member of ACSO, a team of highly trained and specially equipped individuals dedicated to the task of protecting Avalon City.
Redeeming the genre
Reece Friesen, a former pastor, now studying peace and ethics at Canadian Mennonite University, has two rather ambitious goals. First, he is attempting to redeem a superhero genre that trades in explicit violence and flamboyant sexuality, and is often irreverent and subversive.
From a visual perspective, Friesen is mostly successful. His drawings are generally fluid and dynamic. Unfortunately, the vibrant colour typical of comic books is absent. In fact, the hue of Pax Avalon is murky, sometimes making it difficult to see what is happening in the picture. That said, Friesen deserves credit for presenting an intelligent and athletic-looking heroine minus the hyper-sexualized trappings that typically make graphic novels, well, graphic.
From a storytelling perspective, Pax Avalon does what most comic books (and many Anabaptists) are famous for doing: questioning the prevailing assumptions about power, or the nature of good and evil, and so on. A discussion guide on the back pages raises interesting questions about our use of technology and the nature of healing.
Comics are especially good at creating space for readers to consider new perspectives and imagine new possibilities. Here, Pax Avalon falls short, particularly when it comes to Friesen’s second goal, which is to help people see that problems are best solved nonviolently.
On one level, Friesen is too much like some graphic novelists (and some contemporary
Mennonites) in that he oversimplifies matters. Friesen apparently believes that all force is violent, and therefore bad. Anabaptists, however, have historically thought otherwise.
On another level, Friesen is simply unable to get beyond the confines of the medium. Friesen makes a valiant attempt to walk the tightrope between the competing formulae of the genre and nonviolent philosophy. Comic books follow a simple recipe: less talk, more action. But nonviolent conflict transformation requires that people talk. A lot. And over a long period of time.
In one scene, Pax defuses an encounter with two criminals through dialogue. While Friesen avoids a boring series of talking heads, the solution arrives so quickly and easily that it feels contrived.
At bottom, while Pax Avalon will not capture everyone’s imagination, parents and pastors who give a copy to the 11- to 13-year-old kids in their lives will find plenty to discuss at church and around the supper table.
—J Janzen
