Caligula vol 1 s/c back

Oookaaay, no sample copy on the shelves for this one! They’re all firmly bagged and tightly sealed: please bring to the counter if you want a gander within and your voice has actually broken.

How can one possibly match the depravity of sex-strewn zombie comic CROSSED? You get SILVERFISH’s David Lapham to write the fully authorised biography of Emperor Caligula, and you just ask him to tell it like it was. No, that’s not what it is. No messing about with the lunatic’s formative years, it’s straight to gang-rape and pillage as teenaged Junius returns from selling his olive oil at market to find his homestead confiscated, his family mutilated and his mother… Look, did we really need to see that? Junius sets out in search of revenge, which is a pretty tall order if your target is the Emperor of Rome, so it’s time for some rest and reconnaissance. Following some guardsmen as they come off duty leads Junius to discovering them cumming off-duty down at the local bathhouse, but at least that gives Junius something to play with and by the time the opening episode closes his olive oil is no longer extra-virgin.

Some of you are going to find this almost as hard to swallow as Junius does, and if you think my language is strong, I’m just trying to reflect the contents which escalate in their depravity as Junius finds himself on the turbulent inside desperately wanting out, but refusing to give up on his increasingly corrupted craving for revenge.

It is horrific, but also far more impressive and imaginative than the initial premise suggests, for what Lapham’s done is twisted known history (and a certain degree of invention) on a diseased, demonic spike. Have you ever wondered why Caligula made his horse a Senator? All really isn’t as it seems. You’ll witness amphitheatre bloodbaths with bull-headed gladiators meting out gut-strewn injustice Wolverine-style complete with braced, metal claws to families randomly chosen by the fear-intoxicated Emperor; sadistic sexual role-playing forced on groups of Senators and their wives; violations of every kind imaginable. Let me be plain: this makes Alan Moore’s NEONOMICON look tame.

German Nobile’s painted art is perfect for the project. It’s volcanically ugly in the best way possible, the fetid light almost extinguished as if by the depravity depicted. The chariot races are as terrific as they are horrific as they are insane, and his ebony horse is terrifying. And all the while Caligula’s eyes blaze with a madness beyond comprehension, his mouth sneering with contempt for those begging for a mercy which simply does not exist.