Greek mythology is not for pussies.

The Greek gods, though they may have been the inspiration for countless works of art, wars, and hours of tummy-busting sit-ups, were the sort of gods that my mother would have forbidden me to play with when I was a child, citing their dysfunctional, co-dependant family dynamics, rampant incest and bestiality, and unchecked control over who lives and who dies. A regular theatre du doloure, to be sure, and my mother would have none of it. Why, did you hear what happened to that Ganymede kid from down the street? she would demand of no one in particular. (Of course, I hadn’t at the time, but later I would read accounts of his being forced to minister to Zeus’ every drunken whim before being turned out onto the streets and forced to perform in Euschulus’ Oedipus at My Colonus, to survive, I can only say Shame on you, Zeus. Shame!) Gods forbid that the gods caught sight of you – favorably or otherwise – because, either way, your life was headed down the latrine with a final stop in Tartarus, gua-RON-teed! One need look no further than Hercules, a beloved hero of Ancient Greece, to see what it meant to have the gods’ eyes trained on you. Loved by Zeus, hated by Hera, Hercules was placed into indentured servitude for 150 years and had to perform twelve labors – including fruit-gathering and muckraking – to make up for murdering his wife and sons before becoming a beloved hero of Greece. There is so much wrong with that sentence, I am unable to begin dissecting it. But, that’s Greek mythology for you – it’s bothersome to our modern sensibilities (though I like my myths on the raw side).

Borrowing from these stories of dubious virtue, Charles "Zan" Christensen has created The Mark of Aeacus, which, mercifully, does not look at Greek mythology through Disney-tinted glasses (an aside – what was Disney trying to accomplish with their take on Hercules, anyway?), but rather pulls it into the modern world, keeping its edge and, let’s face it, unbridled homoeroticism. If ever there was a culture that could keep men wrestling each other naked while dodging the spite and lightning bolts of the gods, fatalistically knowing it would lead to certain doom, it was the Greeks. If ever there was a comic book that would have well-built men pass on the power of a Greek god in media coitus with a parting (and slightly ironic) “Good luck,” it would be The Mark of Aeacus.

But I get ahead of myself.

MoA begins with Jack of the Pouty Lips and his no-name trick who arrive at a no-tell motel for a night of unbridled trickery. The action is… actionful and long (perhaps a bit too long), but unsafe: Mr. Anonymous passes on a sexually transmitted tattoo to Jack – the eponymous Mark of Aeacus. Interspersed with the carnal pleasures are images of ancient Greeks, hoodlums, blood and Jack being sick. Are these visions or hallucinations? Jack wonders the same thing himself the next day at work, as he makes a hushed phone call to a clinic, worried that his one-night stand may have “gifted” him with something more life-threatening than his new belly tattoo. The clinic tells him to come in for emergency medical treatment, but on the twilight-y inner-city streets when he does go, Jack runs afoul of three punks, and... Ever have a gay revenge fantasy? A little daydream about how you’d get back at those who done you wrong? A swift kick in the nuts for the frat guy who called you a faggot? I’ll just say that Zan gives us a taste of how cold and sweet such revenge can be. I'll say no more, but Jack can give up any hope of a normal life. The gods have him in their sights.

On top of everything else, you may be asking yourself, Who is the Aeacus person and why is he leaving his mark on gay men? Zan gives an extensive background on the mythology of Aeacus at NorthWest Comics then takes us into his para-history and the origin of The Mark, but, in brief, his father was Zeus (See? This guy got around!) and his mother was an island (eventually). He ruled people who had been ants, and after he died he became a Judge of the Dead (a sort of Supreme Court Justice of the Damned. Much like our own Supreme Court Justices). But what the Mark is and what its purpose may be is the stuff of future issues.

Between the atmospheric art (Mark Brill certainly knows a lot about male anatomy!) and the sweeping subject matter and the brutal sexuality, The Mark of Aeacus reminds me of Marvel’s short-lived (and never completed) Epic Comic Void Indigo. I liked Void Indigo and I see MoA as its direct descendant. Hopefully, Zan will give us a complete story and not be bullied into stopping after two issues for, as histrionic as this seems, inflicting a “crime against humanity” on us. I highly recommend this new title and hope it will serve as another example of “Indies who can!”

OH OH OH!! Please remember that this book is "adult" in its subject matter. If you're not 18, have your parents order it for you.

Overall grade: A.

Editor's note: The Mark of Aeacus will be released in early September; you'll be able to Buy this comic at your local shop or at Class Comics.

Sean McGrath is a resident of Austin, Texas and an associate professor of English as a Second Language for Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing Students at Austin Community College. He writes the comic book Frater Mine on the side in addition to cooking, reading, customizing Mego action figures and swilling apple sour martinis at local gay watering holes. Sean can be reached at stseanoftheknife@austin.rr.com should one have any etymological questions or job offers in Columbus, OH for him.

The Mark of Aeacus © 2007 Mark Brill and Charles “Zan” Christensen. Review © 2007 Sean McGrath.

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