The unconventional and macabre Underwinter ends as it began. There is horror that exists whether you see it or not and often all that mere mortals can do to fend off the darkness is to create something beautiful. It is never enough to just live, one has to contribute, and one has to survive.
But of course, nothing is as easy as all that. The majestic manifests around us, but usually, we don’t notice. Daily life can be a heroic struggle or an absolute fiasco or both. Who knows? Nobody, apparently.
This isn’t an easy story or pretty pictures, but there is beauty nonetheless. This is a slow burn and a moody pastiche. This is to be savoring and mulled over. It is poetic and grotesque and something that is worth a re-read.
Ultimately Underwinter is a satisfying albeit queasy mind bender. It is horror in metaphor and psychology wrapped up in philosophy and water color hallucinations. I find it haunting in a way that slips to the back of my consciousness and creeps into my perceptions unbidden. This is one of those stories that will stick with me for a long time whether I want it to or night. To me, that is a sure sign that the writer/artist is doing something special.