As noted in the comments section of my review of issue #1, this is a story about a kid who's going into diabetic shock all by himself with no assistance readily at hand. As he attempts the perilous path from his attic bedroom to the kitchen, he has hallucinations and/or a vision of an epic journey he must make through a fantasy kingdom populated by the toys of his childhood, his pet rat and the faceless, malignant forces of an occupying power.

The thing is, this isn't a swashbuckling, back-slapping, high-fiving adventure that he's off having in la-la land while his body freaks out on him. The place he occupies when he's not perceiving his home and its environment is a terrifying place, dark and dangerous, filled with aggressive enemies, where even his real-world pet - transformed into a giant armored knight - is loathe to face the risks required of joining Joe in his travels. This is a dark and terrifying place, where faceless, flying blackguards chase Joe with the inexplicable goal of killing him and cities are being burned to the ground by giant Transformer-alikes. One of the first images of Joe the Barbarian #2 is one in which Captain Picard - missing a leg - surrenders his weapon to Joe because he doesn't have any faith left that he could defend the place where Joe has found himself. All the personified hope, imagination and pleasure of childhood is on the verge of resigning itself to defeat and waiting to die.

It's a perfect metaphor for becoming a teenager and finding out the world very well might just be one big room full of bastards.

The thing that most got me in this issue, though, was when the deposed king of the realm appeared to Joe and promised him that if he survived his journey he might one day hear his father's voice again. Anyone who's ever lost someone that close to them knows what it's like to wish for that one opportunity to hear them, speak to them, say goodbye, any kind of interaction at all. I kind of choked up at that. I wasn't ready for how deep into the core of human mortality Morrison is willing to take this story. I was fine while it was all a metaphor for growing up, the cynical wilt on the fringe of the blossom of youth, all that good stuff, but once it summoned up the list of people for whom I would cross a war zone to hear their voice one more time I had to set the book down and take a break.

When I was describing it to a friend who occasionally reads comics as well, he pointed out that the whole diabetic-shock-hallucination angle cuts out a lot of the typical fantasy endings, too. This isn't a story where the hero can die but the kingdom goes on, or everyone can learn a valuable lesson from failure. This kid, Joe, is either making it to the kitchen or he dies. We are constantly reminded of the literally vital importance of that goal as a frame or two here and there interrupts the story to show us that actually this person is very physically sick, dangerously so, and trying to save his own life. Even more horrifying, he knows that, and he's helpless, and we the reader are powerless to help him.

I really loved this issue and I love this book.

I've gone on long enough already, but I want to save the best for last: the art. Holy moly, people, this is art. This isn't illustration, this is art. This is one of the most beautiful books I've read in years, with extremely sharp visual design, image composition and execution. The fantasy world crowds in around the little windows into "reality" we get here and there in a claustrophobic, frightening way. Faces and body language are represented so well they speak better than the dialogue. I... well, frankly, I'm at a loss for words. When I sat down to write this - quite some time ago, as words keep failing me - I said to a friend that I was "trying to think of something substantive to say about Joe the Barbarian #2 other than OMG BUY BUY BUY." I don't know that I've accomplished that, so maybe I should just leave it there, but for real: if you like comics, give this book a try. I can see plenty of reasons why someone might not like it, taste is always subjective and valid for the person to whose taste it might or might not be, but this is one of the best comics I've read in years upon years.

And I still think it's secretly about shamanism.