All roads eventually lead to death. In the case of Ryder across Ain’t No Grave, that’s quite literal. Having left her loving family, and grappled with a lifetime of moral and emotional shortcomings (most of which she facilitated), Ryder squares up with Death itself in Ain’t No Grave #5. Was it the ending Ryder or the audience wanted or even deserved, or should she have just stayed on the ol’ homestead?
And while maybe it wasn’t the finale Ryder had hoped for, I can say it was a truly moving final bow for the rest of us.
Across Ain’t No Grave, the art team (artist Jorge Corona, colorist Jean-Francois Beaulieu, and letter Nate Piekos) have done a bang-up job in combining genres. What we got across Ryder’s journey, then, was this gritty but oddly joyous amalgamation of the Wild West and some perfectly-placed fantasy bits. In issue #5, all of that synthesis reached its apex as we got a proper gun fight between Ryder and Death.
So much of the power of this confrontation begins with Death’s own depiction: this massive, albeit fluidic skeletal cowboy that checks a lot of familiar boxes for what Death ought to be, and yet still feels novel and suited to Ain’t No Grave. From there, it was a rather direct, streamlined issue for the most part, as we got lots of great angles and close-ups that facilitated so much of the tension and drama you’d expect in a classic western confrontation.
If there were pops of something else, or depictions of other times/places, it was handled with a certain gravitas and carefulness, drawing the distinction between moments from Ryder’s life (or maybe what could’ve been?) and her current predicament to really suss out how much she’d traveled/how far she’d fallen. They were these near-glowing snapshots of a simpler life, and their starkness compared to the hell that Ryder had found herself in brought about both deep emotions and regret as well as some vital clarity.
Main cover by Jorge Corona. Courtesy of Image Comics.
A lot of Ain’t No Grave had been trying to slowly infuse bits of the “deathly realm” (or the otherwise fantastical), and here the veil was dismissed pretty quickly. And that approach/speed visually did a lot to bring us into the world and feel the odds and stakes of this final confrontation.
But the looks can only go so far, and in my reading of Ain’t No Grave, I wondered what might happen when Ryder and Death finally locked up. Because, ultimately, the shoot-out is just a living analogy (in another solid decision from writer Skottie Young), and their real back-and-forth proved far more complicated. I don’t want to spoil too much, but Death’s ultimate value was providing Ryder with perspective. Sometimes that felt a little brutal and confrontational, but ultimately it was this deeply earnest approach and some proper humanity that definitely contrasted the deathly rider’s grim exterior.
And I love that — it reminds me of the end of Do A Powerbomb, where despite the fact that he’ll clearly win, God is warm and generous to Lona Steelrose regardless. And that’s what Death does here: lets Ryder do things her way, only to show her that most unavoidable of life’s truths. Ryder gains insight about her journey, what she really needed and wanted this whole time, and how her path was set before she ever left home. But there’s a directness and almost comfort that carries with it, and Ryder gains the humanity that she’s been running from this whole time.
She is changed if only in that she sees what she should’ve been or done this whole time, but she learned in a way that was authentic to her lifestyle, and that’s what makes the journey all the more satisfying (i.e., it’s the process and not the lessons learned).
But, he’s still Death, of course, and there’s maybe something of a twist ending. Or, a fake-out of sorts. Either way, it certainly puts a strong, extra dark period on Ryder’s tale (hopefully that doesn’t spoil too much). It reminds me of another ending: Lester Ballard from Child of God, and how abrupt and emotionally brutal it felt. Maybe that spoils it a bit more, but good lord was it an ending I didn’t expect but fully embraced with shot-nerves and an extra-wide smile.
Variant cover by Skottie Young. Courtesy of Image Comics.
For one, it was visually perfect — this rather simple layout executed with sheer brilliance to capture the viscerality and impact of this final moment. It was a proper masterclass from the art team once again, and perhaps the most defining moment in the entire book — and rightfully so given how I think it cements and extends some key ideas. More specifically, that even as Ryder had learned all these important lessons and finally perhaps made a smart call at the very end, Death still had to remind her of the order of things. And, sure, it’s a depressing (and rather violent) gesture, but it’s actually a kind of happy ending. For once in her life, Ryder stopped fighting and made the smart choice.
Maybe she didn’t get to entirely follow through with said choice, but that’s OK: life’s about doing good things (even if it’s just loving your family) and not doing them because they’ll get you what you really want. It was Death’s ultimate lesson to a student who finally deserved it, and I can’t think of a better way for Ain’t No Grave to have ended.
Sure, I would’ve maybe liked if the creative team could’ve pushed this for two arcs. (Oh, or maybe her daughter gets to go on her own sojourn!) But that’s just the Ryder in all of us speaking — we always want more time when we know that just ain’t the case. Still, Ain’t No Grave was massively satisfying overall. The robust, dramatic ending helped as the book leaned into what made it work, but the rest of Ryder’s journey was important nonetheless.
It let us connect with a flawed but intriguing character; ride through an inventive and fully realized landscape; and learn some vital lessons about life, death, family, and what really matters in the chaos of it all. Ryder’s story may be over, but thanks to Ain’t No Grave, I think we’ll be singing her song for quite some time.
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