I. Love. Zombies. The Walking Dead on Sundays is the closest thing to religious observance that I have. Cheesy zombie movies on Netflix? Yeah, I’ll binge on that. Novels, short stories – I’ll take them all as long as they feature my favorite monster. Though I am the type of guy who enjoys a mindless gore fest, it’s not necessarily the flesh eating that piques my interest when it comes to the zombie apocalypse, though it adds flavor to the story (get it? Flavor? No? Ok…) What always hooks me is the human response to the issue, and what we would do if the shit were to hit the proverbial fan.
George Romero arguably redefined what we consider the zombie to be today with Night of the Living Dead. In the past, one mostly associated the creature as a person who was under a spell (typically voodoo) who was devoid of any higher intelligence, and was a slave to a master. Romero flipped the script quite a bit by giving us a creature that was also dumb, but who had no master but it’s own desire: a craving for flesh. Their victims are then doomed to become a zombie themselves (or be completely devoured alive – still can’t decide what’s worse.)
Our “heroes” are a motley group of strangers, brought together by chance, who have to cooperate out of necessity. This is, of course, where things go wrong. In spite of their need to survive they cannot let go of their egos. Cue disagreements over how to get things done, who knows better, a little racism, and it all eventually leads to a 100% fatality rate.
The recurring theme is that humanity and civilization gets destroyed, leaving only a few (lucky?) survivors. Stripped of the luxuries of the modern world, these people find themselves in a no-holds-barred battle to the death. Between the monsters outside and the monsters within, humanity now has to cope with keeping away from zombies while not turning into monsters themselves (figuratively and literally).
In The Walking Dead universe, there are three questions that are asked of all newcomers out of necessity: How many walkers (zombies) have you killed? How many people have you killed? Why? In their new reality, the structures that hold up society as we know it have collapsed. Law is gone. The survivors are left to make up their own rules. Killing is a necessity now. There is a huge grey area when it comes to stealing (looting is technically stealing, right?) The most crucial piece to the survival puzzle in the new world isn’t how much firepower you have. It’s your willingness to tap into your primal survival instincts – doing whatever the hell you need to live. Of course, with deeply ingrained societal conditioning, questions of morals still come into play.
Perhaps the best example from The Walking Dead of that battle within, between reason and the darkest depths of our desire for survival, comes when Rick and the Governor are talking before the climactic final battle between the two factions:
Obviously trying to appeal to their sense of humanity, Rick tries to convince the opposing group to join them instead of fight. He makes a great argument, but he has two things working against him: 1. The Governor hates him and his group 2. It would actually be a better situation for The Governor and his group to just take over the prison and get rid of the others. While not the humane thing to do, as far as resources and survival is concerned he may be making the best choice that he can. It presents us with a dilemma though – is it right or wrong? In all honesty, given the situation, I don’t think there’s a clear-cut answer.
Hershel, in a sense, represents the final holdout of morality and reason in this scene. Symbolically, when the Governor beheads him he’s saying, “fuck that old shit. Times have changed and this is how we have to live.” Shortly after, bedlam ensues. Instead of having a safe haven (for now) the prison is left inhospitable as the growing number of walkers in the area swarm in through a breach in the gate. The group is split up again and left to fend for themselves once more.
Following the split of the main group, Rick, Carl and Michonne find themselves at the mercy of a new group: the marauders. Daryl has reluctantly joined them, but immediately comes to Rick’s aid when he needs it. Again, in such a dire situation with nowhere left to go, we get this gruesome (awesome, actually) scene:
Again, we see what happens when our survivors are forced to make the choice between death and survival. Rick lets his primal version out, and we see that he wants to survive – even if it means taking a bite out of his fellow man walker-style. After the incident, we see Rick sitting against the car, a bloody mess, and reflecting on what happened and the time he beat Tyreese in the prison he simply says “That’s me. That’s why I’m here now. That’s why Carl is…” He’s obviously perturbed that his violent side came out again, but he acknowledges that he must accept it in order to continue living and protecting those he loves.
Rick reaches a turning point here. He realizes that he must embrace the monster within to survive. This is where fiction meets reality though, as I believe we must do the same in order to make it in the world we live in now. We don’t need zombies to make us realize that.
The Tao of Martin 