“We never get tired of running from ourselves.”

The Underwater Welder
Jeff Lemire
2012
Topshelf Productions

Jeff Lemire’s 2012 original graphic novel The Underwater Welder is a horror book, despite being labeled as “GRAPHIC NOVEL, DRAMA” on the back cover. It’s not horror in the traditional sense, as it does not feature scary imagery, gore, violence, archetypal characters (monsters, slashers, aliens, supernatural beings, etc.), frightening mise-en-scene, or any other generic horror elements designed to create dread and fear in the reader. The horror in Lemire’s follow-up to the widely acclaimed Essex County (2008) follows suit with the style and tone that Lemire has become known for in his original works. Much of Lemire's oeuvre predominately features ordinary characters who lead relatable lives that aren’t grandiose or vastly different from the average Canadian’s. Lemire prides himself on setting his stories in Canadian landscapes, accompanied by depictions of white Canadian culture and pastimes, as well as pitting his characters through suffering of some sort. Like filmmaker/fellow Canadian Denis Villeneuve (Sicario, Polytechnique, Prisoners), Lemire has a gift for capturing internal struggles and presenting them fully realized on the page. Not only are his stories solid, but his artwork has one of the most distinctive styles in contemporary comics. The self-taught Lemire experiments in The Underwater Welder by combining his iconic black-and-white colouring & heavy inks with interchangeable water colour sequences over thinner inks. 

Lemire combining his traditional style with the new.

Set on the coast of Nova Scotia, The Underwater Welder follows Jack Joseph, the titular welder and burgeoning father, as he ventures offshore one last time before his pregnant wife Suse gives birth to their first-born child. The story is broken up into four chapters, each one with its own title that is fairly suggestive of what’s to come, both literally and metaphorically. Flashbacks are a constant in this narrative; without them, the story would not work. Damen Lindelof (Lost, Star Trek, Prometheus) in his introduction argues that The Underwater Welder is "the most spectacular episode of The Twilight Zone that was never produced." Elaborating on that, The Underwater Welder reads like a dream at times. It’s equal parts tranquil and serene, often providing Jack with a sense of calm while he’s underneath the surface, and equal parts surreal: Jack enters a strange place when he dives down to repair the rig he’s tasked with fixing. The ocean itself is a foreign environment, and like Jack’s experiences, the ocean brings forth a solace of sorts as well as the fears of what lurks beneath. When Jack descends, he not only enters the estranged terrain of the ocean, but also the murky depths of his own mind; it’s kind of a cliché to relate the ocean and one’s subconscious like this, but Lemire’s execution of what follows is what redeems him from his own entrapment of overused narrative devices. 

It’s revealed as the story unfolds that Jack’s father Pete disappeared mysteriously two decades ago on Halloween night (double check the date of this review). This sole event is what drives the narrative and leads Jack to explore his own inner world. Meanwhile, Jack neglects the world around him, leaving his pregnant wife to fend for herself and prepare things for when the baby comes on her own. Besides neglecting her at a time when she needs him most, Jack’s few interactions with Suse are sparse and brief. Jack is a lackluster husband and partner. It’s clear that Jack’s daddy issues are affecting his transition into becoming a parent himself, and like any good husband/fledgling father, Jack abandons Suse at the worst possible time. Just as everything begins to crash in Jack and Suse's lives, Jack decides to abandon ship and heads back into the water. Just when he thought it was safe to go back into the water...

A reflection (of a reflection).

The horror in The Underwater Welder stems from the unknown. Jack, along with everyone else in the nameless town of Nova Scotia, believes that Pete was diving during a storm on that fateful Halloween night twenty years ago, but his body was never recovered. Besides not knowing the fate of his father, Jack is also afraid of the responsibility of becoming one himself. Something else that remains uncertain is where Jack goes at various points in the novel. It’s suggested that he sinks inside of his mind, but it’s never entirely clear. Cue The Twilight Zone vibes.

On the art side, this book is a treat for Lemire fans and newcomers alike. Lemire’s linework is it’s cleanest during the sequences I dub as taking place in “reality,” particularly those when Jack and Suse are together. Choosing to make the book black-and-white allows Lemire’s pencils and inks to really shine, as when his art is coloured like in his Vertigo series Sweet Tooth, the focus of the art is no longer solely on the structure of the linework, but also on the textures the colour palette creates. Rather than solely using his signature combination of thin lines and thick inks, Lemire layers his work by utilizing watercolour washes and experimenting with lighting. Lemire’s use of watercolour creates an effective underwater aesthetic during the underwater scenes. He also employs watercolour grey tones (with minimal inks) for the flashback scenes featuring Jack’s father Pete, which creates a sense of nostalgia that translates to the reader well. 

An example of Lemire using watercolours overtop of his thicker inks. 
The watercolour naturally gives an underwater aesthetic.

What The Underwater Welder is ultimately about is accepting that which you cannot change. It’s about giving into the horrors of grief rather than ignoring and repressing them. The Underwater Welder demonstrates that it’s okay to be vulnerable to our emotions. By accepting grief as a natural part of the human condition, we are able to strengthen ourselves emotionally and prepare to build a better future for ourselves. Jack’s story isn’t all that happy, but acceptance isn’t always easy and his story is a good representation of this. In Nietzsche’s terms, we need to become critical historians; we need to overcome our long established antiquarian ways -- to let go of the old and pave way for the new.