The Adaptable Educator’s Book Review – Preacher, Volume 2: Until the End of the World by Garth Ennis

Garth Ennis’s Preacher, Volume 2: Until the End of the World is a visceral descent into the grotesque underbelly of Americana, steeped in mythic violence and dark satire. If Gone to Texas introduced us to Jesse Custer’s cynical divinity, this volume drags him—kicking, screaming, and bleeding—back into the hellfire of his past, where familial trauma and religious corruption intertwine like barbed wire around his psyche.

At its core, Until the End of the World is a meditation on the power and perversion of belief. Ennis peels back the layers of Jesse’s tragic origins, revealing a Southern Gothic horror worthy of Flannery O’Connor, laced with the nihilistic irreverence of Hunter S. Thompson. The narrative pivots around Jesse’s monstrous grandmother, Miss Marie L’Angell, a calcified relic of Old Testament brutality who sees herself as God’s chosen instrument. Here, faith is wielded not as salvation but as control, binding Jesse through fear and psychological abuse. Ennis exposes the dark heart of American evangelical fundamentalism, satirizing the blind devotion that fuels its most oppressive figures.

Steve Dillon’s artwork remains a study in stark realism, grounding Ennis’s excesses in a world that feels disturbingly familiar. The action sequences crackle with kinetic energy, but Dillon’s true strength lies in his character work—each expression, from Jesse’s grim defiance to Miss L’Angell’s serpentine smugness, deepens the narrative’s emotional weight. His use of shadows and framing heightens the book’s horror elements, particularly in the claustrophobic, dungeon-like setting of Angelville.

Yet, for all its nihilism, Until the End of the World is, paradoxically, a love story. Jesse’s bond with Tulip is tested, reaffirmed, and, most importantly, given space to grow beyond mere plot function. Unlike many comic-book romances relegated to damsel-in-distress dynamics, Tulip remains fiercely independent, her role as Jesse’s emotional anchor never diminishing her agency. And then there’s Cassidy—the lovable rogue whose charm masks a deeper rot, a theme Ennis will explore further in later volumes.

As with all of Preacher, this volume is not for the faint of heart. It revels in excess, from hyperbolic violence to grotesque caricatures, yet it never indulges mindlessly. Ennis wields his absurdity like a scalpel, exposing the hypocrisy and cruelty beneath societal facades. The book’s humor is razor-sharp, cutting through the darkness with a gallows wit that recalls the best of Tarantino or the Coen Brothers.

In the grand tradition of the American antihero, Jesse Custer stands alongside the likes of Clint Eastwood’s Man with No Name or Cormac McCarthy’s Judge Holden—figures who embody the contradictions of a nation built on both righteousness and bloodshed. Until the End of the World solidifies Preacher as not just a great comic series but a subversive work of literature, dismantling the myths of power, faith, and destiny with gleeful abandon.

Final Verdict: A brutal, blasphemous, and brilliant deconstruction of American mythology, Preacher, Volume 2: Until the End of the World is essential reading for those who like their storytelling unflinching, their heroes flawed, and their satire razor-sharp.