The Adaptable Educator’s Book Review – Preacher, Volume 4: Ancient History by Garth Ennis

Garth Ennis’ Preacher, Volume 4: Ancient History deviates from the main narrative arc of Preacher, acting as an interlude that deepens the lore of the series by expanding on secondary characters who, in many ways, are just as compelling as Jesse Custer, Tulip O’Hare, and Cassidy. This volume collects three stories (Saint of Killers, The Good Old Boys, and The Story of You-Know-Who), each offering a study in character and morality, wrapped in the grotesque and irreverent storytelling that has become a hallmark of Preacher.

The Weight of Myth: The Saint of Killers

The standout of the collection is undoubtedly Saint of Killers, a four-issue miniseries that transforms the enigmatic, unstoppable gunslinger from a terrifying antagonist into something akin to a figure of mythological doom. Ennis crafts a tale of vengeance that borders on the biblical—perhaps fitting, given Preacher’s constant engagement with themes of faith, divine wrath, and fate. The Saint’s origins are reminiscent of a classic Western antihero narrative: a former Confederate soldier attempting to build a life, only to have it violently stripped from him. Yet, in Preacher, such tragedies do not end in despair but in an elemental transformation. When the Saint returns from death—imbued with supernatural firepower and stripped of any last remnants of his humanity—he ceases to be a man and becomes a force of retribution itself, echoing figures like the Grim Reaper or an Old Testament angel of death.

This section of Ancient History showcases Ennis’ ability to blend nihilistic grit with mythic grandeur. His writing is spare yet thunderous, complemented by Steve Pugh’s moody, cinematic artwork that captures both the bleakness of the frontier and the supernatural horror of the Saint’s rebirth.

Satirical Excess: The Good Old Boys

The weakest, though still entertaining, segment of the volume, The Good Old Boys, follows Jody and T.C., the sadistic enforcers from Jesse’s past, in a story that serves as a parody of hyper-masculine, over-the-top action films. Ennis leans fully into absurdist violence here, presenting a near self-parody of the ultra-violent tendencies that often define Preacher’sworld. While this story lacks the philosophical depth of the Saint of Killers arc, it does serve as an amusing, albeit grotesque, diversion. Carlos Ezquerra’s art, with its exaggerated lines and chaotic energy, enhances the comedic tone of the piece, but ultimately, this segment feels more like an indulgence than an essential narrative thread.

Tragedy in the Grotesque: The Story of You-Know-Who

Closing out the volume is The Story of You-Know-Who, a brutal yet oddly empathetic look at Arseface, one of Preacher’smost tragicomic figures. While Arseface often functions as a living joke within the series—a walking embodiment of cruelty and absurdity—this story contextualizes his pain. His transformation from an abused, neglected teenager to his eventual self-inflicted disfigurement is not played purely for laughs but as a bitterly ironic critique of hero worship, self-destruction, and the toxic consequences of misplaced admiration (in this case, of Kurt Cobain).

Ennis’ sharpest weapon has always been his ability to balance vulgar satire with genuine pathos, and The Story of You-Know-Who embodies that tension perfectly. Richard Case’s art is appropriately raw and expressive, lending an unsettlingly grotesque edge to Arseface’s descent.

Final Thoughts: Thematic Resonance and Narrative Experimentation

While Preacher, Volume 4: Ancient History does not advance the primary storyline, it is far from filler. Instead, it serves as a thematic deepening, offering three divergent yet interconnected meditations on fate, violence, and the nature of suffering. Ennis continues to wield his signature blend of hyper-violent satire, Western mythos, and existential despair, pushing the boundaries of what comic storytelling can achieve.

For those invested in the world of Preacher, this volume is essential—not because of plot progression, but because it enriches the series’ emotional and thematic core. The Saint of Killers emerges as an even more terrifying specter, Arseface gains a tragic dimension that makes his future appearances more poignant, and even the exaggerated antics of Jody and T.C. serve as a reminder of the series’ willingness to mock itself.

Garth Ennis remains, as always, a provocateur, a storyteller unafraid of excess, and a master of turning pulp fiction into something bordering on the mythic.