Berserk Deluxe Edition Volume 1 by Kentaro Miura
Blurb:
A stunning deluxe edition collecting volumes 1–3 of the New York Times bestselling adult fantasy horror manga—now presented in the original oversized serialization format!
Experience Berserk as never before in this collector’s item featuring a leatherette hardcover, red foiling, a ribbon bookmark, and larger-than-life art.
Have you got the Guts? Kentaro Miura's Berserk has outraged, horrified, and delighted manga and anime fanatics since 1989, creating an international legion of hardcore devotees and inspiring a plethora of TV series, feature films, and video games.
Now the badass champion of adult fantasy manga is presented as it was originally intended—in an oversized serialization format! This high-quality deluxe edition includes:
Berserk Volumes 1–3
7" x 10" leatherette hardcover and binding
Red foiling details and ribbon bookmark
Oversized art by Kentaro Miura
With nearly 700 pages, this is the ultimate collector’s item for new and longtime fans. Complete your manga set of Berserk Deluxe Editions and immerse yourself in the Berserk universe as never before. No Guts, no glory!
For mature audiences.
Review:
Forgive me brothers and sisters, for I am no “Berserk” expert. I’d barely register as a novice in the world of manga. But be that as it may, I am still a deep admirer of the franchise—its brutal style, its enduring power, and the influence it continues to exert. Today, the series that started in 1990 is still going strong in the hands of Kouji Mori, a close friend of creator Kentaro Miura, who passed away in 2021.
In the years since its inception, attempts have been made to adapt it, with mixed success. I first engaged with the franchise through the anime, but it left me wanting. However, I don’t give up that easily. I eagerly turned to the manga’s first volume, seemingly small and approachable as it was. I was alternatively daunted by the massive Deluxe Versions that combine three volumes into one, preferring instead to first carefully dip my toes into the water. In some ways, that was a mistake. I quickly found you don’t just dip your toes into “Berserk.” You have to go all in, and meet it on its own heavy-metal terms.
Unflinching, grotesque, ultra-violent. The world of “Berserk” is brimming with evil, its volumes’ black ink melt through its pages like acid, and stain your culpable fingers beneath, while above, the noxious fumes rise to infect your head and pound against your skull like an unending thrum of an unholy choir. It’s a full on assault, and I couldn’t put it down. Volumes 2 & 3 joined my shelves shortly after. I should have started with the Deluxe version.
Miura drew from a rich array of historical references to concoct this poison. Throughout these first three volumes, in full page spreads you see clear inspirations from past painters and character tropes. Renaissance compositions, Comic Book Superhero archetypes, M.C. Escher’s reality-bending geometric prints, and more. There’s a wealth of reference material on display, and notably, much of it is Western in origin. This gives “Berserk” the advantage of translating these origins through a new lens to create a unique medieval setting from a Japanese perspective. Going from M.C. Escher’s “Relativity” to Miura’s “Law of Causality,” It’s a black love-letter to those Western inspirations, one that cuts like a rusty knife. They haven’t bled so freely in years.
With a setup like this, it’s no wonder the characters are as deeply troubled as they are. Guts in particular appears deeply uncaring for the troubles of the world. Cold, mean, and stubborn, he tries to only look out for himself. At his disposal is a large variety of weaponry, but chief among them is his legendary black sword. An impossible weapon, larger than Guts himself, one that obliterates enemies:
“It was much too big to be called a sword. Massive, thick, heavy and far too rough, indeed it was like a heap of raw iron.”
I love this weapon. It’s the trademark to the series, arguably above the Brand icon that’s seared into both Guts’ neck and the physical volume covers. The blade gives him his moniker, “The Black Swordsman,” and grabs your eye like a moth to flame. It forces you to confront the question of who is Guts, and what is he about that he can even lift this iconic sword, let alone use it masterfully to enact his vengeance and rage?
And yet, against his better judgment he still finds himself trying to help others. Unfortunately, it’s always followed up with some kind of perversion of benevolence. Whether it backfires horrendously, or the help is twisted to be self-serving, in these early frames he always comes out selfish and even more disconnected from others than before. It’s his armor from the horrors that surround him. He’s an extreme outcome of what so many of us go through, especially boys in adolescence, who find whatever weapons and shields we can to help cope with the horrors of their own realities.
Meanwhile the elf, Puck, isn’t nearly as pessimistic. The tiny flying creature with healing powers was saved by Guts in the first chapter. He seems aloof to the severity and evils of the world, which are underscored by the fact he found himself immediately in need of saving. This encounter left him in search of wanting to understand why a savage swordsman like Guts could want to save him to begin with. The excuse of selfishness doesn’t satisfy him, so he keeps digging, trying to understand, and working to keep the swordsman alive while himself serving as a point of view stand-in for the reader. He’s critical for our interpretation and entry into the story, and without his perspective, I’d find these initial arcs nearly as impenetrable as Malazan Book of the Fallen.
And so throughout these opening chapters, Guts is confronted by even more unwelcomed allies, and Puck is continually baffled at his open disdain for them. He wants to know him better, and challenges him as to why he doesn’t help more people. It’s a surprise he takes the time to answer at all:
“If someone can’t live their life the way they please, they might as well die.”
While Puck fails to understand him intellectually, he does begin to know him emotionally. There’s an unexplained bond there that allows him to feel his emotions as his own. By feeling them for himself, he comes to understand some truth of him, seeing that for some inexplicable reason, he is in a prison he can’t escape.
“His…His emotions are pouring into me! My chest… It’s burning!!”
This tension and tragic cycle of Guts helping, hurting, and struggling to free himself of the Brand is central to everything in the opening volumes. It gives purpose to why I care about him, beyond his awe-inspiring sword, of course.
He struggles through an oppressive world, one that is dark, besieged, and full of evil. Beyond Puck, there is very little room for hope or optimism on the surface. This unending blackness can feel tedious, nearing the “banality of evil” status, but we do see a huge variety of different types of foes we go up against.
Miura’s imagination is at its most potent when dreaming up these horrific enemies to confront Guts. Immortal demons, mutated humans, alien-like creatures, giants, skeletons, reanimated undead, godlike Great Ones. The worst monsters, as always, are humans. Too power hungry and evil in ways that leave their humanity behind in search of a tainted divinity. The Count is a formidable opening foil of rotten inhumanity, exemplifying this fall like a perfectly executed gesture drawing, if one with much more body horror and slimy tentacles. Griffin, on the other hand, attempts to maintain a veneer of Super Hero-like perfection to a degree it seems out of place. I hope as we get to learn more about him we’ll uncover even more horrible tales and backstory. But put this carnival horrorshow of monsters together and you see a picture full of beautifully black stuff.
The genre is not just medieval fantasy, nor is it even just Dark Fantasy. We twist and graft onto it Lovecraftian elements and interdimensional pocket universes. We see viscerally unsettling torture and families massacre each other. Nothing is off limits in this hell.
To survive day in and day out requires a level of skill and mental fortitude that would make even the mad Max Rockatansky blush. So how does Guts do it? Sure, he has his impressive arsenal of weaponry. In addition to his sword, there’s also the prosthetic left arm with an integrated semi-automatic crossbow, plus a huge cannon built right into his stump. But beyond what he has at his disposal without, it’s what’s within him that matters even more.
The Will and Grit needed to constantly grind forward boggles the mind. The tension is so intense, and Guts knows he can’t save everyone. It becomes so heated, he won’t even try to. He’d instead let people die who he could have tried to save. It’s all just too much. This world, his enemies, the prison of his Brand, all of it a constant assault upon the body and psyche. For him, the only way to move forward is to close off his heart, prune back his own humanity and surrender to the chaos. To go Berserk.
The legacy of this dramatis is by now legendary. The medieval European setting. The Christian motifs, with a focus on heretics, pagans and religious purity. We see Miura pull from this history to help redefine Dark Fantasy, and as a result, different media over the last twenty years have responded back. Studio FromSoftware in particular has taken note, with Game Director Hidetaka Miyazaki leading the charge in borrowing huge “Berserk” inspirations for their various video games. Final Fantasy and Castlevania have also been heavily influenced.
It’s interesting there’s an inordinately larger influence in video game media compared to other mediums. No doubt its role in proselytizing Dark Fantasy was more widespread than even the obvious influences would have us believe, and virtually any brooding protagonist with a massive sword can likely be linked back to this ubiquitous series. But as it seems to enjoy a recent renaissance of popularity, I wonder if its influence will continue to spread to other new properties as well. I certainly hope so.
So, here we are. If you haven’t yet checked out “Berserk” for yourself and are still wondering if this is for you, I’d first say, please check the trigger warnings. Then after that, go forth and bathe in black blood.
Specifically, if you’re intrigued by violent Dark Fantasy, iconic protagonists, and page after page of gripping art, then these opening volumes are going to be a delight. In fact, I’d recommend, unlike me, checking out the Deluxe Editions first, especially if you can get a deal. It’s all told with action and emotion with a distinctive style. The introduction to chapters have illustrations in a smooth, charcoal-like texture. These “softer” intros help set the groundwork for a mythic, faerie tone to the story that feels unique and juxtaposes nicely against the much more technical and graphic remainder of the chapters.
And if you want a good story, like I do, well I think we’re in for quite a journey here, because these character developments look to be patient, deep, and in no rush to provide a balm to the horrors that persist. I hope the payoff is worth it.
For me, “Berserk” is heavier, darker, more grotesque, and more brutal than I ever imagined. And this comes from someone experienced with the different IPs inspired by it. Reading these volumes did not take long, but they’re thick in content, needled deep into me, and have stuck around for a long time now. I’m ready to meet it on its own terms and couldn’t be looking forward to the next volumes more. Consider these loins girded.
