This issue offers us a compelling look into the operation at Woodbury that the Governor has established. This is a man who cut a limb off Rick and raped Michonne all while making a traumatized Glenn listen. He seems an utterly irredeemable monster, and yet he appears on some level to care for some people in his orbit. However, I would posit that the word APPEARS is the operative one here. Just as the Governor put on a show in front of the mother and her rambunctious children, this is a man who can generate the illusion that he cares about others. He may even fool himself at times. But the only people he really cares about are those who can give him something. It’s not about making their lives better and certainly not about loving them. A man who can so casually torture and rape a woman is incapable of any emotion resembling genuine love.

His relationship with his zombified “daughter” Penny is symbolic of every relationship in his life at this point. His action of keeping Penny as a domesticated zombie pet does her no good. She’s still dead, and the humane thing would be to put her down so she can at least be put to rest. No, the Governor keeps her around simply because it gratifies a need he has on some level. He shows kindness to the pathetic Bob Stookey not because he considers Bob a friend but because he gets some kind of power trip out of making someone like Bob dependent on him. He plays the role of lovable public leader because he gets a kick out of playing God, and those under his purview are okay with letting him do that so long as they are protected. Dr. Stevens and Alice seem like nice people, but they deceive themselves if they believe safety is ever really possible while they have cast in their lot with the Governor. One can only live in the same cage with a monster for so long without getting hurt. It’s inevitable.

Watching the broken and anguished expression on Glenn’s face as he was forced to hear what the Governor inflicted on Michonne was exactly as I felt while reading this issue. I wanted to sit in a corner and cry just like Glenn because these characters I have come to care about are suffering in ways they might never recover from. How does a woman (even one so resilient and capable as Michonne) come back from being violated in such a dehumanizing way? How can Rick (even if he gets out of this current situation) ever be the competent leader again now that he has only one hand? Watching the Governor casually toss Rick’s severed hand to his ever-hungry “daughter” like it was just another piece of meat is oddly what disturbed me the most in this issue (and that’s saying something). That one irreverent action chilled me to the bone because it so effectively communicated that nothing concerning our heroes was sacred. There is nothing inside him that would hesitate to destroy them (or worse) in an instant should he grow weary of them or no longer require their services. These characters whose journeys we have followed and, yes, who we care about mean little more than another peace of meat to this psychotic Governor, and that fact is more terrifying than any zombie. more