The Ethical Zombie: A Review of The Walking Med: Zombies and The Medical Image

This review offers insight into the collection The Walking Med: Zombies and The Medical Image edited by Lorenzo Servitje and Sherryl Vint (Penn State Press, 2016) by putting it into the context of George A Romero’s recent death (16 July 2017), and the lasting legacy his work has had on the social and political efficiency of the zombie. In particular this review will trace a shift to a more medicalised version of the zombie in contemporary film, television, and especially in comics, which in turn raises numerous questions regarding the neoliberalisation of healthcare, the limitations of so-called ‘lifesaving’ treatments, the status of the ill, disabled, and elderly, and the pressures of working within a medical environment, showing how the zombie is used a metaphoric tool to educate, undermine assumptions, and pose ethical questions.

1968. Although Romero himself claimed that this was not a conscious decision on his part, and that Jones had simply given the best audition, Jones understood the racial implications of his role, discussing the films themes with Romero during the shooting and even suggesting the films ending, in which his character is killed by a group of white zombie hunters that closely resemble a lynch mob. The racial implications of such a scene are such that director Jordan Peele recently acknowledged the huge influence NOTD had on his racially charged breakout directorial debut Get Out (2017).
Whilst this racialised history is acknowledged in the introduction to Lorenzo  focus seems especially pertinent given the recent attempts to repeal the Affordable Care Act in America (Flynn 2017), the underfunding and privatization by stealth of the National Health Service in the UK (Davis, Lister and Wrigley 2015, El-Gingihy 2015, Tallis 2013, as well as the recent crisis in social care. Such a perspective is useful for cutting through any initial skepticism that might paint such a link as tenuous and trivial at best, grounding the zombie in a lived reality.
In the opening essay "Don't Point That Gun At My Mum: Geriatric Zombies," Gerry Canavan considers the zombie as a stand in for an aging population that has resulted from medical advancements but has led to a rise in illnesses such as Alzheimer's and Parkinson's, the symptoms of which-slow-moving bodies, forgetfulness, violent outbursts, and changes in personality-closely resemble the effects of zombification. Canavan suggests that the frequent trope in zombie texts of having to kill a loved one in order to save them from the horrors of infection, echoes witnessing the gradual erosion of a family members sense of self due to dementia, brings to light ethical debates concerning assisted suicide for those with severe disabilities or terminal conditions. As Canavan himself suggests, the zombie, on a deeper level, is 'actually about reproducing and/or critically reexamining cultural narratives about who in real-world society is "killable" and who is not' (Canavan run the risk of becoming zombies themselves. Barnett and Kooyman note that this segregation harks back to the view of the East End of London and its working class inhabitants as being diseased (Batnett and Kooyman 2016: 57). Access to the cure is restricted to the upper classes, and although the comic is set during an alternative Edwardian timeline, it echoes the current healthcare debate in America, something that is picked up again in Kari Nixon's contribution to the collection "Viral Virulence, Postmodern Zombies, and the American Healthcare Enterprise in the Antibiotic Age".
As well as the inequality of access to healthcare, Nixon's essay deals with the moral fallout of the zombie narrative, and the questionable decisions that must be made in the name of survival. In the comic series Crossed (2008-2010) a group of adults kill the children they are with in order to quicker escape the articulate, intelligent, and sexually depraved zombies that threaten them. This can be seen as a multifaceted metaphor that can be directed at the American healthcare system, the general callousness of politics, the potential abuses of medical science, and the increasing erasure of human decency.
This last point reflects a growing trend in zombie texts, first introduced by Romero, and resurfacing again in the slow shuffling zombies of The Walking Dead, in which the humans actually pose the biggest threat to themselves. This turns the dehumanisation of the zombie on its head by suggesting that the more the humans have to do in order to survive, the less human they become. The kind of apocalyptic scenarios that occur in the zombie genre, according to Nixon, encourages 'the viral spread of our own vicious impulses and has duly rendered us the unthinking, shambling zombies incapable of feeling affect' (Nixon 2016: 48).
These essays, and indeed this collection as a whole, mark a sympathetic turn to the zombie that is reflected in contemporary film and TV which are told from the point of view of the zombie such as Warm Bodies (2013) Zombies, Comics, and Medical Education" considers another form of zombification, the extreme pressures of life as a medical student. Green, whose course teaching his students to create comics based on their experiences forms the basis for this essay, admits to being skeptical of the theme of this collection at first, stating that he is neither a fan of the zombie nor sees any link to medicine. It soon becomes apparent, however, that this is not the case. Without prompting them, the zombie becomes a regular feature, whether explicitly or not, of his student's comics, being used to express themes such as isolation, the erasure of empathy, the loss of human connection, and fear of becoming a fatigued member of the bureaucratic herd.
This last theme is something that takes on added relevance when placed against the backdrop of the ongoing junior doctor contact dispute and dangerous levels of understaffing in the National Health Service. Therefore this essay becomes a means of articulating the way in which the zombie alerts Green to potential problems and solutions within medical training, commenting that 'it is nevertheless alarming that these students see medical school as something to be endured rather than an oppor- witnessing. Smith goes on to suggest that it is the act of creation for Katie, which is visually referred to throughout the comic both literally and metaphorically, which re-inscribes agency to her act of witnessing and allows her to become human again.
Whilst this is an astute observation, it fails to take into account the limitations of such a cathartic view of creation. The zombie in this collection therefore, is transformed from a mindless, passive figure, into an active metaphor and a critical tool with which to explore the limitations of scientific and medical knowledge. In particular the zombie becomes an ethical position with which to address a multitude of political issues within medical science. This collection posits the zombie as a shared metaphor that evolves over time in response to historical and cultural stimuli. As Michael Green states in his chapter, metaphors are "good to think with," (Green, George and Wilkinson 2016: 99) are good tools for expressing the inexpressible, and therefore zombies are good to think with too.
This collection also demonstrates the zombie as a practical and educational tool, as in Sherryl Vint's chapter on the Centre for Disease Control's comic (Centre for Disease Control and Prevention 2015) detailing how to prepare for and survive a zombie apocalypse. This topic turns a seemingly tenuous and trivial subject into one that can not only fit into the broader aims of Graphic Medicine, but can give a fresh perspective on the genre/discipline as a whole, as well as the topics explored within, undermining and critiquing any potential prejudices and assumptions. Beautifully presented, with numerous illustrations and figures, this collection will make the reader approach the zombie with fresh eyes, applying it to contemporary social and political issues in such a way that would have made Romero proud.