52: 39-52

I finished reading 52 yesterday, and the last volume was at times exhilarating, at times very frustrating. It wasn’t a particularly definitive finale, but on the whole, I’m happy with the way things turned out. The book doesn’t work as a standalone story, there’s some resolution for the various plots, but it’s really more of a look at an ever evolving narrative universe. A piece is excerpted here, and from this point, it will continue to evolve.

The first few issues in this volume are easily the weakest, probably of the series as a whole. We start with the resolution of the Steel/Luthor arc, the weak point of the book for its entire run, and not particularly compelling here. One of the major problems was the fluctuating nature of the everyman powers, and the fact that Steel just wasn’t as compelling a character as the people in the other plotlines. I was glad to see this one resolve itself, but it wasn’t very compelling in and of itself.

From there, we move to the resolution for Ralph Dibny, in what is another one of the series’ worst issues. One of my major issues with the creators of the series is that they constantly go for the all is not as it appears kind of plot twist that requires an entire issue of backstory to fill in what really happened. This happened with Booster Gold and his false death, and it happens here again, where we have to get an infodump from Ralph to explain his real plan and the tricking of the faux Dr. Fate. This issue also suffers from the fact that it goes into really obscure DC material, and without knowing who Faust is, the story doesn’t do much for me emotionally.

The early issues of the book worked because they made you care about these characters, even if you had no idea who they were before reading the series. Here, the story feels like a copout and makes no sense to me. I don’t really care why Ralph should want to trap this guy in eternity, and I got basically no emotion from his death at all. It’s a lame resolution for what was a really cool plotline, and takes a character off the board in a lackluster way. I’m sure he’ll be back at some point, but this issue was just lame and bad. Reading these first couple of issues, I was hoping Grant wasn’t writing anything because I don’t want to think he could do something so misguided. Admittedly, part of the problem could be that I just wasn’t into the series, and what would have made sense coming immediately after #39 feels nonsensical after a couple of months off. But, that would just make these issues a little better, they are still deeply flawed on a structural and emotional level.

Once those first couple of issues are out of the way, things start to pick up. The stuff with Renee has consistently been one of the strongest plotlines in the series. She’s a character who feels real and relatable, and her journey to becoming the Question is well paced and emotionally believable. I love the stuff in Nanada Parbat, particularly the issue with Giuseppe Cannucoli, whose art reminds me of Ryan Sook’s work on Zatanna. I actually thought that Wonder Woman was Zatanna, and was a bit disappointed to read in the backmatter that she wasn’t.

Still, I did really like the moment later on when Diana encounters Rama Kushna and is told to go out and live with her new human failings. That’s the kind of moment where a genre element is used to create an emotion that can’t be replicated in real life. It’s this pure acceptance of humanity’s limits and potential, and I think there’s something humbling about it. Rama Kushna may be an old DC character, I don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s a universally relatable concept that anyone can understand. I think that’s the difference between a lot of the series’ good moments and it’s weaker ones. When things are working, the characters feel fresh and real, when things aren’t working, you are left to assume that this character is in there because they must have been in some cool stories in the past.

One of my favorite character reinventions in the series is the absurdly over the top Chang Tzu. He’s simultaneously a totally ridiculous figure and extremely menacing. That they could make a giant egg into a credible villain is an amazing accomplishment. The issue where the Oolong Island scientists prepare for Black Adam’s invasion is one of the best, a nice mix of humor and real menace. I also like the motivation for their villainy, that they see themselves as part of an ongoing nerds vs. superjocks battle, and want to use their intelligence to defeat the naturally gifted, athletic heroes. That’s an interesting spin on things, and fits with what Morrison did with Luthor in All Star Superman. How do you deal with the fact that no matter how smart you are, no matter what you do, you’ll never be able to match up with a superhero? That’s not the message we get from a world that is supposed to reward intelligence and hard work.

That brings us to the major throughline of these issues, Black Adam’s assault on the world. I think this is clumsily handled. The buildup is fantastic, particularly Osiris’s accidental killing of the Suicide Squad guy. Here, we get the twist that Sobek is evil, and an assault by the four horsemen on Kandhaq. I love the idea that this Death is the literal embodiment of Death, and that in fighting him, he can somehow defeat all death and save his nation.

The thing that kills the story for me is when Isis tells Black Adam that he was originally right, and should go out and destroy the humans who called the Horsemen down. In the backmatter, they hail this as a brilliant twist, I think it’s a complete betrayal, and nonsensical decision from the character, undermining everything they’ve built up about her earlier in the story. This is an ordinary woman at heart, and even if she’s been a god for a while, I don’t think she would give in to hate in this way. I suppose you could make it work, in her grief for her people and her brother, but the story just doesn’t play that way for me.

Instead, it feels like their goal was to make Black Adam go nuts, and the story justification came second. I never felt the same rage that I did in, say, the Dark Willow storyline at the end of season six. There, I disapproved of her killing Warren, but could totally understand it. Here, his reaction is so over the top that there’s no way to justify it. The conflict is removed by the fact that Isis has taken away any moral conflict. He can justify anything by saying he is doing her will, whereas if she had told him to not to take revenge, there would be great internal conflict. We basically lose all the development Black Adam went through over the course of the series once he snaps, and get no sense of remorse or uncertainty about his destruction. It’s a regression, and really doesn’t work for me.

What does work is aforementioned Oolong Island attack issue. My favorite moment is Veronica Cale’s delusional walk out to meet Adam. I love how she tells him “I made the things that killed your family, you arrogant alpha-prick.” She wants to be this badass villain, but winds herself neglected when it comes time for the action scene, and she just wanders off. There’s something so powerful in Adam just passing her by. Fiction is weird, why do certain small moments like this work, while other moments, like the hugely built up Adam conflict stuff, fail? What gives something meaning? I don’t know, I guess it depends on every individual reader. Are the best stories the ones that resonate with the most people, or are they ones that hit a few people on a deep, soul changing level?

Anyway, Will Magnus gets some pretty cool stuff in these last issues. I like his use of the little Metal Men to defeat Chang Tzu. He’s a very 60s style hero, as reflected in the fantastic Bondesque J.G. Jones cover with him firing the Metal Men bullets. Oolong started off a little confusing, but once I got to know all the people, it was consistently one of the most satisfying plotlines.

The big confrontation with Black Adam is very Miraclemanesque. It’s well done, but I can’t help the feeling that Miracleman #15 pretty much owns this kind of story. What I did love here was the glimpses of some Seven Soldiers characters, particularly the Zatanna cameo. I think it’s a testament to the power of what Grant did that characters who were in five issues can have me literally exclaiming “Bulleteer!” or “Guardian!” It doesn’t make much sense for them to be there, particularly Alix, who gave up heroing at the end of the series, but whatever. It’s great that Zatanna gets a speaking part, doing a lower scale version of her Ekirts sreidloS neveS command from 7S#1.

Another standout moment in this volume is Buddy’s return to Ellen. The goings on with the yellow aliens were a bit disappointing, we didn’t get anything new, just an echo of what happened in the original book. I suppose it’s still cool, but I would have liked to see that story integrated with the evolving DC cosmology Morrison presented in Seven Soldiers.

Regardless, the return of Buddy to Earth as a glowing sun god is fantastic. It feels totally real and yet dazzling at the same time. It’s been a long journey back home, and it’s great to see him get back. I also really like the moment where Kory finally shows up at Buddy’s house and Ellen quips, “Did Roger hire a stripper?” The subsequent moment where Cliff calls her an “E.T. with DD’s” is awful, but doesn’t kill the moment. I just hope Morrison didn’t write that line. Either way, consisting Buddy’s always been kind of the sitcom character of the DCU, it makes sense to go out on a cheesy joke before the credits. Sadly, I find myself tempted to read Countdown to Adventure to get the further adventures of Kory and Buddy back on Earth.

Things then shift tones drastically for the final issue of the series. While I like the revelations about the multiverse, I feel like they kind of come out of nowhere. There was set up early in the series, but not much in the second half, and to have what is in theory the climax of the series revolve around it is a bit odd. Still, with the background of Crisis on Infinite Earths and Infinite Crisis, this actually made sense to me, and it’s pretty exciting to get a miniature Crisis happen in one issue. Booster’s one of the series’ stronger characters, and the tour through the other worlds is a success.

While this technically isn’t the old multiverse, it’s pretty close, and opens up some new storytelling possibilities for the DCU. I like the craziness of the multiverse, and I think this new multiverse will avoid a lot of the problems of the old one. There is now one definitive Superman, one definitive Batman, etc. so the other Earths can be more about exploring stories that don’t fit into mainstream DC continuity. The rebirth of Uncle Sam and his crew on their own world puts them in a place that makes more storytelling sense. It doesn’t necessarily work as a dramatic resolution for 52, but as an end in itself, it’s a success.

The final pages of the series do a nice job of wrapping things up, though the final moment is a bit odd. It’s not so much an ending as a stopping point, and I’m not sure why “Are you ready” is the last thing. I guess 52 was a prelude for the DCU to come, and now we’re being asked if we’re ready for it. I would have gone for more of a stasis moment.

Ultimately, I think 52 was a big success. It made a lot of characters I was familiar with into fully realized people who I want to read more about. It deepened and expanded the universe, and made it into a more exciting place. That was the mission of the book, and along the way, it told some great stories. As a cohesive narrative, I don’t think it was a complete success, but the good outweighed the bad. It’s a shame that Countdown is apparently awful because I think a weekly book about the DCU, the backbone of the universe, would be great. You should be able to read that book and get a glimpse of what’s going on all around, while the character monthlies give more background on other stories.

Most importantly, I think 52 really benefited from being a year without the big three. Much like Seven Soldiers, the focus on lower level heroes makes for a more dramatic story. People can die, and there are legitimate struggles because these aren’t gods, they’re just people trying their best to be like those icons. I particularly like how we see the human side of Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman, even they can’t live up to the image of themselves. The stories that were most successful, like Renee’s and Buddy’s, were about real people in a crazy universe trying to make their lives better. It was relatable, and weren’t as dependent on previous continuity.

The biggest problem with the series was the seeming acceptance of all that’s bad about comic writing. It takes away the emotional impact of stories to have characters routinely coming back from the dead, and the frequent reliance on obscure DC continuity presented a problem. Ralph Dibny’s story was the biggest victim of that.

But, considering the scale of the undertaking, I think it was a big success, and would love to read another weekly book. I hope the Busiek/Bagley DC weekly is good because it’s a lot of fun to pick up Messiah Complex every week, and I’d imagine reading 52 every week was equally interesting. Much like a TV show, a weekly book can become a part of your life, something that makes Wednesday a little special, and maybe that’s why art exists, to bring some excitement and craziness to everyday routine. This book was certainly exciting and crazy, in the way that only comics can be. While I cracked on the book for its comic book failings, I have to hail it for doing what only a shared universe like this can do, to delve into eighty years of backstory and come out with something that feels simultaneously new and part of a long legacy is quite an accomplishment. It wasn’t always perfect, but on the whole, this was a great series, and I’m eagerly awaiting my next trip back to the DCU, Grant Morrison’s Final Crisis!

And, for those of you wondering where comics will take me next, as I mentioned above, I’ve been reading Messiah Complex every week. It’s got some issues, but is pretty compelling so far. Last night, I read the first issue of the Dark Tower comic, which was just so on, I was surprised by how fucking good it was. I loved those books, and to see the world realized in visual form was frankly awesome. I’m not sure if all the issues will live up to that first one, but so far, it’s brilliant, a great addition to the book’s universe. It helps that I read the books a while ago, so the stories do exist in a sort of hazy, archetypal form, rather than some kind of definitive interpretation that should be stuck to. So, look for more about that book in the future, as well as some writing on Messiah Complex, and eventually a look at the third volume of Kirby’s Fourth World omnibus.

52: Volume 3

After thoroughly enjoying 52: Volume 1, I had a few issues with the direction of the series in Volume II. The tightly focused character threads started to slip, and more and more obscure DC characters were layered on. However, this Volume, which moves the story into its final act, is a lot tighter and more emotional, taking the characters through a variety of really wrenching moments and providing some moments of crazy Morrisonian genius. The series still has its issues, but it’s so entertaining and addictive, they don’t really bother me. There’s a whole bunch of plot strands running through these issues, let me tackle them one at a time.

The stuff with the mad scientist island didn’t grab me for the first couple of issues. The concept was good, but the execution was a bit off. However, over the course of these issues we get more development and an increasing level of insanity. The craziest thing here is Egg Fu. The very concept of this character, a giant evil egg, is so ridiculous, and here he’s turned into a legitimately menacing villain. The highlight is the Thanksgiving dinner issue, but pretty much any moment with Egg Fu was gold.

Along with this, we get some great stuff with Will Magnus and Veronica Cale, journeying on opposite trajectories. Will starts out as the only one on the island with a conscience, but is forced off his meds, off towards insanity. This is a classic conundrum, the character whose medicine strips him of his genius. The insanity and the genius are wrapped up in each other. Veronica Cale is more interesting, at first a gloriously immoral femme fatale, she is humbled by an encounter with the gods they summon. In the moment she summons them, you can see her enthusiasm turn to fear, recognizing the reality of what she’s done. I’m guessing things won’t go well for her in the next volume, as her creation gets out of her control.

Arguably the major plot thread of these issues was Charlie’s gradual journey to death. This was really well executed, making good use of the real time format. We could witness him succumbing to the illness, the cold reality of cancer intruding on the fantasy world of these characters. This was some sad stuff, full of really nice moments between Renee and Charlie. I like the way they brought Kate Kane in, and the closing journey to Nanda Parbat was suitably epic.

As Renee trudged through the snow, the story moved beyond traditional narrative and became an allegorical representation of her state of mind at the time. She’s pressing on through this endless white expanse, getting help from no one, unwilling to admit that Charlie is going to die, there’s nothing she can do about it. In the end, she collapses and gives up, he passes on, and she accepts it. The journey doesn’t make that much sense from a reality based point of view, but as a metaphor for her mental state, it’s perfect.

I also loved the intercutting of the New Year’s Eve countdown in the hospital room with Luthor cutting the powers on the Everymen. While the Everymen storyline, particularly the Steel and Nat stuff, was by far the weakest storyline, that was a really powerful moment. They broke out of the grids used throughout the series for a wide expansive intercut double page spread, gradually pressing towards the tragedy of all these superpeople falling to Earth. It was great to have Phil Jiminez cameo for the aftermath, a tragic descent for these would be heroes.

Thematically, the Everyman Project is tough to fit in with Grant’s recent work. In his last JLA storyline, World War III, he empowered every citizen and they all flew up to fight with the heroes. It was a wonderful moment, illustrating humanity’s potential. In Seven Soldiers, we witness a lot of ordinary people struggling to be extraordinary, to be heroes. There, a group of wannabes gets murdered by the Sheeda in the first issue. Those characters were more obsessed with the idea of being superheroes then with doing the work that goes into actually being a superhero.

For Morrison, and the genre in general, the goal is to maximize your potential. Batman is doing as much as any human can, training his body and mind, and using technology to be the ultimate crime fighter. In All Star, Superman does more, he is beyond simple interpersonal conflict and seeks to move the world forward. In Seven Soldiers, the characters all struggle through a series of obstacles that forces them to grow and in the end, their unique talents help them to defeat the Sheeda. The characters in #0 all rush into battle without training, their goal is to be a superhero first, to do good second. In Morrison’s worldview, heroism is all about responsibility. It can be fun, but it’s also a burden to carry. The real heroes are the ones who can carry that burden, and risk their lives for others. It is not about doing violence, frequently peace is the better route.

Considering his focus on evolution, you’d think Grant would embrace Luthor’s Everyman Program as an easy way to move humanity forward. But, in the end, the Everyman Program is proven false. I’m not sure how much input Grant had on this decision, and there’s also the fact that the DCU can’t just have anyone who wants to being a superhero, however, I do think what happens here fits in with the portrait of heroism Morrison’s been creating. Like Gimmix or Sally Sonic, these characters just want power and fame, they’re not committed to living with the responsibility of their powers. That’s what we see in the dichotomy between Nat and the other members of Infinity Inc.

Did the story have to go this way? I do think it would have been cool to explore more of the way that ordinary people reacted to the program. However, it does fit. There was an inevitability to the end of Everyman, and at least this conclusion fits it within GM’s worldview. There is danger in accepting power from an unreliable source, the greatest strength comes from within. That’s not to say people couldn’t have done great things with these powers, as Bulleteer did after having power forced on her, but in this case, they made a deal with the devil, and the devil doesn’t play fair.

It’s interesting looking at this Lex Luthor in light of the Luthor from All Star Superman. Both are obsessed with Superman, desperate to compete with this ideal even though they never can. One of the best scenes here is the moment where Lex has Clark completely at his mercy, but asks only about Supernova, mixing the chance to bust Clark once and for all. He is motivated by jealousy and lust for power, not the need to do good. That seems to be the problem with all the Everyman heroes, they’re doing it for selfish reasons.

Elsewhere, we get major development for the space heroes. Lady Styx didn’t work that well for me, partially because we get the random cosmic civilization that doesn’t really mean anything to me. Much like the Shiar in X-Men, there’s just a whole bunch of people with no definition or grounding. The bigger problem is that Lady Styx feels like a retread of Gloriana from Seven Soldiers, she’s got the same color palette and world conquering tendencies. Her death is a bit quick, I’d rather have seen her stick around to menace the DCU, or perhaps build her up as more of a threat so the payoff when she’s defeated is better.

While I have issues with the handling of some of that stuff, I did really like the fight against her. Lobo gets provoked and finally snaps out of his pacifism in a fun, over the top scene. What really makes it work is the connection between Kori, Adam Strange and Buddy. I like the way that Kori wears his Animal Man outfit, and the moment where Buddy yells out that he believes in his family moments before Adam flies in shooting is one of those perfect blends of action and emotion that Morrison does so well. These three are a great team, and it’s sad that they’re separated when Animal Man dies.

I hadn’t heard about Animal Man dying in the series, so I was figuring this wasn’t going to stick. It bothered me to do another resurrection, so soon after bringing back Booster as Supernova, particularly after the great emotional stuff involving his wife’s sadness and Kori’s tears. However, that trepidation was all wiped away with the return of the yellow aliens from Morrison’s Animal Man run. They were like the Seven Unknown Men of that series, agents of the authorial hand in the DC Universe. I’m curious to see where Buddy goes from here, is it another metatextual journey? Side note, I really have to reread Morrison’s Animal Man.

The other big storyline focused on the Black Marvel family, and their struggle to be accepted by the mainstream superhero community. This storyline is primarily interesting for the way it illustrates the impact that point of view makes on audience response to a story. The Black Marvel family is almost saintly in what they’re doing, and I’m totally behind them, but the world just won’t listen. They can’t accept the idea that Black Adam has reformed, and consequently, set out to sabotage them. The ambush sequence is really effective, building a lot of momentum to the moment where Osiris flies right through one of the assassins. This is what would happen if people with unlimited power, but little training or discipline were let out into the world. The whole storyline brings back memories of Miracleman, and I’m guessing we’re heading into the dark stages soon. They are exiled from the world, and Black Adam can only stay saintly for so long. It’s hard to watch the cruel march of impending tragedy.

Perhaps the most Morrison of all the issues was Ralph Dibny’s trip to Nanda Parbat. Ralph’s been through a lot, and his stuff is generally entertaining, though rarely a highlight of the series. However, under the guidance of the perfectly named Accomplished Perfect Physician, Ralph goes through the same kind of transformative experience that Barbelith offers. It is revealed to Ralph that “There is no death. Death is an illusion of being in time.” Rama Kushna goes on to say that “No Love is wasted. No love is lost in time.” This all ties in with the Invisibles idea that all time exists simultaneously, so even if someone is dead, the moments they lived still exist. So, even though Sue is dead, the love they shared still exists and can never be destroyed. It’s nice to see this sort of conceptual stuff appear in a series that’s mainly concerned with exploring variations on the superhero narrative. My guess is, Ralph will be taken outside of time and get a chance to relive some moments with Sue, and come to terms with her death through that experience. We also get some meta discussion of writers and an end being written. Will this tie in with Buddy’s storyline? We shall see.

Finally, a brief discussion of the Batman issue. Personality as something we can put on and take off is key to Morrison’s work. Bruce Wayne has been wearing the Batman fiction suit so long it has become him, but the suit has been corrupted. In this issue, he kills that Batman and plans to rediscover the core of what was underneath. It’s a cool concept, and it’s nice to see Bruce getting a moment in the series.

That said, it’s a joy to read a DC book without the big three, or most of the really powerful heroes in general. Much like Seven Soldiers, this book digs into less prominent corners of the DCU and creates real characters out of minor figures in other books. There’s some really interesting people and concepts here, and I like how the ensemble structure takes us between them. I could see how it would get frustrating waiting weeks for a plot you like to return, but read in trade, I’ve got no real complaints about the way things are progressing. While I would have loved the weekly reading experience, there’s definitely advantages to the trade. I’d love to see “the band” come back for another weekly series like this, but it sounds like Morrison wouldn’t be up for that. Still, this is a wonderfully fun book full of crazy concepts and exciting characters, everything that a superhero book should be. I can’t wait for the fourth and final volume.

52: 1-13

As 52 was coming out, I was uncertain whether I’d ever bother reading it. I’ll give pretty much anything that Grant Morrison writes a look, but I wasn’t sure if it would be worth my time to slog through a book that was only a quarter Morrison. I thought that I didn’t have that much attachment to the DC Universe, and this seemed to be a project mired in obsessive continuity and obscure characters. But, with the first trade coming out at $20 for 13 issues, I figured it was worth a look and I am extremely happy that I did.

Growing up, I was always a bigger fan of the Marvel Universe than DC. The DC heroes were icons, inapproachable godlike characters, not the more relatable street level characters of Marvel’s books. Plus, DC had such a lengthy, convoluted history, it was impossible to keep track of who was who and what sort of relationships they had with each other. I think the DCU lacked any sort of direction, but recent years have seen increased focus and cohesion that’s led to some interesting books. While it was obviously a highly controversial and not entirely successful work, I admire Identity Crisis for crafting a story that has consequences and is a bedrock event other writers can work from. Having read that book, I can understand Zatanna’s motivation in her series, as well as Ralph’s in this book.

I didn’t read Infinite Crisis, so I’m not sure about the details of everything that led up to 52, but I’ve come to realize that’s not necessarily a problem. The book that turned me around on the DCU, and is the clear predecessor to this book, is Seven Soldiers. I loved that series like I have very few other works of fiction. Each of the seven miniseries was a seminal work for me, creating a character who I really wanted to see more of. While the series is self contained to some extent, it’s awesome to know that these characters have lives outside of the four issue series. So, seeing five of the soldiers turn up in issue 1 was incredible, as was the Ali Ka Zoom cameo in issue five.

But, beyond the specific joy of the series, what I loved about the series was its take on street level superheroes. The soldiers were ordinary people, living in the shadow of the legendary JLAers. Morrison has talked a lot about making the DCU sentient, and part of that is developing it beyond just those central characters, showing what life is like for both ordinary people and for lower level superheroes. Seeing the treatment of Superman and other high level superheroes in that book made it easier for me to understand Morrison’s JLA. Those characters weren’t meant to be approachable or traditionally human because they’re not. They are icons, gods, and they’re going to be fighting the biggest foes, while Bulleteer battles Sally Sonic down on Earth.

The mission of Seven Soldiers was to develop obscure DC characters into viable vehicles for future stories. It worked for me, I’d love to see someone tackle ongoing books with any of those characters. 52 is doing a similar thing, by taking Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman out of action we get to focus on a variety of characters, ranging from low level JLAers to quasi villains and detectives. I was expecting the series to be entertaining enough, but right from the first issue I was completely hooked and I quickly sped through the rest of the issues.

What makes this series different from most comics today is that it’s not based on a film structure, i.e. one big story that will resolve itself at the end of six issues or so. Instead, we’ve got something that’s structured like Claremont’s X-Men meets a Robert Altman film, as we move through a massive number of subplots which gradually progress over the weeks. It’s closer to a TV series, and for an ongoing series, that’s what I like. I love long form narrative and, as a single 52 issue story, you don’t get much more longform than this. I also really like the way we move in and out of the characters’ lives. The weekly format meant hat they could not have a character appear for four issues, without four months of real time elapsing. The weekly format is ideal for stories like this, and I think they did a great job of utilizing it to their advantage.

But what about the stories themselves? As an ensemble series, some of the plots are inevitably going to be better than others, but there’s few clunkers here, nearly everything is compelling. I’ll start with the storylines that aren’t working so well. Steel’s family drama is soap opera in a bad way, with a lot of pointless angst. The character is meant to be an everyman, and that kind of character works best when placed in weird surroundings, as Morrison did with Buddy in Animal Man and Cliff in Doom Patrol. There, their normality served as an anchor for the audience to cling to while all the craziness was going on. Steel’s story is just bad melodrama.

The other plotline that isn’t entirely working for me is the Renee Montoya stuff. It’s not bad, it’s just not as fun as the crazy pop of the other storylines. It feels like they just wanted to give Greg Rucka something to do, and as a result had him put his pet character through this lengthy mystery. The noir voiceover is a bit cliché, and the relationship between Renee and Kate isn’t totally working. But, there’s some good moments here too. I like the moment when we first see Batwoman. As Rucka talks about in the bonus material, this was a moment that needed to be a splash page. Because the book is generally so compact and narratively dense, the splash page has real impact. I hate books that overuse splash pages because it drains it of any effect. In the closing run of Transmetropolitan, Warren Ellis would inevitably pepper each issue with full page shots of the city in the rain, and by using them so much, without any denser pages in between, they lost any meaning. It’s all about contrast.

My favorite storyline so far is the heroes stranded on the planet. We get to see Morrison writing Animal Man again, which is great. It was largely the character’s rather generic background that allowed Morrison to turn him into a blank canvas for the epic metafictional journey that was his run on the book. But, before he could tear Buddy’s world apart, he had to build it up and we see that reflected here. Not only does Buddy appear, we also get to see his wife and kids again. Ellen has thankfully ditched the awful 80s white afro she was sporting back then, though it’s odd to see her change, twenty years pass, and Buddy’s daughter remain the same age. But, on the sliding continuity scale, I suppose the adventures of Morrison’s run only happened a few years ago. I really need to reread that run, it’s been nearly four years.

The fun of the stranded planet stuff, and the series as a whole, is the way the series embraces the sometimes ridiculous nature of superhero comics and uses those narrative rules as the underlying principles of its universe. This is a world where someone gets stranded in space and we just accept that, it’s a world where people routinely come back from the dead, a world where strange occurrences happen and people just accept them as part of what life is.

Issue five is the best of the series so far, full of crazy Morrison stuff, like the giant Hawkgirl and the great page where Alan Scott describes the aftereffect of the rift closing. That’s a really dynamic page layout, which sets the stage for the stranded planet stuff. This is pure pulp fun, working in the same vein as Seven Soldiers, embracing the absurdity and fun of classic superhero comics but bringing more emotional reality to things. I love how Adam Strange has no eyes, and Buddy’s total disinterest in Starfire’s shower. Starfire wants to have fun, Buddy wants to get back to his family and Adam Strange is just trying to do his hero thing. It’s a fun dynamic with a lot of story potential. I generally don’t like when superhero comics bring in space because it usually leads to bad stories. But this is so fun, I’m giving them the pass.

My other favorite storyline is the troubled adventures of Booster Gold in the distant past. The idea of a time traveling superhero using his knowledge of past events to be at the right place and right time to save people is pure Morrison, raising all kinds of questions about the nature of the future. Is this an Invisibles style situation, where Booster actually was in the past and he’s just completing the time loop? I don’t think so, primarily because he’s already seen disparities between his account of the past and what actually happens. However, it’s also possible that they write history this way so that he will do the same things he did, thus ensuring that the current timeline works itself out. At this point, it’s unclear, but something is definitely up with Skeets.

Regardless of the future issues, Booster’s got a lot of interesting stuff happening to him. He is completely lacking in traditional morality, hoping only to make a name, and money, for himself. The corporate sponsorship jokes wear a bit thin, the omnipresent advertising on his jumpsuit telling us all we need to know. It’s been interesting to watch him go from ultra confident smooth talking hero at the beginning to rejected loner by the end of the volume. The incident with Manthrax is great stuff, it’s so tough watching Booster get betrayed, his scheme exposed and everything come crashing down. Even though he’s a scoundrel, we like him. I’m assuming he’ll eventually discover the true meaning of heroism, but for now we’re left with a series of brutal rebukes, most notably the great scene with him and Ralph Dibny.

Ralph has the DCU’s punching bag for a few years now, and he spirals out of control over the course of these issues. As I mentioned before, having Identity Crisis as a touchstone is critical to the success of his story here, we understand the pain he’s feeling and his desperation as he tries to find some way to get Sue back. There’s some over the top stuff in this story, but it all builds well to the climax of issue thirteen, where Ralph tries to go through with the resurrection ritual and winds up with a creepy moving wicker Sue. In this world, it is possible that they could bring her back, and Ralph’s incredulity at what his friends did is legitimate pain. That was good stuff, but I still feel like Ralph goes a bit too far over the top sometimes.

Another interesting thread is Lex Luthor’s metagene program. This is another very Grant-y concept, particularly interesting in light of how Grant presents Lex in All Star Superman. There, Lex was jealous of what Superman could do, and felt like Superman inevitably made regular humans less in comparison. Here, we see Luthor trying to level the playing field and make everyone a superhero. Why exactly is this such a bad thing? Is it simply that Luthor’s behind it and something sinister must be going on, or is it more that our heroes are worried that if everyone has powers, they’re no longer special. I’m reminded of the great moment at the end of Grant’s JLA run where everyone is given superpowers for a day and they form into an army that battles some massive alien force. Oracle says “All this amazing stuff you're seeing and feeling is what Superman feels like all the time. It's why he wants to save us.” Can Lex give that to the people, or is he simply exploiting the absence of Superman and Batman? I’d lean towards the latter.

The most interesting thread cropping up near the end of the Volume is Black Adam’s attempt to remake his world using his superpowers. Black Adam seems to be another spin on the Captain Marvel archetype, and there’s clear echoes of Alan Moore’s Miracleman work here. There, we saw Miracleman remake all of society in his image, can Black Adam do the same, and create a viable new world in his kingdom? I really like the dynamic between him and Isis. As Adrianna, she was completely subject to Black Adam, but when she transforms into Isis, she gains control and is able to lean Adam down a new path. I’d imagine things will end in some form of tragedy, since heroes can’t really change the world. If Black Adam does that, it’d make Superman look ineffectual in comparison. But, I love what’s going on there, the relationship between them, and the way she opens him up to new ways of being. I’m really curious to see where that goes.

And, the cover of issue twelve is one of the best depictions of superheroes in love since the sequence where Miracleman and Miraclewoman fuck in the sky in Miracleman #16, or Superman and Lois on the moon in All Star Superman #3. They just seem to be so much more than we are, they are something we can aspire to be. I really hope things do go well for them, we shall see.



Ultimately, what makes the series work so well for me is primarily the characters. Much like with Seven Soldiers, they’ve taken a bunch of B and C list superheroes and turned them into real people in crazy, fantastic world. Booster Gold may have ridiculous stuff happen to him, but he feels emotionally real. They make poke fun at the conventions of the superhero universe, but it’s all love behind this work. The creators clearly love these characters and hope to make you love them as well.

I also love the way it spans so many genres and styles within the basic superhero mold. We’ve got space opera, noir, classical epic and family drama. Superhero comics get a bad rap, as juvenile power fantasies, while works set in the real world, or historical periods are hailed as adult and worthy of awards and serious criticism. I think basing a work off a historical event, setting a story in the past is the easiest way to kill any sort of energy or emotion in the work. You have to work hard to overcome the feeling that this is something that happened and as a result is not of particular concern to me. There can be good historical works, but those films aren’t usually treated with imagination or wonder. They stick to preconceived notions of what is socially acceptable in fiction.

But jump over to a book like this, it’s brimming with crazy ideas and concepts. There’s so much story going into this book, so many interesting jumping off points for you to create your own things. I think people who read comics are more likely to conceive of fiction without traditional boundaries. Superhero comics can jump from the most absurd action scene to deep real emotion, the two are not mutually exclusive. What comics have done for me is make me accept that weird stuff can happen right in reality. If you can accept these spandex wearing heroes as real people in a real world, it’s not that hard to accept increasingly crazy things. Most people are way too quick to write off anything out of the norm as “weird,” but reading comics make you accept pretty much anything. That’s not to say that this necessarily leads to good stories, but with a film like The Fountain, you can see a filmmaker who was influenced by comics and had no problem juxtaposing wildly disparate elements into one work.

So, this work’s wild shifts in tone, style and genre all serve to show what only comics can do. Structuring the book for the weekly format increases its addictiveness, such that I was always looking forward to the next issue and am now counting the days until the end of July, when the second Volume comes out. It’s not as distinct or precise as something like All Star Superman, but it’s just so much fun, it’s almost easier to read. Reading a Morrison/Quitely work, I’m savoring and analyzing every page, here I’m hurring to get to the next and see what happens.