Very few of the comics I normally read came out this week—the new issue of the consistently brilliant (but, I suspect, soon to be wholly forgotten at Marvel) Dr. Strange: The Oath, a new 52. In years past, a light week would mean that I’d skip a trip to the store, let the old pull list build up for a while, and then make my purchases. But 52 has gotten me hooked on the weekly schedule, since I don’t want to have any revelations pre-revelated by the various comics blogs which I am, apparently, powerless to stop myself from perusing.
What this means is that I walk in the store, get my, say, two comics, and feel a little let down at my thin stack. So I look around to see what else might tickle my fancy. This is often results in some unexpected treats: I would probably never otherwise have picked up Agents of Atlas or the aforementioned Dr. Strange series, two of my favorites over the past year. This week, I picked up a reprint of the first issue of the new Iron Fist series, which seems pretty good. But sometimes . . . sometimes life gives you puppies and ice cream, and sometimes life gives you puppy-flavored ice cream. To wit:
Silent War #1. Like Jog, I’ve been hooked on Frazer Irving’s quirky, moody art since it graced the pages of Klarion the Witch Boy, and I was curious to see how it would play in a big-cast superhero adventure. Although I’m wary of writer David Hine’s work since his ludicrous handling of Daredevil: Redemption’s southern setting, I’m usually a sucker for a big Inhumans/Fantastic Four adventure, and I was primed for another after having just read some Marvel Two-in-One’s featuring the Thing and his moon-walking pals.
I’m happy to say that Irving’s art still appeals to me, though one can’t help but wish that Hine had, I don’t know, maybe given him at least one fewer dismemberings to render. But hey, you can’t blame Hine, can you? Because people: if you’ve got a race of artificially evolved humans, each of whom has a strange power or grotesque deformity, living in the ruins of an ancient alien civilization on the moon, then of course you’re going to turn them into super-terrorists and wedge them into a ham-fisted political allegory! It’s what comics are for, after all!
Civil War: The Return. Okay, the thing is, even though Civil War is 20% more terrible than you’ve heard, I’ve sort of been enjoying the Paul Jenkins-penned Civil War: Frontline, or at least I was until the senses-shattering debut of Penance, the Sensational Character Find of Mark Millar’s Heroin Withdrawal Fever Dream. (I’m picking Millar out of a hat here; it could easily have been Quesada or Bendis, or hell, Jenkins himself who came up with the idea, though I get the idea that Jenkins had it given to him. Anyway, Paul O’Brien says everything that needs to be said about Penance here.) So, I thought maybe this one-shot would be a worthwhile diversion.
It was not.
It features a story in which a Captain Marvel from the past is sucked into the present because of Reed Richards’ tampering with the fabric of the Negative Zone (providing further evidence that Reed is just the tallest smurf in the village.) So far, so good! I actually kind of dig this idea. And then, given the wealth of storytelling opportunities presented by the stunning return of a time-lost legendary hero . . . they, um, make him the warden of the Negative Zone prison. Because of all the sense that makes.
The backup story is worse.
Winter Solider: Winter Kills one-shot. OK, I probably would have picked this up anyway when it came out a couple of weeks ago if it hadn’t been sold out, so I can’t blame it on the light week. I’ve been wrestling with my reactions to this character for a while now, torn as I am between the fundamental wrongheadedness of bringing him back and the generally compelling nature of the stories Brubaker is telling with him. This issue only furthers my ambivalence: on the one hand, the Winter Soldier’s encounters with the Young Avengers and Namor are very nicely handled and demonstrate Brubaker’s flair with characterization. It makes sense that the YAs will idolize him, and that Namor won’t be able to keep his gruff, haughty act from slipping a bit. But the story goes terribly awry when the WS gives a ridiculously condescending speech at Jack Monroe’s gravesite in which he suggests that Monroe was kind of an idiot who threw his life away chasing a ridiculous fantasy. Hey, maybe it’s not the WS’s fault, though—maybe in Russia, you visit someone’s grave to pay your contempts instead of your respects. Who can say, really? In Russia, respects pay you! And so on.
Don’t get the wrong idea: Mostly I love comics. Just not these.
The new issue of Johhny No-Powers kicks butt. He is assailed by robot ninjas and so calls the police and eats a frozen burrito while hiding in a closet.
Highly suggested reading.
I only pick up Johnny No-Powers when the Bone Wrangler guest-stars. I’m something of a BW completist, I guess you could say.
I gave up on the Bone Wrangler after that arc where he got married, had kids, and then found out it was all a fever dream induced by Zealtrass. Too Bobby Ewing for my tastes.
In other news, reading Fury’s post has made me declare war on modern comics. Must I be forced to only read only pre-1990 Marvel and pre-86 DC?! (Answer: yes).
Your description of your trip to the comic store reminds me of one of my most-favorite childhood memories. My second-cousin-once-removed uncle visited from Chicago. He took my sister and me to the corner store (now long ago replaced by a 7-11) and bought each of us 2 comic books. This was more than we could have ever hoped for. 4 books. He must have been wealthy beyond imagination
! Now, is 2 slim pickings? Surely you jest.
What comics were they??
Hm.m.m My guess would be Archie or Superman. I don’t really remember.
i recently read “Palestine” which taught me more about the subject than my college education. If i taught a class on Middle eastern politics i’d make it requiered reading. on a lighter note, I’ve been reading a giant stack of PHANTOM STRANGER comics and all is right with the world. god bless dc spooky comics.