Chase by J. H. Williams III, Dan Curtis Johnson, et al.

Chase

Collection published: 2011
Contents originally published: 1998-2002
Acquired: February 2022
Read: March 2022

Plotter/Penciller: J. H. Williams III

Writers: Dan Curtis Johnson, Doug Moench
Inks: Mick Gray, John Beatty & Shawn C. Martinbrough
Artists: Kelley Jones, Bob Hall, Charlie Adlard, Eric Canete, Rick Burchett, Yanick Paquette, Eduardo Barreto & Greg Scott

Colors: Gregory White & Lee Loughridge

Of the four collections I'm reading before starting JSA, this one's connection is the most tangential. Indeed, as far as I know it doesn't connect forward to JSA at all; rather, it connects back to Infinity, Inc. But more on that later; first let me discuss the book on its own term.

Chase is about Cameron Chase, a former P.I., now an agent of the DEO, a federal agency with jurisdiction over matters relating to superheroes. It's easy to see that this comes out of the same cultural moment that also brought us Alias and, later, Manhunter. All three series focused on women who work in law enforcement (broadly defined), largely without superpowers (sort of), with an emphasis on what it is to be ordinary and powerless in a world of power. (Gotham Central is not too far off this, either.) Chase has a live-in boyfriend, a sister who loves superheros, and a sort-of ex-partner; we eventually learn that her father had a brief superhero career that ended in his death. She herself doesn't trust those with powers.

Williams and Johnson are pretty fond of the lots-of-text-next-to-silent-image technique, and it works well given the subject matter and focus of the series.
from Chase #1 (script by Dan Curtis Johnson, art by J. H. Williams III & Mick Gray)

It's a good storytelling engine, and gives us a set of engaging tales: Chase goes to Ohio to investigate a teenage boy with pyrokinesis; Chase goes to South America to escort the Suicide Squad; Chase is assigned to watch over a Teen Titans publicity event that goes horribly wrong when the Clock King attacks; Chase goes to Gotham to see if the DEO can figure out who Batman really is. J. H. Williams III is always a solid artist with great layouts but also good storytelling and character, and that definitely comes through here; he co-plots with scripter Dan Curtis Johnson as well. Other than the Suicide Squad story (I didn't buy that such a new agent would be assigned such a difficult task solo), these are good stories, with an interesting angle of superheroes and an interesting main character. My favorite was surely the one where she tries to figure out who Batman is, which had some good twists, and a neat use of Alan Scott; I also really liked the pyrokinetic one, which really captured the "ground-level" Alias vibe. (The series is never quite that downbeat again, though, which is probably for the best.)

I felt like this subplot didn't go much of anywhere in the end, for example.
from Chase #6 (plot & script by Dan Curtis Johnson, plot & pencils by J. H. Williams III, inks by Mick Gray)

Its main downfall is that it just didn't last long. There were just nine regular issues of Chase; three of these were flashbacks, so there were only six in the ongoing narrative, plus the prequel story in Batman #550. So you can very obviously tell that Williams and Johnson are gearing up a long run with lots of threads... and it just doesn't happen. If this had lasted twenty-eight issues like Alias did, it would be a classic, I suspect; as it is, it has to be one of those things people call "a cult favorite."

Pretty nice dress on a government salary.
from Chase #8 (co-plot & script by Dan Curtis Johnson, co-plot & pencils by J. H. Williams III, inks by Mick Gray)

This collection also chucks in Chase #1,000,000 (about the DEO in the 853rd century) and a number of small Chase appearances from various DC "Secret Files" issues. These are okay, but of course mostly focused on doing things like foreshadowing about Gorilla Grodd. Weirdly Chase is barely in DCU Villains Secret Files #1, which is included... and has a footnote telling us to see DCU Heroes Secret Files #1 for more Chase... which is not included!

Like, this is just not explained or clarified!
from DCU Villains Secret Files & Origins #1 (plot by D. Curtis Johnson & J. H. Williams III, script by D. Curtis Johnson, art by Eric Canete & Shawn Martinbrough)

Anyway, though I've long been curious about Chase, I picked it up now for one reason: Mister/Director Bones. In Manhunter, Bones was a director in the DEO, a mid-level bureaucrat addicted to cigarettes... and with transparent skin and muscles and a cyanide touch. Then, I read Infinity, Inc., where he was a young supervillain who eventually made good. How did he go from the one to the other? The answer was, ostensibly, in Chase. Chase is indeed the series where Bones first appears as DEO director, his first appearance in a decade since Infinity, Inc. #53. But it's actually not really addressed in Chase because he's mostly a background figure here, just appearing in four issues, none of which delve into who he is. (If you know, you know—there's some Infinc nods in his office—but nothing in the text would tell you he's a reformed supervillain.) It doesn't really get spelled out until JSA Secret Files #2, three years after the series was cancelled! So is there a comic out there that actually delves into this transition? I will have to keep searching...

Why did he stop speaking in rhyme, anyway?
from Chase #6 (plot & script by Dan Curtis Johnson, plot & pencils by J. H. Williams III, inks by Mick Gray)

This post is twenty-sixth in a series about the Justice Society and Earth-Two. The next installment covers Stargirl by Geoff Johns. Previous installments are listed below:

1. All Star Comics: Only Legends Live Forever (1976-79)
2. The Huntress: Origins (1977-82)
3. All-Star Squadron (1981-87)
4. Infinity, Inc.: The Generations Saga, Volume One (1983-84)
5. Infinity, Inc.: The Generations Saga, Volume Two (1984-85)
6. Showcase Presents... Power Girl (1978)
7. America vs. the Justice Society (1985)
8. Jonni Thunder, a.k.a. Thunderbolt (1985)
9. Crisis on Multiple Earths, Volume 7 (1983-85)
10. Infinity, Inc. #11-53 (1985-88) [reading order]
11. Last Days of the Justice Society of America (1986-88)
12. All-Star Comics 80-Page Giant (1999)
13. Steel, the Indestructible Man (1978)
14. Superman vs. Wonder Woman: An Untold Epic of World War Two (1977)
• Wonder Woman: Earth-Two (1977-78)
15. Secret Origins of the Golden Age (1986-89)
16. The Young All-Stars (1987-89)
17. Gladiator (1930) ["Man-God!" (1976)]
    
18. The Crimson Avenger: The Dark Cross Conspiracy (1981-88)
19. The Immortal Doctor Fate (1940-82)
20. Justice Society of America: The Demise of Justice (1951-91)
21. Armageddon: Inferno (1992)
22. Justice Society of America vol. 2 (1992-93)
23. The Adventures of Alan Scott--Green Lantern (1992-93)
24. Damage (1994-96)
25. The Justice Society Returns! (1999-2001)
    

Revolutionary Reading: An Examination of the Legion of Super-Heroes Threeboot, Final Part: Dominator War

I had two reviews posted at Unreality SF last week: one of last year's Doctor Who audio trilogy with the seventh Doctor and Mel, and one of Series Four of Survivors. Posting this notice before this review makes me think there should be a Doctor Who comics by Mark Waid and Barry Kitson. They would be good at it. But then, I think they would be good at almost any comic.

Comic trade paperback, 124 pages
Published 2007 (contents: 2007) 
Acquired February 2016
Read May 2016

Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes: Dominator War

​

Writer: Mark Waid with Tony Bedard

Pencils: Barry Kitson with Kevin Sharpe
Inks: Mick Gray with Jimmy Palmiotti, Mark McKenna, Jack Purcell
Colors: Nathan Eyring
Letters: Travis Lanham, Jared K. Fletcher, Pat Brosseau, Phil Balsman

This is the final volume of Mark Waid and Barry Kitson's run on Legion of Super-Heroes, which means it will be my last post in this short-lived series of posts (though I do plan on eventually picking up what Tony Bedard and Jim Shooter did with this version of the Legion later on). In my review of Teenage Revolution, I set up the idea that a lot of fiction about revolutions deals with idea of "shrugging": how a character justifies the deaths that are needed to bring about utopia. Though Waid and Kitson's Legion of Super-Heroes has largely shied from depicting violence by the Legion against the state, this volume does have a pretty big example of justified violence, albeit in the context of warfare.

The last couple volumes have included among their many subplots the simmering threat of the Dominators; in this one, it finally comes to the fore. The Dominators are genetically engineered zealots. Each one believes in the genetic superiority of their species, and things are getting worse, as a Dominator scientist has introduced new genetic code that will propagate through the species, making every Dominator superpowered within a few generations. This means a conventional military defeat is insufficient; the Legion must commit genocide in order to win. If they just confine the Dominators to their homeworld, within a few generations, the Dominators will be unstoppable.

Cosmic Boy, still leader of the Legion, debates if he has the right to commit genocide:

from Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes #30 (script by Mark Waid, art by Barry Kitson and Mick Gray & Jimmy Palmiotti)

Thus we have Cos assuming a sort of Ozymandias-like posture: this is a burden he must take, only he is capable of doing so. He's the only person advanced enough to sanction mass murder to save universe.

So the Dominator homeworld is destroyed by Mon-El:

from Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes #30 (script by Mark Waid, art by Barry Kitson and Mick Gray & Jimmy Palmiotti)

I think this cops out on the series's confrontation with revolutionary violence in a few ways. The first is that the violence is all directed outwards; the Legion has never had to use lethal force against, for example, the Science Police during the course of the series. No one from the Legion's own society suffers as a result of their actions. The second is that the Dominators are basically genetically engineered to be evil. Obviously this can't happen in the real world, but it is often used to make genocide palatable in science fiction, like with the Daleks in Doctor Who. If every Dalek is an evil soldier, killing them is just what you must do during wartime, and the same applies here to the Dominators. There are no "innocent" Dominators, and thus Cosmic Boy is merely a general ordering the deaths of enemy soldiers. The third is that no genocide actually happens:

from Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes #30 (script by Mark Waid, art by Barry Kitson and Mick Gray & Jimmy Palmiotti)

Both Mon-El and the Dominators are not actually dead, but shunted into another dimension. Everyone thinks Cosmic Boy committed genocide, but he actually did not, though the continued existence of the Dominators needs to be kept a secret for various plot reasons. Now I'm not complaining that I don't get to read a comic book about teenagers committing genocide per se, but there are a lot of ethical complexities to revolution, and since this book framed itself as being about one, I wish it had delved into them a little bit more. If it doesn't, it doesn't take sufficient advantage of its unique premise, and becomes just another superhero team comic.

But I think that's what DC wanted. In my discussion of Adult Education, I talked about how Waid and Kitson modeled the reading practices they wanted their readers to follow. But it wasn't working, at least so the sales indicated. Soon after Waid and Kitson left the book, they were replaced by Jim Shooter, who had written the Legion back in the 1970s. The metatextual message here seems pretty clear to me: here is the Legion you knew and loved in the past. If DC Comics had been trying to cultivate a new, younger readership with the "threeboot," they had given up and were now chasing after the older die-hards who had read the Legion as children. I haven't read Shooter's run yet, but I understand that under him, the idea of the Legion as a youth movement was diminished, and it became a more traditional superhero team book.

In an interview a couple of years ago, Waid reflected on the difficulties DC had with his and Kitson's run:

I thought we had a home run on our hands. I really did. The reader response to it was really good. In-house, people loved it. At DC. I felt like we were hitting it out of the park. But we were right at that point where the marketplace was deciding whether or not fresh takes on old things or whether it wanted what it read in the 1980s. "Why can't comics be good the way they were when Mommy was still alive?" And we lost that bet. It felt to me that we did exactly the right thing, which was, "Look, I’m going to treat this beloved franchise as if it’s been a moribund, dead property for 15 years and we’re dusting it off and give you a whole new spin on it." There was an appetite for it at first, it seemed like, but then it just... people love their Legion comics the way they were in 1985. I can’t fault them, but I thought that would have been over the fence.

Either ironically or inevitably, the very nostalgic reading practices they had used the comic to argue against proved its undoing. Not even Jim Shooter could save the "threeboot" Legion, however; in 2009, just two years after Waid and Kitson left, DC cancelled the book, and it was replaced by the "deboot" Legion, which restored the status quo to what it had been in 1986, ignoring everything that had come in the intervening 23 years.

Nostalgia had defeated the revolution.

Revolutionary Reading: An Examination of the Legion of Super-Heroes Threeboot, Part IV: Adult Education

Comic trade paperback, 190 pages
Published 2007 (contents: 2005-07) 
Acquired February 2016
Read May 2016

Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes: Adult Education

​

Writer: Mark Waid with Tony Bedard and Stuart Moore

Pencils/Layouts: Barry Kitson
Additional Pencils: Adam DeKraker, Ken Lashley, Pat Olliffe, Dale Eaglesham
Inks: Mick Gray, Rob Stull, Rodney Ramos, Greg Parkin, Livesay, Art Thibert
Letters: Nick J. Napolitano, Jared K. Fletcher, Travis Lanham, Phil Balsman
Colors: Nathan Eyring, Richard & Tanya Horie

This collection includes two stories that directly pick up on and work with the idea we've seen throughout the series, that this version of the Legion of Super-Heroes was inspired by the DC Comics publications of the 20th and 21st centuries. Here, the series creators model what we might call the "revolutionary" reading practices they want the readers of their comic to employ.

One is a set of stories within a story, about various versions of the Legion of Super-Heroes that are incompatible with the current one's history. If, like me, you are a little perplexed by how DC Comics characters can be reading DC Comics (including some that they themselves appear in; in Teenage Revolution, we saw the cover of Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 4 #0), an anonymous stranger delivers a helpful piece of advice:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #15 (script by Stuart Moore, art by Patrick Olliffe & Livesay)

Well, that's me told. Recall, after all, that even though the Legion members memorize what issues DC characters first appeared in, what they really care about are the ideals the superheroes stand for.

This is reiterated in the book's final story, which takes place in the aftermath of Terror Firma's destruction of Legion headquarters (as seen in Death of a Dream). Rescue operations for the Legion followers caught in the blast are underway, and the story features a series of juxtapositions between damaged comic books in the rubble and the rescue operations being carried out in the present. For example, here's the cover of an issue of Batman with Commissioner Gordon and Batman looking at a body paralleled with a Science Police officer and a Legion follower covering up a body:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #11 (script by Mark Waid, art by Dale Eaglesham & Art Thibert)

There are six or seven of these, providing a visual reminder of how the comics of the past serve as inspiration for the heroes of the future.

But one of the Legion followers fixates on the comic books, embodying what we might call "nostalgic" reading practices. He goes around scooping up and saving the remnants of the comic books. A group of Legion followers notices him and attack him, thinking he's a speculator looking to pick up some rare back issues. He explains his motives as being purer, however:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #11 (script by Mark Waid, art by Dale Eaglesham & Art Thibert)

The other Legion followers set him straight, however. If what makes the comics important was that they were the Legion's inspiration, then what matters isn't the comics as physical objects, but that members of the Legion carry out the ideals they represent. You don't need the actual, physical comics for them to be important. Chastised, the comic-collecting Legionnaire drops his comic books to the ground and joins in the rescue operations, giving us one last parallelism:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #11 (script by Mark Waid, art by Dale Eaglesham & Art Thibert)

In this story, Mark Waid models the reading practices that underpinned the "threeboot" as conceived of by him and Barry Kitson. Inspired by the comics of the past, but beholden to their spirit, not their literal details. Continuity and nostalgia doesn't matter, idealism and revolution do. As much as Waid and Kitsons take on the Legion was about a revolution, it was itself revolutionary-- taking an old idea and reworking it for a contemporary context.

Unfortunately, the lessons of this story would go unheard by the readers of DC Comics. But that's something I'll cover when I get to the final volume of Waid and Kitson's run.

Revolutionary Reading: An Examination of the Legion of Super-Heroes Threeboot, Part III: Strange Visitor From Another Century

Comic trade paperback, 137 pages
Published 2006 (contents: 2005-06) 
Acquired February 2016
Read May 2016

Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes: Strange Visitor From Another Century

​

Writer: Mark Waid

Pencillers: Barry Kitson, Adam DeKraker, Ken Lashley, Art Thibert, Amanda Conner
Inkers: Mick Gray, Drew Geraci, Barry Kitson, Rodney Ramos
Colorist: Nathan Eyring
Letterers: Phil Balsman, Travis Lanham

One of the clearest explanations of the Mark Waid/Barry Kitson Legion of Super-Heroes is found in the back of this book, where the Legionnaires answer mail from readers of the comic in character. This approach to the old tradition of the lettercol is a delight, and it allows the characters to sort of step outside themselves and describe the premise of the book directly to the reader:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #6 (art by Barry Kitson)

The Legion stands for color, against sterility, as embodied in the virtues of the heroes of the past.

Their virtues are put to the test in this volume, though, which depicts one of the few direct conflicts between the Legion and the society they seek to change. When a group of Legionnaires takes down a terrorist disguised as a Science Police officer outside the home of a guy called Klar who embodies the society they're trying to reform. Klar's wife considers him not "fully clothed" when he's wearing shirt and pants but not hood and goggles, and Klar communicates with his neighbors via screen. He complains the Legionnaires lack "decorum" and "traipse out of doors like savages"!

Here we see something of the dark side of the Legion, as they bully him, stealing his goggles, and mocking his age. This riles up Klar, who comes back with his neighbors to argue with the Legion, who only mock him further:

from Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes #16 (art by Barry Kitson & Mick Gray)

There's some irony here, of course: the Legion has inspired Klar and other social conservatives to interact face-to-face for apparently the first time ever, and Klar's declaration that there is strength in numbers is exactly how the Legion took down Terror Firma in the previous volume. Their revolution has inspired another social movement, yet Klar doesn't recognize that he's abandoning his principles to ostensibly fight for them. Is he becoming a superhero himself? (That's what Matthew from Legion Abstract posits in this nice reading of the scene.)

This is probably the most direct conflict we see between the Legion and society, and on one level, it's pretty harmless-- the Legion shouts out some ageist insults and goes on its way. No real violence is required for them to change society.

That said, it's important to know there's been a major status quo change by this point. The events of the previous volume have shown the United Planets 1) that the Legion of Super-Heroes isn't going anywhere and 2) that the Legion has been successful whereas they have not. So the U.P. changes tactics, and gives the Legion official standing. What happens when they revolutionaries become the establishment? Well, this conflict shows that it actually makes them bullies to a certain extent. The Legionnaires flaunt their newfound authority to intimidate Klar (like I said, they steal his goggles).

It's one thing to punch up, but it's another to punch down, and the Legion is only starting to come to grips with what it means to go from underdogs to establishment, and how you much reorient your attitude appropriately. They're not exactly living up to the virtues of their role models in this sequence, even if they are making the world more colorful, and I'm glad that Kitson and Waid explore that here.

Revolutionary Reading: An Examination of the Legion of Super-Heroes Threeboot, Part II: Death of a Dream

Comic trade paperback, n.pag.
Published 2006 (contents: 2005-06) 
Acquired February 2016
Read May 2016

Legion of Super-Heroes: Death of a Dream

​

Writer: Mark Waid

Penciller: Barry Kitson
Interlude Written by Stuart Moore
Additional Pencils: Kevin Sharpe, Georges Jeanty, Ken Lashley
Inkers: Art Thibert, Mick Gray, Drew Geraci, Prentis Rollins, Paul Neary
Letterers: Nick J. Napolitano, Travis Lanham, Phil Balsman, Jared K. Fletcher

Created to change the United Planets, the Legion of Super-Heroes now finds itself in the position of having to save it. As a result, this volume of the Mark Waid/Barry Kitson Legion of Super-Heroes is much less about revolution the first one, drifting away somewhat from the series's unique selling point. Of course, Waid and Kitson are still masters of their craft, and there's lots to enjoy here, good twists and pay-offs and genuine character drama. Loved what happened to "Atom Girl," loved that Brainiac 5 used the slingshot of the original Robin, loved the role of Dream Girl in the proceedings. And much more.

There are points where revolution is discussed, though. Sun Boy, the only Legionnaire whose parents don't disapprove of his being a member, starts to realize that it's not really about the cause they're fighting for, but rather that he's "just an opportunity for them to relive their days as young radicals. Which sucks."

The book also explores the appropriate way to create social change, with both external and internal conflict. Brainiac 5 begins to chafe at Cosmic Boy's leadership of the Legion, believing that Cos is too accommodating of diverse perspectives. Cos would rather create a coalition of diverse interests united around common goals, while Brainiac favors a smaller group dedicated to his leadership of the Legion. Cos's beliefs are shown to have both pluses and minuses: the Legion is awe-inspiring in its size, but its open-door policy proves to be dangerous when it allows suicide bombers to enter into the Legion plaza without interference. I think Cos wins in the end, with his argument that "The Legion’s not twenty guys with corny names and costumes! It is everyone across the galaxy who has made any kind of sacrifice to take back the future! It is everyone who has ever worn this [the Legion symbol] knowing that it makes a difference!" The Legion followers end up fighting alongside the core group in battle, helping save the day. But Brainiac is right that diversity and acceptance comes with its own challenges, challenges that Cosmic Boy struggles to overcome in this book. (In fact, Cosmic Boy needs to be compelled into not leaving the Legion through subterfuge by Invisible Kid.)

Cos does make compromises. In the 31st century, all underagers are monitored on the communications network known as the Public Service; Cos has the opportunity to shut it down, but he ends up needing it communicate during the war against Terror Firma, when it turns out to be the only functioning communications system in the U.P. The revolution is forced to sacrifice some of its principles in order to survive, for better or for ill.

Finally, Terror Firma turns out to be a revolutionary movement itself, albeit a terrorist one (I guess the name is a clue). Made up of the descendants of U.P. citizens exiled to a now-forgotten prison planet, they want to change the corrupt society they were exiled from. But their methods and justifications, especially those of their leader, Praetor Lemnos, remind me of Ozymandias from Watchmen: Lemnos is the man who can shrug off the deaths of innocents to achieve utopia, due to his belief that rebuilding has to take place starting from a blank slate. The conflict between the Legion and Terror Firma thus reenacts an age-old philosophical dispute between revolutionaries: gradual reform vs. catastrophic restart. Perhaps even without thinking about it, the Legion throws their lot in with gradual reform. The implications of that choice will be explored in the series going forward.

Revolutionary Reading: An Examination of the Legion of Super-Heroes Threeboot, Part I: Teenage Revolution

Comic trade paperback, n.pag.
Published 2005 (contents: 2004-05) 
Acquired February 2016
Read May 2016

Legion of Super-Heroes: Teenage Revolution

​

Writer: Mark Waid

Penciller: Barry Kitson
Additional Pencils: Leonard Kirk, Dave Gibbons, Scott Iwahashi
Inkers: Art Thibert, Mick Gray, Barry Kitson, James Pascoe, Drew Geraci, Scott Iwahashi
Colorists: Chris Blythe, Paul Mounts, Dave McCaig
Letterers: Phil Balsman, Jared K. Fletcher, Pat Brosseau, Rob Leigh

This is the new Legion of Super-Heroes. In the past, the Legion of Super-Heroes was a group of teenage superheroes from the future. This version, the third since the group was introduced in Adventure Comics #247 back in 1954, is something more: they are revolutionaries. They don't want to beat up bad guys (or they don't only want to beat up bad guys), they want to beat up the system itself. There are seventeen Legionnaires on the "core" team-- but they are only the vanguard of 75,000-member youth movement from dozens of planets across the galaxy.

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #1 (art by Barry Kitson & Mick Gray)

The idea of superheroes as revolutionaries isn't a new one. I would argue that it goes back the genre's ur-text, Action Comics #1 in 1938. Superman in that first story doesn't fight Lex Luthor: he fights war profiteers. And in later stories he tackles other aspects of the United States' economy and social structure, like slumlords and people fixing college football games and unsafe driving conditions. (Okay, and a leaking dam.) This doesn't last, as in Action Comics #13 it starts off about a taxi driver protection racket, but ends up being about the Ultra-Humanite, introducing the first superhero to his first supervillain.

But the idea that the superhero is a revolutionary figure recurs throughout the genre's history, and various creators take it on in various ways: Dennis O'Neill and Neal Adams in Green Lantern/Green Arrow (1970-72), Warren Ellis and Bryan Hitch in The Authority (1999-2000), Joe Kelly in Action Comics #775: "What’s so funny about Truth, Justice, & The American Way?" (2001), Mark Millar in Superman: Red Son (2003), and Paul Pope in Batman: Year 100 and Other Tales (1998-2006). Alan Moore has taken on the idea repeatedly in his comics work, including in Miracleman (1982-89), Watchmen (1986-87), and V for Vendetta (1982-89). More on him later, though. I wouldn't suggest that revolution is the only project of the superhero genre (Amazing Fantasy #15, the debut of Spider-Man, captures a whole different part of it), but it is an important part of it.

If you know anything about the comics I listed, it's that they're excellent, but mostly dark, bloody, and dour. Teenage Revolution shows that a revolutionary superhero comic does not have to be like that. The Legion is bright and fun, rebelling against a future that's forgotten how to enjoy itself, where people communicate only via screens (even when in the same room), everyone goes outside completely bundled up, and children's locations are monitored at all times for their safety.

from Teen Titans/Legion Special #1 (art by Barry Kitson)

The teens in the Legion stand for a brighter, more exciting time, and they access this through-- in a sort of metatextual twist that's never really explained-- comic books published by DC Comics. They have spinner racks in Legion HQ:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #1 (art by Barry Kitson & Mick Gray)

...quiz each other on their DC Comics trivia:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #6 (art by Barry Kitson & Art Thibert)

...and even use them as a guide to what "dates" used to be like:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #3 (art by Barry Kitson & Art Thibert)

The superheroes of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries are a key part of the inspirations of the Legionnaires, as is reflected in their code names:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #1 (art by Barry Kitson & Mick Gray)

But the parameters of the Legion's conflict with the wider society of the United Planets is often defined vaguely. The Legion doesn't want kids (or "underagers," as they are called) to have their locations monitored, but other than that, what are they fighting for? And how are they fighting for it? The comic skirts around these issues, not always willing to show the violence that comes with revolution. Often throughout the series, an external threat ends up diverting the Legion's attention, and their violence is directed against that.

How revolutionaries articulate violence against their own society is a key question in stories of revolution, I think. In his book From Utopia to Apocalypse: Science Fiction and the Politics of Catastrophe (2010), Peter Y. Paik argues that most would-be revolutionaries, and fiction about revolutionaries, flinches from these issues. But Paik praises Alan Moore's works (Miracleman, Watchmen, and V for Vendetta are all discussed) as being among those that examine this difficulty thoroughly. Revolutionary change requires violence, he says, and though the moral cost is too high to bear, but "The grievous price of achieving utopia thus ceases to be terrible once Homo sapiens reaches the stage at which it feels free to shrug off as unduly burdensome the moral reservations entailed by the sacrifices that have been committed for the sake of advancing the progress of history."

How does one become able to "shrug"? How do you reach the point where you can say, "Killing all these people was okay because it advanced the progress of history"? Paik's analysis of Watchmen shows how the superhero Ozymandias is one such shrugger.

For the most part, Mark Waid and Barry Kitson's Legion of Super-Heroes avoids these issues. Things rarely get violent between them and the United Planets. (The first panel above refers to one such moment, where the Science Police tried to bulldoze Legion HQ. But the Legion's followers surrounded it and stopped it from happening with their bodies, and no one was hurt: there were no sacrifices.) I'll talk about one such moment when I get to the third volume.

But for now, the very first issue actually has one of the series' most protracted engagements with the idea of revolutionary violence. In this issue, the Legion is summoned to the planet Lallor, which is outside the United Planets, but allied to it. The Legion has been organizing underagers on Lallor into a political majority. It's a little unclear to me exactly what the backstory is. At one point, the leader of the Legion, Cosmic Boy, describes it as an "armed adult rebellion," implying the adults are rebelling against the underagers, but here, a dying Lallor underager tells Invisible Kid:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #1 (art by Barry Kitson & Mick Gray)

...implying that the adults were in control. Either way, there's some kind of armed conflict between the adults on Lallor and the Legion-affiliated underagers. Because the alliance between the United Planets and the government of Lallor, the U.P. government asks the Legion not to intervene against the Lallor government.

The Legionnaires, of course, ignore this edict. They justify their intervention-- they shrug-- in terms of preventing a larger outbreak of violence. Cosmic Boy argues that a number of planets are edging toward war:

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #1 (art by Barry Kitson & Mick Gray)

...and in a war, it's the young who will fight it on behalf of their elders. That it's the young who pay for decisions made by adults in which they have no say is a recurrent social criticism raised by the Legionnaires throughout the series. Here, the Legion engages in violence to prevent the larger violence of a full-scale war, knowing that the young, the disenfranchised will pay the most if there is one.

The United Planets' dithering is often portrayed as the biggest threat to peace. Because the United Planets is so big and so socially conservative, it is not quick to act. Because the Legion exists outside the government, they can act quickly and decisively to cut situations off before they escalate into larger outbreaks of violence. Thus, Cosmic Boy authorizes Legion involvement on Lallor.

from Legion of Super-Heroes vol. 5 #1 (art by Barry Kitson & Mick Gray)

But this is a rare moment in the series. The youth movement that is the Legion of Super-Heroes never has direct, violent confrontations with the social order of the United Planets, something that's hard to imagine would be the case if this comic had been written ten years later, after Occupy Wall Street and Black Lives Matter. Most of the time, the Legion doesn't have to shrug at all, and it feels like some of the potential of this version of the Legion has been left on the table as a result.

That's not to say there isn't a lot to like about the "threeboot" Legion, but this essay is focused on one particular aspect, not leaving me with much room to mention how much I liked Barry Kitson's clean art, the pervasive feeling of optimism, the clever sci-fi ideas, and especially the character of Dream Girl, who is definitely my favorite in this incarnation. Like the best reboots, Waid and Kitson's take is at least as interesting as what it's replacing, and the differences are more than interesting enough to justify the undertaking.

Faster than a DC Bullet: Project Crisis!, Part LI: Final Crisis Aftermath: Escape

Comic trade paperback, n.pag.
Published 2010 (contents: 2009)
Borrowed from the library
Read August 2015

Final Crisis Aftermath: Escape

Writer: Ivan Brandon

Pencillers: Marco Rudy, Cliff Richards, Neil Edwards
Inkers: Mick Gray, Jack Purcell, JP Mayer, Prentis Rollins
Colorists: The Hories
Letterer: Sal Cipriano

I don't know why all the Final Crisis Aftermath books have verbs for subtitles, but I kind of like it. It would have been even better if they'd all used exclamation marks like Run!, though. Isn't Escape! a much better title than Escape?

In my review of Ink, I said it was my favorite FCA tale, but this one has supplanted it. This is the first of them that doesn't feel like the writer is trying to make something out of Grant Morrison's leftovers, that feels like its writer actually has his own story to tell. Ivan Brandon and Marco Rudy pick up some time after the end of Final Crisis, with its hints about Brother Eye and a Global Peace Agency. In Escape, Tom Tresser-- apparently a master of disguise called "Nemesis," but a new character to me-- wakes up in the Electric City, a sort of prison, a weird surreal prison whose wardens insist it's not a prison, and where his fellow inmates who know him refuse to talk to him. Many of the other prisoners seem to be characters who also worked for the government: Amanda Waller, Rick Flag, Blackhawk (I'm not sure which one-- Janos Prohaska?), Atomic Knight, Cameron Chase, the Spy Smasher.

The writing and the art are both deliberately disorienting, with Brandon providing little in the way of answers and Rudy embedding panels within panels to put the reader off from following the story. The characters don't know who to trust, they don't know who put them where they are or why, and imprisonment might not even be the purpose of their jailers. I was often confused by this story, but always intrigued, as the answers always felt just outside of my grasp. It reminded me-- quite deliberately, I suspect-- of The Prisoner, and that's almost always a good thing. The wheel with the options of DEATH, FREE, PEACE, VIOLENCE, ESCAPE, PANIC, RESET was a great surreal touch, and the seeming time travel elements were perfect icing on the cake of confusion.

I expected the end to be one of those endings that explains nothing, but to my surprise just enough explanations were provided to make me feel like there was a logic to this, and to intrigue me to read on. There was a purpose to everything that happened, one that stems from the events of Final Crisis and has repercussions for the future. I do want to know how the Buddy Blank and Brother Eye we see here relate to the ones from Countdown to Final Crisis and Final Crisis itself, though; that wasn't terribly clear.

Overall, I really enjoyed this. It was bold, it was different, and despite its obvious debts to both The Prisoner and Jack Kirby, I didn't feel like I'd ever encountered anything quite like it. I look forward to seeing what happens to Tom next, and unlike with most of these Final Crisis Aftermath tales, I actually can; Ivan Brandon apparently wrote a followup miniseries called Nemesis: The Impostors. Sadly, it's uncollected, so I'll have to find the floppies somewhere.

Next Week: That's it for Final Crisis and its tie-ins, so I jump backwards slightly to continue my superhero prose fiction reading project with the novelization of Countdown!

Faster than a DC Bullet: Project Crisis!, Part XLIX: Final Crisis Aftermath: Dance

Comic trade paperback, n.pag.
Published 2010 (contents: 2009)
Borrowed from the library
Read August 2015

Final Crisis Aftermath: Dance

Writer: Joe Casey

Pencillers: ChrisCross, André Coelho, Eduardo Pansica
Inkers: Rob Stull, Mick Gray, Wayne Faucher, ChrisCross, André Coelho, Sandro Ribeiro, Marc Deering
Colorists: Snakebite, Pete Pantazis
Letterer: Sal Cipriano

The Super Young Team was one of the more interesting aspects of Final Crisis, a group of Japanese super-teens designed as a contemporary version of Jack Kirby's Forever People, and as a result, Dance was the Final Crisis Aftermath tale that I was looking forward to the most.

Though this came out in 2009, Dance feels like it could sit alongside what Phil Sandifer calls the "New Pop" style of contemporary comics, like Batgirl and Young Avengers. Except that... it's just not as good. There could be some interesting ideas about the boldness of youth, what it means to grow up, how to be a superhero in the era of Twitter, but none of that's actually here. Rather, we watch the Super Young Team be manipulated by hackneyed PR managers for five issues when they suddenly get their crap together and save the day. It's not quite as cliche as it sounds-- I did like that Most Excellent Superbat doesn't decide to give up Twitter, but instead invents a replacement for it that joins people brain-to-brain, and I also liked the reveal of the grave threat facing Japan-- but it didn't really have anything to say.

There are glimpses of big ideas in it, but they don't come to fruition. Both Most Excellent Superbat and Shiny Happy Aquazon ultimately turn down heroes from the previous generation to forge their own paths, but there's no sense of why it's important, of what the younger generation gains by rejecting the older generation's identity and forging its own. Or, what about the fact that the supposed deficiencies of this generation come from the previous one: we're just living in the PR-fueled world our parents created. Nothing like this is really grappled with. The book just becomes generic superheroics without anything to say that you haven't seen before, even if it does occasionally want to try.

I feel like there's potential in these characters, so it's a shame this was it for them, as far as I know; the "New 52" reboot restored the original Forever People in an insta-cancelled series by Dan DiDio and Keith Giffen. All five of them seemed like they could be really interesting given the chance, and I also really liked the sense of a history of Japanese superheroics created by Morrison and Casey, with the JLA-esque Big Science Action, who shout delightful things like "Big Science Emergency"! The appearances of ur-hero Ultimon-Alpha, with his stereotypical doomsaying, was one of my favorite parts of the books. Hopefully someone tries something with the Super Young Team again one day; I really like it when DC takes that very American idea of the superhero and filters it through the sensibilities of other cultures.

Next Week: What will become of the Tattooed Man now that he's turned from villain to hero? Find out in Ink!

Faster than a DC Bullet: Project Crisis!, Part XXI: Seven Soldiers of Victory, Volume Two

Comic hardcover, n.pag.
Published 2011 (contents: 2005-06)
Borrowed from the library
Read April 2014

Seven Soldiers of Victory, Volume Two

Writer: Grant Morrison

Art: Frazer Irving, Pasqual Ferry, Ryan Sook & Mick Gray, Yanick Paquette & Serge Lapointe, Doug Mahnke, Billy Dallas Patton & Michael Bair, Freddie Williams II, J. H. Williams III
Colorists: Frazer Irving, J. H. Williams III, Dave McCaig, Nathan Eyring, Alex Sinclair, John Kalisz, Dave Stewart
Letterers: Pat Brosseau, Jared K. Fletcher, Phil Balsman, Nick J. Napolitano, Travis Lanham, Todd Klein

Seven Soldiers of Victory draws to a conclusion with the stories of three more of the soldiers: Mister Miracle, despite being even more bound up in Kirby's DC mythos than the Guardian, is less successful; I don't think Morrison was going for Kirby pastiche as much here, but then it's difficult for me to say what this story does accomplish.

Frankenstein is an odd one: a series of done-in-one adventures, basically, of a man too monstrous to live in society, but still trying to do good. Like the Hulk, I guess? It's Doug Mahnke's creepy, distorted art that really make these work, it makes the tone come across perfectly. His journey to the Sheeda homeworld is amazing; probably the best single issue in this volume.

The tales of the Bulletteer were probably my favorite, an examination of sex, power, and superheroics, but on the whole, I found the characters in this volume less involving than those in the first.

The whole thing is tied up in "The Miser's Coat". I don't pretend to understand it very much, but it has all the Soldiers lining up and accidentally-on-purpose defeating the Sheeda. No matter what happens, it looks gorgeous, moving through a range of artistic styles as it is revealed the story of the Sheeda goes all the way back to the first superhero-- the first man to wield fire. The narratives that had crossed and intersected before all jumble up here, and it is amazing, as comics meet newspaper reportage meet children's picture book meet crossword puzzle.

I like a lot of these characters and concepts, I hope I will see more of them going forward.

Faster than a DC Bullet, Issue #16: Lex Luthor: Man of Steel

Comic trade paperback, n.pag.
Published 2005 (contents: 2005)
Borrowed from a friend
Read December 2009

Lex Luthor: Man of Steel

Writer: Brian Azzarello

Artist: Lee Bermejo
Additional Inks: Mick Gray, Karl Story, Jason Martin
Colorist: Dave Stewart
Letterers: Phil Balsman, Pat Brosseau, Rob Leigh, Nick J. Napolitano

DC Universe Timeline: Seven Years Ago
Real World Timeline: 2005

(When I assembled this timeline, I placed this story after For Tomorrow, Volume Two on the basis of an on-line timeline I saw somewhere that gave this placement. But after reading the story, it's plainly not true: Luthor is still CEO of Lexcorp and doing quite well, so it must come before his term as president. In addition, Superman and Batman don't have a friendly relationship-- Lex gives Batman a piece of kryptonite, and Superman fights him to get it back-- so it must occur early in their careers... but not too early, as Mona, who's probably in her 20s, says Superman's been in Metropolis since she "was a little girl". One timeline cited the apperance of Mr. Orr in both this and For Tomorrow as evidence they go close together, but that actually works in favor of an early placement for Lex Luthor: in For Tomorrow, he's working for shadow governments and fighting Wonder Woman, whereas in this one he's intimidating union bosses. Obviously he's got some mercenary credentials to acquire yet. Considering all that, I've placed the story a year before Crisis on Infinite Earths. Which disappointingly means it's not really the last stop on my chronological journey, but oh well.)

It's a well-established fact that Lex Luthor is my favorite comic book villain of all time. Superman's my favorite hero, and Luthor is the perfect opposite for him:a self-made man, through and through. Both see themselves as wanting the best for everyone around them, but the difference is that for Luthor, what's best for everyone else is always also best for him. I also love his casual arrogance, his manipulation of those around him... which is deserved, because he actually is the smartest man in the room. My preferred Luthor is the accomplished, brilliant businessman-- that's the one I grew up on in the Superman cartoon-- but I also admit a fondness for the Gene Hackman/Kevin Spacey version, who I think still has the same fundamental core. The highest compliment I can give to a villain is to compare them to Lex Luthor; I like to try to do this in graduate seminars, and have thus far succeeded with the man in the yellow suit in Tuck Everlasting and Madame Beck in Villette. But the threat to Luthor is simple and strong: Superman.

The threat that Superman poses to Luthor is something that Lex Luthor: Man of Steel aims to explore. It's a Lex Luthor comic book, told almost entirely from his perspective. What are his adventures? What does he think? Why is he such an utter bastard?

As Azzarello paints it-- and this I agree with, it's how I see Luthor as well-- Lex Luthor thinks that Superman is a threat to humanity. Not because Superman is openly antagonistic or anything like that, but because the idea of Superman threatens humanity. As an outsider, Superman cuts off humanity's potential. Why should humanity aspire to do greater, if Superman is out there, doing it for them? Lex rejects the concepts of fate and destiny: "All of us-- everyone-- deserves a chance at greatness. All that takes is the belief that it exists. But his existence threatens not just that belief... but our existence. I believe there's something inherently dangerous when something real becomes something mythic. I believe when that happens, we lose the part of ourselves that yearns to be great. Because when faced with a myth? We can't win." Superman threatens that achievement time and again... and the possibility of humanity to achieve is something Luthor spends all his time in Man of Steel trying to prove.

The event that's going on in the background of this book is Lexcorp's construction of the Science Spire, a gigantic research facility in the heart of Metropolis. The book doesn't have one strong overarching storyline, but a couple smaller ones, interspersed with moments of Lex Luthor being Lex Luthor. It's one of these moments that's my favorite: Luthor learns that his office janitor's son is interested in science, but that he cuts class frequently, so he's not making the grades he should be. Luthor gives the janitor an invitation for the opening of the Science Spire, one he can only pass on if the son gets an A. But after the janitor leaves, Luthor instructs his personal assistant, Mona, to ensure that the son gets one of twelve spots in the incoming class at Von Rauch Academy, a very exclusive private school. Mona objects that the school's picked its incoming class already; Luthor tells her to make it work. That's Lex Luthor. He's a man who believes every human being has great potential within... and will do totally unethical things to realize that potential.

My other favorite small moment is when Luthor brutally dismisses Mona and her advances:

MONA: Lex, can I talk freely?
LUTHOR: I sign your checks, Mona.
MONA: Do you want to know what I think about this?
LUTHOR: No. Here's what you think: "My boss is getting dangerously close to making a mistake that could ruin him. He's been touched by an ideal, when all I want is for him to touch me. Despite the way I dress, he won't notice me. He only has eyes for his ideal. How can I change that? How can I make myself... ideal?"
MONA: You're a bastard.
LUTHOR: No, Mona... I'm an idealist.

It's one of these small moments that's also my least favorite. The Science Spire is going overbudget, but Lexcorp can't renegotiate its contracts with its construction workers because they have a strong union, so Luthor has Mr. Orr intimidate the union boss and threaten to throw him over the side of the building. Though this is the sort of problem-solving the ever-crude Mr. Orr might partake in, it seems a little bit beneath Luthor, using a bludgeon when a scalpel will suffice. Threatening murder just to get a building finished on time and on budget seems to be overdoing it-- especially when he's thinking about incorporating the Science Spire as a nonprofit and doesn't care about the money he makes! So why all this then?

The best extended plotline is Luthor's trip to Gotham, to meet with one of his business partners... a certain Bruce Wayne. It's a well-done chapter, cutting between Luthor's conversation with Wayne and a Batman/Superman fight precipitated by the visit: Luthor gives Wayne a piece of kryptonite, and Superman's not too happy about that. Does Luthor know that Wayne is Batman? It's never directly said... but it seems strongly implied. He knows that Wayne has something going on, though, and is willing to take a chance to get what he wants. It's a fantastic conversation. To an utterly innocent outside observer, Luthor would appear to be a forward-thinking idealist, Wayne a lackadaisical playboy. Yet, underneath, neither is the man they pretend to be.

The dedication of the Science Spire corresponds with Luthor's revelation of his own, homegrown hero: Hope. Hope is a woman created in one of Lexcorp's labs to be the ultimate superhero. You see, she's human, and the pinnacle of human achievement. Humans created her with human technology. There's a brief time where she supplants Superman in the hearts and minds of Metropolis. And as for Luthor, how does he react? Hope is the ultimate expression of his every desire. How could he react but to fall in love with her? Dang, Lex Luthor, but you're creepy. But it's believable, because Luthor's really in love with one person beneath it all: himself. He is the best humankind has to offer, and he created Hope. The sheer arrogance of that name-- who other than Lex Luthor could believe that he'd personally created hope itself?

But Hope is part of a more elaborate plot, and this is where the book loses me again. She's just not an artificial superhero: she does artificial good. The initial disaster she helps fight is manufactured by Luthor via Mr. Orr (who gets the Toyman to do it for him, in a rare good use of the character). And the book climaxes with Hope apprehending the Toyman for his crime... and dropping him, her body operating at Luthor's will. Superman saves the Toyman, of course, and a battle between the two "heroes" ensues. And during that fight, Luthor causes her to detonate, collapsing the Science Spire himself. I love the idea of a man willing to destroy is own greatest achievements for the greater good. But the justification is weak: "What the world watched you do tonight... if it only changes one mind about what you are..." That's it? Turning one mind against Superman is worth that? I don't buy it; Luthor is too calculating for that. And the fight just doesn't work either; why would saving the Toyman escalate into something like that? It's a disappointing ending, even if it does yield another fantastic Lex Luthor line: "I know I can't beat you... alone. But then, I'm not alone. There are six and a half billion of me... and only one of you."

The art's usually great. Lee Bermejo's work is rough and harsh, perfect for the world of Lex Luthor. Even if he does look a little too craggy from time to time. His Luthor is perfectly expressive, able to go from warm and friendly to cold and calculating and still be the same person. He does a good job at all the other characters, too. There is one very weird sequence with a redhead being reflected in a glass wall that I found confusing, but I eventually puzzled my way through what was happening there. The occasionally switching style is nice, too: the issue that intercuts Lex talking to Bruce with Batman fighting Superman uses a different style for each strand-- the Batman/Superman one looks more painted-- which is very effective. The colors by Dave Stewart really help, too: a lot of dark grays and greens, muddy colors for Lex's world. Superman is brighter than everything else... but only relatively. It's still a dim world.

Superman is an ominous presence in Lex Luthor: Man of Steel, and that works immensely well. He hovers outside Luthor's office, fights Batman, reports on the Science Spire, and battles Hope for the Toyman. His glowing red eyes are a recurring motif. But he only has one line of dialogue: "You're wrong... I can see your soul." It's a line that chills Luthor to the bone, because he knows it's true. Lex Luthor might be the better human being... but Superman is the better person and always will be. And they both know it, even if Luthor will never admit. Luthor will go on fighting that good fight, trying to serve humanity the best he can: the most unethical way possible. And that is why I love him.

Amazingly enough, I've finished my chronological journey through my friend's comics. But Faster than a DC Bullet's not over yet: these have just been the in-continuity ones. We've got three more out-of-continuity stories to go before this thing wraps itself up.

Note that this originally appeared on my old LiveJournal and included pictures back then. Sadly, the pictures are lost in the mists of the Internet.