The Sand Saref/Elektra Connection

In the documentary Comic Book Superheroes Unmasked, Frank Miller says he stole the introduction of Elektra in his acclaimed Daredevil run, structurally, from Will Eisner's The Spirit, specifically the introduction of Sand Saref. Let's put some panels together and check out how they compare.

The Sand Saref/Elektra Connection

by Duy 

First, both stories start out in the rain.

Next, the Spirit discovers a clue, in writing, that points to Sand Saref, while Daredevil's mission is interrupted by Elektra, whose voice he immediately recognizes.

 

Then we go into flashbacks. Sand Saref knew the Spirit, Denny Colt, when they were kids. Denny's uncle killed Sand's dad, who was a police. Meanwhile, Matt Murdock and Elektra Natchios were lovers in college, until Elektra's dad was killed and she left the country.

Then, both Denny and Matt say they have to bring these girls from their past to justice.

The climaxes of both stories take place by the waterfront, where both women are caught in a bind (Elektra a bit more so).

Our heroes come to the rescue.

The girls get their hits in.

The girls recognize the masked men.

And then they walk away.

Well, that's pretty clear-cut, but considering that this was the height of Miller's initial run on Daredevil, the storyline that really put him on the map, I wonder what would have happened if things had turned out just a bit differently. See, Eisner didn't create Sand Saref for The Spirit. He created her for a new strip about a private detective named John Law. The first strip was all about Sand Saref, but for several reasons, John Law didn't push through and Eisner just adapted the John Law stuff into The Spirit.

There's a What If question for you. What if things had gone as planned and Sand Saref, which has been reprinted more than any other Spirit story I've seen, in my experience, was not there to influence a young Frank Miller. Would he have taken off as quickly as he did?

(Okay, I'm sure the answer is yes. Sue me, I'm trying to end the column here.)

You can read Elektra and Sand Saref here.

A Sense of Wonder: Thor: The Mighty Avenger

On Thor: The Mighty Avenger
A Sense of Wonder

by Duy

A while back, my brother said to me that he played The Avengers on home video for the kids — that's my 15-year-old nephew, my 9-year-old niece, and two of the other kids who are always at the house — and they were just watching intently the whole time. So I asked that second one, my niece Fiona, which one her favorite Avenger was. Her answer was Thor, meaning she's a girl after her uncle's heart. So I asked her if she wanted me to read her some Thor comics, and she said yes, the same way I used to (and still do) read her some Golden Age Shazam/Captain Marvel comics, but I figured, what would I read her? Jason Aaron and Esad Ribic's run isn't "cute" enough for her (she likes to call things "cute"), Walt Simonson's run is (I think) a little too dense in terms of words, and I considered the Stan Lee/Jack Kirby original run until I opened my Masterworks and remembered how much 60s-era sexism and racism there was.

Fortunately, there was one universal answer: Thor: The Mighty Avenger by Roger Langridge and Chris Samnee, a stand-alone book with its own self-contained continuity. I've been meaning to get it for a while, since I love Samnee (Daredevil is one of only two titles I'm still getting on a monthly basis), and Fiona wanting some Thor to read just made me pull the trigger.

I bought it first thing on a Wednesday morning, on a holiday. I went to my family's house, and she and I read it, with me reading the words and her doing the sound effects. We finished it in a day.

There's a lot to like in Thor: The Mighty Avenger, which sets the Thunder God in contemporary times, banished to Earth by Odin for reasons unknown and taken in and given a home by Jane Foster. For one thing, the art is pretty incredible. Samnee's got a style where you can tell what each character is feeling even if all the panel contains is a hollow outline of a figure with two dots for eyes and a quick line for the mouth (which Fiona kept pointing out to me every chance she got — she's related to me, after all), and man, it really helps. Some scenes are completely silent. The entire book starts out with these first two pages.

Look at how much is established in those pages. From Jane's loneliness to her sense of awe and wonder at a simple rainbow, Samnee's able to convey it with simple facial expressions and gestures. These are some inspired artistic choices — the everyday act of putting your pinky on your lip when you're in awe is still something many comics artists forgo. Samnee's mastery of body language is evident in Mighty Avenger.

In fact, it's possible that even after so many issues of Daredevil, where Samnee pulls out trick after trick and fancy layout after fancy layout, it's in Mighty Avenger that I really appreciated him and his hold on fundamentals the most. Keeping layouts and compositions simple really highlighted his gestures and facial expressions. At no point, ever, does anyone say anything to the effect of "Thor loves to fight," but Samnee gets it across each time with a simple smile or smirk.

It's not just Samnee, either. Roger Langridge does a good job with this kind of texture. It's no accident that Thor ends up watching The Wizard of Oz (which Fiona loved so much, because she loves that movie), right at the part where Dorothy's about to sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."

Mmmm. Sammich.

There's a genuine romance to Mighty Avenger and it's centered, of course, on Thor and Jane Foster. Thor's desperation to get back to Asgard and his growing acceptance for Earth is a focal point, and it doesn't happen without Jane.

And if you couldn't figure it out from that dialogue, Roger Langridge is pretty good with words. And he's also pretty good at moments, too. In case you've been thinking "This is just for kids!", well, first I'd say there'd be nothing wrong if that were true, but also, there's enough in there to provide a fun, layered experience for all ages.

And of course, there's just some great fistpumping, adrenaline-rushing action throughout the book. With guest stars like Captain Britain and Giant-Man (whom Fiona eagerly calls "Brian" and "Henry") and Wasp and Iron Man and Captain America, there's no shortage of punching, and boy, does Thor love to punch things.

Thor: The Mighty Avenger isn't perfect. For one thing, it was cancelled four issues early and some of the main questions were never answered, such as why Odin banished Thor from Asgard in the first place, or who the hell Krask is (he's this guy, so don't feel too bad about not getting that big reveal), and I actually think it starts off a bit slow. But the characters make it. The moments make it. It's a comic that looks simple on the surface but has true, genuine beauty, and it's a comic about that very thing, about how things that seem simple on the surface, that you take for granted each day, can still fill you with wonder and awe, if you only stop to look.

A half hour after reading Thor: The Mighty Avenger, Fiona came up to me with her iPad and, with a smile on her face, said, "Look. I made a Rainbow Bridge in Minecraft." So, thank you, Avengers the movie, for giving me the impetus to buy Thor: The Mighty Avenger. And thank you, Roger Langridge, Chris Samnee, and company, for bringing me and my niece closer together, with the Marvel character that I'd be happiest doing it with.

You can get Thor: The Mighty Avenger here:

Firelord: Comics' Biggest Loser

I've been reading comics for a long time, and one of the first comics I ever collected was Silver Surfer. And one of the first things you learn reading Silver Surfer is this:

Firelord Is Comics' Biggest Loser

by Duy

Firelord is Pyreus Kril, a native of the planet Xandar. A graduate of the Nova Corps Academy, he's supposed to be a competent fighter. Pair that up with him being a herald of Galactus, just like the Silver Surfer, which imbues him with the Power Cosmic, and he should really be unstoppable. I mean, the Power Cosmic is right up there with Mjolnir and Silver Age Superman as "capable of whatever the plot needs," yeah? It grants the user superstrength, superspeed, the ability to function in space, the ability to transmute stuff, and all other sorts of powers that makes it sound like it was put together by a five-year-old.

And yet, he sucks. I wish I could find a better choice of words, but there really isn't any. He sucks. Firelord is an incompetent fighter. Here's him getting his ass handed to him by a souped-up Nova in New Warriors #42. And sure, Nova at this point is probably unstoppable, but no one else in this entire story gets their ass handed to them.

Here's Firelord getting called in to be part of the cavalry in Infinity Gauntlet #5.

They all get wiped out, though, so when Dr. Strange needs to bring them back, he brings back only three out of those five. Okay, I can see Strange not bringing Doom back, since Doom is evil and would probably be out for himself, but Firelord being omitted? The only reason for leaving him out would be because he'd ruin everything, right? Having him around is like negative points.

They got Starfox to replace Firelord. Starfox, whose power is being
really persuasive. And also, being a sleazebag. That's gotta hurt.

Recently, I was reading the Thor vs. Thanos trade paperback, and I was describing it to my nephew, and I said that Thanos has, in his corner, Mangog, with the power and rage of a billion billion souls. Thor, meanwhile, had Firelord, and my nephew laughed, because what, they needed to make things harder for Thor by teaming him up with Firelord?

Firelord's actually pretty useful in this one, though, mostly by staying out of the way.

"I can't possibly be of any direct help! At all!"

Here's Firelord from Silver Surfer #71, getting overwhelmed by a bunch of tiny aliens, from which the Surfer has to save him.

Several issues later, he's under mind control during the Infinity Crusade, and he has to fight the Surfer, who just kind of slaps him around.

Of course, the best example of how terrible Firelord is, is in Amazing Spider-Man #270, where Spider-Man just beats the crap out of him.

This isn't even Firelord's fault. A bunch of humans got on his case because he was eating pizza, which really was more of a reason for him to win the fight or at least not get his ass kicked, but no, he lost, pretty badly.

Lots of overly serious comics fans spend an inordinate amount of time talking about who would beat whom in a fight and assign rules to their arguments like "Bloodlust on" or assign acronyms like "CIS" for "character-induced stupidity" to disregard any character flaws, thus distilling every character to a mere collection of powers and arbitrary stats. Those fans like to take this story down and cite it as an example of bad writing, the argument being that Spider-Man shouldn't have been able to lay a hand on Firelord at all and that it was just an overreaching example of Spider-Man getting built up.

And you know what? Maybe they're right. I can kind of see where they're coming from... if Firelord were anything other than an incompetent, incapable, altogether terrible wielder of the Power Cosmic. No amount of power is going to make up for being an idiot.

Let's fast forward 1000 years into the future, where Firelord is the Protector of the Universe and Nikki from the future Guardians of the Galaxy has a crush on him.

 Wait, is he saying we have all been guilty of thinking we love someone because of an ideal we've built in our heads, or is he saying that we've all been guilty of loving Firelord because he's the best-looking man we ever saw?

Damn, Firelord, you're not just a loser. You're also a jackass!

Peanuts: Pacing, Progress, and Peppermint Patty

I recently came across a copy of Peanuts: A Golden Celebration, and I burned through it within a couple of days, making a few observations and feeling the need to share them with you. So here I am now, talking about...

Peanuts: Pacing, Progress, and Peppermint Patty

by Duy

I've got a bit of a weird relationship with the life's work of Charles Schulz, as I certainly was exposed to Peanuts from an early age, but I could never really get into it or see what the big deal was. It didn't seem particularly funny, and let's admit it, it was kind of depressing. Schulz made it so that his characters, Charlie Brown in particular, were always struggling with life and could barely ever find success in whatever it was they set out to do.

Over the years, the appeal of Peanuts has been explained to me ad nauseum, by friends, fans, critics, and curators. I even went to the Peanuts Art Exhibit when it came to Allentown, Pennsylvania, in 2003. Schulz's work has been likened, several times, to a haiku, in terms of its rhythm and the fact that it tends to have a lingering final panel instead of an actual punchline. Peanuts stays in the air after you read it, leaving you to figure out what it means, or wondering what comes next. A lot of the time, it feels as if it ends prematurely. Like I said, it lingers. In a way, that's what makes Peanuts so palatable to adults; adults get it (or, more aptly, they get not getting it).

One thing I noticed this does, when reading a lot of Peanuts strips in one go and there's a long-running storyline, is the pacing gets kind of staggered. There is, to be sure, a clear flow within each strip, but the transition in between installments is a little stilted. That's of course in large part because of the serialized nature of the strip, but you know where else I find that kind of pacing? Very frequently, in grounded, down-to-earth, "indie" comics, such as the works of Dan Clowes, Chris Ware, and Seth. It's very similar to the way they jump or transition from one scene to the next, by ending one scene in a kind of open-ended way and then moving on rather abruptly. Reading A Golden Celebration is when I actually thought, "Oh, so that's where they get it from," something that never occurred to me even after a lot of them discussed the influence of Peanuts on their works in Top Shelf Asks the Big Questions.

Peanuts seems like simple work, but it's very nuanced. There's a complex web of interpersonal relationships that, when closely examined, kind of highlights the tragedy of the whole setup. Charlie Brown takes care of Snoopy, but Snoopy can't even remember his name, often referring to him as "the round-headed kid." Sally Brown doesn't seem to care what happens to anyone around her, and Lucy Van Pelt is as nice to her little brother Rerun as she is mean to her middle brother Linus, even if she's continually mentioning how similar they are to each other. Perhaps most tragically, for all the times Lucy pulls away the football or tries to bring down Charlie Brown, she also seems to genuinely like him, as much as someone like her is capable of genuinely liking anyone. This kind of characterization, when done in superhero comics, tends to get lost on fans, who mostly take whatever any character says or does at face value.

Side note to the whole thing: Lucy was based on Schulz's first wife. Make of that what you will.

Check out the facial expressions up there. It's easy to read Lucy's words and see that she's angry, and she is, but her brow's not furrowed at all. She's legitimately worried. Schulz could do subtle emotions; it's just easy to overlook them because of the simplicity of the art style.

Another thing that struck me was the letters that Schulz received, one being this particularly negative reaction to Franklin, the African-American character.

Gentlemen:

In today's "Peanuts" comic strip Negro and white children are portrayed together in school.

School integration is a sensitive subject here, particularly at this time when our city and county schools are under court order for massive compulsory race mixing.

We would appreciate it if future "Peanuts" strips did not have this type of content.

Thank you.

Look, this is a big deal. I know we want to get to a part in our history where this kind of thing is no longer a big deal, and Schulz probably just wanted to reflect reality as he saw it, but there was really no way, I think, he was drawing Franklin going to the same school as Peppermint Patty and Marcie and not thinking, in 1969, that he was going to get that kind of reaction. And you know what? It's okay. People like to complain about "diversity for the sake of diversity," but to that I say, (1) really, what else would it be for the sake of?, and (2) what is so wrong about doing something for the sake of diversity?

It would be easy to continually create all-white casts and it would still sell if it were entertaining, but you do need to make a conscious effort if you wish to diversify your casts. And that's important. People of all races and orientations should be able to project themselves into these things. People complain about that kind of thing today, but it requires a conscious effort. Diversity is and has always been an important thing to work towards. So in that sense, my hat's off to Charles Schulz. I can't even imagine what Franklin meant to young black kids growing up in the late 60s.

So I think I get Peanuts now, but I can't really say it works for me or that I'd seek it out, since a good portion of it still kind of leaves me cold on an emotional level. Except if Peppermint Patty is in it.

Patricia Reichardt is and has always been my favorite Peanuts character. She's insecure and kinda dumb, but she's got gumption and spunk and she stands up for what she believes in. I think that combination makes her adorable, and she's definitely, for me, the most consistently entertaining character in the whole strip. Schulz has called her "the part of us that goes through life with blinders on," and he's right. Peppermint Patty is nonstop, full gear, on with life. She enjoys life, even though she doesn't get it, and when something stops her in her tracks, we feel it, because she's such a great vehicle for driving a story forward.

When Peppermint Patty shows up in A Golden Celebration, my speed of reading increased immediately. When her first appearance came on in my GoComics subscription, I suddenly started paying attention to Peanuts. She's just that entertaining for me.

Here are some of my favorite Peppermint Patty strips.

Charles Schulz has called Peppermint Patty a strong enough character to carry her own strip, and I'll be honest, if she had headlined her own daily newspaper strip, I'd probably have been a fan, and I'd have read it all the time.

As it is, I'll have to settle for Peppermint Patty strips in a larger strip that doesn't always work for me. But that's okay. Even if it doesn't always work for me, I can still appreciate it.

This column is dedicated to the memory of Debra Jane Shelly, who convinced me to give Peanuts another try, and who passed away days before I found a copy of the Golden Celebration.

Spider-Man Complaints That Need to Stop

As far as superheroes go, Peter Parker is a complex character. And by that, I mean he's full of contradictions. But we as fans have such set notions of who he is and what he should be like and what his reaction to any given situation would be, and for whatever reason, the idea of going back on a promise or lying or anything other than what's directly said on the page or the screen seems to befuddle a lot of fans. So here now, I present to you...

Spider-Man Complaints I Keep Seeing That Need to Stop

by Duy

Complaint #1: Spider-Man would never give up! 

Yes, this has never happened. Ever.

Amazing Spider-Man #18, by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko

Amazing Spider-Man #50, by Stan Lee and John Romita

Corporate superhero comics are cyclical in nature. Readers now probably were not reading the last time a particular story was done. The big difference is that things like this are going to be more protracted as time goes on, as you need more space and time to deal with emotions and fallout.

I'll just go ahead and say that yes, in the next 10 years, you will see a story where Spider-Man quits and gets replaced. You will see a story where Steve Rogers stops being Captain America. You will see many stories where Batman will mention his parents a lot, and it will probably be set in Crime Alley and involve pearls. Superman's origin will be retold again, and Iron Man will have to deal with his technology being used for the wrong purposes. These are part of these characters' overall makeup and composition, and if you're tired of seeing these stories repeat themselves, it's probably time to move on.


Complaint #2: Why is he so angry?!?

I see this in relation, mostly, to the new movie franchise, mainly because people mostly remember Tobey Maguire whining and crying. Andrew Garfield's got a bit more of an edge, just like some dude I read in the comics.

Amazing Fantasy #15 (Stan Lee and Steve Ditko)

Amazing Spider-Man #30 (Stan Lee and Steve Ditko)

Amazing Spider-Man #37 (Stan Lee and Steve Ditko)

Complaint #3: How dare he date anyone else!

Look, he can date people other than Gwen Stacy and Mary Jane Watson and the Black Cat. It's okay. The issues where he dates them still exist; you can read them anytime; and those characters didn't get to the level they did without being given a chance for exposure to begin with.  I'm sure people were really opposed to Felicia Hardy when she was introduced because she wasn't Gwen or MJ, but creators should have the opportunity to tell stories they want to tell with characters they want to tell it with.

(I'd also like to point out that sleeping with two women, especially when one of them is your ex, when you're single doesn't make someone a slut, as a good portion of fans apparently thought when he went to bed with Michele Gonzales and the Black Cat — separately, get your minds out of the gutter! — in the span of a few issues.)


Complaint #4: Spider-Man should never break his promises!

He's about to break a big promise in the next movie, and apparently this is a big terrible thing. Wait, let's check out that time he forgot that whole "I'll never let a criminal go free anymore, Uncle Ben, I swear," vow...

Turns out that dude eventually finds this...

And leads someone to it, who eventually uses the equipment to become the Hobgoblin.

OH NO! And all because Spider-Man didn't want to go traipsing around in the sewers!

Of course he breaks promises. That's when bad things happen.


Complaint #5: Peter Parker's morals are unshakeable and he's the greatest person ever! 

No, that's Superman. You're thinking of Superman. Peter Parker does things like this.

Amazing Spider-Man #4 by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko
Somewhere, some dude is reading this and taking Spider-Man's rationalization
at face value, instead of reading it as Spider-Man overly rationalizing.

Amazing Spider-Man #9, by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko
At least Peter admits it this time.

Spider-Man is a great character, and he's often been called an everyman. But he's not an everyman because he's a genius or because he can leap three stories in a single bound or because he dates girls like Gwen Stacy in her go-go boots and Mary Jane Watson the supermodel and Felicia Hardy in her latex catsuit. He's an everyman because he makes mistakes, he's prone to undesirable traits, and he has to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Just like us.


You can read these stories in the following volumes below, from Amazon, or if you don't live in the States, through Book Depository: