I have an annual tradition. Every January I request the latest Newbery award winner from the library. For the first time ever, this year’s award winner was a graphic novel.
I can see why it won.
C.S. Lewis once said, “A children’s story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children’s story in the slightest.” Since he died before the term “graphic novel” was even coined, I’m sure he didn’t have stories like New Kid in mind when he said that. But this book fits his definition of a good children’s story: it can be enjoyed equally by children and adults.
New Kid is about Jordan Banks, a middle-class black kid who is starting seventh grade at an elite private school. He’d rather go to art school, but his mother wants to set him up for success in life. His father reluctantly agrees with her, telling Jordan he should at least give Riverdale Academy Day School (“RAD”) a try.
Jordan faces many of the challenges we all went through when we were his age. On the first day of school, older kids oust Jordan and his fellow seventh-graders from their lunch table, explaining, “This table is for sophomores.” He yearns for a growth spurt. He’s bogged down with homework. And when he has a heart-to-heart conversation with Alexandra — the weirdest kid in his grade — he’s afraid she will kiss him.
But he also gives readers the opportunity to see middle school through the eyes of a black person. For black readers, this can be refreshing. For white readers, it can be educational.
On his first day at school, Jordan scans the hallways for another kid who looks like him. As the school year progresses, he deals with all of the assumptions people make because of the color of his skin. As he takes public transportation between Washington Heights and Riverdale, he adjusts the way he looks to fit in. In Riverdale, he writes, “I do my best not to look cool AT ALL! No shades, and definitely no hood. I don’t even like to draw, ’cause people might think I’m going to use my markers to ‘tag the bus.'”
He also has to live with the awkwardness white people express around him as they try not to be racist. His soccer coach, whom he generally likes, tells him, “Just get out there and run fast. I know you can do that! I mean, because you look athletic! Not because… you know… We’re all created equal, Jordan. I really believe that.”
Partway through the school year, Jordan attends a book fair and reflects on the differences between “mainstream” books and “African American” books. In his sketchbook, he draws book covers and imagines reviews. A mainstream book review might read “A thrilling magical tale that is sure to inspire readers of all ages to never give up until they have found the treasure they seek.” Jordan contrasts that with his imagined review for an African American book: “A gritty, urban reminder of the grit of today’s urban grittiness.” Craft’s graphic novel defies this stereotype. Jordan’s challenge is not surviving the mean streets; it’s navigating between two worlds and wondering if he fits into either.
It’s been a long time since I was in seventh grade. I know I’m not the best judge of Craft’s ability to capture adolescence, but I believe he did it well. The difficulties of that age, like feeling awkward and wanting to fit in, don’t change much. Only the details change. Craft’s details like Xboxes and slang (“‘Hanging out,’ Mom,” Jordan tells his mother. “Not ‘hooking up.'”) seem to fit.
I will be putting a copy of New Kid in my Little Free Library. I have a feeling that whoever picks it up will be delighted.
Bandette is amazing, adorable, and not the least bit humble.
In November, I wrote about The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen. During that post, I mentioned that I had started reading several comics that were mentioned in the book.
Well, I’ve made my way through a pile of books, in addition to some comics available on the web. If anything, I’m even happier I read Hope Nicholson’s decade-by-decade list of “awesome female characters from comic book history.” I didn’t choose to read every comic mentioned in the book, and there were many I would have read, but I couldn’t get my hands on them. Of those I read, there were some characters or books that left me cold. But there were some I absolutely loved. Here’s my top ten list of characters I was introduced to through Nicholson’s book. Note that not all of them are characters she chose to feature, but I discovered these characters through her book. (Okay, that’s not completely true. I knew of Squirrel Girl. I’d just never read Squirrel Girl.)
10. Squirrel Girl (from Squirrel Girl)
Squirrel Girl is one of the silliest characters on this list, but that’s part of what makes her so wonderful. While I can and do enjoy a dark graphic novel or comic book series, sometimes it’s good to read something light. Squirrel Girl fits the bill. Considering the fact that her superpowers boil down to being a human squirrel with the power to communicate with squirrels, you wouldn’t expect her to be particularly powerful, but she is. It’s the sort of comic I’d pick for someone who was at home with a nasty cold — assuming that person was open to reading comic books!
9. Hannah Marie (from Scary Godmother)
Nicholson picked the titular character from Scary Godmother for her list. Certainly, Scary Godmother is lots of fun. She knows all of the coolest ghouls, and she’s the sort of person I’d love to sit down with for a cup of tea. But her close human friend, Hannah Marie, is ridiculously cute and so fond of Halloween that I can’t help but love her. When it looks like Halloween might not happen, Hannah Marie takes charge, working hard to do what she thinks needs to be done. She bites off more than she can chew and makes mistakes, but she is, after all, a very small and very determined child.
8. Beth Ross (from Prez)
Set in a disturbingly believable dystopian future, Prez features Beth Ross, a teen-aged president who should never have been elected. Unfortunately for the real candidates, age no longer matters, but popularity does, and Ross has recently become an Internet sensation. Completely ignorant of how to play the political game, Ross immediately starts trying to make a difference, and she makes a lot of enemies in the process. It looks like there have been no new issues of Prez after volume 1 came out in 2015. Too bad. The series had a lot of potential.
7. Sister Peaceful (from Castle Waiting)
Nicholson chose Jain from Castle Waiting, but I prefer Sister Peaceful. It’s rare to find positive depictions of faith in comics. Marvel is actually pretty good at doing this — from Nightcrawler in the X-Men to Kamala Khan in Ms. Marvel, there are a number of wonderful characters who belong to some sort of faith tradition. While Sister Peaceful belongs to a fictitious order of bearded nuns, the Solicitines, the order is clearly a Christian one, and Peaceful, mischievous as she is, is a real woman of faith. In fact, part of what I love about her is her fun-loving spirit. Peaceful is loving, not judgmental — the sort of person you’d seek out as a friend. Volume One of this series, the only one I’ve been able to get my hands on so far, includes a long section on Sister Peaceful’s backstory.
6. Beauty (from Megan Kearney’s Beauty and the Beast)
This webcomic isn’t even featured in Nicholson’s book; she just quotes the comic’s creator in her section on Annabelle from Nightmares and Fairytales. When I looked up comics that were in this book, however, I didn’t confine myself to the ones from which she drew her list of superwomen. I also searched for several that Nicholson mentioned in passing. One of those was Beauty and the Beast.
It took me several pages to really get into it, but once I did, I was hooked. Part of this was because I’ve always loved that particular fairy tale. Kearney is relatively faithful to the story, although she adds some nice touches, such as making Beauty’s sisters pleasant people instead of spoiled brats and having Beauty genuinely wrestle with her feelings about the being she sees as her jailer, albeit a kind-hearted jailer. But honestly, part of my enchantment is because Kearney writes a darned good slow-burn romance. Although I know how the story will turn out, as long as Kearney remains faithful to it, I still find myself awaiting each update to see what happens next.
5. Kamau Kogo (from Bitch Planet)
Without being the least bit like A Handmaid’s Tale, Bitch Planet is its comic book equivalent. In Bitch Planet, women are subservient to men, and the most powerful men are referred to as “father.” Non-compliant women are imprisoned on Bitch Planet. The situation seems utterly hopeless, but there are still women — and men — who are willing to fight the system. Issues of this comic tend to end with smart-alecky ads for products like Agreenex, which “doesn’t change your circumstances, but… keeps you from caring.” There are several strong female characters in the series. Nicholson featured Penny Rolle, who certainly is an awesome character, but so far my favorite is the extremely badass Kamau Kogo.
4. Martha Washington (from The Life and Times of Martha Washington in the Twenty-First Century)
Partway through Martha Washington, it occurred to me that there are probably several liberals and conservatives in its fanbase. Martha lives under a series of different governments, and all of them are deeply flawed. The conservatives are oppressive. The liberals are ineffective and corrupt. Even groups that truly mean to look out for the greater good go bad in the end. Through it all, Martha does her best to follow her conscience and fight for what she believes is right.
3. Maika Halfwolf (from Monstress)
I almost didn’t read Monstress. I knew I could expect violence and gore, and the first volume delivered just that. But it was a stunningly beautiful comic with a character who truly wrestles with an inner demon. Along with Bitch Planet and Martha Washington, this is another dark, dystopian story, but this one is set in a magical world that clearly isn’t Earth. Maika looks human, but she is really an Arcanic, part of a magical race that is at war with human beings. She’s extremely powerful, and her companions are terrified of her, but as one of them explains, “I followed you. I thought it would be safer. You’re good at killing.” Grim as this series is, I’m eagerly awaiting the next volume.
2. Patty-Jo (from Patty-Jo ‘n’ Ginger)
Nicholson picked Torchy Brown for her book. I’m glad she did, because that character led me to the biography of her creator, Jackie Ormes. The story behind the biography itself is fascinating: author Nancy Goldstein, an expert on dolls, was helping a friend research the Patty-Jo doll and became fascinated with Ormes. Ormes was the first African American woman cartoonist, but she left behind few personal papers, and it was impossible to find many of the newspapers in which her work appeared. Goldstein conducted interviews with people who’d known Ormes and dug up as much information as she could to tell Ormes’ story and reproduce samples of the four comics she created — two single-panel comics and two Torchy Brown comic strips.
Torchy Brown is a career woman and romantic heroine who appeared first in the 1930s and later in the 1950s. I can see why Nicholson might include her, but I was far more interested in the precocious little girl, Patty-Jo, from Ormes’ longest running comic, Patty-Jo ‘n’ Ginger. While Ormes did include social commentary in her other comics, Patty-Jo ‘n’ Ginger was where she really let loose with commentary on everything from racism to McCarthyism. Learning about Jackie Ormes was probably the greatest discovery I made as a result of Nicholson’s book.
1. Bandette (from Bandette)
Like Squirrel Girl, Bandette is a light-hearted comic with a heroine you can’t help but love. Bandette considers herself the greatest thief in the world, and she very well may be. But while she loves to steal, she hates villainy, and she’ll frequently aid the police in bringing down criminal masterminds. She has a weakness for chocolate, and I was very disappointed when I found that her favorite candy bar, Chocobolik, isn’t real. Her friends adore her, and even some of her enemies, such as the swashbuckling assassin Matadori, can’t help but become her friends. Every time I finish a volume, I want to visit Paris. If I manage to go, I may find myself wishing that a gravity-defying, big-hearted thief would pop out of nowhere and ask me for a chocolate bar.
Have you read The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen? If so, what wonderful superwomen has Nicholson introduced you to through her book?
Okay, I’m embarrassed. This is just one pile of the books I’ve checked out since reading The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen. Yes, I have a book problem.
When a friend offered to loan me The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen: Awesome Female Characters From Comic Book History, my response was “Heck, yeah!” After all, Wonder Woman was featured prominently on the cover.
It wasn’t what I expected. But I still thought it was wonderful.
It was, perhaps, unfair for me to expect this to be a book about female superheroes. Author Hope Nicholson said in the introduction that the book would be a decade-by-decade exploration of “the weirdest, coolest, most of-their-time female characters in comics — for better or for worse.” And that’s pretty much what she delivered. But from the title and the cover, I had decided I’d be encountering more women like Wonder Woman — heroic figures. Instead, I was introduced to women in all their complexity. Some sounded like great role models; others… not so much.
The author definitely picked some weird women for her book. I recognized few of the characters she featured beyond the iconic figures she picked for each decade (and even a couple of those were new to me). Some of the “superwomen” she mentioned only appeared in one or two issues of a comic. Many are hard to find now, though there are still plenty of accessible books out there.
The women are products of their decades. The ’30s gave us strong female characters, but some originated in men’s pulp magazines, so they weren’t always fully clothed. On the other hand, I was a little depressed by the chapter on the ’50s. The representatives of the decade, like “Lucy the Real Gone Gal” and “Man Huntin’ Minnie of Delta Pu,” seemed shallow compared to the women who came before them. Nicholson still managed to see something good in each of them. Lucy, for instance, was a “spoiled girl whose focus is on the latest fashions and the cutest boys.” Despite that, Nicholson seemed to enjoy her, writing, “it’s pretty refreshing to see a teenager acting like a real teenager, full of hormones and misplaced rage.” The author did her best with what was available, and she certainly unearthed some interesting characters.
I didn’t always understand why Nicholson picked the characters she included in the book. Why did she choose two characters from the Elfquest universe but only one of the X-Men? And why, of all the X-Men, did she pick Dazzler? I also keenly felt the absence of some recent characters, such as Adrienne Ashe from Princeless and Alana from Saga. Nicholson gave a nod to Saga in her introduction to the current decade, but no characters from the series were included.
Many characters and comics didn’t appeal to me as I read about them. Some came across as poor role models, like Lucy. Others seemed to exist primarily as vehicles for porn. But when I finished the book, I still had a long list of comics I wanted to read. Since I finished Nicholson’s volume, I’ve read Rose (a Bone prequel), a volume of iZombie, and a volume of Squirrel Girl. I found all of them enjoyable — even iZombie, and I swear I really am not into zombies.
Despite my criticisms, I was impressed by the sheer number of unusual female characters Nicholson managed to dig up. She clearly knows her stuff. And while this isn’t the sort of book in which I’d expect poetic descriptions, it’s well-written. Every once in a while Nicholson delivers an absolutely beautiful bit of writing, such as when she described the women Johnnie Christmas created for Firebug: “their weight lies on their bones as it would in real life.”
If you enjoy comics or are interested in how women have been portrayed in pop culture over time, I highly recommend The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen. You’ll almost certainly close the book with a list of comics you’ll want to track down.
Although The Tick was a comic book superhero before he appeared on TV, I first encountered him in a 1994-96 cartoon. I fell in love with the quirky show, filled with ridiculous heroes and villains like Bipolar Bear and El Seed. The big blue hero is the subject of three different television series: the animated series, a brief-lived live action show in 2001, and now an Amazon Prime series.
The Tick is a muscly man in what appears to be a blue suit (it may be a part of The Tick himself). He is known for his “incredible strength, nigh invulnerability, and a teeny-tiny little brain.” Arthur is his crimefighting partner — an average man who acts as the brains of the duo. The Tick is optimistic and childlike; Arthur balances him with his adult realism. They’re the perfect pairing of crime-fighters — something that The Tick realizes long before Arthur does.
Beyond The Tick and Arthur, there are few similarities between the three shows and the comic book series (I admit that I’ve read only a handful of the comics). All of them include Arthur’s sister, Dot, who is not crazy about his “lifestyle.” All include an ancient villain known as The Terror. But there are big differences in terms of the supporting cast and tone of each iteration.
The animated series is a high-energy Saturday morning cartoon, suitable for most children but enjoyable for adults. In addition to The Tick and Arthur, frequently recurring characters include Die Fledermaus, a cowardly womanizer who resembles Batman, and American Maid, a Wonder Woman parody who’s one of the more competent heroes in the series. These two characters are unique to the cartoon; in the 2001 series, they were replaced by Batmanuel and Captain Liberty.
The 2001 series is well-loved (as is the animated series — both are rated a 7.9 out of 10 on IMDB). I confess that I’m not crazy about it. The humor is more adult, and the focus is on relationships, not crime-fighting. It comes across as a sitcom about superheroes. It has its moments; the episode “Arthur, Interrupted,” in which Arthur “comes out” as a superhero to his family, is pretty funny. But it can also be predictable. If I tell you to write a scene with two characters and a bulldog with a hand grenade in its mouth, you’d probably come up with something similar to part of the “Couples” episode.
Amazon has released six episodes of its series so far, and I’ve really enjoyed them. They’re darker than the other versions of The Tick, and Arthur takes longer to reconcile himself to being a hero. But it still retains much of the humor of the comic books and the other shows. The characters are delightful. I love Overkill, a Punisher-type character whose ill-matched partner is a boat with artificial intelligence.
If you love superheroes and silliness and have not yet experienced The Tick, it’s time to give it a try. Unless you’re into comic books, I’d recommend starting with the cartoon or the Amazon series. If you love The Tick and Arthur and their crazy adventures as much as I do, you’ll probably try all of the takes on these characters… and you may find that each is wonderful in its own way. You might even be inspired to bring your favorite character to life.
I first heard about Cathy Malkasian’s graphic novel, Eartha, from Glen Weldon on Pop Culture Happy Hour. I don’t remember his exact words, but I believe he described it as “beautiful.” He was enthusiastic enough that I bought a copy and was prepared to be enthralled.
I was disappointed in the first chapter. Although I am not a person who needs action-packed sequences to stay interested, the story’s pacing felt too slow for me. In the beginning we meet Eartha and the people of her home, Echo Fjord. We learn that they harvest dreams from the City, but recently the dreams have become scarce. When a few dreams finally appear, the first to show up is a graphic sex dream. At that point in the novel, I thought the dream was meant to titillate (pun intended), but it plays an important role in the second part of the book. In fact, many seemingly throw-away details in the first chapter will crop up later on.
Things finally pick up when Eartha leaves Echo Fjord for the City. When she arrives, she finds that the populace has become obsessed with news in the form of a biscuit. As she explores the mysteries of the City and inadvertently shakes things up, she collects allies — just as any protagonist in a fairy tale would.
Eartha’s adventures in the City completely won me over. The story itself is enthralling. The characters are strong, and the art is gorgeous, though not stereotypically so.
Eartha is not only beautiful, though — it’s also timely. As people obsess over their biscuits, she keeps asking, “Is it true?” I don’t know when Malkasian finished the book, but I have to believe she was commenting on our society with this story.
You need to know that Eartha is not like typical graphic novels; it’s hardcover and therefore not cheap. It may be difficult to get at the library, since it is so new, but it’s worth requesting if you decide not to buy it.
I wasn’t going to write about Ms. Marvel. Kamala Khan has held that role for more than three years now, and she has been discussed by many pop culture critics. Since I try to avoid things I think most people already know about, I’ve told myself that I shouldn’t bother with the “new” Ms. Marvel.
But sometimes I’m reminded that things that I think almost everyone knows about are not, in fact, as popular as I imagine them to be. Ms. Marvel is well-known in the geek community, but lots of people don’t keep up with comic books. In all probability, many of my readers know little to nothing about this superhero. So when I read the latest Ms. Marvel volume, Civil War II, I decided not to resist the impulse to write about it.
Khan is a Pakistani-American living in Jersey City. She’s a typical teen geek; she loves Captain Marvel (the former Ms. Marvel, Carol Danvers) and Iron Man, and she writes fanfiction. After being exposed to the Terrigen Mist, she gains her powers: primarily the ability to change her body size — “embiggening,” shrinking or stretching all or part of her body at will — and the ability to heal quickly. Over time, and with mentoring from different heroes, she takes on the role of protecting Jersey City. She also joins the Avengers.
There are so many reasons I love Ms. Marvel. I revel in her unabashed geekiness. I enjoy watching her deal with typical teen problems and grow both as a person and as a hero. I also appreciate how Marvel has created a positive Muslim character; I think she is badly needed today. I was fortunate enough to grow up in a very diverse city. One of my close friends was a Muslim. Her family, immigrants from Bangladesh, warmly welcomed me into their home. I’m glad that Kamala represents the positive experience with Muslims that I had with my friend and her family.
Although Ms. Marvel has been dark from time to time in the past, particularly in the Last Days volume, it was generally a light-hearted comic aimed at a young audience. Civil War II is darker. Like last decade’s Marvel Civil War storyline, Civil War II crosses over several comic books. The focus of the conflict is a debate over the use of precognition to arrest criminals before they commit their crimes. Yes, the story has been told before — there’s even a nod to Minority Report when one character mentions “that one movie with that short actor.” Still, it’s well-told here. (I should note that I’m not really into crossover storylines like this, and I have only read Civil War II as far as it appears in Ms. Marvel comics.) Ms. Marvel has to think through the ethics of arresting people before they are to commit a crime, and she endures the agony of having to take a stand against one of her idols. This volume is thoughtful, beautiful, and heart-breaking.
There are only six collected volumes of Ms. Marvel comics to date; there will be seven as of Aug. 1. Since you can still digest all of the new Ms. Marvel comics easily (as opposed to all of the Wonder Woman comics), I recommend you start with volume 1, No Normal, and go from there. If the series seems too light or childish for you, you might want to jump ahead to Civil War II. Ms. Marvel was never bad, but in my opinion, she is getting better and better.
