Write The End for the character of your choice.

Anika

Franklin’s power set is basically what would happen if Wanda Maximoff and Jean Grey had a baby. And Valeria is on track to be the Smartest Person in the Universe. Phenomenal Cosmic Power versus Fantastically Incredible Intellect. Imagine adult Franklin and Valeria, 30 years or so from now, at the height of their power, and at odds. Valeria is a victim of her own intelligence. She sees how things could be, should be, would be if only they listened to her. She sees all the solutions so clearly she loses sight of the people involved in the problems. She doesn’t want to rule the world, she wants to save it — but they won’t listen! Dictatorship is the only way. And Valeria Richards has been surrounded by heroes and villains, science and secrets, her entire life. She knows how to counteract everyone and everything, and she does it practically overnight.

The only one who can stop her is Franklin. But he refuses. He goes to Valeria determined to convince her to surrender, and he will make it so none of this will ever happen. They can go back to being the newest and greatest incarnation of the Fantastic Four (with Dani Cage and Kid Torch) as they were before she went all Dr. Doom. But Valeria expected that, too. She is ready with an answer to every argument and an explanation for every wrongdoing. She blinds him with science. Franklin agrees to join her. All appears lost.

In the final issue of the arc, the remaining heroes, villains, and regular people of the world band together to combat the Richards, considered to be the greatest threat ever conceived of. Battle is imminent when Franklin and Valeria — oddly young again — appear to be beside everyone. They point out how well everyone is working together, how differences are set aside when faced with a common enemy. They ask why it takes that common enemy for this to happen? The people begin to see why Valeria did all this and the real Franklin and Valeria appear, without weapons or defenses, ready to usher in a new era of real communication and peace. But one man is not convinced, he is more afraid than inspired, he rushes Franklin, shooting first and asking questions later. But the bullet doesn’t hit Franklin, it hits Valeria when she jumps in front of him.

Valeria is human. Her only superpower is genius of a level beyond calculation. Franklin cradles her, dying, in his arms. He tells her he is bullet proof, she knows that! There was no chance he could be killed! She says, no, there was a chance, .00000625%. He says the odds were with them, why did she do it, knowing the chance he’d be hurt was so miniscule? She answers the most important thing to understand about knowing everything is there is always the chance that she is wrong. And she dies, knowing Franklin could save her but he won’t, because, finally, he understands.

Caroline

I proposed this topic because I wanted to come up with an idea about a superhero who realizes that he or she has achieved a lifetime’s superheroing goals and decides to walk away from the life. Then I realized I wanted to write about my all-time favorite comic book character, Tony Stark, and those two ideas don’t go together. Tony is a guy who, as he gets up there in years, will think about retiring a lot. He has always obsessively attended to his legacy, after all, and has a dozen (a hundred dozen?) contingency plans for what will happen to his technology when he isn’t around any more. He also has a habit of fitting his friends and trusted associates out with tech-based powers of their own. Tony could, in principle, plan for his retirement better than anybody alive. But he would just keep coming back for one last mission, because what all that planning really means is that he wants to do everything himself. He might divide Stark Industries up, King Lear-like, but — like Shakespeare’s hero — he’d never quite be able to take his hand off the wheel, and he’d certainly never be able to stop thinking like the boss.

Sending Tony out in a blaze of glory doesn’t really work, either. Even if we’re in a situation where we convince everybody to believe in the permanence of comic-book death, self-destruction and martyrdom come too easily for the guy. Instead, I think Iron Man’s end should require Tony, the ultimate futurist, to leave the stage in a way that gives him a chance for another future.

As an old man, he is in the process of wrapping up his company and passing the legacy on to his hand-chosen successors. He sets out on a final mission, with a group of younger Avengers, where they are thrown into another dimension who have developed mystical healing methods that prolong human life, but are only beginning to understand and manipulate technology. In doing so, they’ve discovered its great power for destruction. The Avengers help solve the immediate problem, but when the rest of his team returns to Earth, Tony decides to stay behind. He can guide this civilization as they learn how to face the technological future responsibly.

He might be able to help. He might screw up very badly. As the story ends, we don’t know, and that’s the ending that Marvel’s great futurist deserves.

Jennifer

Recently, Mark Millar wrote a story arc called “Old Man Logan,” detailing the life of a very old Wolverine who had outlived all his fellow heroes. As the story began, we learned that Logan no longer popped his claws, for some unknown reason, and had settled down to a simple, domestic farm life with a red-haired wife and two kids, one of whom was named Scott. All of this felt absolutely right to me. Unfortunately, the series soon morphed into a gross-out bloodbath of epic proportions, full of Millar’s characteristic bombastic, vaguely-offensive humor, including villains who were the inbred descendants of a tryst between the Hulk and She-Hulk. My interest quickly waned.

But I still find myself attracted to that initial setup, the setup of a Logan who has settled down to a relatively sedate life, in a world where the battles have mostly been won — or at least where he’s no longer needed to fight them. Wolverine may be the best there is at what he does, but if “what he does” is no longer required to make the world a safer place, he strikes me as the type who’d be more than happy to get out of the business altogether, since it’s torn at him emotionally for most of his life.

Of course, a normal, steady life doesn’t lend itself well to dramatic storytelling, so something needs to come along to shake that up. And (assuming this is a world where, if Logan had a spouse and kids at any point, they’ve since died of old age and grown to adulthood, respectively), that spanner in the works should be Jean Grey. Grant Morrison’s run on X-Men established that Jean has the capacity to come back from the dead far in the future, and if she did, I absolutely believe she’d gravitate to Logan, the only remaining connection to the world she used to know. Together, the two of them would find themselves pitted against a threat of cosmic proportions (which had triggered Jean’s resurrection), and their partnership — accompanied, of course, by either the literal or metaphorical ghost of Scott Summers — would ultimately save the world.

At that point, any number of things could happen — Logan could float off with Jean to the White Hot Room, or they could settle together on earth, taking on new, less-militant roles in the fight for a better world. (Jean, after all, displayed quite a bit of political aptitude in her last living days). Either way, Logan would finally find true peace — not the boring, tenuous holding pattern he’d been living — and his claw-popping days would be officially over.

Sigrid

There’s two kinds of characters whose ends I’d like to write. The characters I detest, and the characters I like. But, in the spirit of Fantastic Fangirls, I’m going to stick with the positive and discuss the end of a character I love. Magneto.

Magneto deserves a positively royal send-off. If I killed him, he’d die in absolute glory and complete futility. Because that’s really his life, is it not? His life’s goal and ambition is to prevent things which are brought about by human nature. To prevent the fear, loathing, and persecution of a powerful and alien minority. The only way to achieve this goal, as Magneto knows perfectly well in his less-than-sane phases, is to kill the entire human race. He’s never going to do it. He’s never going to create perfect safety for his people. It’s impossible.

But that doesn’t stop him from trying. My favorite Magneto, the one I hold fondness for, is the semi-reformed Magneto of the 80s who led Xavier’s school. The headmaster who was really no good at his job, but tried anyway. That Magneto turned into the 90s Magneto who tried for isolation in the Savage Land, the one who fell in love with Rogue — the one who murdered anyone who didn’t go along with his schemes. For our Erik it’s a short, short distance from giving demerits to stubborn students to spearing followers on a length of rebar. It’s all kinda the same to him.

So Magneto’s end? He’s working with the X-Men, not trusted by them but still doing his part. (Much like he is now, in Carey’s Legacy and Fraction’s Uncanny.) Some of the students and younger X-Men follow him, are attached to him. And he views them as another shot at redemption. Another chance to lead and shape the next generation as he has failed to do so many times — beginning with his many failures with his children. This time the threat is not from outside, not from mutant-haters or common humanity, though. One of his students, a dark-haired girl with dark eyes and a quiet demeanor, develops powers beyond her control. In the ensuing struggle it becomes clear that the only way to stop her involves the death of someone else.

Is it a gift of noble sacrifice? An act of despair? A shot at redemption? Or merely overwhelming hubris and the belief that he can’t actually be killed? For whatever reason, Magneto steps into the situation and dies to save his student. His last word, which his students hear but don’t completely understand, is “Wanda.”

What is The End for the character of your choice?

Stumptown #4 by Greg Rucka and Matthew Southworth went on sale this week. Published by Oni, this fourth issue wraps up what I hope is the first of many stories featuring the protagonist Dex Parios. Because, frankly, Stumptown is a modern noir classic.

If I’m going to say that — and I am, and I do — then I have to get a couple of things out of the way. First, what do I mean by noir? I’m going to go with James Naremore, speaking in his book More than Night: Film Noir in its Contexts (1998), and say that noir is “a loose, evolving system of arguments and readings that helps to shape commercial strategies and aesthetic ideologies.” (p 11) In other words, noir is what people say it is at the time that the words are said. Noir is always a reaction to and an homage of what has come before. Yet each act of noir is firmly rooted in the time of its creation.

Noir style is, more than any set of characteristics, a collective memory of stylings and traits which were often observed in their absence. Classic film noir is notable for how few of the standard visual tropes each individual film may have. Yet we have this collective vision of noir style composed of dark shots, blunt-yet-witty repartee, slinky dresses, and bruised faces. Stumptown meets all of these criteria. Matthew Southworth’s beautifully inked art and the moody, evocative coloring of Lee Loughridge create a landscape of noir. It’s a place of shadows that hide the actions of the sinners. Even the well-lit scenes of daylight, or in the casino, only serve to punctuate the shadowy nature of the characters. You can’t have shadow without some source of light.

And that, I think, is the source of the drama in Stumptown, as in much noir. The darkness of people raised in the shadows of their families. Stumptown presents us with three families. Sue-Lynne Suppa, the matriarch with the money and power, wants to know what has happened to her granddaughter Charlotte. Sue-Lynne has made her living off the weakness of others, and holds few illusions about people. She hires a P.I. to find her granddaughter because some truths should only be found by those whose silence can be bought. Then there’s the Marencos, whose money looks cleaner than Sue-Lynne’s but is considerably dirtier. And finally there’s our protagonist, Dex Parios, and her younger brother Ansel. A family of two with little to hold between them but honest affection.

In noir, as in Puritan allegory, you can tell a person’s sins by their demeanor. Specifically, in noir, you can tell a person’s sins by how corrupted their children are. We know Hector Morenos is evil because his children are venal and sexually experimental. Sue-Lynne is morally in the middle because her family has a usual run of good and bad people mixed together. We know Dex is basically good despite her drinking and gambling because her brother Ansel is a generous, kind, thoughtful person. (He also has Down’s Syndrome, a fact which is neither played up nor down in the comic. Ansel simply is, and is a fully developed character with his own personality and agenda.) These families ought to remind you of The Big Sleep, The Long Goodbye, and Chinatown. Of slow corruption coming to light, and the one honest man who pierces that murk and muck, though they don’t really mean to.

Except, of course, that noir always also reflects the era in which it is written. And the involuntary honest man of Stumptown is a woman. Dex Parios. I won’t reveal her full name here because reading that in context made me grin for hours. I wouldn’t dream of spoiling it for you. Dex is the P.I. who is wise to the seedy ways of the world. Like Frank McCloud in Key Largo or Mace in Strange Days, Dex knows enough to know all she wants is to be left alone. She knows she’s not tough enough to tussle with the big boys, and tries to keep her head down. Yet when push comes to shove there is a core of honor in Dex that can’t be overturned. It’s something like ethics and something like the pure desire to not be pushed around — but whatever its source, it gives Dex the strength she needs to see the sordid job through.

So what noir traditions is Stumptown honoring? All of them, as far as I can tell. There’s the stubborn, cynical, honorable P.I. with bad luck and bad habits who’s in over her head. The ingenue looking for a way out. We have the femme fatale who knows more than we think. And there’s family. Family gone wrong, family as a vulnerability, or family of choice that eventually goes sour. There are also guns, switchblades, and big lunks who glower. There’s a decent cop, a lot of punching, and more than a few bottles of booze. There are secrets, and lies, and sexual tension between people who should really have nothing to do with each other. It’s a noir story from the out-of-sequence first issue to the sordid and pathetic confrontation on the beach at the end.

A few notes of interest to me which I shall bring to your attention, before I conclude. First, there’s no rape in this crime story. Second, there are many people of color who discuss many things relating to business, kidnapping, and extortion, but not merely white people. Third, there are many female characters who discuss similar topics, not merely men or their relationships thereunto. Fourth, every named character in the story has depth, including the thugs, including Ansel’s friend/sitter. Stumptown is not merely a story, it’s a humanist, feminist story that single-handedly works to redress some of the usual deficiencies of the comic book cultural tradition.

If you don’t like noir, and you don’t like crime books, then this obviously is not the book for you. But if you do like noir, if you like crime stories, then Stumptown should be at the top of your reading list. Moreover, to touch on the perennial Girlfriend List question, if your girlfriend likes The Maltese Falcon, or Chinatown, or has a thing for Bogie, or rewatches Blade Runner on a semi-regular basis, then Stumptown is for her, too. Stumptown is an amazing work of writing, a beautiful piece of art, and it should be at the top of your recommendation list for the rest of the year. Congratulations, and my thanks, to Rucka, Southworth, and Loughridge. I hope, as the last page of issue four says, we see more of Dex and Stumptown coming soon.

Email: sigrid @ fantasticfangirls.org
Twitter: sigridellis

REVIST!

This September the Fantastic Fangirls will be re-reading and reviewing a trade paperback, story arc, or graphic novel of our choice and we invite you to join us. The parameters are simple: pick a story you haven’t read in a while and for whatever reason want to revisit — maybe it was the first comic you ever read, maybe you want to be sure you really love it (or hate it) the way you think you do, maybe you want to revisit a simpler time, or a darker one, or compare it to the movie version that has since come out — whatever reason, pick it up and read it again.

We will be posting our thoughts throughout September. If you do participate send us a link to your blog post — or you can use our comments to tell us your Revisit experience.

Enjoy and spread the word!

What is your favorite Crossover Event?

Anika

House of M makes me angry.

I love Wanda’s part in Avengers Disassembled, she’s an Anakin. I expected House of M to continue that — to explore Wanda’s motivations in her troubled mind and to explore Magneto’s regrets and to bring them both back to good or alternatively set her up to be a true Darth Vader to his Palpatine and have them rain terror on the Marvel U. Both of these ideas were teased in the lead up to House of M and I was interested in, excited for even, either. But House of M was none of that. When I first read “No more mutants.” I threw the comic. And then I threw a fit. In that moment it screamed PLOT DEVICE WANDA EX MACHINA and it felt like the entire crossover event had nothing to do Wanda or Magneto or anyone. It was just a collection of pretty words and pretty pictures to get us from Point A to Point B. And I was angry.

But then two things happened. 1) I fell in love with Brian Reed’s Ms. Marvel which was based on Carol’s experiences in M-World (starting with Giant Size Ms. Marvel #1). And 2) I came to the conclusion that The House of M is actually King Lear. Magneto is Lear, Wanda and Pietro are Regan and Goneril, and Lorna is Cordelia. Imagine the last lines of Lear spoken by Layla Miller:

The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

House of M still makes me angry. But that’s why I have decided it is my favorite.

(And it is also very pretty.)

Caroline

My choice pushes the definition of “crossover,” and in a way that’s the point. 52, a DC Comics series published weekly between May 2006 and May 2007, didn’t represent a “cross” between any existing books. It worked, loosely, as a sequel to the Infinite Crisis event. Post-IC, all of DC’s books had taken a one-year time leap, allowing status quo changes in various titles. 52 purported to tell the story of what happened in that missing year. But it was so much more than that.

52 is a sprawling, novelistic look at the places and people of the DC Universe. Instead of basing the book around “big names” like Batman, Wonder Woman, or the Flash, the series picked up characters from small or forgotten corners of the universe. There was a Ralph Dibny, a former Justice Leaguer, simultaneously mournig and investigating the death of his wife; Natasha Irons, a would-be teen hero who joined a Lex Luthor-led initiative to give ordinary people superpowers; a team of lost heroes making their way back from the reaches of space; and, the reason I picked up the book, former Gotham City police detective Renee Montoya, on a quest to solve a mystery that turned out to be nothing so much as herself.

That sounds hopelessly confusing, but when I started reading 52, I was familiar with very few of the characters and almost none of the events. Perhaps because of the diverse and often obscure nature of the characters, that didn’t end up mattering much. The book was written with the assumption that some readers would know none of the characters, and almost no one would know all of them. Care was taken, then, to establish distinct personalities and specific quests for each of these people. I was lucky enough to read the series when it was all out in trade, and I remember the feeling of diving into this new world and discovering every small corner of it. It’s what good imaginative literature does, and superhero comics don’t always remember to do it often enough.

Speaking of the writers involved: a few guys named Geoff Johns, Grant Morrison, Greg Rucka, and Mark Waid. Almost as much as the story, I enjoyed reading the extra materials in the TPB’s describing the collaborative process among these four — very gifted, very opinionated, and very different — creators. The end product ends up looking like something none of them could have come up with on their own, but that somehow worked together.

52 isn’t a perfect series. There are storylines that don’t get the time they deserve (and vice versa). By necessity, the art — aside from J. G. Jones’s brilliant covers — is inconsistent, and even the good art often looks poorly finished. On rereading, I found that the ending of several major plotllines was unsatisfying, and (perhaps related) there are places you can see the distinct fingerprints of direction-change or editorial interference. There’s much more good than bad in this series, though, and considering the circumstances, it’s a bloody miracle it came together at all. But I’m glad it did.

Jennifer

I’ll note that this question does not ask for a “best” crossover event. It isn’t asking for any measure of quality. So when I give my answer, keep in mind that I’m speaking exclusively in terms of “favorite,” an inherently personal and subjective designation.

Civil War.

Civil War is not a good miniseries. It was written by Mark Millar, one of my least favorite writers in comics. Its politics are incomprehensible, its plot inconsistent and convoluted, and its characterizations frequently questionable. And the tie-ins ranged from the abysmal (Civil War: Frontline) to the irrelevant (Civil War: X-Men), with very few outliers.

And yet Civil War, coming out as it did at the very beginning of my tenure as a comics reader, has undeniably shaped what comics I read and how I read them. It was my introduction to Captain America and Iron Man, my introduction to the Avengers, and, perhaps most importantly of all, my introduction to the Marvel Universe as a huge, multi-layered landscape full of rich and diverse characters.

Civil War is responsible for Casualties of War: Captain America/Iron Man and The Confession, two of my favorite one-shot issues of all time. It’s responsible for the Death of Captain America storyline, which led to a few years’ introspective meditation on what my favorite character meant to the universe. It’s directly or indirectly responsible for the Initiative and Dark Reign eras, two of the most interesting and creatively fertile periods of comics I’ve seen. And it’s responsible for letting me to see how heroes could disagree, even fight, and still remain heroes — flawed heroes, certainly, but heroes all the same.

I’m not sure I’d recommend Civil War, on an objective level, to anyone. But I can’t imagine what my interaction with the Marvel U would be like without it, and for that I have to give it credit.

Sigrid

My favorite crossover event is DC Comics’ No Man’s Land. It is also, incidentally, why I detest Batman.

In No Man’s Land, the city of Gotham has been destroyed by earthquake. For complicated DCU reasons not bearing close scrutiny, the federal government decided to abandon Gotham. The city is evacuated and anyone choosing to remain is left without services, law, or running water. Winter is on its way. (This story was a lot more like fiction when I first read it. But I am writing this Q&A response on the fifth anniversary of the Katrina-based flooding of the city of New Orleans, and the abandonment of an entire city seems more plausible now. As does the horrendous mis-management of survival and rebuilding.) Worst of all for Gotham, though, is that all of the nutjobs and crime lords have stayed in the city, while Batman has fled.

You utter wanker, Batman. You complete WANKER. You left the city to die slowly, left your kids to try their damnedest to hold on to something. And when you got back you chewed them out for not being you.

Oh, do I ever detest Batman.

The best thing about No Man’s Land is that Batman is not the lead character. Instead, this is a balanced and nuanced story about Gotham, the city. It’s the story of Barbara Gordon and her alter ego Oracle. It’s the story of Jim Gordon and his wife Sarah, it’s the story of Harvey Bollock and Renee Montoya and the normal humans of the GCPD. It’s Helena’s story and Cassandra’s story. It’s also the story of the countless normal people who would not or cannot leave their homes.

The cast of No Man’s Land are driven to do things and make decisions that they would not do under normal circumstances. They all compromise their ethics in the face of horrible choices. Cooperating with Two-Face, making deals with the Penguin. Lying to each other with the best of intentions. Becoming people they never meant to be. It’s these sorts of decisions that Mr. I’ll-Never-Compromise-I’ll-Just-Flee-But-That-Makes-Me-Better-Than-You comes down against when he returns. Wanker.

The true heroes of this story are the people who stayed, compromised, and returned from the darkness. Barbara. Jim. Helena. Cass. Helena’s journey, in particular, makes me cheer for her, rage on her behalf, and want to stab Batman. Apparently what you need to do to gain Batman’s approval is be shot multiple times by The Joker. It does seem to be a theme, with him.

I own not only the collected trades of No Man’s Land, I own the novelization by Greg Rucka. The novelization is well worth reading, in my opinion. I highly recommend it.

What is your favorite Crossover Event?

For the third installment of the Fantastic Fangirls (Comic) Book Club, the four of us decided to read Power Girl: A New Beginning, a DC comic written by Justin Gray and Jimmy Palmiotti and drawn by Amanda Conner.

If you want to get a jump on our next book club, we’ll be reading Madame Xanadu Volume 1 Disenchanted by Matt Wagner and Amy Reeder Hadley. We’ll be discussing that sometime in October, and more details will be forthcoming.

Today, though, we’re going to start our discussion of Power Girl, sometimes abbreviated PG, by sharing an email exchange that took place among the Fantastic Fangirls’ staff. This is a starting point for whatever our readers would like to say about the book. In the comments, feel free to address any of the points that came up in our discussion, or raise a topic/question of your own. Enjoy!

Jennifer: I originally thought I’d start out this discussion with a conversation about Amanda Conner’s art. It is, after all, the reason I initially picked up the book. I knew next to nothing about Power Girl before I read this comic, and I was buying it on the strength of Conner’s expressive art — and my desire to support one of the few A-list female creators — alone.

But what took me by surprise is how much I wound up loving Power Girl as a character. From the first pages of the book, where Power Girl retells her origin and states her need to start anew in New York, I was absolutely hooked. I love how she has so much in common with Superman — the first page is intentionally reminiscent of Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely’s first page of All-Star Superman — and yet her personality, her gender, and her circumstances have given her life a very different shape. I love how the immigrant metaphor is used, especially since New York City is her home base; Superman has always spoken to the Jewish immigrant experience of the early comics creators, but with his all-American Kansas upbringing and Golden Age origins, it’s harder to tell that narrative so explicitly when he’s the protagonist. Power Girl fills that void nicely, and Gray and Palmiotti do a great job of using the metaphor to introduce new readers like myself to Power Girl’s resilience and determination.

I also love how Power Girl is smart — the entire first arc is about how her brains more than match her body, in both the sense of her physical strength and her attractiveness. Power Girl has been used as a punchline in the past, due to the size and exposure of her chest, but here that fact is acknowledged and then brushed off in favor of more important things. Power Girl isn’t a scientist, and it would be disingenuous to make her one, but I love that she’s the CEO of a scientific company and is actively surrounding herself with the biggest brains in the world (including female scientists!) to create technologies that will better the planet. The Starrware Labs storyline, in fact, reminds me a lot of the current arc of Matt Fraction’s Invincible Iron Man — both stories are about a superhero coming back from a very low point and rebuilding a scientific company designed to make the world a better place.

So how about the rest of you? How did you feel about Power Girl as a character? Had you encountered her before, and if so, how did this portrayal stack up?

Caroline You said “stack”. Heh heh. Sorry, what were we talking about?

Oh yes, Karen Starr! I agree with you that Karen/PG’s character is what makes this series special, and that works on a couple of different levels. First, she has a lot of personality, which comes through in both the writing and the art. From the bluntly honest and often impulsive way she reacts to people to little details like the way she watches a horror movie, PG always feels like a complete and unique person. Knowing that Palmiotti and Conner are a couple, and having a general impression of Conner as a confident woman with a good sense of humor, I can’t help wondering if some of Karen’s personality is based on Amanda. That idea may have no basis whatsoever, but the point is that it’s the kind of portrayal that makes me think about the personalities of real people, rather than comparing her to “tropes” found in other comic book stories. That’s a real compliment to the work that this creative team has done.

But of course, we do end up talking about how the tropes compare to other comic book stories, and that’s where Power Girl got really interesting for me. I’ve read the TPB twice, now, and the first time I think I was looking for the wrong thing. I was expecting “B-but-would-like-to-be-A-list character has to figure out who she is as a meta-commentary for the creators and audience figuring out who she is,” because that’s something I’ve seen a lot in comics. Brian Reed’s Ms. Marvel series and the Bendis/Maleev Spider-Woman both use that idea quite a bit. It’s a solid idea — I like both those series — but on re-reading, I realized that isn’t really what Palmiotti, Gray, and Conner are doing here.

Karen Starr knows who she is. She has confidence in herself. She’s very aware of her strengths — physical, mental, interpersonal — and she finds herself in a position where she has a luxury of choices about what to do with those strengths. Jennifer’s comparison to the “Stark Resilient” storyline in Invincible Iron Man is apt, but in many ways Tony has been forced into that position. PG’s situation almost reminds me more of the place Fraction left Danny Rand in at the end of his Immortal Iron Fist run. Danny had discovered that his origin wasn’t everything that he thought, and decided to devote his fortune and efforts to making real improvements in the world. That story hasn’t gotten much followup, though; we occasionally see Danny teaching karate to poor kids or working in a soup kitchen, but that’s about it.

Maybe that’s because it’s a hard story to tell. Maybe serial comic books lend themselves more to stories about overcoming adversity and self-doubt than they do about a basically happy, competent character deciding to move forward with his or her life. Greg Rucka’s run on Wonder Woman, starting with Down to Earth has a similar setup, and that run eventually got swallowed in crossovers and big events. I can’t help thinking that this Power Girl creative team went into the story knowing that their run was going to be limited (they left/finished after twelve issues, so this TPB contains half the run), and if that actually freed them up to do a story like this. Does the relatively self-contained nature of this story allow the creators to tell better or, at least, different stories?

Sigrid As Anika said in her review of Brian Reed’s Ms. Marvel run, there is a lack of stories about grown women living their competent lives — in comics in particular, as well as possibly in fiction more broadly. This Power Girl story is one of those. Karen Starr isn’t a teenager searching for identity, she’s not a victim looking for revenge or redemption. She’s a grown woman looking to better the world and the people around her.

Do you have any idea how rare that is?

Okay, I know you, my fellow Fangirls, know, because we talk about it all the time. But, man, this is a breath of fresh air. I liked this story. I’ve never read it before, I don’t follow a lot of DCU stuff, and the only time I’ve seen Power Girl is in Birds of Prey, where she is really pissed off at her ex-girlfriend former boss Oracle for using her badly.

I realized something, reading Power Girl — Karen Starr is a fictional character I could sit down and hang out with. Most of my favorite characters are people I never want to meet, ever, nuh-uh, no way. But Karen is sane, she’s wry, she’s smart, she’s confident, she’s ethical, she’s compassionate — yet possesses none of those qualities in a smarmy, holier-than-thou way, like some Caped Crusaders I could kick across the room mention. This means that, while I liked the story a lot, and I want to send Palmiotti and Conner flowers and chocolates for writing this character, it didn’t grab me. I will likely buy the second trade, out of support and solidarity for the work, but I doubt I’ll follow Power Girl as a character.

Which is a roundabout way of addressing your question, Carrie — I do think this is a different kind of story. It’s a story there’s a lack of, it’s a story I appreciate. (The fact that I prefer protagonists to be less emotionally stable is, I think, a personal quirk and not a reflection on the value or saleability of the title.)

Caroline Ha! So basically we are discussing a story about a smart, strong, emotionally well-adjusted woman dealing well with conflicts that don’t involve her love life. . .and we (Sigrid and I, at least) are not sure that she’s interesting enough. How’s that for a feminist dilemma?

I should say that I think the stories in this book are very interesting. These 1 to 3 issue arc-light tales fit the characters and situations very well. But I’m coming away from this saying, “I would love to read more stories written by Palmiotti and Gray, and drawn by Conner,” not, “I would like to read more stories about Power Girl.” Karen feels so good, so successful, so complete that, I guess, I’m not overly attached to her because I’m not worried about her. I feel like I could stop reading the stories and she’d be fine.

To be fair, this isn’t exclusively a female-character issue. It’s one that occurs with Wonder Woman and (to be really fair) with Jean Grey if she doesn’t have Phoenix problems and love triangles to worry about. But it also happens with Superman, and it can happen with Hal Jordan or Steve Rogers if they’re not in the right hands. It’s the female version of the “Boy Scout” problem. I’d love to discuss this more (and to get Anika and Jennifer’s take on it), but I don’t want to completely veer away from what’s actually happening in this volume, either. Because I do think, when we get past the overall setup to the individual stories, the writers have created some interesting conflicts.

Anika: There’s an exchange between Karen and Terra that really stood out to me and I think it explains my “take on it” –

I wanted to thank you for helping me save the city.

I know, but it wasn’t the way I wanted it to go. I’m trying to be my own person, but I’m so used to being a team player.

Now, first of all, I love Terra. I love all Terras. The psychotic original. The Anakinesque toon version. And PG’s adorable sidekick is just as Terra-ific (I know, I know, I’m Terrable) (Shut up, you laughed). I don’t know why Atlee and Karen are BFF but I adore their dynamic. And that is, I believe, how “Boy Scout” or “Girl Scout” characters can be successful protagonists — the supporting cast. The team. Even the minor characters. If you know me at all you can guess that Teen Girl Who Wants to Save the World From Evil Anti-Environmental Practices By Using Unexplained Magic And Having Been Defeated Is Given An Internship is pretty much the BEST random encounter villain I can imagine.

And Karen also has a cat. I love the cat. And the chatty real estate broker and the shy scientist and the Agent guy who is totally from Lilo and Stitch and — you get the idea. As much as I really enjoyed Power Girl, I also really enjoyed pretty much everyone around her. I mean page 11 had a kid excited about nanites and grey goo and then on page 14 Mojo Jojo showed up. It was like they were writing for me! And I also like quite a lot that confident PG’s stated insecurity is that she’s too much of a team player. Working well with people is not a flaw, but we (Americans/Western civilization) do tend to admire and reward the people who stand apart and alone. Even in teams, leadership skills are valued the highest. Power Girl isn’t a leader, she doesn’t order her teammates around, she asks them for help and works with them to come up with the plan/solution. And she is perfectly capable of working alone, she doesn’t have to prove it to anyone, except maybe herself. As a dilemma, it is almost the opposite of the one most of my favorite characters have — my tough, angry, driven, independent women who have to learn how to accept help, depend on someone else, and form relationships — but I don’t like her any less for that. I like her a lot!

Jennifer: I’m sitting over here laughing at Caroline and Sigrid’s description of Power Girl as the female version of a “Boy Scout” (which is definitely not a Girl Scout — I was one for 13 years, I should know). It’s not a secret that so-called “Boy Scouts” are my favorite characters, and the fact that Power Girl fits into that category only makes me like her more. While I can read about characters who are screwed up and/or who I want to hit over the head, I’m always happy to read a story about someone who is competent and confident and wants to do good for the sake of doing good — it’s the trials they face, and, as Anika said, the people they interact with, that make the stories interesting. But those characters always grab me first and foremost.

I also loved the supporting cast, and I’d be very happy to read more about them in the future. Power Girl’s mentorship/friendship with Terra was probably my favorite part of the book, and one of the reasons every issue passed the Bechdel test — which is definitely not guaranteed in superhero comics, or even superhero comics about women.

Thinking about that supporting cast, and PG’s characterization, it occurs to me that the comic this reminds me of most is Dan Slott’s She-Hulk. Both comics are about confident women holding down adult jobs in an environment full of interesting characters while also being competent superheroes. And both balance humor, ingenuity (nanobots to fix collateral damage!) and continuity nods with serious character exploration. This is clearly a genre I love, and a genre we don’t see enough of. I’m not surprised that Anika and I seem to like Power Girl best of the four of us — she’s pretty much what would happen if you put She-Hulk and Ms. Marvel in a blender (with some teamwork and a pinch of alien DNA).

Anyway. I’m curious if anyone has thoughts about the craft-related parts of the book: art elements like layout, facial expressions, and costumes, and writing elements like plot and dialogue. Unlike Caroline, I actually didn’t think the superhero plots were all that original or compelling, though I appreciated the short arcs and the complete lack of decompression. This book was entirely about the character for me, and the little moments in PG’s personal life. However, I really loved the use of captions — Power Girl has a very distinct voice, and Gray and Palmiotti should be commended for that. A lot of her character can be found in those captions.

Caroline: I’m not sure I thought the plots were original and compelling, exactly, but they didn’t feel like the same thing I read every week, either. That backstory with the Ultra-Humanite was deeply weird and unsettling, and the story basically got there by taking a frivolous Silver Age concept and tearing it apart to ask what that would really be like. Also, like Anika, I found the environmentalist wizard girl a surprising antagonist. The runaway princess story was probably the most generic, but even with that one I didn’t always know where it was going to go.

What did strike me about the stories is that they didn’t feel very specific to Power Girl. You could pretty much have fit them in to any superhero’s story with slight tweaks. It sounds like, to Jennifer, that was a reason basically to handwave the plots and pay attention to the character parts. That’s basically how I read it, too — and I’ll emphasize I had a whole lot of fun with the book — but when I think over it, that suggests to me that there’s nothing really character-driven about the conflicts PG faces. She doesn’t need anything, particularly, so it’s hard for her story to have much of an arc. Tweak a few things and these plots could be happening to anybody, and at times I was wondering, “Why isn’t this a Wonder Woman book? Why isn’t it an Iron Fist book or an Emma Frost book, or a Superman book for that matter?”

This may be a weird criticism. I may have forgotten how to enjoy things just because they’re fun.

Maybe we should talk about the clothes.

Sigrid I’ll let Anika talk about the clothes. All I have to say is, I loved the entire supporting cast madly. I think I’m with Carrie — I would absolutely buy the next Palmiotti & Conner collaboration, but I might not buy the next Power Girl book. There’s something about the particularity of plot that is perhaps more important to me than I thought it would be, that is missing? But I would buy a comic about the people who work in Karen Starr’s company, and the trials they face. I would buy the hell out of that.

Okay, clothes?

Anika: I was excited for this book club because Power Girl was recommended to me by a few people — including Caroline — and most of them mentioned two things. 1. As Jen suggested, it is reminiscent of Ms. Marvel and 2. I’d love the art and specifically the clothing. I’ve read a bit about this series being written and drawn to combat Power Girl’s status as DC’s Hot Chick with Big Boobs and much like the comic, I don’t find it necessary to address that in detail, because it’s not what the story or the character is about. And of course I love Amanda Connor’s art but I don’t want to talk about the art specifically either. I want to talk about the clothes.

Our heroine has three looks in these stories: Power Girl, Ms. Starr the CEO, and Karen in her downtime. I love, love, love superhero street clothes. I love them when they resemble the heroes’ costumes to the point of absurdity and I love them even more when the hero is given a full and distinct wardrobe. Fashion and style mean a great deal to me so I read into it. Carol Danvers sleeps in t-shirts that alternately sport the words U.S. AIR FORCE, NASA, and AVENGERS. The fact that she labels herself this way says a lot about her personality without her having to say a thing (and it gives a little insight into her backstory if you don’t follow her as obsessively as me). Likewise, PG’s office wardrobe is business casual and that tells me she is serious but relaxed about her company — and the dialogue supports this. When she’s away from the office she lets her hair down — literally — and her wardrobe is playful. Both Karen and Atlee look like they shop at H&M (and Atlee likes Hot Topic). Karen’s red and yellow jacket reminds me of one Cassie Sandsmark has (falling into the resembling her Wonder Girl costume category) and the fact that Karen also has a Wonder Woman mug makes me think it is deliberate. Karen is wearing a shirt with a kangaroo on it when Atlee decides her secret identity should be Australian. The lady-bug on Atlee’s butt when her costume consists of removing her pants (because she forgot to always wear a costume) is genius. And Karen has a thing for boots, she wears them with everything.

Basically, I really like that Amanda makes Karen’s street clothes distinctive, it ties in nicely to the reoccurring discussion of secret identities. And as Christian points out over here at Red Carpet Superhero, Power Girl’s iconic costume doesn’t translate easily to street wear (but it is quite fashionable and if you’re looking to dress like PG, follow the link to find out more).

Caroline: I have to admit, I don’t love the Power Girl costume. It’s not that I think the boob window is an abomination, or anything, I just think the whole design is kind of ugly. But I have to admit, the way Conner draws her, she owns that look (and I think they had to keep the costume, because it’s the main thing that she’s known for). I like Anika’s point about her casual outfits, too. There’s some obvious thought in these, and I like that each of the characters has a distinct style. Finally, I just have to say much I loved the gag of Terra running around in her panties because she forgot her costume. It really doesn’t look much different from a lot of superhero outfits.

I liked a lot of the jokes in the book. I don’t always think “humor” books are really that funny, but there are moments in here — like the fake movie trailers — that had me laughing out loud. Still, it didn’t feel like a “joke-y” book overall. I went into this expecting something a lot more lightweight. Because the stories are more standalone, because the colors are so bright, or maybe just because I hadn’t perceived Power Girl as a serious character, I didn’t expect the book to give me as much substance in the storytelling. I think part of this has to do with the ways that it feels grounded in the real world, and I know Jennifer had something to say about the setting.

Jennifer: One of the reasons I’ve always been more of a Marvel girl than a DC girl is Marvel’s focus on New York City. As a New Jersey native, I’ve always felt a connection to NYC, and DC’s imaginary cities, no matter how detailed (Gotham) or appealing (Metropolis), never filled me with that same sense of connection. I like my fantasy to be grounded in the “real” world — Harry Potter rather than Lord of the Rings — and that’s what Marvel’s always given me.

But Power Girl also calls New York home — as does Jimmy Palmiotti — and the city as used here becomes a supporting character of sorts, in the tradition of some of the best place-specific writing. I mentioned the immigrant metaphor before, but it’s more than that — it’s the architecture of Park Slope, the fight in Prospect Park, the island geography, cheap IKEA furniture, Pete the firefighter, and the way the city’s denizens matter-of-factly refer to 9/11. I’ve always been wary of the use of 9/11 in fiction, particularly science fiction, and in a superhero universe it becomes even trickier. After all, with so many supervillain attacks happening every day, would 9/11 have had the same impact in these universes? But in this book, the characters repeatedly refer to moments of stress in the midst of disaster as “just like 9/11,” and I think it makes a lot of sense. Assuming superheroes have always been around to prevent permanent disaster, 9/11 remains the one instance in recent memory of a NYC disaster that wasn’t prevented, and is naturally the event residents would think of when faced with danger — just like real New Yorkers would, and do.

I think it’s this sense of realism, combined with Power Girl’s personality, that really sold the book for me. I can’t disagree with the comments about particularity of plot, but I’m almost glad the action plots were so generic, because they freed me up to focus on the smaller moments. I’d love to read a more continuity-dependent, Power Girl-specific story, and hope it’s written in the future, but I’m very happy with what we have here, and very happy that I got the chance to read it.

That wraps up our initial thoughts on Power Girl. What about you? What did you like about this ground-breaking work? Share your thoughts with us and the other members of the Fantastic Fangirls’ (Comic) Book Club in the comments below!

Warning: This article contains spoilers for Shadowland 1 & 2, Daredevil 508 & 509, and Shadowland: Blood on the Streets 1.

There aren’t many top-level superheroes who have flirted with “rock bottom” so often and so thoroughly as Daredevil. In the ’80s, Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli’s “Born Again” storyline saw arch-villain The Kingpin completely disassemble Matt Murdock’s life in the course of a few issues. In the 2000s, over their long run on the title, Brian Michael Bendis and Alex Maleev explored the public exposure of Matt Murdock’s secret identity and the subsequent fallout in the media, law enforcement, and his personal life. Bendis and Maleev left the book with Matt headed to prison for his actions as Daredevil, leading to Ed Brubaker and Michael Lark’s memorable lockup-movie of an arc, “The Devil: Inside and Out.”

The notable thing about these stories isn’t just that Matt has been through the wringer; that happens to every long-running costumed hero at some point. What stands out about Daredevil is that these are generally his best-regarded and most memorable stories. There are dedicated fans who love Daredevil as a swashbuckling, romantic adventurer, but it’s probably safe to say that Matt Murdock the stoic, wounded loner just inches from complete breakdown is the character most readers call to mind.

This could explain why reactions to Marvel’s current Shadowland event have been so mixed. Readers either look at this version of Daredevil and say, “What, this again?” or they say, “Well, of course that would happen.”

A quick recap: For the last year or so, Matt Murdock has been working as an “inside man” with perennial enemies The Hand. Theoretically, Daredevil and his lieutenants are trying to reform the organization from within and use it for good. However, when Bullseye blows up a city block, Daredevil declares that law enforcement in Hell’s Kitchen, which he renames “Shadowland”, will be handled by himself and his ninja sidekicks. In Shadowland #1 (written by Andy Diggle, penciled by Billy Tan), fellow heroes Luke Cage and Iron Fist come to “help” Matt, and he declares they can only fight beside him if they swear allegiance to the Hand. They don’t, of course, but instead they watch while Daredevil beats Bullseye down and then stabs him to death.

Also, did I mention? Matt is wearing a black costume.

Based on Internet chatter, the Bullseye murder was a breaking point for a lot of fans. I can’t say I blame them; from the start, this storyline echoes a lot of self-consciously grim-and-gritty storytelling choices that we’ve seen before. I was particularly peeved to see Bullseye, a character who has been built up in interesting ways in the Thunderbolts, Dark Avengers, and Dark Wolverine storylines of recent years, sacrificed for what seems like shock value.

I decided to stick with Shadowland, though, and so far I feel like it’s paying off. I’m not convinced that it’s a great Daredevil story, and it might not even be a good one. The tie-in issues of Daredevil (508 & 509, co-written by Diggle and Antony Johnston, penciled by Robert De La Torre) reveal that Matt is, most likely, being controlled by an outside force related to the Hand. While my initial reaction to this was relief (they haven’t decided to make the hero a cold-blooded killer just for fun or for hardcore points), my followup reaction was annoyance (why am I reading a story about Matt’s actions that probably isn’t about Matt’s actions at all?)

Still, if Shadowland hasn’t been a good story for Matt Murdock, it’s turning out to be a promising story for Marvel. I first picked up the series because it promised to have Luke Cage and Iron Fist fighting side-by-side, not against alien invaders or extra-dimensional sorcerers, but good old street-level crime. Sure, it’s funny that ‘street-level’ in the Marvel Universe involves ninjas with mind-control abilities, Danny Rand’s shiny mystical fist power, and his girlfriend Misty Knight’s bionic arm. Yet there’s a lot of tradition behind these stories: goofy and occasionally exploitative seventies tradition, true, but I’m not sure anybody buying Marvel comics can unthinkingly turn their nose up at that.

As I read more deeply into Shadowland, I realize how much I’ve missed the street level side of Marvel. At times Daredevil has essentially been holding that part of the universe up on its own, and as the book (particularly late in Brubaker’s run) got more introspective and more decompressed, the world around Matt seemed to shrink. With this event, it is starting to grow again. The Daredevil title is bringing Elektra and Typhoid Mary back into Matt’s world. Tie-ins are starting to appear, including Antony Johnston and Wellinton Alves’s Shadowland: Blood on the Streets, which focuses on Misty Knight’s work as a cop, plus re-introducing the female mercenary Silver Sable, and the mystically powered detective the Shroud.

Blood on the Streets is my favorite part of Shadowland so far. I love seeing Misty’s calm professional competence, plus her cute and believable relationship with Danny. (I sincerely hope, though, that the mentions of her previously-established pregnancy are not just there to set up a miscarriage/ health crisis storyline; if that happens I retract some of my praise, but so far I’m hopeful). This week’s tie-ins also promise to focus on Misty’s longtime partner Colleen Wing (Shadowland: Daughters of the Shadow), and to introduce a new character who will take up Luke Cage’s long-neglected title of “Power Man.”

Some people are going to look at all of these titles and say “cash grab.” They’re not fully wrong, but I don’t quite get this (widespread-on-the-Internet) insult. “Marvel is publishing these books because they want people to buy them so they can make money” is hardly the worst thing to be said about a for-profit company. It’s not like Blood on the Streets is the equivalent of Shadowland: Deadpool and Wolverine; it’s a natural expansion of the story we’ve already gotten, and so far it co-ordinates nicely with the other books.

I don’t think we should ever find ourselves complaining about too many good comics, especially when they provide stories and characters we don’t see all the time. I want Misty Knight stories. I want Colleen Wing stories. I want Iron Fists and Power Men, new and old. After reading the five pages that feature her in Blood on the Streets, I need more Silver Sable in my life, and I’ve already started looking for her in old issues of Amazing Spider-Man. Shadowland is taking characters I’ve missed and ones I’ve never known about and laying out their place in the fictional universe. It’s finding toys that past stories have left lying around and putting them in place for whatever subsequent creators want to play with them.

If this sounds familiar, it’s basically what’s happened to the Marvel cosmic books in the past few years. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Bill Rosemann, editor of Annihilation Conquest and War of Kings, among other events, is also steering Shadowland.

I don’t know if Shadowland will prove to be a huge commercial success, and I’m sure the stories that it produces won’t be for everyone. A lot of the cosmic stories that sprung out of Annihilation haven’t exactly been for me. I admire the impulse behind the rediscovery of the wider cosmic universe, though, and I see a similar idea behind what’s happening with Shadowland. I am enjoying the reintroduction of so many street-level characters, and I have extra appreciation for the fact that a lot of them are female and/or not white. That kind of diversity is something that Marvel could use.

Recently, Marvel started running promotions suggesting there will be a “new Man Without Fear,” fueling speculation that Matt will be taking some time off or even dying (which, in comic books, is basically synonymous). Whoever Daredevil turns out to be at the end of this event, he’ll have a richer, fuller world to move around in, and that’s the kind of thing that I like to see coming out of the shadows.

Caroline Pruett
Email: Caroline@fantasticfangirls.org
Twitter: madmarvelgirl

Note: If you’re missing our regular Tuesday feature, we’re on a bit of a summer schedule with several of our members traveling, so we’ll be skipping regular Q&A this week. Next week we’ll all be around for the Power Girl book discussion, and Q&A will resume after that.

So, as Bendis asked, who should it be?

Who should be Dani Cage-Jones’ super-powered nanny?

Anika

Dear Mr. Cage, Ms. Jones, and associated,

I am writing in regards to the enquiry for a nanny for your daughter, Danielle. While not precisely “superpowered” I have been working as a masked superhero for many years and apprenticed to the greatest (and non-superpowered) of our kind before striking out on my own. I’ve also worked in and with teams. I am more than highly qualified and I have a long experience with technology to enhance security and safety.

Qualification Summary:

Master detective. Expert in martial arts, computer science, criminology, forensics, surveillance. Also skilled in weaponry, photography, and acrobatics. Strong leader and strategist, with experience working in groups and alone. Extensive background in working with superpowered individuals. Driven, goal oriented person, good professional attitude and highly motivated individual. Excellent communication skills. First aid/CPR certified. Energetic and responsible.

Work experience and references available upon request; various names withheld to protect identity. Until we come to an agreement, please respect mine and my associates’ privacy. You may refer to me as Mr. Draper.

Thank you and I look forward to meeting with you and your daughter.

-Draper.

*If contractual obligation requires that “Mr. Draper” is unavailable, my suggestion is ANYA CORAZON.

Caroline

It’s no secret that my favorite Marvel Universe character is Jean Grey, so I suppose I have a bias, but let’s look at this objectively. Jean has experience with a child care in a superpowered setting, having helped raise Scott’s son when they were both members of X-Factor. She also has a personal history and trusting relationship with Jessica Jones, who she helped guide out of a coma when Jess was the heroine of Alias. Aside from being dead (only a minor detail in Marvel Comics), Jean presents a fine resume.

Caring and cautious parent that he is, Luke Cage might be inclined to raise some objections. For instance, Scott’s son was at least partly under Jean’s care when he was infected with a techno-organic virus and sent into the future. Luke would probably even be forced to mention the time she went insane and ate a planet. If Jessica forced the issue though (she knows as well as anyone that people deserve second chances!), Luke would then agree that Jean was the right choice, provided she spend a few hours a week in rehabilitative exercises with the rest of the ex-villains on the Thunderbolts. When they needed somebody to cover, obviously, Wolverine would be available. This would inevitably lead to drama of the, “Jeannie, I love you — I thought you were dead!” “We could be together if only we didn’t have to work opposite shifts!” variety. Fortunately, though, Wolverine has infinite spare time, as witnessed by his ability to be on every team at once, and it works out splendidly for everyone.

Until Cyclops shows up. . .

Jennifer

After a childhood spent reading every novel in the Baby-Sitters Club series, my default image of a person involved in childcare is a teenage girl. Luckily, the Marvel Universe is FULL of teenage girls. My favorite teen team, the Runaways, lives in California, so they’re out, but New York City has my second-favorite teen team, the Young Avengers. And while I can’t see Kate Bishop wanting to take care of a baby, Cassie Lang would do an EXCELLENT job.

Cassie, after all, grew up surrounded by superheroes. She spent a good portion of her childhood in Avengers Mansion, Luke and Jessica’s current home, so she knows exactly what it’s like to be a kid in a place that’s regularly attacked by supervillains (and probably knows about some secret nooks and crannies for hiding, if need be). Between her experience and her superpowers, she’s uniquely suited to anticipate and respond to Dani’s needs, and any situation that came up that required knowledge she didn’t yet possess could be resolved through a quick call to her robot supercomputer boyfriend, Vision. Plus, Jessica Jones once dated Cassie’s late father, and has acted as a mentor to the Young Avengers in the past, making Jessica a mother figure to Cassie — and thus making Cassie an older sister, of sorts, to Dani Cage. She might not be able to do full-time nannying, given her obligations to school and superheroing, but I think she’d make an excellent baby-sitter.

Sigrid

I’m trying to think what qualifications a person would need to be nanny to Dani Cage-Jones. Fearlessness. An intense devotion to duty in the face of completely ridiculous and difficult-to-believe threats. A general liking of children. Lots of connections to useful people, but a dearth of entangling attachments. Someone like, for instance, Agent Olivia Dunham from the television show Fringe.

Agent Dunham is unflinching in the face of weird science, dopplegangers, and other dimensions. She’s used to shape-shifters and understands the threat posed by someone taken over by alien intelligence. She is a crack shot and has an extensive network of connections in law enforcement and business — she could go underground for months if necessary, hiding Dani around the world. She has an over-inflated sense of duty and white-knight-crusading — Agent Dunham will. Not. Let those under her protection come to harm. She just won’t. Oh, and, Olivia Dunham has the power to [cut for spoilers for Fringe] and might be the savior of this reality.

Moreover, she sorta likes kids.

I can see the interview process now. Jess would be a little put off by Dunham’s formal manner. Luke would like her intensity, though. He would, in fact, pull Jess aside to mention that Dunham reminds him a bit of Misty Knight. After a demonstration of a diaper change and a feeding, a round in the pistol range with Clint, and a quick assessment of combat skills with Bobbi, Dunham would have a new job.

And Walter Bishop would be in charge of storytime.

Who should be Dani Cage-Jones’ super-powered nanny?

What’s your favorite news out of San Diego Comic Con?

Anika

I recently watched The Incredible Hulk with Edward Norton and Liv Tyler. I’d seen it before, but after Norton was officially out of the Avengers I sort of wanted to know if I really cared. I don’t much care for or about the Hulk generally and my feelings about the Avengers movie fall directly in between overwhelming excitement and overwhelming terror — BUT, I care enough to discover if I care.

I like that movie. I don’t love that movie. But it has enough of the tragedy to carry me through and no one stares hopelessly/helplessly like Liv Tyler. No one.

But Norton is not reprising the role. Reading through the list of possible replacements I allowed myself the passing thought that Mark Ruffalo is one of my favorite actors I really like just not enough to babble about. He definitely had my vote but he’s the best boyfriend-best friend ever in 13 Going on 30 WHY would he be cast as THE HULK?!

Yay.

Caroline

There’s going to be a new Power Man & Iron Fist miniseries! I might have mentioned before (like, in last week’s Q & A) that Luke Cage and Danny Rand, the original Power Man and Iron Fist, are one of my favorite superhero team-ups. I often seem to be the person at the con panels saying, “What’s going on with Iron Fist?” or “When are Luke and Danny going to work together again?” So, of course, I was very excited when I saw this announcement.

I then had a moment’s pause, realizing that “Power Man” here is a new, teenage character who is going to be introduced in the ongoing Shadowland event. Quickly, though, I figured that Luke has a lot of books going on, already, with his leadership of New Avengerss and Thunderbolts. Besides, he hasn’t used the Power Man name in years. It seems like a great opportunity to introduce a legacy, and one of my favorite things about legacy characters is to see them team up with some of the “original” character’s buddies. Add to that, the story is being written by Fred Van Lente, whose witty and imaginative comics are consistently among my favorites. I’ve missed Iron Fist appearing in an ongoing series (yes, okay, I love Iron Fist! I own the Toon Tumbler!), and I’ve got my fingers crossed that he’s on the way to being part of one again.

Jennifer

There wasn’t a lot that excited me personally about the San Diego announcements this year — and most of the things that did have been mentioned by my co-bloggers. But one thing that made me happy, despite the fact that it’s not really my cup of tea, is the release of news and footage of the upcoming Young Justice cartoon.

I’m not really a Young Justice fan — I read the first trade of the series and it didn’t click for me. But I know that the comic is something that makes a lot of my friends happy, and as a fan of both Peter David and lighthearted teenage superheroes, I was always pleased by the mere fact of the book’s existence. This animated incarnation, according to the SDCC news, will feature more of that Peter David magic (he’s writing several episodes), which is always a plus. It’ll also feature a cast with at least two girls and at least one character of color — which could, of course, be better, but is still more diversity than a lot of superhero cartoons have right now (particularly Marvel’s Avengers offerings). The producers seem passionate and excited, and the animation looks downright delightful — all in all, it’s a complete package of awesome. I may not wind up watching the show in the long term, but I’m very, very happy that it exists.

Sigrid

That’s easy — Kelly Sue DeConnick and Emma Rios have a five-issue mini-series, OSBORN, coming out in November. One of my favorite writers, one of my favorite artists, writing about the consequences of Norman Osborn’s Dark Reign to Osborn himself. I will buying this for certain.

What’s your favorite news out of San Diego Comic Con?

This week, at the comic store, I bought Black Cat #2. I also bought Madame Xanadu #25. And Zatanna #3.

I could have bought more X-Men related titles. God knows there are enough of them. But I stuck with my usual, and bought these instead.

I don’t normally get Madame Xanadu. This is the first issue I’ve bought. And I don’t read the Spider-Man titles, so I don’t know a ton about Black Cat. And the only DC titles I’m getting these days are Birds of Prey and Batgirl. And, of course, Zatanna.

Why get these titles? Why spend the $12.00 on titles I wouldn’t normally get?

Because they all have female leads. Because some have women on the creative teams. Because the Big Two keep insisting that female characters don’t sell books, they don’t sell solo books. Because these are good stories, with great art, and if I want more comics by women, featuring women, then I need to put my money down and buy them — even if the title is a little bit out of my usual range. The success of the Black Cat mini-series might lead to a Black Cat series. The purchase of Zatanna and Batgirl might keep those titles going for more than a handful of issues. The spike in sales of the Madame Xanadu issue #25 with Laurenn McCubbin’s art might lead to her getting more work. Issue #25 was a great jumping-in point, a single-issue story set in the advertising world of 1963. The story was creepy and foreboding, and McCubbin’s art was perfect.

I’m going to keep buying Madame Xanadu.

Because when I buy my comics — when you buy your comics — we are voting who gets kicked off the island. We are voting, with single issue sales, which titles stay and which disappear. It’s my money, my feminist dollars — and my feminist dollars see that female creators get paid, feminist creators get jobs, and female characters get time to shine.

Email: sigrid @ fantasticfangirls.org
Twitter: sigridellis

What comic book characters should be in a rock band together?

Anika

I’ve mentioned before I don’t like the X-Men in Space stories or basically anything to do with Corsair or the undeniable fact that Alex’ and Scott’s dad is a space pirate (don’t even get me started on Vulcan). In my X-Men stories (and in my Carol Danvers stories) it all makes me cringe.

However.

Christopher Summers and Freddie Mercury were secretly the same person. And it only makes sense that when Alex took over the space-pirating, he also took over the glam rock. They don’t have to change their name. THE STARJAMMERS is already one of the best band names ever conceived of. And until I am informed otherwise (hint Marvel!!) I will imagine that Alex Summers, Rachel Grey, and Lorna Dane are on tour.

Caroline

If there was ever a band of heroes that could set the music world on fire, it would have to be the Heroes for Hire/Daughters of the Dragon gang of Luke Cage, Colleen Wing, Misty Knight, and Danny Rand.

Luke, with his deep booming voice and amazing range trades off lead vocals with the spry, fast paced Colleen. Misty, with that bionic arm, is a born bass player, while Danny applies his Immortal Iron Fist to percussion. Sometimes he sticks with a standard drum kit and sometimes (as the George Harrison of the group) he brings in the world music influences he picked up in the lost city of K’un L’un. It’s an eclectic sound, befitting one of Marvel Comics’ most diverse teams. I have no idea what their music would sound like but I’m pretty sure it would be awesome.

Jennifer

For over a decade, my favorite band in the world has been Hanson, the three Oklahoma brothers who burst onto the scene in 1997 with “MMMBop.” In fact, I’ll be seeing them in concert tonight. And because of my Hanson love, I’ve come to believe that there’s something inherently lovely about the idea of three brothers working together and making awesome music, despite all the potential for sibling rivalry. In fact, being in a band probably brings brothers closer together than they would be otherwise.

So, based on this theory, I’d like to propose another band of three brothers. They’re all very different, it’s true, and they rarely get along in the comics, but under the right circumstances, I think they could be very popular — or at least memorable one-hit wonders.

If nothing else, the pyrotechnics would be amazing!

Sigrid

I just watched the movie The Runaways last week. So. Y’know.

Helena Bertinelli on bass guitar. She’s tempermental, sure, but too devoted to getting the job done to be a lead guitarist. At heart, Helena will see the song and the set through before storming out of the dressing room.

Scandal Savage, drums. Scandal is better than all of this, but as long as she gets to perform, gets to drum, and gets her pick of the groupies, it’s all fine. Nothing mends a broken heart like the new girl in the next town.

Laura Kinney, rhythm guitar. Laura will do what she is told, and will do it very, very well. You don’t want her using her initiative, though.

Jessica Jones, keyboards. She’s a little too old for this, and wonders why she said yes to coming back, but now that she’s here she’ll stick it through.

Carol Danvers, lead guitar. The actual leader of the band, Carol can’t decide if she’s a den mother or a drill sergeant. But the moments of glorious solos in the spotlight make up for the hard work of keeping this mess of a band together.

Casey Bullocks-Femur, lead vocals. Casey loves the band, loves the crowds, loves the groupies, loves the interviewers, and loves you. And every moment she sings, you know it.

So what about you? What comic book characters should be in a rock band together?