Marvel Comics made headlines when they announced last year.
that a new series would be debuting with a young, female Muslim as the lead
character. First: a female-led superhero book? A rarity.
But second: a Muslim character in
the lead? Unheard of in the superhero
genre. This was a big deal, and (unless
you were one of the many close-minded, vociferous, “fans” of the medium online)
something for which Marvel deserved recognition. Shepherded by editor Steve Wacker, it was
definitely more important for this book to be really good, right out of the
gate, than the typical superhero launch – not just in terms of the genre of
superheroes, but also in terms of how the Muslim characters were handled. Marvel signed G. Willow Wilson, author of
prose and comics who also happens to be female and Muslim, to write the series,
while artist Adrian Alphona, co-creator of the Runaways with Brian K. Vaughan,
to do the art. This was an extremely
intelligent first step. But, the book
still needed to be good.
Well, it is. The
first volume of the new Ms. Marvel introduces Kamala Khan, a sixteen-year-old
girl living and going to high school in Jersey City. With an older brother, focused on his
religious studies, and parents who are devout Muslims that only wish to protect
their children from the loose mores of America, Kamala finds herself in an
endless struggle to please her parents while also wishing to fit in and
experience life as a teenager with her friends and classmates. This internal struggle, above all else, is
what defines this new series, and it works wonderfully. While personally interested in the
specificity of this family and their Muslim traditions, all of which feels
natural and genuine in a manner unreached in other books with similar
scenarios, it was the universality of these relationships that I admired
most. Teenagers are always in conflict
with their parents, in one degree or another, and, despite the distinct
background of Kamala, I can easily imagine teenagers and other readers being
able to relate to her “civilian” story.
And, in that way, this series hearkens back to Marvel’s signature hero,
Spider-Man, in its dichotomy between the hero and the person.
Which is not to say there isn’t drama or action in this
series. There is. Kamala, overcome by a strange fog as she
wanders away from her classmates’ party, discovers she now has shape-shifting
abilities – she can grow to twice her size, increase the girth of her fist,
change how she looks, shrink down to the size of a cockroach – and she is
freaked out. But, in the meantime, one
of her classmates, drunk and trying to fight off her boyfriend, falls into the
lake. Kamala, in the form of the
original, blond Ms. Marvel, pulls her from the water and saves her life. But she must run off before changing back to
herself – because she hasn’t yet fully digested what has happened to her, nor
is she yet able to control her powers.
And, once she returns home, sneaking back in her bedroom window, Kamala
is discovered by her parents and grounded.
It even feels like something out
of an old Spider-Man comic!
From here, Kamala must learn how to control her powers while
she decides what to do with them. She
quickly comes to the idea that she must use her abilities to help people in
their neighborhood. Which spurs her to
try and stop a robbery at the local quickie mart, the Circle Q, where her best
friend, Bruno, works. This does not end
well for Kamala, as a gunshot rings out on the final page of that particular
issue – that page, and those leading up to it, are a master class of dramatic
writing, building tension, sidestepping the danger, only to have it rear its head
in a way that is both surprising and inevitable, truly impressive work
there. The way Wilson writes Kamala out
of this corner is equally impressive, and from here we watch as she learns not
only to accept her own identity as a hero (eventually switching from morphing
into the idealized, blond iteration of Ms. Marvel to helping others as herself,
but with a costume more in line with a typical teenage girl), but also learns
how to be a hero. It’s like fusing on
Bruce Wayne’s education in “Year One” with the previously mentioned Spider-Man
foundation, and it works incredibly well.
Wilson infuses the stories with humor and drama, creating stories that
engage and entertain in equal measure.
This is one of the best new superhero books I’ve read in a long time.
And equal billing must go to the artist, Adrian
Alphona. His art feels like it would be
more comfortable in a Top Shelf book rather than a Marvel book, but it works
well with the story being told by Wilson.
Cartoony without feeling slapstick, he grafts a manga-esque feel onto
the art without turning toward the expected tropes of that medium. There are moments where figures have more
cartoonish faces, dependent upon the scene, and there is a flow and ease to the
body language that is commendable. Nothing
feels stiff under Alphona’s pen, and it heightens the truthfulness of the
story, lending a naturalness to the images that, I feel, allows readers to
better relate to the story. Sometimes,
when an artist has a very rigid, very precise style, it can be off-putting, a
glaring reminder that what you’re reading is a proximity of what’s outside your
world, but a far more strict representation, which, for me, can pull me right
out of the narrative. Alphona hits just
the right balance, infusing the action scenes with energy and dynamism, while
offsetting “civilian” scenes with a laid back feeling. And, just for bonus points, there are
numerous jokes hidden in the background – on cereal boxes (GM-Os) or store
signs or book covers – that only add to the enjoyment of this book.
If you haven’t already, you should definitely read Ms.
Marvel: No Normal. It’s fun and full
of drama – a classic comic book series told with a contemporary sensibility –
and it is well worth your time.
-chris
No comments:
Post a Comment