Superman: Birthright by Mark Waid

Reviewed by Ambrea

Superman fights for truth and justice—but why?  What drives a farmboy from Kansas to become one of the mightiest superheroes in the world?  In Superman:  Birthright, Mark Waid and company attempt to answer that question by telling the origin story of the Man of Steel in an all new way, drawing together pieces of his fabled history and brand-new stories that shine a different light on Clark Kent, Lex Luthor, Lana Lang, and others.

When I see a comic book with Mark Waid listed as one of the writers, I automatically pick it up and check it out.  I instinctively know his work will be great—I mean, he wrote my favorite arc of Daredevil, Kingdom Come, the new Archie comics, Irredeemable and Incorruptible.  He has yet to disappoint me—and, truthfully, Superman:  Birthright lived up to my expectations.

Although I found it a bit surreal to dive into Superman’s past, as I’ve mostly read comics about his career as the world’s greatest superhero, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed the story.  In Birthright, Waid introduces the idea that Lex Luthor and Clark go way back—and I mean way back—and further tangles their lives, creating an incredibly complex relationship that goes beyond the good versus evil, hero versus villain dynamic.

Moreover, Waid touches upon the idea that Superman is not, in fact, perfect or infallible.  In so many comics, Superman is like the golden boy of superheroes—he can do no wrong, he always does the right thing, and he never messes up or loses.  In Birthright, Superman doesn’t just come onto the scene and gain immediate acceptance.  People don’t trust him; they have reservations and they ask questions, like “Who is this guy?  Why is he here?  What does he want?”  There’s a lot of distrust toward him, especially after Lex gets his hands on pieces of Kryptonian technology.

I loved that Waid and company added so many layers to Clark’s character.  Superman has been labeled a Boy Scout for much of his career, so I loved seeing different sides of his personality.  I liked seeing him as a person, not a caricature.  He can be hurt—not physically, of course, but emotionally.  He has been shaped by his experiences (not all of them good) and yet he still chooses to do good, he chooses to be good.

I really liked that about him.

I was also intrigued by how Waid fleshed out his powers.  Oh, he has all the same ones that everyone knows:  he can run faster than a speeding bullet, he can leap tall buildings in a single bound, he can fly, and he can’t be harmed by any conventional weapon.  He’s exactly the same superhero everyone knows and loves, but he has the added benefit of being able to see life.  I don’t mean recognize it and/or treasure it; I mean, he can literally detect the life force within a person—and he can see it leak away when they die.

Superman’s vow to protect people takes on a whole new meaning when you realize he’s a witness to life and death in this way.  He can see the exact moment someone or something dies.  He sees a void where something bright and beautiful had once been, and he can’t bear the thought of seeing it happen when he knows he can do something about it.  It gives his promises a lot more meaning, in my opinion, and it makes more sense as to why he pushes himself to protect people even when they don’t believe in him—even when the easier course would be just to give up.

Overall, I loved Superman:  Birthright.  I can honestly say it is my favorite Superman comic of all time.  Don’t get me wrong, I still love Red Son by Mark Millar, which has held top spot in my heart when it comes to Superman comics, and I really enjoyed American Alien by Max Landis; however, Birthright feels special and it resonates in a different way.  It humanizes Superman, makes him a superhero that readers can really understand and enjoy.

Superman: Red Son by Mark Millar

Reviewed by Ambrea

What would happen if Superman never crash-landed on a small farm in Kansas?  What if he never met the Kent family or Lois Lane, but met Stalin instead?  When Superman’s space ship lands on a Soviet collective farm in Ukraine, he’s raised on a steady diet of socialist ideals and Soviet propaganda, growing up to “[fight] a never-ending battle for Stalin, socialism, and the international expansion of the Warsaw Pact.”  His superpowers, however, make a very different impression on the world as he tries to do the right thing—and Lex Luthor becomes a very different kind of villain.

Superman:  Red Son by Mark Millar is a unique twist on the Superman mythos.  Although it includes many of the familiar qualities I recognize from other Superman stories—such as the indomitable Lois Lane, the obsessively vengeful Batman, the villainous Lex Luthor, the heroic Wonder Woman, the Superman who just wants to save the world—it takes all these things and shakes them up, creating a complex and engrossing graphic novel.  Moreover, it has an exceptional plot that takes twists and turns within the DC Universe that I never expected (here’s looking at you, Russian anarchistic Batman), as well as excellent characters and incredible art.

I was particularly enchanted with the artwork:  Dave Johnson, Kilian Plunkett, and a host of other talented artists create a finely detailed, darkly beautiful comic that’s a pure pleasure to read.  The illustrators pull imagery straight from the 1950s Cold War, creating a world that’s sometimes cold and bleak but changes with the appearance of Superman.  The panels are often laden with reds and browns and grays, which can occasionally give the world a dismal appearance, but splashes of colors, like pink or green, have that much more of an impact.

I also liked having Superman as the narrator.  On the one hand, it humanizes his character, gives him a depth that’s hard to see when it’s just Superman zooming across the page and, in general, being his heroic self; on the other hand, it also allows readers to follow his progression from a young superhero under Stalin’s thumb to a leader in his own right.

Personally, I found it interesting to see how different he is from the Superman I know and yet how he remains the same in some ways.  He wants to protect human life, even if it’s to his detriment; however, it’s also interesting to see how obsessive he becomes—that is, how he becomes so bent on preserving the planet and keeping humankind safe that he’s willing to sacrifice free will and human thought to accomplish his goals.

Overall, Superman:  Red Son is a fascinating graphic novel that provides an alternate history for Superman and the DC Universe as a whole.  While I did find the conclusion to be slightly dissatisfying, I was intrigued by the ways in which Superman—and Lex Luthor—changed as they followed very different ideological paths and, more to the point, discovered their own reasons and ways of protecting humanity.

Last Night, A Superhero Saved My Life

Reviewed by Ambrea

Last Night, A Superhero Saved My Life is a book about a cultural obsession, specifically a collective adoration of superheroes and all manner of caped crusaders.  Liesa Mignongna, the editorial director at Simon Pulse, collected essays from some of the most prolific names in the writing community—including Neil Gaiman, Leigh Bardugo, Brad Meltzer, Jodi Picoult, and Joe R. Lansdale—and compiled them in a simultaneously heart-breaking and hilarious book about superheroes and why they matter.

I absolutely loved this book.  A collection of essays by today’s most popular novelists, journalists, and writers, Last Night, A Superhero Saved My Life is a wonderful study on superheroes and the lasting impact they’ve had on readers and culture.  I know that makes it sound a bit dull, especially given the colorful and sometimes flamboyant nature of superheroes, but it’s not.  It’s heart-wrenching and humorous and introspective and bursting with bright neon spandex colors.

It’s a great book that’s not beholden to any one style or story.  Last Night, A Superhero Saved My Life compiles the work from the best of today’s creative minds, drawing together exceptional stories, experiences, and illustrations to create a work equally poignant and funny.  It provokes an honest discussion about superheroes and their impact on gender, love, equality, relationships, and more.

Honestly, I loved these stories.  They were deeply personal and incredibly moving, beautiful for their candid commentary on the human experience—and how comic book superheroes helped to get them through the tough times, how comics helped to shape their lives.  There were a handful of essays that I absolutely adored:

·         “On the Hulk:  You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Angry” by Delilah S. Dawson

·         “Dented Hearts:  A Story of Iron Man” by Anthon Breznican

·         “Everything I Know About Love, I Learned from Gambit and Rogue” by Karina Cooper

·         “We Are Not Amazons” by Leigh Bardugo

·         “Superman:  One Rad Dude” by Jim Di Bartolo

·         “Swashbuckle My Heart:  An Ode to Nightcrawler” by Jenn Reese

But, if I had to pick just one, it would probably be “Dented Hearts” by Anthony Breznican.  It’s a tough choice, especially since I loved Leigh Bardugo’s essay for her frank discussion of the female body image and cultural expectations, and Jim Di Bartolo’s illustrated discourse on the importance and impact of Superman; however, I was entirely smitten with Breznican’s essay.

“Dented Hearts” was like a kick in the chest.  It took me by surprise, it broke my heart, and yet it’s probably one of the most memorable essays—if not the most memorable essay—I read.  It’s an honest depiction of grief and turmoil, love and happiness and sibling relationships; it’s a candid account of loss tinted with memory, affection, and a mutual love of superheroes.  I enjoyed his beautiful writing, his obvious affection for his wife, and his candid retelling of grief that pulled at my heart.

I loved it.  Tears and all.