Yay! I get to do a shopping list that has a healthy dose of “please buy this book because if you don’t they’ll cancel it and I’ll cry” thrown in the mix:

Fallen Angel #14 starts a new story arc after two stand-alone issues. This would be a good time to jump on, I’m guessing. From everything I’ve heard, DC has no idea how to market this interesting title (or much desire). That’s too bad, as it’s got a lot going for it. My favorite aspect, I think, is the sense of place that Peter David gives his fictional setting.

She-Hulk #6 arrives with a prison full of deadly, shrunken super-villains! (I think.) Deadly, shrunken super-villains, people! Buy it! It’s fun! Can’t you tell from all the exclamation points?! (Or do they just look desperate?)

Those are the on-the-cusp books I pick up, but I also note that there are some other “praised to the skies/selling in the dumps” titles on deck that you might take a look at: Fraction #5, Plastic Man #9, and Touch #5.

Other things I’m eagerly anticipating:

Astro City Special
Birds of Prey #72
Ex Machina #3

Hm… guess that’s it. It’s not everything I’ll be buying, but it’s everything I’m excited about. I’m on the fence about DC’s new Manhunter title. I can’t get worked up over Supreme Power #12 after the glacially paced tit-fest that was #11 (a feeling that’s spilled over into the Doctor Spectrum spin-off).

Maybe there’ll be some fun manga out. I could use something mindless and gleeful.

Planetes Vol. 2 is automatically at something of a disadvantage. Vol. 1 was one of the most terrific things I’ve ever read, and I think it’s natural to wonder if subsequent chapters can hold up.

Vol. 2 almost manages it. It’s still the most thoughtful, humane science fiction I’ve ever seen. It’s still stunningly rendered by creator Makoto Yukimura. Yukimura still writes stories with elegance and depth.

But there’s something here that doesn’t work, specifically the character of Tanabe, a new recruit to the crew of interstellar garbage haulers.

Let me explain where I’m coming from. I think, in general, Yukimura has a tremendous facility with characterization. With a minimum of exposition, readers can learn a great deal about the cast of Planetes – their ambitions, their philosophies, their backgrounds, what drives them or holds them back.

Take the example of Hachimaki’s irascible father, Goro, a legendary pilot. It only takes a few short, comic sketches to delineate his nature, circumstances, and belief system. Then, there’s Dr. Locksmith, the driving force behind the pending mission to Jupiter. His chilling response to a lethal accident paints a surprisingly layered picture of a complex and powerful figure. Or Hakimu, one of Hachimaki’s rivals for a spot on the crew of the Jupiter mission, who makes an immediate and mysterious impression.

Then, there’s Tanabe. We know little of her background prior to joining the garbage crew, though there’s no difficulty in picking up on her belief system, because she espouses it constantly. The problem, as I see it, is that we don’t know how her perspective evolved or what past circumstances made her who she is. Without that foundation, she’s little more than a Jiminy Cricket, offering unsolicited moral advice to Hachimaki. She’s more of a mouthpiece than a character.

That’s a problem, because she’s central to the driving character arc of the volume. Hachimaki, in pursuing a spot on the Jupiter mission, is becoming increasingly harsh, almost ruthless. Yukimura paints Hachimaki’s ambition as being at war with his humanity, and it’s a fascinating internal conflict.

Tanabe is on humanity’s side, arguing strenuously in favor of love and compassion. She isn’t wrong, but she barely knows Hachimaki to be able to judge him, and readers barely know her. Consequently, the arguments seem hollow. Tanabe could just as easily be reading her spiel from a self-help manual, and it’s easy to identify with Hachimaki’s annoyance. And with other characters presenting different sides of the argument much more organically, Tanabe often seems superfluous.

Still, the evolution of Hachimaki’s world view is fascinating to watch. It’s shaped alternately by events, observation, and interaction with the people around him. In the process, Yukimura creates a fascinating palate of coexisting philosophies. Why do people go into space? Why do they risk their lives? Why do they decide to come back? The answers are all deeply personal, making for rich storytelling.

Another wonderful aspect of Planetes is the scale of its science fiction. It doesn’t demand a great deal of suspension of disbelief from its readers, choosing instead to logically extrapolate human progress into outer space from where we are now. It’s easy enough to imagine space exploration reaching this point some 70 years in the future. That level of believability allows the manga to focus on character, which is almost always its greatest strength.

Wow! So, is Marvel willing to let anything be a surprise any more? First, they let most of Avengers 500 be posted on the web almost a month before publication. Now, they’ve released the cover of New Avengers 1, giving away most of the line-up.

Spoilers ho!

Bendis certainly wasn’t kidding when he said that he isn’t JLA-ing the Avengers. In fact, it seems to have gone from “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes” to “Bendis’s Favorite Heroes… Plus Some Guys We Had To Put In To Keep Their Solo Titles Afloat… Plus Sentry.”

Cap and Iron Man aside, the choices are either promising or bizarre, depending on what Bendis intends to do in terms of the guiding principles he establishes for the series. (Obviously, the old tone and modus operandi are out the window, or Vision wouldn’t be puking up villains.) And since I can’t resist the cry of the inner fanboy, let’s take a look at what we’ve got here.

Spider-Woman: The Jessica Drew Spider-Woman, no less, who happens to be my favorite of the arachnettes. (I never read Byrne’s short-lived book about the third in the line, but I’m fairly sure I would have hated her.) Jessica’s got a rather strange history with the team. She kind of hates them (on behalf of close friend Carol Danvers, though Carol got over it) and dismissed them “frat boys” in an issue of Alias, but they’ve saved her life and offered her membership in the past. Just judging by the cover, shiny optimism isn’t the defining tone of the book, so she’ll probably fit in fairly well. Hope she doesn’t end up being “the girl,” though.

Luke Cage: Hm. The guy who found the Defenders too confining is joining the Avengers? And he’s always seemed fairly resistant to conventional super-heroics. (Again, it’s possible that the set-up will be much different and looser under Bendis.) Still, I like Luke a lot, and I generally like the way Bendis writes him. His presence should make for some fairly interesting character dynamics.

Spider-Man: Sorry about the echo, but set-up will determine whether he works or not. He’s left the group in the past, finding them too high-profile and demanding, but it’s entirely possible those conditions will change. Still, there’s some disconnect between my perception of hard-luck Spidey and what I think of as the shiny, sanctioned Avengers. We’ll see. As with Cage, I like Bendis’s take on Spidey well enough.

Sentry: I skipped the mini-series that introduced the character in 2000, so I’m not quite sure how to react. I was always under the impression, though, that the character was intended to function as an allegory more than any kind of ongoing addition to the Marvel Universe. Any opinions on the mini? Is it worth a look? (Just on its own merits; I’m not seriously thinking about doing homework reading for New Avengers, so put down your butterfly nets.)

Wolverine: “I always knew this day would come, and now that it’s here, I feel strangely… serene.” Quinn Morgendorffer.

Okay, not really, but life isn’t all manga reviews and unsuccessful satire.

I’ve confessed the love for Cartoon Network in the past, and those manipulative fiends keep reinforcing their stranglehold on my viewing habits. This time, they’ve done it with Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, more animated gold from Craig McCracken. (McCracken has already given the world The Powerpuff Girls after honing his craft on Dexter’s Laboratory.) Since I’m feeling lazy, I’ll just throw out a “what they said” to the reviews at the Hollywood Reporter and the New York Times. I will add that I’m totally smitten with Eduardo, the hopelessly insecure imaginary friend who looks like a refugee from a Maurice Sendak book. (Now, if CN would only revive Time Squad, I’d know their love is true.)

Come to think of it, Foster’s would adapt almost effortlessly into a terrific manga, if DC was looking for an all-ages entry for its CMX line. Actually, a lot of the CN line-up would translate well, and I’m guessing it might sell better than the licensed comics that come out currently. I could be wrong, though.

It’s Tuesday, so that must mean it’s time for another episode of The Amazing Race, the best reality show ever. If the contestants aren’t as interesting as they have been in past seasons, the locations make up for it (the Pyramids and St. Petersburg being two highlights so far). What really makes this show, though, is the editing. The crews assigned to each team of contestants never miss a critical moment (something Survivor could maybe try), and the editors do truly spectacular work with what must be hundreds of hours of footage per episode. A great way to catch up with the season so far is to check the recaps at Television Without Pity.

But enough TV talk. Must start writing manga reviews.

Um… This is embarrassing, but just to clarify… the previous posting contains sarcasm.

Disliking Identity Crisis is a tricky business, so I thought I would outline some misconceptions common among the book’s detractors. We can work through this misguided thinking together.

1. You find the events of IC misogynist: Just because the book routinely features acts of brutality directed at women doesn’t mean that it’s misogynist. It just means that vulnerable supporting characters are predominantly female. And where’s the misogyny in that? Stop being so politically correct. This line of argument leads inexorably to the unfortunate conclusion that…
2. You find the writer of IC misogynist: You might have thought you were focusing on the events of the title in question, but, really, let’s be honest with ourselves. Can you really separate the events of one piece of work from their creator, even if you’ve never read any of his other writing? Especially if you’ve never read any of his other writing? How can you possibly draw that conclusion about the writer if you haven’t read everything he’s ever written? This takes us to the fact that…
3. Brad Meltzer is a real writer: He’s written real books, not just comics. You can’t possibly evaluate his work based on the standards of the comic book medium. To do so would be to suggest that there’s just as much artistic merit in comics as there is in prose, and the New York Times doesn’t keep track of best-selling comics, now does it? And, since we’ve established that Brad Meltzer is a real writer, how can you possibly think that…
4. There are holes in the narrative, and the storytelling is badly constructed: Point three should address this, but if it hasn’t, let’s just expand on it a bit. Not only is Brad Meltzer a real writer, he’s a real writer who sells a lot of books. This is proven by the fact that his books – not comics – have been included in the New York Times Best-Seller List. Surely there’s no room in a listing of financially successful works of fiction for flawed storytelling, just like there’s no room in a listing of numerically successful works of non-fiction for flawed ideology or scholarship. That you found holes and flaws in the storytelling at all suggests that…
5. You’re trying to judge the comic based on individual chapters: Obviously, this is madness. Sure, DC is publishing IC in a monthly format, but that doesn’t entitle you to evaluate it on a chapter-by-chapter basis. The release schedule might lend itself to that and suggest that each individual chapter should be artistically successful in its own right, but doesn’t fairness demand that you purchase each and every issue before you judge? Even if you find the individual chapters flawed and distasteful? Be reasonable. Spend $4 a month, just in case it might make sense later. It’s the least you can do. Then, after you’ve shelled out $30, you can say how much you hate it. You’ll still be wrong, but you won’t be hamstrung in this manner.
6. IC is tonally inconsistent with its characters and fictional universe: Whoa, my fanboy alarm just went off! Sure, IC may heavily reference Silver Age stories and characters, but you can’t actually judge it in that context. The context is only a launching point for the real writer to go where he pleases, despite decades of expectations established by writers who, it must be stated, only write comics.
7. But I’m not a fanboy! I’m just working with the rules DC has established over decades of storytelling: This is just like when John Kerry resists being designated a liberal. Your voting record is there for everyone to see, and your denials only weaken your case. Sorry. (Snicker.) Fanboy.
8. Sue Dibny was a unique character who deserved a better fate: Nobody cares about what happens to Elongated Man’s wife. But – Nobody cares. I – Nobody cares about Woozy Winks, either. Next you’ll be saying that…
9. You find it difficult to believe these characters would behave in the ways the writer is suggesting: Capital “FAN”… lower-case “boy.” It’s the only explanation why you wouldn’t abandon decades of established characterization to embrace Meltzer’s bold and challenging vision. Which leads to the final point…
10. IC is contradicting my expectations of the DC Universe: Is it “contradicting your expectations” or is it “challenging your preconceptions”? Isn’t IC really shaking you out of your safe little fanboy torpor, and leading you into dangerous new philosophical territory? Maybe you don’t like IC because you’re not brave enough to like it. And isn’t that just a little sad?

With that said, you can still put forward negative opinions about IC. Here, for your convenience, is a sample critique for those of you who just can’t help finding fault:

“Boy, those Michael Turner covers sure suck!”

Hope this has helped.

I can certainly understand the position of those who have declared a blogatorium on Identity Crisis, but I’m weak. Sue me. The third issue is out, and now shall the Internet run with blood!

The 4th Rail‘s Don MacPherson is still on board, but the title has been demoted to the Quick Critiques section. Randy Lander didn’t review the book this week, which isn’t surprising. (He gave the second issue a 1 out of 10.)

Brian Hibbs has an wonderfully succinct review of the issue over at the Savage Critic. And, in true IC fashion, he couldn’t post it without paying a terrible price.

The posters at Newsarama are tearing into the issue with vigor. (And by “tearing into,” I don’t mean to imply any unanimity of critical opinion. Much of the chatter focuses on battle logistics as opposed to death, gender, and the inchoate nature of “good.”)

At the DC Comics Message Boards, my favorite thread title would have to be this. The boards also seem plagued by a poster who puts spoilers in thread titles in hopes of keeping people from buying the book. Beyond being ineffective, the tactic strikes me as pretty juvenile. I mean, hate IC all you want, but at least be civil about it.

It’s July all over again on Usenet. (Well, there is a rather startling Biblical analogy that I’m not sure I entirely understand.) There’s love, there’s hate, there’s ambivalence, there’s parsing, there’s spec… come for the furor. Stay for George Grattan.

It’s probably unfair, but I can’t evaluate Clamp School Detectives for what it is without thinking about what it could be.

The manga, by the Clamp studio, is sort of a cross between Richie Rich and Charlie’s Angels. Three comically perfect male students at the prestigious Clamp School dabble in detective work, dedicating themselves to “damsels in distress.” (No, it isn’t a period piece.)

Their ringleader is wealthy, brilliant, dandyish Nokoru Imonoyama, a sixth-grader with a sixth sense for women in peril. Noroku, chair of Clamp’s elementary division (the equivalent of student body president), is joined by secretary Suoh Takamura, a serious and responsible martial arts expert, and treasurer Akira Ijyuin, guilelessly charming and unwaveringly loyal to his senior officers.

They’re at the top of a school meritocracy, which is fine, because they’re all gifted and basically decent, and their intentions are good. But their perfection – generally idealized students each with his own set of unique talents – is presented without any counterbalancing foibles. If the Clamp creative team would ever take the air out of their heroes, things might be a bit more interesting.

Predictably, female students at the school are presented as little more than a ravening group of devoted fans. As one of the detectives’ largely anonymous admirers says, “You couldn’t even find guys that perfect in shojo manga!” It’s one of the moments when things seem to be heading towards satire, as is a caption, “They’re feminists. Who’d have guessed?” But the satire never develops any teeth.

Take, for example, the feminist joke. They aren’t so much feminist as they are chivalrous, and while those two qualities aren’t mutually exclusive, they aren’t synonymous, either. The detectives don’t really want to empower women so much as protect them, a state of mind that’s portrayed without a trace of irony. (And the trio doesn’t express any romantic interest in their admirers; the throng is pretty much viewed as a flattering inconvenience.)

Then there are the clients, a fairly sketchily developed group of stereotypes. There’s the old lady clinging to her memories who has to be protected from any harsh realities. There’s the benevolent but mysterious school administrator who needs to be spared embarrassment. Chapter three offers the sad, beautiful schoolgirl who has lost her pet and cries in the school gardens instead of doing anything constructive, like looking for it.

Even when you think Clamp might be offering something different, things snap back into formula. In the fourth chapter, readers finally run across a Clamp schoolgirl who doesn’t squeal with glee at the sight of the detectives. If you think this might be the introduction of a smart female foil for the protagonists, or a rival to give them some perspective, think again. Her hostility is a mask for something much blander.

The first time I read through this manga, it seemed like glossy good fun. I guess it is, provided you keep your expectations fairly low. The illustrations are beautiful, and the stories are weightless but well-constructed. But every time Clamp steps towards something more complex, something with comic bite, they take two quick steps backwards. It’s somehow more frustrating than if the series didn’t have anything on its mind at all.

Maybe I’m over-analyzing things, or I’m just unfamiliar with the Clamp house style. Anyone have any insights or contradictory impressions that might help me pin down my thinking?

There isn’t a ton of stuff that really lights my fire this week, but there is some good stuff coming out this week.

• Avengers Thunderbolts #6 (which, hopefully, will be a bit less chatty than #5)
• District X #4 (don’t let the presence of D-grade X-Man Bishop deter you)
• Emma Frost #14
• Fables #28
• Gotham Central #22

Hopefully, my copy of Runaways #18 will have shown up, too.

Powers #3 arrives. Is this book coming out with unusual frequency, or am I just getting tired of it?

While I won’t be buying Identity Crisis #3, I’m looking forward to the renewed flurry of analysis. (“Tastes great! Less filling!”) As others have said, the conversations about this title are more interesting than the title itself.

My 10-foot pole is in the shop, so there will be no X-Force #1 for me. I guess I’ll just have to get my fill of man-boobs and ponytails elsewhere.

Does anyone know where I can find an on-line listing of upcoming manga releases? My shop owner is sick of the sad little sigh I make when I look at the spot where I think a new volume of Sgt. Frog should be.

Creators have been making some vigorous efforts to promote their critically admired but low-selling titles. Peter David is trying his best to spread the word about FALLEN ANGEL, and Ed Brubaker is working hard to give SLEEPER a boost. It’s got me thinking about some of the books I liked but thought never got a fair shake in the marketplace.

Two of them in particular have resonance for the current state of both of the titles mentioned above. YOUNG HEROES IN LOVE and CHASE both stepped outside genre boundaries. YHIL was primarily a soap opera about superheroes, like NOBLE CAUSES but more tongue-in-cheek. CHASE had kind of an X-FILES feel, focusing on an investigator who monitored super-beings for a government agency. Both got reasonably good reviews, and neither made it much past a dozen issues.

I loved Gail Simone’s work on AGENT X, and I dropped it when Marvel revamped it with a new creative team. Happily, they ended the book’s run with a six-issue arc by the original creative team. Unhappily, it still ended.

There are two other titles by Peter David that fall into the “gosh, I miss that book” category. YOUNG JUSTICE got swept aside for the new TEEN TITANS and OUTSIDERS titles, as did the TITANS series at the time. Admittedly, TITANS was pretty weak, but YJ seemed to be plugging along just fine. To my thinking, it was a much better book about adolescent heroes than the frequently gruesome TT. (OUTSIDERS is preferable to TITANS, but any book that doesn’t feature a half-dozen “cute” kids to the exclusion of the title characters has an unfair advantage.)

From Marvel, there’s David’s CAPTAIN MARVEL. This is a more complicated case for me. I loved it prior to the re-launch, and I even liked the new take on the title for a while. But the “crazy Genis” story stretched out long past its expiration date. Still, it seemed to be moving back towards a direction and tone I liked.

I liked a lot of DC’s MARTIAN MANHUNTER ongoing, particularly the moody art by Tom Mandrake. Writer John Ostrander had a lot of interesting story ideas and didn’t confine himself to any particular genres. He mixed character studies, detective stories, and more traditional super-hero action in an effective way.

Did I have a point here? Other than, “Comics I like shouldn’t be cancelled?” Or am I just wallowing in nostalgia?