CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS, No. 7 (Wolfman / Pérez, Ordway, Giordano; DC, 1985)

Every Wednesday morning, I make a blind pull from Siri's (randomized) choice of one of the 20 alphabetically-organized shortboxes that constitute my comics collection, (re-)read it, write about it, and publish whatever emerges. Earlier installments live here.

(Box06): Pleasant surprise, this one: a chance to revisit a single issue of something I'd read only in trade and rather recently at that. And, while my hope that I could read CRISIS as more than "a gorgeously illustrated historical document with too many one-note action figures" remains elusive, I did, nonetheless, sense a humanity missing in most of the rest of the series (a portent of a shift in storytelling priorities in the post-CRISIS world?): the iconic cover, of Superman holding Supergirl's lifeless body still packs a punch; I can only imagine the impact seeing that had on the reader as it stared back at them from the racks.

While he rightly receives plaudits for his rendering of spectacle and universe-shattering narrative turns, Pérez has a unique and unmatched ability to both illustrate said universe-shattering for our eyes and through the eyes and expressions of the characters experiencing it: he brings the anguish, the fear, and the rage to life, pouring it off of every page, especially in the issue's final, unforgettable pages. Similarly - and perhaps it's because I (re)read it out of context with the other eleven issues – I sensed a desperation on the part of the heroes that I didn't feel in other issues: maybe it was always there and my initial, overwhelmed and trade-paperbacked reading missed it or maybe this was the issue that it all, indeed, turned. Interesting that hundreds of worlds had died in issues previous but that it took one iconic death to hammer the stakes home.

Brings up a note: in my eventual re-read of CRISIS, I'm going to do it via single issues and not in trade. Want to see if this approach lends a different experience and makes me see what I was missing – the weight, the history-shattering stakes, the humanity – in my first go-round. If this issue is any indication, I have a feeling that it will.

SUPERMAN, Vol. 1, No. 423 + ACTION COMICS, Vol. 1, No. 583: "Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?" (Moore / Swan; DC, 1986)

Filing yet another under the "no I can't believe I didn't read this until now either" header because, not only is "Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow" now my favorite Superman story, but it's one of my favorite comics stories of all time, my ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST of comics.

Clark revealed as Superman by Curt Swan and George Pérez

In fashion not dissimilar to Leone's masterful deconstruction and exploration of the mythological Western, the pairing of Moore's words with Curt Swan's immortal and character-defining pencils is magic: a deconstruction of the hallowed and iconic by a mind matched by few wrapped in a rousing action story with deep emotional stakes; a distillation of, at that point, nearly 50 years of monthly storytelling that not only showed why Superman has endured, but why he must: it's the first work anyone tasked with carrying on that legacy – be it in comics or in film or in any other media – should read; I can only hope that Gunn uses this as a guide – fortunately, from what he's said of what's coming in LEGACY, it sounds like he has. Certainly nailed the casting so far.

Other than Morrison and Quitely's ALL-STAR SUPERMAN (now my second-favorite Superman story and apparently one of Gunn's guiding texts), I can't think of another take that so deeply captures every facet of the character – the hope, the action, the sacrifice, the tragedy – in such a powerful, poignant, and emotionally satisfying way. Essential.

CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS (Wolfman/Pérez, 1985)

Long on my to-read list (decades, at this point), I finally finished CRISIS last night and remain perplexed – not necessarily by the story, but by my feelings towards it. Initial reaction: a gorgeously illustrated (what a talent, what a loss) historical document with too many one-note action figures (as was DC's wont back then; they were, if nothing else, devoted to the archetypal/mythological portrayal of their stable) whose impact is still being felt, for better or for worse – and will continue to be felt with every uni/multiversal company-wide crossover in any medium from now until the end of time – and was, judging by my complete sense of indifference to the fate of numerous (hundreds, according to the annotations / backmatter) characters and heroes, required to breathe new life into the DC Universe. It was – and remains – DC's only reboot of necessity.

My reading of CRISIS also demonstrated not only its likely narrative impact on the readers of its time but the seismic shift heralded by the arrival, not even a year later, of Moore's WATCHMEN and Miller's DARK KNIGHT RETURNS and YEAR ONE – come to think of it, I'd recommend anyone wanting to get a good grasp of '85-'86 in comics to read all three of these. Would prove illuminating.

Still, though, I wish I could read it as more than a historical document. Maybe next time.