To date, Grant Morrison and Liam Sharp’s run on DC’s The Green Lantern has been a lot of fun. Billed from the start as a space police procedural, its initial six issue arc has been suffused with the kind of sharpness, creativity, cleverness and borderline silliness that can justly be described as quintessential Morrison. In the hands of a lesser artist, this approach might have ended up more confusing and silly than clever and sharp, but Liam Sharp’s art is uniquely suited to the demands of Morrison’s scripts. The fecundity of his imagination and his consummate skill as an artist are on display in boldly-crafted layouts, jaw-dropping alien vistas and bold alien designs that, despite their strangeness, never lose their sense of physical presence.
Issue 7, however, is a whole other level of storytelling.
An end of year review. Sort of…
Of the ‘big three’ DC superheroes, Wonder Woman’s origin is by far the most fluid, contentious and contradictory. Whereas Batman’s and Superman’s are both more or less set in stone and well known to even the most casual of comic reader, Wonder Woman’s is, it seems, perennially up for grabs, a prime target for the whims and agendas of a host of writers. So, when fan favourite Greg Rucka returns to the book after two (although for very different reasons) controversial New 52 runs from Brian Azzarello and Meredith Finch, is it too much to ask that he leaves the whole notion of Wonder Woman’s backstory alone?
What do you think?
The issue starts by highlighting the two main contradictory versions of Wonder Woman’s origin. Either she is made of clay – a gift of the gods to Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, given life by supernatural forces – or the result of a union between Hippolyta and a disguised Zeus and, in that sense, no different from any of the other many demi-gods of Greek mythology. The first origin reflects the Judaeo-Christian creation story and highlights how much Diana was wanted by her mother; the second is arguably rooted in deception and lust, and emphasises Diana’s heroic status, putting her on a par with Heracles, Perseus and a host of other heroes who claim Zeus’ paternity. The more perceptive of you will have noticed that I’m more a fan of the first origin, but I should point out that what I’ve read of the Azzarello run (about 20 issues) I’ve enjoyed immensely. Having made his choice about Diana’s origin, Azzarello explores it to its full potential, crafting a very entertaining set of stories out of the resulting collision of the world of 21st century (post)modernity and the world of ancient gods.
It’s clear, however, that Rucka has his own ideas about which origin should be favoured; arguably the very fact that he’s even asking the question in the first place indicates that he’s not especially enamoured of the New 52 run. Instead of resolving this fundamental contradiction immediately, however, Rucka chooses to make it the subject of his narrative. He has Wonder Woman question herself, question her memories, her origin, her past and her heritage. She questions how she is perceived by “man’s world” (a phrase that is problematic in its own right) and this culminates in her submitting herself to her own lasso of truth test in which she articulates what her subconscious had been telling her all this time. “You have been deceived.” This comes just after she has taken the ‘helmet of the God of War’ and crushed it in her hands, symbolically devaluing the Finch run in the process. While no one will shed too many tears about that, it is nevertheless a disconcerting moment, not only for Wonder Woman, but also for the reader. The question of just how much of what went on in the New 52 run is going to survive into this is raised and it seems the answer might well be “Not an awful lot.”
This section ends with Diana punching a mirror in a rather impressive (almost) double page spread, each shard reflecting a moment that has been called into question. These include the relationship with Superman (which I really won’t miss), a battle with the Cheetah, the JL fighting parademons and Diana cradling her mother in her arms. There then follows a page in which Diana questions where her story “went wrong” (a loaded question for any storyteller working in a shared universe to have a character ask, particularly when said storyteller has written the character before) and decides to ‘retrace her steps’ to find out. As she does so, she divests herself of key items of her costume – the tiara and the WW choker, both of which are associated closely with the New 52 run. She turns her attention back to the battered helmet of the god of war and…
Up until this point, we’ve been enjoying artwork from Matthew Clark and Sean Parsons and very nice it’s been, too. The lines have been light and clean and Wonder Woman herself has looked pretty impressive and dynamic. Now, we are treated to six pages from Liam Sharp who will be one of the regular artists on the book. The lines become heavier; the colouring darker. Her armour becomes more detailed. There is a muted sombre quality to the art now and it is gorgeous. Wonder Woman doesn’t waste any time and travels to Olympus using the battered helmet as a focus. What greets her there is an autumnal world of faded elegance and stately ruin. The sky is a sumptuous wine-red, and buildings and statues are wreathed in ancient vines. More worryingly for Diana, the gods are entirely absent. Only the statues remain who turn out to be mindless automatons left by Hephaestus to protect this faded Olympus. Wonder Woman dispatches them in a handful of stylish, beautifully rendered panels and is left with the conclusion that “this lie” is “afraid” of her and this is “not Olympus”. All very portentous. All very dramatic. All very vague.
As befits a Rebirth issue, the reader is left with plenty of questions. Where have the real gods gone? Who is powerful enough to erect a fake Olympus in place of the real one? Who is responsible for the deception that has been worked on Diana? Exactly what is true and what is false? How will this affect Diana going forward?
It’s too early for answers, but what we do know is that Rucka is confident enough in what he’s doing to play a long game and I suspect there’ll be many more questions before we start getting answers. Some would perhaps argue that the entire issue is simply an exercise in professional discourtesy. I’m not convinced myself. Personally, I’d contend that, as a writer whose first run on the book was both critically and commercially successful, Rucka’s earned the right to engage in a bit of revisionism. Whether he’s wise to do so remains to be seen. There’s enough here, however, to intrigue and impress this reader at least.
As Rebirth issues go, then, this is not bad at all. Even when he’s being elliptical, Rucka’s writing is very good (the line about the “first casualty of war” being the truth is nicely played). The artwork of both Clark and Sharp is also good, with Sharp’s being, at times, breathtakingly beautiful. I do have reservations, though. I care about the character of Wonder Woman a great deal and do worry that, if the book gets bogged down in a series of character ‘corrections’, the opportunity for Wonder Woman to reassert herself as a powerful superhero in her own right might be lost. I don’t especially want to see Diana constantly conflicted and unsure of her own identity. I want to see her saving the world, fighting evil and injustice, and generally being awesome. Hopefully that’s where Rucka is taking us. Time, as always, will tell…