Top Comics of 2017, Pt. 1: #16 - #25

Nearly a year ago to the day, Civil War II #8 came out with a pitiful whimper, eliciting mostly shrugs from fans and lackluster reviews online. At the time, Marvel must have thought, well, it’s a new year soon, we can regroup, and things can only get better from here.

Without going into detail about Marvel’s troubles, things did not get better. Things, in fact, got worse—much worse. So epicly worse that earlier today the Hollywood Reporter published a piece about how almost everything that could go wrong for Marvel in 2017 went for Marvel in 2017, like the House of Ideas was suddenly Jurassic Park, battling Ian Malcolm’s Chaos Theory.  

And my Top Comics of 2017 reflects this. A scant 3 of 25 spots on the list went to Marvel. By comparison, 10 went to DC and its various imprints, and 11 went to independent publishers, with Image unsurprisingly leading the way with 6 books. But this list is supposed to be celebrating the good! So, enough about problems. I’m sure much will continue to be Tweeted and blogged about Marvel’s ongoing struggles anyway. 

So, let’s get to the obsession that, if you’re anything like me, drives you to some storefront every Wednesday for a stack of floppy comics, a medium that blends of art and capitalism better and more directly than anything else this great nation of ours has conceived.

Here are 16 - 25 of the my top comics of 2017. Enjoy!

25. Infamous Iron Man by Brian Michael Bendis / Alex Maleev
I’ve said this on Twitter and been met with silence from my admittedly modest following, but one of the most interesting things about Brian Michael Bendis ending a nearly two-decade run at Marvel is that in 2017 Bendis quietly did great work for the publisher. Jessica Jones, Defenders, Spider-Man and Invincible Iron Man were all engaging, character-driven stories. Spider-Men II didn’t work for me, but the rest were A+, and none was better than Infamous Iron Man, 12 excellent issues that tackled ideas of public redemption and also featured Doctor Doom cleaning house.

24. Catalyst Prime by Lion Forge
I’ve dug Lion Forge’s Catalyst Prime books, an ambitious attempt at a new superhero universe. It doesn’t have iconic characters like Marvel or DC, obviously, and because of this, at times the stories can be fuzzy and dull. That’s just the cost of doing business in a world where there are really only 8 - 10 good superhero narratives. What Catalyst Prime does at its best is provide alternative takes on these narratives, positing questions like what if an alienated teen hero had a disability, or what if a suave rich guy hero got an unglamorous power rooted in mindscapes and introspection? Within this line, I like Superb and Astonisher the best, with Noble close behind. The art in Accell is strong and Summit is promising after only one issue.

23. Clean Room by Gail Simone / Jon Davis-Hunt & Walter Geovani
This book was so good for its entire run, but it seemed like nobody paid attention. I get that Vertigo had fallen on hard times, but Gail Simone is one of the best writers in the industry and Jon Davis-Hunt’s art is Frank Quitely-esque yet still wholly his own (Walter Geovani also did an admirable job when Davis-Hunt left for The Wild Storm). Anyway, since I feel like the only one who read this, I want to implore you now to please please please pick this up in trade, so we can get another volume of Clean Room at some point.

22. Grass Kings by Matt Kindt / Tyler Jenkins
Grass Kings is a beautiful and deliberate book, rich with Matt Kindt’s interest in the effects of malfeasance or neglect through time and Tyler Jenkins blurred, almost abstract watercolor artwork. It’s a book that feels real, from the things the characters do and say to the ideas about independence and transparency and the cost of preserving a larger community even if it means sacrificing safety of those inside. At least, that’s how I’ve read it so far anyway. This is a bit of a mystery book, the scope of which is yet to be made entirely clear.

21. Snotgirl by Bryan Lee O’Malley / Leslie Hung
There are few books as stylish or obsessively in the moment as Snotgirl, a tale of a vapid Instagram model in LA, who is only concerned with personal growth if that growth leads to a reduction in the severity of her super gross allergies. This book is a smart take on us as a social media generation, as well as a meditation on the personality disorders constant social media validation is likely creating.

20. Victor LaValle’s Destroyer by Victor LaValle / Dietrich Smith
Victor LaValle is one of my favorite literary writers, and, in fact, I may write a post early next year about how his novel The Changeling is a good choice for fans of modern suspense and horror comics. But that’s later. If you’ve already read the Changeling, I can tell you Destroyer’s plot has far more action and sci-fi, but it also has the themes of parenthood, being the other and technology that powered The Changeling, glossed with a layer of mythology culled from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Trust me, it works.

19. Super Sons by Peter Tomasi / Jorge Jimenez
Super Sons did an impressive job telling a story about new characters and a new situation (Batman and Superman mutually raising adolescent sons) while also creating a nostalgic, classic feel that so many fans enjoy, myself included. This book was filled with fresh stories that felt familiar, and although we’re only 11 issues in, the scripts by the criminally underrated Peter Tomasi made this book feel as if it had been around for years. I love all things Super Sons, and I hope this rumor about Brian Bendis taking over Superman doesn’t rock the boat (Bendis never seems to write just one book about a character, see Iron Man, see X-Men). And Jorge Jimenez's impossibly clean lines are a perfect fit.

18. Aquaman by Dan Abnett / Various
Dan Abnett’s Aquaman has been a great book since before DC Rebirth, depicting Arthur Curry as a global diplomat constantly juggling a desire to do the right thing for Earth, to placate the nationalistic populism of his people in Atlantis, and to soothe the fears and concerns of the equally nationalistic populist surface dwellers. This book, however, has really become something special now that *SPOILER* Abnett has taken Arthur off the throne and put him in Atlantis’ underworld, where he leads a timely resistance effort against the leader that schemed to replace him. Oh, and Stjepan Sejic dual work as artist and colorist since June has been something to behold. His aesthetic is a fantastic fit for the character.

17. Think Tank by Matt Hawkins / Rahsan Ekedal
Think Tank, now on its fifth volume since launching in 2012, was as sharp as ever, taking writer Matt Hawkins dense scientific research and insatiable curiosity about the military, and distilling it into stories about global dynamics, all while telling the personal story of Dr. David Loren. What I like so much about Think Tank is every arc essentially tells three stories at once: one about the protagonist’s personal life, one about technology, and one about global affairs. It never becomes unwieldy, which is a testament to Hawkins’ deft plotting and Rahsan Ekedal’s crisp art.

16. Extremity by Daniel Warren Johnson
Aside from the gorgeous artwork, strong family dynamics and earned big twists, one of the things that endeared Extremity to me was artist / writer Daniel Warren Johnson’s earnest back matter, in which he explained this story is about his greatest fear: losing his drawing hand. It’s a personal premise, and Johnson does a great job of weaving a rich sci-fi / fantasy around it.

SPECIAL NOTE: Tomorrow I'll be posting my Top Comics of 2017, Pt. 2: #6 - #15, and Sunday I'll be posting my Pt. 3: #1 - #5.

Top 5 Comics of November 2017

How about November? It was a great month for comics, so good I could probably get away with saying that this post is tardy because I spent weeks debating the order. And yes, while I did grapple with that, truth is my rankings are always late and I’ve just been busy. But, again, the idea behind this monthly piece is to maybe help with pull list decisions, rather than single issue purchases.

Anyway, without further adieu (wait, there was adieu?! Did I miss the adieu??!!), here is November’s list:

Honorable Mention: The Batman Who Laughs #1

The Batman Who Laughs is one of the year’s best Batman stories, and it isn't even the best Batman book this month (more on that later). This one spun out of DC's Metal event, which has been grandiose yet laden with sheer comic book goofiness, all transposed against a terrifying threat of alternate Bruce Waynes. This story lacks the goofiness (like in Metal how the Justice League piloted robots that unified to form a Voltron — I know!). This story is all darkness.

And it’s a story that expands a bit on an idea in The Killing Joke regarding the commonality between Batman and Joker, minus the one bad day idea (which, c’mon). It takes us to a dark Earth where *SPOILER* Batman kills Joker and is transformed by gas released upon his death into a hybrid of their two personas. There have been many stories about how Batman and Joker are similar, or different, or parts of the same coin, but this one shows us Joker’s volatility complimenting Batman’s capability and drive, creating something else that's utterly terrifying. Also, how about that title?

5. Mister Miracle #4

That Mister Miracle has appeared here twice and I’ve only been writing this for three months says a good deal about how much I like this comic. As I noted when it landed on my Top 5 Comics of September 2017, writer Tom King is inclined to play with form. This book does that by putting Mister Miracle (aka Scott Free) on trial in the living room of his schlubby apartment, then using spurious logic and rapid questioning to give us a window into the titular character’s mental state, which is tinged with depression and PTSD.

Free is tried by Orion, who took his place when the benevolent High Father swapped Scott with the malevolent Darkseid, hoping it would put their worlds at peace (Narrator: it didn’t). The tension, resentment, and differences between the characters is on full display as Orion grills Free within Mitch Gerads’ intricate nine-panel pages. I’m not the first to call this 12-issue series a modern classic in the making and certainly won’t be the last. In fact, I do it again in two months at this rate.

4. The Wild Storm #9

I’ve been a little baffled at the seemingly low profile writer Warren Ellis and artist Jon Davis-Hunt’s The Wild Storm has had during its excellent run. I’m either missing the buzz about this book, or too many people are disregarding it as a ‘90s throwback relaunch that relies purely on nostalgia. This is, however, far from being that. The Wild Storm stands easily on its own as a rich and compelling story.

What landed it on my list this month was Davis-Hunt’s artwork, particularly during the incredible feudal Japan fight sequence, among the best action storytelling I’ve seen in the medium all year. It was actually one of two fantastic action sequences this month, with David Marquez’s Elektra and Iron Fist battle in Defenders being the other. This one gets the nod because The Wild Storm has been stronger for longer, and I also feel like Davis-Hunt didn’t get enough credit for his fantastic pencils in Gail Simone’s highly-underrated Clean Room series, which recently concluded but is very much worth reading in trade.

3. Descender #26

There’s a tendency in shops and online to take Image’s many long-running super strong books for granted, books like Wicked + Divine, Saga, Sex Criminals, and even The Walking Dead. Descender is a prime example. The story has slowed a bit after its breakneck early issues to log a few backstory installments, but it’s really picked up in The Rise of The Robots arch, which concludes here.

Jeff Lemire’s books often make this list, in part because his work has so much nuance. There’s a literary quality to Lemire’s comic writing, in that characters and stories are layered with meaning (at least as I read them) and tend to land places that are unpredictable and so organic that truth rings through. This is even true of work he's done for the Big 2. Descender is no exception. It’s a slow-burn, and whatever the payoff ends up being, Lemire is doing the important work to earn it.

2. Doomsday Clock #1

Geoff Johns's comic work is rare these days, now that he’s guiding DC's larger direction across various media. Johns, however, is among the best superhero writers of all time, and he follows up here on his industry-shaking DC Rebirth one shot from last May. This is a huge deal, as it has promised to incorporate Watchmen characters into the DC universe proper. I think it's telling that a friend of mine who posts online maybe once a year about comics went out to check it.

And I was thoroughly satisfied by the story. There’s a significant percentage of fans who are super weary of messing with anything Watchmen, creating scrutiny for this book, but I’m all in. Johns and artist Gary Frank have earned trust. On another Johns note, I think it’s folly that his role in the DC movie universe is rumored to be changing because Justice League bombed. I mean, Johns came on board for Wonder Woman, which was the best superhero movie in years, and by that time, Justice League’s trajectory already seemed firmly in place. Hell, director Zack Snyder seemed to have had it planned before Batman V. Superman even opened. Not much Johns, or anyone else, could have done to make the wholesale changes needed. I know someone had to fall on their sword for Justice League bombing, but Johns is the WRONG answer.

1. Batman Annual #2

Okay, so more praise for Tom King: his work is so good it helped draw me back into being a Wednesday Warrior with my comic reading. I’d been following via trades at the library for a few years when Marvel announced its All New, All Different relaunch. I went back to shops, feeling that as an adult with steady income, I should directly support the industry. However, minus a few exceptions, I was disappointed with the storytelling. One of those exceptions was Tom King’s incredible Vision series with Gabriel Walta. From there, I read Omega Men and Sheriff of Babylon. It was all so good, so willing to take chances to make the text more beautiful and the story human. I was, of course, upset when Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo ended their all-time great run on Batman, but King taking over cushioned that blow. Issues like Batman Annual #2 are the reason why.

This is a fairly straightforward love story between Batman and Catwoman, one that transcends costumed ridiculousness and speaks to the beauty and tragedy inherent to romantic love. Drawn by Lee Weeks, King's collaborator from Batman Elmer Fudd (another improbably great work from Tom King), this is a heart-rending love story that is easily among the best comics of the year.

Top Comics for October 2017

Comic book critics have a tendency to over-review #1 issues. With good reason, I suppose, as the first installment of a series is generally a jumping on point read far more than future issues, and, presumably, one that more people want to read informed takes about before deciding whether it’s worth their $4, or whatever.

I get that, but I have an aversion to putting #1 issues on this list, unless they really earn it. I don’t want to reward potential over a solid track record. Besides, I don’t write real-time reviews aimed at helping decide what books to buy. I write retrospectives on what did and didn’t work each month, sometimes not until weeks after said month has ended (ahem, this month).

Maybe, my thinking goes, such pieces will help influence decisions about what to keep on a pull list. That would be rad. Really, though, I just try to discuss what is and is not working in the industry. It’s a conversation that’s particularly relevant now, with reports suggesting comic sales are on pace to finish 10 percent lower than they did in 2016. So yeah, while series like Kid Lobotomy, Wildstorm: Michael Cray, and Slots all launched in October with strong debuts, you won’t find them here. Instead, I’ve gone with two concluding issues for great runs, two issues from series that seem to be hitting their strides, and...oh snap, a #1. It’s a weird #1, though. Not technically a debut...ah, let’s just get into it.

5. Sherlock Frankenstein and the Legion of Evil #1

I know what the cover says, but this isn’t a real #1. It’s not a jumping on point, like, at all. It’s actually the first of a four-part interlude within Jeff Lemire’s superhero deconstruction, Black Hammer, which just finished a brilliant 13-issue run with Dark Horse Comics in September, concluding in a way that (cliche alert) left us with more questions than answers. But I won’t get into plot here.

What I loved about Black Hammer, and by extension the “first” issue of Sherlock Frankenstein and the Legion of Evil (perfect name for a comic, btw) is the subversion of the mood of traditional superhero deconstructions like Watchmen or The Dark Knight Returns, both of which are exceedingly grim. That’s not to say Black Hammer is cheery or optimistic. Far from. Its prevailing tone is somber. Those classic works, in spite of their realism, still trade in excitement, but this is a subdued story about purgatory, about dedicating one’s life to others and as a result being lost, possibly imprisoned. It’s a story in which what’s NOT on the page speaks volumes, like, for example, how there are next to no fight scenes.

Black Hammer is a mystery, so I could be way off, but my take is Lemire is concerned more with implications. He’s asking if violence is ever justified, if it is ever righteous enough to come without a steep price. It’s a theme that has recurred in his recent work, specifically in the excellent 2015 Image Comics mini-series Plutona, which turns a lens on readers who exalt superheros, and in his even better original graphic novel Roughneck, which does the same for hockey fans (and which Lemire both wrote and drew, while continuing to produce several high quality monthly comics...don’t think too long about that).

I’m in on Black Hammer until the end, and I highly suggest you get with it, too. Once this mini wraps up, I fully expect a return to the main plotline, likely with a new #1 that’s also not really a #1.

4. Royal City #6

Speaking of work Jeff Lemire both wrote and drew, the next comic here is Royal City #6. This is also a somber book, with nothing cartoony about it. This is, simply put, one of the most outwardly-personal serialized stories from a major publisher, and I’m continually surprised to see it stocked at high volume in local comic shops alongside tights and spaceships and time travellers.   

Royal City landed on my list after I was wondering if Lemire would be interested in continuing past the first five issues. These are slice of life stories, tied thematically (by loss, nostalgia, love of music) rather than by grand plotlines. The first arc was poignant and haunting, and I wasn’t sure where the story would go. The answer, turns out, is an obvious one: the same place, only deeper.

I’ve also been impressed with how well this book uses the graphic medium. With the possible exception of Grass Kings (a kindred spirit to Royal City in some ways), no book right now is better using the flexibility of hand-drawn images to convey losses that characters hold tight, with visual representations of phantom loved ones blending seamlessly into the current lives their absences have so greatly impacted. To have a protagonist talking to his dead brother all the time would take viewers out of a film, but it’s a perfect fit for comic book storytelling.

3. Paper Girls #16

Brian K. Vaughan’s body of work is among the most impressive of any writer in comics. He’s not as prolific a creator as Lemire (who is?), but his career is filled with landmark, influential series that have reached beyond the insularity of comics to win fans in the mainstream, like Runaways (coming soon to Hulu), Y: The Last Man, and Saga, an issue of which made my favorites list last month.

Vaughan has earned our trust, which is why I never worried when Paper Girls began with muddled narrative clarity. None of Vaughan’s other series had been so hard to decipher early — hell, Saga arguably has the best narration in the history of the medium — so I figured withholding was intentional and destined to be used to great effect. Plus, Cliff Chiang’s artwork was sharp and compelling. And guess what, looks like my figuring was right!

Paper Girls #16 is the start of a new arc in which the reasons for the adventure seem poised to get clearer. I’ve long suspected the letters page of being a clue, oscillating from a bygone-era male paperboy voice to a modern (possibly futuristic) female voice that describes print as anachronistic and dead. Plus, whether or not the window has closed to get a membership card to the paper delivery guild seems to fluctuate wildly. That’s got to be significant. Theorizing aside, this issue was great because it naturally delivered the first character with an interest in figuring out the time struggle our namesake paper girls have been engaged with for the past 15 issues. I can’t wait to learn all that she knows.

2. Victor LaValle’s Destroyer #6

I’ve been aware of Victor LaValle for some time through literary friends and fiction circles, but didn’t know he wrote (or had interest in writing) comics. It’s not surprising. In fact, many of my favorite literary writers either dabble in or have been influenced by the medium (Junot Diaz, Mat Johnson, Michael Chabon, Jonathan Lethem, Benjamin Percy, Ta-Nehisi Coates, to name a few). So, based on the creator’s reputation, I pre-ordered Victor LaValle’s Destroyer months before the first issue came out.

Now that it’s over, I’m excited I did. I try to keep my comic consumption to 75 titles a month (I know, how noble of me) and what first drew me into this book was LaValle’s clear obsession with Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, which shapes this narrative. What kept me reading was the characterization and thematic exploration of the ongoing American police violence against young black men. LaValle’s story, spread over six issues, is exciting on a surface level, too, so much so that by the time the emotional scope becomes evident and you realize the cost paid by the family at the center of the story, it’s entirely too late to avoid being devastated, especially if you’ve been following the news. It’s a poignant and expert bit of storytelling.

Last month, #5 could have just as easily made the list, but I knew the end was coming in October and wanted to hold off until it had been completed, sort of like how the academy awards waited for the last movie to give best picture to Lord of the Rings. I also want to note that Boom Studios has been putting out great, creator-driven work as of late, titles like Mech Cadet Yu and Grass Kings, and Destroyer is part of that wave. So yeah, if you haven’t been reading it, I highly suggest making it a point to pick up the trade.

1. Silver Surfer #14

At my top spot this month is the finale issue of writer Dan Slott and artist Mike Allred’s run on Silver Surfer, which started back in March of 2014 and saw the duo put out 29 phenomenal issues, some of which were innovative (the endless Silver Surfer #11 from the Marvel Now run, namely) and all of which were filled with Slott’s ambitious emotional concepts and Allred’s incredible eye for pop art.

The release schedule for this title was sporadic, and I often assumed (correctly) that each issue would be a month late, minimum, but when they arrived it became evident that the extra time (which Slott has said was his fault, always) was put to good use. I’ll really miss this book, and, to be honest, I can't intellectualize much more beyond that.

This Silver Surfer run accomplished one of the most difficult feats in modern superhero comics: it gave us (cliche alert!) a rich tapestry of installments driven by character, while at the same time serving as a set of contained chapters that could be appreciated for individual merits. My favorite was the penultimate Silver Surfer #13, which was about our human desire to share life with a deeply beloved partner, all while knowing time will eventually claim one of us, knowing how painful that day will be and not caring. It drove me to tears with its beauty. It’s hard to think of a better way to spend $3.99.

Ursula K. Le Guin Adaptations Should be the Next Game of Thrones

Game of Thrones deconstructed the familiar cliches of high fantasy, taking a grittier, more logical look at that genre. And everyone loved it.

Watchmen and The Dark Knight Returns both did that for superhero comics. And everyone loved it. Or comics people did, at least. Then everyone did when Christopher Nolan drew from the latter work to inspire his Batman trilogy.

And The Walking Dead did that for zombie fiction, kind of (kind of because George A. Romero started at a gritty and logical point with it years ago, but Walking Dead has extended the concept out to long-term survival, arguably a deconstruction of a genre often limited to the early days of the outbreak). Everyone loved it, kept loving the comic, stopped loving it after early seasons of the show.

A billion people have deconstructed horror movies. Some love it. That’s fine. I’m not really interested in most horror films, but I do want to make my point a little more.

Zombies, wizards, caped crusaders, murderers...all major tentpoles of genre storytelling have been deconstructed and taken to real, logical places with a notable exception: science fiction.

There is, however, source material out there awaiting adaptation to remedy this, to take our Star Wars and Star Treks and turn them into something we relate too without having to sustain disbelief. This material might even stand up to scientific scrutiny from Neil Degrasse Tyson, it's that good.

I’m talking about Ursula K. Le Guin’s Hainish Cycle novels, the bulk of which were written during a torrid and arguably unmatched ten-year literary stretch from 1966 to 1976, with the final three entries capturing the Hugo Award, basically the Pulitzer Prize of sci-fi.

I can see it so clearly in my head, a series on FX or HBO or AMC, an anthology where characters don’t carry over from one season to the next, starting with Rocannon’s World. I can see the world-building, done slowly at first. I can see the twists and reveals of the first book, as well as of the second and third, Planet of Exile and City of Illusion, respectively. I can see warring and subtle aliens and fights for survival.

I can see it then transition from genre into undeniable prestige TV in the fourth season, which brings the classic The Left Hand of Darkness, easily the most distinguished book in Le Guin’s prolific career, made more relevant now as society begins a presumably long process of integrating gender fluidity.

In these books there are myriad alien races, different worlds, civilizations in various states of development, windows into ages of fantasy. There are love stories and meditations on consciousness and questions about whether human evolution itself might have been tampered with by peoples from the stars. There’s political intrigue and politicking and science, all built upon a staggeringly realistic foundation of ideas rooted in real anthropology, presumably gleaned by Le Guin’s upbringing as the daughter of a UC Berkeley anthropologist and a writer.

I know the anthropology stuff is a dry sell, but Mad Men worked, didn't it? I also think the zeitgeist has never been so primed for such an adaptation, for an alternative to the annual Star Wars releases, which are tiring now in their early phases with the accompanying year-round news and hype cycles, both of which only stand to get worse in the years to come.

What you get in Le Guin’s works is not swashbuckling space operatics. It’s a series of barely-connected stories of how planetary characteristics influence culture, evolution, and the ways people socialize. It’s different and easier to relate to than laser swords. In her work, communication through space is hard, travel is harder. People spend lifetimes moving between worlds, as it no doubt would be had we mastered that sort of technology.

This all makes so much sense, and it would seem Le Guin herself is amenable to having her work adapted. A recent news note suggested Left Hand of Darkness was getting a limited television series, but also called into question its own likelihood by noting there was no screenwriter. And she has previously allowed for adaptations of another series of books of hers, the Earthsea fantasy novels (although she lambasted the questionable quality).

The point is this can and should be done, and if it does happen, the potential for mainstream success is there, as much as it was for Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead.

Top 5 Comics for September 2017

September was a great month for long-running series reminding us what made them so compelling in the first place, specifically Saga #47 and The Wicked + Divine #31 (Southern Bastards #18 was also close). This is comforting. There’s been much quality churn in the big two of late (blame superhero box office success and resulting corporate interest) and I wonder where comics would be without these steady books from the vanguard of Image Comics’ recent renaissance. There's always imaginative and strong work to be found in true indies — ahem Vault Comics, ahem Lion Forge — and while I suppose the mainstream might consider Image indie, it hardly seems like it, as the company's books are in most shops.  

Marvel and DC, though, are basically like struggling sports teams in die-hard cities: no matter how much they suck, hope springs eternal because we grew up rooting for them and, hey, how cool would it be if they defied all odds and got better? Keeping with sports analogies, DC Rebirth is a resurgent team having a surprising big year … in that this is nice and all but fans are still waiting for them to fall apart because we've been burned in the past. Two things I’m doing, though: 1. Knocking off sports analogies (‘bout time, right?), and 2. Enjoying DC Rebirth while it's strong. This month is a good time to savor DC, to be sure, with the publisher delivering a foundation for a character-defining maxi series in Tom King’s Miracle Man #2 and a rare well-done modern mega event in Scott Snyder’s Dark Knights Metal #2.

Also, my top five for September includes Snotgirl. So, without further adieu...

5. Snotgirl #7

Snotgirl’s Lottie Person is the anti-hero antidote (antilote?...antilottie?...oh jesus, I'll stop) for the hyper-masculine angsty middle-age men that swept prestige TV a few years ago, your Don Drapers and Heisenbergs and whatnot. Where those guys methed it up or leveraged power and looks to abuse women, Lottie is just selfish and vapid and consumed with appearances. She also has severe allergies and green hair. Like Don Draper and Walter White, though, one can make a case that she’s a product of environment.

I’ve been all in on Snotgirl from issue #1, enthralled with the promise of monthly work from Scott Pilgrim’s Bryan Lee O’Malley, and, sure, after returning from hiatus this summer, Snotgirl is now every other month, but one of the reasons I gave this book a top five slot is that the added time really shows. This seventh issue is a significant improvement over the end of the last arc. The script is just as clever, but the book has regained a sense of purpose and pacing that had gotten a bit jumbled, evidenced here by intriguing B and C plots —  her foe waking up and the detectives, respectively — that seem to be building.

Basically, this book is funny, hip, and could be a timely satire of Internet/Instagram looks versus truth culture, something (correct me if I’m wrong) no medium has quite nailed.

4. Dark Knights Metal #2

Much has been written about Metal, and even more has been said during awkward exchanges at registers in comic shops (one side always seems to enjoy those more than the other, btw), but I still want to note that Metal, the biggest event so far in the Rebirth era, is a perfect blend of what the publisher got right in the New 52 and the back-to-basics simplicity of Rebirth.

The Snyder-Capullo Batman run was New 52's best sustained work, possibly one of the best runs ever done in-continuity for the character, or any other big two character really (I may compile a list of my all-time favorite in-continuity runs soon). It obsessed over the idea that Batman’s insistence on fighting crime was at its core a young man escaping the trappings of adulthood, not getting married, having kids, settling down, etc. This was great (and also a theme in all of Snyder’s short stories from his excellent collection, Voodoo Heart) but what gave it lasting emotional heft was often funneling it through Alfred’s perspective, the ersatz father who wanted his adopted boy to just be a happy man, pitting Alfred's desire against Bruce's powerful trauma and Gotham City's need for safety. Anyway, my point is it was serious and well done.

Metal isn’t that, not entirely. It posits a New 52-ish question — what if DC had a corresponding dark multiverse —  while also delivering rocking set pieces (Justice League-themed Voltron, anyone?). Basically, Metal blends high-minded motifs from the Snyder-Capullo New 52 run with rocking superhero accessibility from Rebirth. It’s a great hybrid, even better because the Rebirth storyline (especially with Superman) is bending towards a reality that deliberately includes bits of both pre- and post-New 52 continuities as a plot device (the full extent of which is likely to be made clear in Rebirth mastermind Geoff John's forthcoming event/Watchmen sequel, Doomsday Clock). 

3. Saga #47

The first act of Saga #47 is jarringly normal. A boy watches dysfunctional caretakers interact in what might be Earth, might even be suburbia. Jarring because this Saga arc started with an old west-themed issue on an alien abortion planet, something far nearer its cruising altitude than the suburbs. The second and third acts then contain plenty of the factors that have made Saga Image's most successful book since The Walking Dead: twists, earned obstacles, increased stakes heading for our protagonists, ongoing exploration of a central metaphor (star-crossed inter-species lovers from perpetually warring species), plus world-building, world-building, world-building. It's amazing that this deep in the run Saga's world is still being satisfyingly fleshed out.

Saga is my favorite ongoing series in comics, and this issue is a digression from its central plot, to be sure, but these sort of side trips are one of Saga’s strengths. Basically, issues like this are the reason why, upping the stakes significantly for the little family at the story's core, an impressive narrative feat that never feels like filler. Even one of the best writers in the industry (if not the best), Jeff Lemire, has struggled with this at times in his own excellent sci-fi opus Descender. But Brian K. Vaughn consistently nails it in Saga.

They say this is an unfilmable story (who’s they? I don’t know, the Internet? Someone says it), and that may very well be true. But Saga is tailor-made for serial monthly graphic storytelling, and an issue of this quality after 47 tries is even more remarkable because it’s exactly what we’ve come to expect.

2. Mister Miracle #2

Look everyone, it’s a month of proclaiming my favorite this and my favorite that! I’ll come right out and say it: Tom King is my favorite writer in comics. I’m a sucker for a backstory that involves struggle, and King’s creative journey is filled with it. He’s late to the comic creator game, having logged time in the CIA after 9/11 (no big deal), and he took a risk by quitting his full-time to stay home, watch his kids and write at night. He misfired on a novel (which I'd still like to read), before fighting into comics and rising to the top. Since then, he's been cranking out modern classic after modern classic (Omega Men > Vision > Sheriff of Babylon), and Mister Miracle is poised to be next in line.

King’s stuff on more well-known superheroes has been fine, better than fine, but he really shines when taking characters with inherent wackiness seriously and then going right for the heart strings. He certainly did that with Vision and within his Batman run with Kite Man (Kite Man!), and he’s doing that again here with Mister Miracle, aka Scott Free.

Issue one hinted that King would play with form, one of his strengths, while issue two reminds us who exactly Scott Free is (grew up child-swapped to the evilest being in the universe as part of a peace agreement, escaped horrendous conditions over and over again until it become second nature). Issue 2 isn’t as offbeat or perplexing as issue 1, but that’s fine. It does the unsung work of giving Scott Free meaningful relationships in his life. This story is going to land somewhere powerful, and it's on us to enjoy the journey as much as we can. 

1. The Wicked + The Divine #31

Let's compare The Wicked + The Divine this month to Saga, both of which were reminders of how excellent and taken for granted these books can be. Yet, whereas Saga has long been a carefully-paced slow burn with occasional flare ups that tear you down and make you cry, Wic + Div has been crescendo after crescendo, putting readers in a small boat in a tumultuous sea of remixed religious dogma and obsessive music fandom.

This month’s wave was the biggest to crest since the demise of the series primary antagonist, Ananke. Kieron Gillen loves telling readers broad strokes of upcoming arcs in this book's backmatter, writing stuff like in three issues there’s a major surprise, in four issues we have a guest artist, etc, and I swear he’s said a few times that we'd be ramping to an end game soon. Now, however, I suspect Gillen is still having better ideas, still not ready to start winding this story down, and it's not hurting the book at all. He's got so many pieces in play that suddenly losing one in this issue was surprisingly tough to see, a reminder of the lush and mysterious journey we've been taking with all these people. That's good writing.

We’ve been given one certainty over and over from the start: Every ninety years, twelve gods incarnate as humans. They are loved. They are hated. In two years, they are dead. That's right, our sexy embodiments of modern music stardom are not long for this world, but how exactly they will destroy each other is the pressing question Gillen continues to ask on a scale as effective as it is grand.