Morrison is well positioned to comment on both the unfulfilled promises of Western comics and Western politics, and they frame these topics in a compelling fashion throughout this first issue. Superman and The Authority ultimately serves as abstract and introduction for the dissertation to come, and it sets expectations reasonably high. It's enough to leave readers eagerly anticipating what will be accomplished as a more varied cast and settings emerge. The addition of ziptone in 1963 and other small touches, like the use of frames from the Zapruder film, make even this very focused introduction sparkle. This is enhanced considerably by Jordie Bellaire's color work as each room takes on a new hue in relation to the tone of events on the page. Janín details each new room so that it serves a clear purpose and shifts the reader's perspective, even if ever so slightly.
The conversation begins with Superman looming over Manchester Black, apparently paralyzed, and proceeds to alter that dynamic considerably as they move through Superman's Fortress of Solitude. It sets expectations very high for how the remaining 3 issues will pay off all of this prologue, but the prologue is delicious enough to not worry much. However, the focus in Superman and The Authority #1 is entirely on the narrative stakes presented by, and to some degree represented by, these two DC Comics characters. Only a brief cutaway is allowed to inform readers of a mysterious antagonist on the horizon. This is punctuated by various conflicts, but there are no other named characters on the page as these two continue a metatextual back-and-forth begun in 2001. Beyond the flashback to 1963, nearly the entire issue comprised of an extended conversation between Superman and Manchester Black. It's this framing that makes an indulgent first issue to a four-issue series more palatable. That's a potent approach for Grant Morrison, one of superhero comics' most celebrated storytellers, to take in what may be his final Superman story. Whether readers are examining the narrative's critique of politics or media, the throughline throughout is narratives failing to deliver change. It's also not difficult to find more focused parallels in superhero comics, whether that's the unfulfilled promises found at the dawn of the Silver Age in 1963 or the merit represented by Morrison and their peers in the 1980s and 90s.
It's possible to read this framing as a literal reflection on the politics of Morrison's lifetime as they watched the promises of liberalism fail to deliver prosperity for all. Regardless of its accuracy, Kennedy's narrative is that of Camelot and its fall a moment of immense possibilities already fallen into decline by the decade's end.
Those first few pages in which JFK invites Superman to call him Jack in the halls of the White House are filled with ironic promise.
0 kommentar(er)
