11 p.m. on Wednesday night, and I’ve just finished reading all this week’s comics. That’s always a terrible feeling, because it’s now the longest possible wait until more new comics. I’ve found the best remedy for this fallow period is a supplemental visit to the comic book store on Friday — nothing like a graphic novel to stave off the shakes for a few more days. If insurance would cover my comics habit, I’d spend the money I saved on … well, more comics probably.

But that’s somewhere in the future, and this is now. And in the very recent past, I read these comics: Superman/Batman #74, Battlefields #8, Power Girl #14, Batman Odyssey #1 and The Troll King graphic novel. What are my thoughts? I’m glad you asked.

Supes/Bats has been taken over by writer Paul Levitz (formerly publisher of a little concern called “DC Comics”) and artist Jerry Ordway, and to my mind, that’s a good thing. I dropped this book about 50 issues ago, but Levitz’s return to writing made me curious enough to pick it up again. The past few issues have been very entertaining, primarily because Levitz has a solid grasp on both characters and how they should behave — like people, not like costumes. Batman is not as arrogant or confrontational with Superman as some writers tend to go, and Supes has a confidence that’s actually inspiring rather than being smug. Levitz also writes one of the more entertaining takes on Lex Luthor, focusing less on his “I hate Superman” mantra in favor of a “I’m going to make the world a safer, more Lex Luthor kinda place, primarily by getting rid of my main obstacle, Superman.” It’s a subtle difference, but to me it’s important; Lex thinks he’s doing the world a favor. In this case, the favor involves subverting the evolution of an alien world by shipping them advanced technology and fomenting a religion based on the destruction of Superman as part of a far-reaching and slow-burning scheme to (someday) beat Superman; it’s kind of a Silver Age aesthetic, especially with Ordway’s art favoring lean, athletic heroes rather than bulky tank-men. Comics don’t always have to be hyperthyroid psychos growling threats at each other to be a good time.

I’m already on the record as greatly enjoying Battlefields, and this second part of the second go-round with female Russian fighter pilot Anna Kharkov is good, but not as gripping as the previous arc, “Tankies” (out this week in softcover, so give it a look). I like Russ Braun’s art, I like the characters, and I like a big Nazis vs. Russkies aerial dogfight (that last clause is lifted directly from my resume), but it’s just not captured my fancy the same way that the prior two arcs did. That said, I have a feeling next issue is going to be gut-churning, because the final issue of every arc of this series has been harrowing. We’re in the calm before the storm right now.

Batman Odyssey (no relation to Spinal Tap’s jazz odyssey as far as I can determine) is penciled and written by Neal Adams, and it looks fantastic. Adams maintains his mastery of the dynamic page, imbuing almost every figure with a palpable sense of motion and action. The plot and dialogue are both pretty good for someone known primarily for their art. Batman regales a young Dick Grayson about his first time out in the costume — he’s packing a pair of .45s, which may be a reference to Julius Schwartz’s first Batman issue, lo those many years ago — and Adams is clearly of the opinion that Batman doesn’t always have the be a hyperthyroid psycho growling threats at people.

There’s a subplot about something to do with Man-Bat and a dark secret he’s harboring, and while this has a whiff of the “Year One”-type story everybody wants to do when they get a Batbook, Adams keeps it interesting characterization-wise. Bruce is thoughtful and patient with Dick, trying to impart a lesson about why he’s never carried a gun since that first mission, and while it gets a little preachy about the dangerous lure of guns, Adams writes a Batman who is funny and regrets not taking the time to enjoy Dick’s company more. I’d read more of the 23 monthly Bat-titles if there were more writers who believed Batman didn’t have to sound and behave like a tortured maniac, so of course I will continue to read Batman Odyssey, and maybe play a little free jazz bass guitar during the breakdown.

I’m conflicted about Power Girl. This is only the second issue for the current team of Judd Winick and Sami Basri, and I very much loved the work of the previous team, so I’m probably bound to be disappointed by whoever followed in Jimmy Palmiotti and Amanda Connor’s wake. We’re moving into a story involving OMACs (not the cool Jack Kirby one, but the lame android with tail fins ones from Crisis: Blue Robots, or whatever that “event’ was called), a purple war robot programmed to destroy cities and the return of Max Lord. I’m pretty sure I already didn’t read a Max Lord/OMAC story, so why make me skip it again?

The B-plot is about Kara Starr losing her company to embezzlement, and let’s be honest — who wants to see another comic where the hero is stripped of everything, with only their superhero identity left to them? One of the more interesting elements of Palmiotti’s run was the concept of superhero establishing and running a major corporation; watching a character who had previously spent an inordinate amount of time wondering “Who am I?” go out and create a real life from the ground up turned out to be a lot of fun and it made Kara Starr interesting. Jettisoning that so early in the run is dumb. This lacks the sparkle and spirit of the Palmiotti/Connor year, and is likely going to be about the seventh book Judd Winick has forced me to drop. However, I met him once in San Jose, and he came across as a very nice, regular guy, so he gets to finish this arc, and if it’s still this dreary, I cut him. I cut him so hard.

Kolbeinn Karlsson’s The Troll King is the exact opposite of dreary. It’s beguiling in both illustration and story, with a sort of Mat Brinkman/Brian Chippendale/Fort Thunder feel to it. There are very few words in this, but don’t let that fool you into believing it to be simple. Karlsson’s tale of a pair of homosexual quasi- sasquatch beings who propitiate a slightly-ominous icon in hopes of having a child is rife with dream-like imagery, jarring intrusions from the real world in the form of consumerism and senseless violence, a sleepy dwarf and a homunculus-like carrot being who takes a bath and ends up generating a new wave of life. I ripped through this in a daze, and I had to fight the urge to read it again in order to write this — it’s most likely going to infest my dreams, and I can’t wait. The Troll King represents the unique strength of comic books; you can create any world you can imagine in a comic, but most people are satisfied to recreate the same things over and over. Kolbeinn Karlsson is not most people, and this brief excursion into his imagination should be treasured. Be advised that there’s a generous amount of full-frontal nudity in this, and it’s all male. That’s gonna put some people off, but those people are going to miss an amazing adventure.

Is The Troll King the best thing I read this week?

Oh, most definitely.

-Paul

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