It’s clobberin’ time as the heroes of Wakanda Prime face off against their intergalactic, antagonistic brethren. Can T’Challa’s overcome the ultimate test of his leadership? We find out (with a little help from his many friends) in the penultimate issue of writer Ta-Nehisi Coates’ run. Black Panther #24 with Daniel Acuña and Joe Sabino.
A little secret: when Black people of a certain age watch game shows, say Wheel of Fortune or Family Feud, we root for the Black family. 20 times out of 10. You project yourself onto those onto those individuals and families, onto those characters, and the viewing experience becomes involved. It becomes personal. Right answers feel more fulfilling and wrong ones hurt just a little more than they probably should.
But it’s 2021. A generation of Black kids have had the privilege of seeing people who look like them in positions of power, fictional and otherwise, for years. And while it’s not enough, not at all enough. It is something. And because it’s something, maybe they don’t cheer for the Black family automatically. Maybe they don’t feel they have to. And maybe that’s a good thing. But for people of a certain age like Ta-Nehisi Coates and I, seeing ourselves anywhere, from The Price is Right to the pages of Black Panther, feels like more than something. It feels like everything. He’s listening. Coates has to be listening.
He’s heard you (well, me) complain about how cerebral his writing is. How it can be slow and methodical. How action is deprioritized for exposition. How, while interesting, while objectively good, his writing on Black Panther hasn’t been fun. He had to have been listening, for this issue is a resounding response.
There is little dialogue here. Few text boxes comparing an internal emotional struggle to the physical one illustrated on page. No quips. No talking back. Just fighting. Page after page of Black heroes getting it in. Luke Cage. Misty. Eli Bradley. Oya (Oya!). Miles. Even my fellow New Orleanians Monica and Jericho. Everyone just slugging it out, together. Maybe this is what Coates had in mind when he brought back The Crew. Maybe this is revenge for it’s oh so early cancellation. Who knows? Who cares? We are having too much fun!
Luke smashes. Monica blasts. Nick Fury shoots. And all of it, every single bit of it, is glorious. (Though, to be fair, they’re fighting Wakandans, albeit ones from a different galaxy. I wish I could enjoy this moment, beautiful as it is, unsullied from cultural infighting. But, as in real life, violence is never clear or clean.)
I’m a huge fan of the art of Daniel Acuña. I love his lines, his action stances, his coloring. This looks as gorgeous as it needs to and it needed to look perfect. The two page spread of all the heroes fighting is worth the price of the comic alone. It’s that good.
We end with N’Jadaka getting ready to face off with T’Challa. The battle will end the war. It will end the almost 5 year run of the comic, a run that preceded the motion picture becoming a cultural phenomenon. I expect issue #25 to return to the dialogue we’ve been used to. I expect a fitting coda. I expect this work as a whole, as I’ve said before, to read much better as a collected edition than it does as individual issues. But today? Today we simply fight. And that fight, that struggle, is ever beautiful.
The 10 year old version of me would have lost his shit seeing this. Maybe a 10 year old today, raised on Miles Morales and Chadwick Boseman, wouldn’t. Maybe it would just be something pretty, something cool. But to me, then, and to me, now? It’s everything.
We’ve seen how quickly gains can be lost politically. Nothing can be taken for granted; Nothing given is guaranteed. Thus representation like this isn’t overzealous; it is necessary, so the next generation of comic fans can continually see how beautiful we can be.
Comics are entertainment. And for all the things they could and should do – be more inclusive, and thoughtful, and representative – the one thing they need to do is entertain us. They need to make us happy. Give us joy. Black Panther #24 knows this. It finally accepts being pure, simple fantasy fulfillment. It is raucous. It is joyful. Coates listened and gave us what we asked for.
It is everything.
A proud New Orleanian living in the District of Columbia, Jude Jones is a professional thinker, amateur photographer, burgeoning runner and lover of Black culture, love and life. Magneto and Cyclops (and Killmonger) were right.
Find more of Jude’s writing here.
