Years ago I asked my partner what their favorite flower was. They wouldn’t tell me. They liked purple; their personality was gregarious, bombastic in tone and tenor. I thought they’d like a Lilly. I was wrong. They loved red roses – basic, predictable, thorny, and reliable.
“But” they told me, eyes playful, voice low, “a flower is only a flower, no matter the flower; it’s the thought that counts, and you thought.”
Years ago another partner (Miles isn’t the only one who dates, amirite!) told me I was simple. Before the anger left my brain to shape my lips to say something I’d regret, they reminded me:
“I didn’t say you were stupid. I said you were simple. There is a difference.”
She was right. Thank goodness for a slow brain.
Miles Morales: Spider-Man #31 is simple. It is a date. A flirt. A fight. A failing. It’s a linear, familiar tale, where the bad guy hurts the boy and takes the girl, setting the boy down a path for vengeance. The girl, Starling, talks her stuff. She cocks back a gun. She flies her beau to safety after he’s injured by a jubilantly violent Taskmaster. She gets captured. Taskmaster wins the day. Miles’ body and pride are hurt. Revenge and redemption are almost certain to come next. Simple, right?
What do we know about Tiana Toomes? Well, she’s the granddaughter of the Vulture which, for so many reasons, makes her incredibly interesting; she’s fiercely independent; she flies, obviously; despite the designer and inspiration of her outfit, she’s a heroine (for now!); she thinks Miles is cute. That’s a lot of info to flesh out a character, and yet I don’t really feel like I know her. Sure, I know about her. I know her bio and resume. But I don’t know the person. I think she’s worth knowing.
I judge artists on how they draw Black hair. I suspect we see locks so often because you can flow them much like euro-centric hair. Cornrows are static. Ahh, but fades and waves and linings – these require a kind of cultural knowledge and nuance not all artists have.
Miles’ bowl cut here by Christopher Allen, jumping in after artists’ who’ve better been able to draw Miles with a fade and waves, feels like a step back. Miles looks a little more – generic? – here than he has in the past. The action maybe a bit less ambitious than in previous episodes. Yet I appreciate the detail in the face, the fullness of his lips, the texture of his skin tone. Save for the hair, it’s good. Not exceptional. Not great. But very very good.
Tiana deserves development. Not just because Black women deserve stories where they’re the subject, not the object; not just because setting her up to be fridged feels beneath, well, everyone and everything. A fully developed Tiana Toomes, daughter of a supervillain, hunted by Taskmaster, is just plain interesting. Developing her as a contrast to Miles makes Miles more interesting – and thus the comic that much better. She deserves more than simply being a love interest damsel.
And maybe we’ll get that. Maybe she won’t be a damsel; maybe she’ll have the agency to spring her own release. Maybe the whole capture is an elaborate set up. Maybe she’s not so good after all. All of that would be dope, but not of that would be simple. Miles Morales: Spider-Man, for better or worse, is simple.
Not stupid. Not bad. But simple. Just simple.
Just a flower, whose giver’s intentions are good, just not always good for me. The thought, it turns out, only counts for so much.
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.
