Everything ends. Our universe is no exception. However, the only way the universe ends is over Ororo Munroe’s dead body. So be it. Storm #12 is written by Murewa Ayodele, drawn by Mario Santoro, colored by Fer Sifuentes-Sujo and lettered by Travis Lanham.
It’s about 5 p.m. on Monday here in the District of Columbia. My AC is blasting, probably for one of the last times before fall fully takes hold. The sun is shining brightly, bathing my mildly malnourished plants in mirror-reflected and computer screen-refracted light. I haven’t lit a candle yet, but the remnants of last night’s fire still give my small studio a light hint of bergamot and musk.
I am happy here. Comfortable. Calm. It’s a blessing.
Now what, you might ask, does that have to do with Storm? Well, nothing at all, which, frustratingly and sadly, applies to the comic as well.
Storm (the issue — #12) is many, many things: a cosmic opera featuring some of the most vaunted, powerful, arguably ill-defined characters (notions?) in the Marvel Universe; an intimate story about how we choose to accept, reject and ultimately reconcile with family; a treatise about how power ultimately corrupts, and how ultimate power corrupts completely.
Storm (the series) featured many, many people: Doctor Voodoo, Wolverine (insert eyeroll), Isca the Unbeaten, Frenzy, the Avengers, kaiju, Thanos(?), Silver Surfer (??), Japheth, and that damn hippo.
Yet of the many things the comic tried to do, and of the many people it featured, one person’s voice and actions were precipitously sidelined throughout the proceedings:
Storm.
Pick up this issue (really, you should support it!). Count the number of words Storm says. Compare it to the length and depth of the dialogue of Eternity or the One Above All. You’d struggle to believe that this wasn’t their comic, not hers. Eternity is the character whose perspective we, if not empathize with, get the most depth into. We see his reasoning, his pain, his loss and, if not his redemption, his revenge.
We only see Storm as his vessel.
I’ve said it before, and it bears repeating: that a comic named after a woman is so centered on male characters is frustrating; that this female character doesn’t have an active voice is maddening; that this woman loses agency over her body to a male entity that uses her for his own perverse pleasures is, and I do not exaggerate here, dangerous. You cannot apologize for taking her agency — a meta conversation, to be sure — only to have the character commit murder against her will a few panels later. I understand the story-related rationales behind this; I do not think this was done with malice toward women in general or the character in particular. Still, in this time, with all of this going on, it’s not helpful to see “Earth’s Mightiest Mutant” (as she will be referred to when the series resumes in February) as a victimized, violated side character in her own story.
And of that story: How many plot points — running for office, being arrested by the government, her “sanctuary” — were thrown out with little development, follow-up or even acknowledgement in subsequent issues?
I know I sound like a broken record, but as this is as much a summation of the series as the issue: How much more do we know about Storm’s hopes, desires, dreams, powers, alliances … anything than we did before?
Nothing!
I appreciate much about this comic: The art, specifically and especially Mario Santoro does an amazing job here, animating her expressions in ways I wish the dialogue would. I enjoy a good punch and lightning strike. I love the designs, and the allusions to African and Caribbean lore sprinkled throughout. I like the idea of Doctor Voodoo and Bishop being present, though, again, their execution feels more slapdash than anything else.
And that’s it, really: I just want more thoughtfulness. More intention. More focus.
More Storm.
Ayodele seems to have picked up on this, as, in his benediction to “Stormcasters” on the final page, he notes the renewed series will be more character focused, a welcome change from the unfocused action that’s defined this series thus far.
It’s now about 6 p.m. I’m about to go for a walk in a neighborhood much quieter, greener, walkable than the one I grew up in. Kids are finishing their afternoon activities, commuting traffic has eased and the sun is beginning to set. The world is still spinning, and I am still in it, as present as I can be.
All is not right. All is not well, but the possibility of more pushes me to persevere.
And as I go, so does Storm.
What a blessing, indeed.
Buy Storm #12 here. (Disclaimer: As an Amazon Associate, ComicsXF may earn from qualifying purchases.)
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. Learn more about Jude at SaintJudeJones.com.
