by Gabby

Let’s start this off by being honest.

I don’t particularly like Spike. I think he was at his best in season 2 of Buffy. Spike and Drusilla, an evil duo taking pleasure in other people’s misery. I loved the intricate foursome they formed with Angelus and Darla, combining their pasts into something semi-incestuous. After that, I feel like Spike was used as bait; something to draw in viewers, because people loooove Spike. He never really found his place after that, for me. Always hanging around the edges of the Scooby gang, with an inexplicable infatuation for the Slayer (as she leads him on, then drops him ad vitam eternam), not really serving any kind of purpose. I think the goal was to give him a purpose, being the Hero that destroyed the Hellmouth at the series’ conclusion. But it felt a little cheap, tacked on. Overall, I guess he just fits the mold of my Buffyverse experience, though I’m sure it wouldn’t be the same if he weren’t there.

This mini-series kind of makes me think I was onto something.

In APART OF ME, part three (in Buffy, S9), Spike makes a decision.

Spike: (…) You can take some time to figure out what you need, Buffy. Me being here doesn’t help.
Buffy: Don’t tell me what I need.
Spike: Withdrawn. But you tell me. How do you imagine I felt when you said you were thinking of us running off together? (Silence) Come with me now. You’re right. There’s no one here for you. What does this town have to offer? (…) I don’t want to go back. To lurking around the edge of your life. Watching from this far above it all till you’re desperate for someone you can count on. (…) You know what. Forget it, Slayer. And I don’t mean to sound snappish. I love you. You know this. But I can’t get jerked around no more. I’m not even saying I blame you. I can never tell for sure where your heart’s at, so I’m not gonna stand here under a romantic, albeit deadly, sunset lecturing you. I believe in you, Buffy. And I know you’ll do right. That’s how I have your back.

Then he jets off into said deadly sunset on his ship of bugs. This is where his solo arc kicks off for five issues, a journey of self-re-discovery. Who is Spike, without Buffy? Let’s find out.

A DARK PLACE, parts 1 to 5

This starts with Spike in his bug ship wanting to go to the dark side of the mood to brood. I don’t really understand where the ship, or the bugs, come from. According to a wiki (http://buffy.wikia.com/wiki/Spike’s_ship), it’s some sort of escape pod that Wolfram&Hart planned to use when Twilight/Angel created a new world. Regardless, what I do know is that the bugs, lead by Sebastian, are hilarious and talk like robots infected by proper english. Witness:

Basically, the bugs want to make Spike feel better, because if he keeps brooding, he won’t be fit to be their master any longer. They build him a fake beach (based on a picture taken from one of Buffy’s magazines, which Sebastian calls “periodicals”), hoping that the sun will lift his dark mood. It seems to work, at first, but Spike gets a little angry; why find comfort in something that’s fake?

At this moment, a giant frog and some demons take over the ship, pirate-style. Apparently, they need a ship because they were stranded on the moon following the destruction of the Seed. With the bug ship in their possession, they wish to make Spike walk the plank and take control of the navigation. Direction: Sunnydale. They hope they will find shards of the Seed, shards that may contain remnants of magic. Hopefully it will garner enough magic to send them back “home”.

Spike, however emotionally broken, is still very smart, so he offers to be their guide through the tunnels of the hellmouth. However, he hadn’t planned on the feelings that the place brought to him…

Sunnydale is, to Spike, the closest thing he’s had to a home, though he’s not really ready to admit that to himself.

For me, it’s not really the “place” that makes a home. It’s the people that make it up. From the above panel, I can gather that Spike is starting to feel the same way. For better or worse, Spike created long lasting connections to many people in Sunnydale that had nothing to do with the relationships he had with Dru, Darla or Angel. He lived with Giles, he became a brother/father figure to Dawn, he loved Buffy… You can’t just shed those things. It’s part of his identity, now.

When they finally get to the Seed Chamber, the demons feel Spike cheated them; there’s nothing there. In fact, there is something there, or rather, someone. Morgan, who, as it turns out, is a succubus, also wants her share of the shards to go home. I think we’ve got a recurring theme here… After beating up the demons that stand in their way, both Morgan and Spike set off on their quest to find a home; a metaphorical one for Spike, but for Morgan, it takes the shape of another Hellmouth.

Before they can set off, though, they get interrupted by Nash and Pearl, the recurring villains in Angel & Faith. Here, we learn that Spike and the twins know each other; Spike “saved” Pearl from a Black Widower demon in Rome in 1953. The haven’t seen each other since, and seeing her, completely different from that cowering girl-demon he saved years ago, is a catalyst for Spike to think about how he’s changed.

Later, aboard the ship, he’ll tell Morgan that “there was something very direct about the person [he] used to be. At least [he] knew what he wanted most of the time”. Does he want that again? Is he regretting getting a soul, and all these mixed feelings that came with it? I don’t think he does. These lines come off without the nostalgia that one would expect. It’s like he’s looking through an old yearbook, completely disconnected from the person he was. Essentially, he knows he has another purpose, but he can’t quite put his finger on it yet…

But how did they get on the ship in the first place? Spike knocked the twins out with timing (as they were lunging at him all super-charged, they crashed in a wall), and the bugs grabbed Morgan as they all went into the ship. Morgan asked them to set the course for Easter Island, another hellmouth. At this point, the bugs are worried, though; they don’t know this succubus. Maybe she’ll put Spike under her charm? Maybe she has a shard and wants to open the hellmouth? But Spike ignores this and decides to trust her. As they talk, he learns that she used to be a “courtesan demon”. These demons were women that used to hang around and advise ancient rulers. Soon, though, the conversation comes back to the shards; she needs them. Spike tells her that Buffy asked him to shoot the shards into the sun, to obliterate them. So, he asks her, what’s the purpose of going to a Hellmouth without a key to open it? She still wants to go, so the bugs, listening in, decide that Spike is “under her spell” (ha! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61Wzo2dlIC8) and promise each other that “steps will be taken”.

When they get to the island, there’s a slight shift that happens with Morgan, a shift that mirrors what Spike has been going through.

Sensing that Spike is a powerful man, she wants to become his courtesan demon.

Once he realizes that he’s more talking to Buffy than he is Morgan, he reconsiders. Maybe it would be different with Morgan? Maybe she really could give him a purpose, where he would be the leader and she the follower. I’m thinking that her plan does appeal to his former self, the one that would do anything for action, excitement, and, let’s be honest, a shag. But when they start kissing, he sees the picture of the fake beach from the magazine laying on the ground, and he pushes her away.

This is an important moment for Spike. He realizes that he can’t just “substitute” Buffy. Maybe for the first time, he’s admitting to himself that everything that happened with her defines a bit of himself. If he is to reclaim, or redefine, that bit, he needs to heal by himself, without the help of a succubus.

Morgan is furious; who dares reject her? She changes her mind and decides to go home by herself. Spike tries to reason with her again but, a little too late, he realizes that she already has a shard of the seed. Fighting ensues; the bugs try to capture Morgan with a net to help, but it doesn’t do much good. she crashes out of the ship, lands on the island and vomits up the shard, ready to “crack open” the hellmouth.

In the final issue, Morgan tries to open the Hellmouth by awakening the Easter Island statues; problem is, they don’t answer to her, or anyone. Spike joins her in an attempt to fight them off, but it’s ultimately the bug ship that saves the day. At first, they use the ship’s guns in a scene that is reminiscent of Captain Adama in his Battlestar Galactica (or maybe they were Star Trek references? I wouldn’t know about those). Since that effort isn’t enough, Sebastian commands the bugs to abandon ship and he decides to crash it in the giant statues in a grand gesture of self-sacrifice.

With the ship destroyed and their leader dead, the bugs decide to stay on the island and Morgan, after trying and miserably failing one last time to seduce Spike, leaves in a flap of wings.

After this arc, Spike is effectively unburdened of anything that ties him to his past. He has fled from Buffy, he is no longer the captain of a spaceship, he has no other girl. It’s him, alone, on an island. Yet, the first thing he says when this realization sinks in, is: “I wouldn’t say no to a familiar face”. We know this thought isn’t fake, because it’s devoid of an exterior influence. And it’s here that we understand who Spike really is, without Buffy. He’s a social being. He needs others’ needs to define his life. What he had to discover on this journey was that the “others” don’t have to be “Buffy”. That’s why he’ll take a little detour before returning to San Francisco; we’ll see him next month in Angel&Faith.

What did you all think about Spike: A Dark Place? Do you like that Dark Horse is publishing side stories with specific characters? Are you angry that I haven’t used the term “Spuffy” in my article? Let me know in the comments.

As mentioned briefly before, we’re gearing up for the next installment of the Fantastic Fangirls (Comic) Book Club! For June, we’ve chosen the first trade paperback volume of J. Michael Straczynski’s run on Thor, collecting the first six issues. Here’s how Amazon describes it:

“Thor is back! And in a story only J. Michael Straczynski could tell! Returned to the pantheon of great Marvel heroes, the Asgardian God of Thunder is reunited with the mortal form of Dr. Don Blake. Together, they must reckon with the legacy of the mythic Norse kingdom and the awakening of its immortal heroes – but in a world that may not want them back!”

The book can be purchased here at Amazon, here at Barnes&Noble, here at Powell’s Books, or anywhere graphic novels are sold.

We’ll be having our usual round-table discussion for the book on Wednesday, July 6th, a little over two weeks from today, and we hope you’ll play along in the comments!

Last week Marvel released the five-issue limited series Osborn in trade paperback. This story, a meditation on the complexity of evil, is one of the most audacious, mature stories Marvel comics has produced in the past few years.

General spoilers for the plot of Osborn follow, without specifics.

“Mature” in the world of comics frequently means “depicts sexual acts,” or “has profanity not bleeped out.” Sometimes it means graphic violence or disturbing horror-esque images. More rarely I see mature used to indicate what I wish it more often meant — a story that deals in themes and images relevant to adults. This adult use of mature seems to be the comics niche that Kelly Sue DeConnick is carving out for herself.

We at Fantastic Fangirls really like DeConnick’s work. Her Sif one-shot was a fabulous, in-character look at how you reclaim your life after your body has been used as a toy by others. Rescue is a story of heroism and impostor syndrome, of refusing to let others define you. These stories, and her other works, are fast-paced action tales whose inner engines are human nature. They are mature, adult stories — less concerned with finding one’s place in the world for the first time and more concerned with how to live with yourself once you are there. The worst thing I have come up with to say about DeConnick’s work, so far, is that when she misses that mark she writes perfectly solid action stories. Osborn does not miss that mark.

The story of Osborn is a heist, with Norman Osborn as the object being stolen; a Maltese Falcon who can move itself. In brief, the Senate Subcommittee on Human Rights and the Law is trying to decide what to do with Norman Osborn. They can’t bring him to trial, and they can’t hold him without charge. Meanwhile, reporter Norah Winters is trying to make amends for her failure to expose Osborn during his tenure as leader of H.A.M.M.E.R and the Avengers. When she receives a tip regarding his status and location, she follows the lead. Osborn, however, wants to stand trial, wants his day in court to share all the dirty secrets he holds. He wants to be a martyr in the public eye. What happens next moves very quickly, but is absolutely worth the reader’s time.

The plot of Osborn is ambitious. Every named character has motivations and an agenda. These agendas align with and counter each other over the course of the five issues, fluidly changing who is doing what to whom and why. Some alliances are made very explicit, others require a bit more work from the reader. Supervillain Carney Rives’s role in the story, for instance, and the implications of his “indenture,” went by me when I was reading the issues. After reading the trade I understand who he was working for. Most of the plot points, though, are perfectly comprehensible.

For all the tight plotting, however, the engine of the story isn’t the jailbreak. The engine of the story, the thing the story is about that is told through a heist/jailbreak, is how people respond to evil. In Norman Osborn’s oubliette we have five supervillains, a priest/cultist, and a jailer. Each one represents a different kind of evil. In Congress we have another sort of evil. The purest motivations I can find in the story are the self-interested, guilty impulses of Norah Winters — as a reporter, she truly believes that it is her responsibility to speak truth to power. Yet she’s not blind to how a fantastic story could make her career.

DeConnick’s Osborn is presented to the reader by a talented art team unafraid to take creative chances. First off, Clayton Cowles does a fantastic job on lettering. DeConnick’s dialog is complex, wordy, and overlapping, and Cowles never leaves the reader confused as to the correct word balloon order. I’d also like to mention that Jose Villarrubia does a fantastic job on the colors. They are dark and shaded without being muddy, there’s no profligate use of highlights to draw the eye to cheesecake, and the color-themes of each scene and character helped me keep track of the rapid changes in setting — especially during phone conversations between characters. None of that would matter, though, if Emma Rios and Becky Cloonan had not turned in fantastic art. Rios, and Cloonan in issue five, demonstrate a solid understanding of conventional comics layouts and panel progression. This is required, considering the dynamic changes in “camera angle,” point of view, and focus from panel to panel on each page. Yet it is in the atypical pages that we see Rios’ fearlessness. Pages without panel borders, fight scenes played out along diagonals, panels divided by sound effects, double-page spreads of simultaneous action over physical space rather than over time. This is audacious for Marvel comics. Audacious, welcome, and successful.

Osbron contains the realistic, mature storytelling I crave in my comics. Stories about consequences, about human frailty, about how, sometimes, we are not the heroes we really meant to be. Yet we go on. Sondra Muffoletto must now live with her compromise-stained soul, however good her intentions may have been. Norah Winters must live with her journalistic failures during Dark Reign, and her nagging sense that she has somehow failed again.

Yet Osborn is not without hope. It’s human-sized hope, not super-hero-sized, and that’s just fine with me. I cannot aspire to be Rescue, nor will I ever save the multiverse. I can, however, try to live according to Norah Winters’ closing creed. This is the advice she gives to Sarah, after all is said and done and the weight of failure hangs heavy in the air:

“Let’s see … what have we learned today? Turns out the world is full of bogeymen … liars and thieves. They all think they’re special, more deserving than the rest of us. And they’re doing their best to make a space for themselves inside your head. You can’t let that happen. You do that and before you know it, you start to become one of them. And that — along with the low pay and crappy hours – is what you get for doing this job, Sarah. Every day you get to shine a light onto something that wants to pull you into the dark.”

You don’t get thanked. You don’t get to be a hero. What you get is you continue plugging along, doing your best to hold the line against evil in all its forms and guises. This is mature comics. This is adult comics. This is Kelly Sue DeConnick and Emma Rios’s Osborn.

by Sigrid

Email: sigrid @ fantasticfangirls.org
Twitter: sigridellis

I will give you one spoiler, non-plot-related, for this week’s X-23 #8.

Laura Kinney likes spicy food.

That detail is at the heart of why I am loving Marjorie M. Liu’s X-23.

Laura Kinney, aka X-23, has a checkered past. The important parts are as follows: Laura was raised under conditions of hideous physical, mental, and emotional abuse. She was forced to commit murders as a child. After her escape she made a living as a specialized prostitute. She eventually found herself with the X-Men, where she was used as a weapon on a secret murder team. Laura has, with the start of this title, left the X-Men. She wants to spend some time without anyone telling her who she is, and what she should be.

The checkered past I refer to up above is not in reference to her origin story — which is only really marginally more confusing or dramatic than that of many characters — but to how her writers have handled these facts. She has been written as a nearly mute killing machine. She has been written as an awkward teenage girl with a crush. She has been written as nearly animalistic. She has been written as an irrecoverable victim. And she has been written as a young woman surviving, searching for her true self. It’s that last version I like. It’s what Liu delivers.

Dealing with an abusive backstory is a tricky thing. As a reader I object to a character being reduced to nothing more than the sum of their abuse. I also object to completely ignoring it. Both of those paths have been taken in the past. Liu gives us, instead, a young woman fully aware of her problems yet determined to find a way to make a life that works.

Liu’s Kinney is seeking self-knowledge. She wants to understand herself, all the parts of her. The space and peace for that self-knowledge have never been available to Laura before. She is tired of being the reflection of others’ expectations — tired of being a weapon, a child, a victim, a burden, a student, a time bomb. She knows she is all of those things, certainly, but knows that’s not the end. There is more to Laura Kinney than the sum of her damage.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Gambit at some point in this review. I’ve made my views on Gambit fairly clear in the past, so I’ll simply say —

– I kinda like the guy, here. It’s because he’s not being romantic. Remy, you may recall, made his first — highly effective — appearance as a sort of older brother to Storm. (Who had been turned into a child. If you don’t know how or why, don’t ask.) This was always a good role for Remy. His smarm is less evident when he’s not trying to get into someone’s pants. And he truly does understand, deeply, what it is to be used as a weapon. Gambit knows what it is to be conditioned and controlled and forced to kill. And both he and Laura prefer to solve their introspection issues through useful action instead of moping around. It’s a good fit.

In the first eight issues of X-23 we have seen pirates, shark-punching, Daken, Miss Sinister, Madripoor, and clones. Through all of this Laura is struggling to make decisions in an attempt to prove to herself that she can be good, be ethical, be a whole person who does good in the world, on her own. This is a highly compelling narrative. Laura is heroic not in spite of but because of her past.

Oh, so where does the spicy food come into it? I’ll let you read this week’s issue yourself. It’s the kind of character detail I love, integrating the past into the present and making both richer.

Thank you, Ms. Liu, for taking up Laura Kinney’s story. I appreciate it.

by Sigrid

Email: sigrid @ fantasticfangirls.org
Twitter: sigridellis