Batwoman's "Elegy" Is Beautiful Swan Song
It's no secret that we at PinkKryptonite loved Detective Comics issues 864 through 860, Greg Rucka and JH Williams III's "landmark collaboration" on Batwoman, as the dust cover of the "Elegy" hardcover states. It's an elegy for its redemptive heroine and her upbringing, and it's one of the most eloquent, heartfelt books to tackle the rise of a gay crusader. I can only praise this book; This isn't a review as much as it is an analysis of what this book does so damn well.
For Greg Rucka, it's all about the characters. As much as I love the Alice character, the book shines in its second-half examination of Kate's most pivotal moments. That said, Alice was an excellent challenge for the writer, for the way in which she kept an air of mystery, coming in to serve as head of the religion of crime and never revealing more through her Looking Glass quotes. We never see much of Beth even in flashback, but then again, the second-half is intent on putting Kate through the wringer, making her a victim of terrorism, kicking her out of West Point, and wandering with her as she seeks a purpose. Batwoman isn't nearly as much a character as her alter ego. There's a bit of everything in the book, from detective bits to supernatural involvement. Colonel Kane's military coldness is overbearing on anyone he interacts with, and even the Jewish Kabbalah haunts the book, though it's only mentioned once, it's a definitive shaper of Kate's morality, and gives the book its architecture.
It isn't enough to marvel at JH Williams III's art, and praise the work for its intricate pencilling and stylistic versatility. What he provides for us in this story is a complete visual narrative, fleshed out with a personal symbology and detailed instructions on how to read it. The collected edition allows you to read these connections more easily, from the "Go" arc's obsession with circular objects to the panel break-down of all the fight scenes; Whether they occur during Kate's tenure as Batwoman or during her first alleyway assault, they're always fragmented moments encapsulated in panels that would move by themselves if you were on Alice's narcotics. Yet I found the most amazing element of William's sequences comes from the panel layout, the way smaller insets break up the eye's rhythm of reading the page. Williams plays with their form, and consequentially, their function- thin red outlines within a larger panel highlight actions and nuances, bat-shaped asides seem to hover above scenes of a river rescue, forcing me to take in fragments of the scenery before reaching the end of the spread and looking back at the grander picture in amazement.
The content at the end is a nice addition, variant covers and four pages' worth of script, giving an interesting look at how writer and artist collaborated together, with demands for drawings that are "Iconic. More an art element... than an actual storytelling panel." These two men really put their best into making an art book about an excellent subject, a requiem for a character that JH Williams III isn't ready to leave, that you couldn't leave after investing so much care and attention to, as this book proves. I'm convinced that as Greg Rucka's sitting there working on his other stories, there's a real Batwoman residing in his memory waiting for her reprise.
Rubber Justice
Posted to Comics on 12 July 2010
· Comments (2)
Other stuff like this: Batwoman, Detective Comics, Greg Rucka, Hardcover, JH Williams III
I want Batwoman back in print *Cries*
Its just such a shame not to have her in a regular series of her own, especially without Rucka at the helm (back to Stumptown I guess....)
> back to Stumptown I guess
...assuming Stumptown ever finds a regular publishing schedule. I love Rucka and I loved his Batwoman and I love Stumptown but when I talk about them I inevitably fall into a bitter little pity party along the lines of "if he wanted to quit DC to focus on his own work then he ought to at least publish his own work on a regular schedule" because I am a selfish, selfish reader. It's a diatribe with love at its core, though.