The Inhumans have always been an interesting set of Marvel Comics characters. Their creation obviously was a construct of several themes going beyond just muscular-bound men and buxom women “pow-ing” and “zapping” their way through the panels. Through their adventures, many writers have explored the themes of monarchies, family, social status, genealogy, inheritance, individuality, genetics, and history, just name a few.
I have always had a fondness for the character of Black Bolt, who, by inheritance was king, but, through the Terrigen mist, was essentially mute because the single whispered word passed through his mouth causes destruction, a symbol of the unforeseen consequences a ruler has when he speaks. In addition to having to govern over his people, he has to contend with his insane brother, Maximus, who seeks to dethrone Black Bolt and take his place.
In recent Marvel history, Black Bolt has suffered under the weight of his throne, such that he was required to destroy his kingdom and accede his throne to his wife, Medusa, from whom he is now separated.
Black Bolt #1 finds finds Black Bolt imprisoned upon some kind of prison planet without the power behind his voice. He is as his lowest point, degraded, tortured, and in chains, which is a great place to start this series. It is east to see that the writer, Saladin Ahmed, intends Black Bolt to work his way back to preeminence, to reclaim the honor he has lost of the last few years.
Ahmed begins the issue with the reader reliving a sort of penance suffered by Black Bolt, the demand that Black Bolt reveal his crimes and repent them. Cleverly, it reminds the reader that Black Bolt has recently failed his people and that he is a flawed person. It is also ironic because, at least the reader believes, that Black Bolt is unable to name his crimes for merely whispering brings destruction and worse. The reader can’t help to suspect that this is why he has been muzzled.
Yet, when Black Bolt does not name his crimes or repent them, he is subjected to shocking torture. This happens multiple times, three for the reader, but imaginably much more than that.
He escapes his bonds and fights with other inmates of the prison, namely the Absorping Man. He ultimately fights the warden of the prison planet, a hulking figure reminiscent of death and finds that he can speak without consequence and that he can die and be brought back from the dead. It is a mystery from which he feels he cannot escape.
The prison-like feel is wonderfully captured by the artist, Christian Ward, whose panels portray a world very much enclosed and dark. There are no open spaces. Rather, inside panels, Ward uses the additional framing of arches and columns and floor tiles to give the reader a sense of entrapment. At one point, he devises a page reflective of Escher’s Relativity, showing Black Bolt wandering through the maze of the prison. Inside the maze, eyeballs standby peering on his progress.
Ward also develops a feel of an Inhuman book and the legacy look that such a book should include. He utilizes the colors readers of Inhuman books are use to, to wit, the dark blues and yellows. On the walls of the prison, the history is painted, suggestive of tapestries hung in medieval castles. All the pictures serve to situate the reader back into the ongoing saga of not only Black Bolt, but the Inhumans as well.
There have many complaints about Marvel’s recent titles, the weakness of the stories, the quality of the art. Black Bolt defies this generalization by providing a very cohesive and beautiful start to the series.
Comments
Post a Comment