Green Lantern / Green Arrow Reviews

The Masked Bookwyrm's Graphic Novel (& TPB) Reviews

Green Lantern / Green Arrow ~ Page One
for a complete alphabetical list of ALL reviews start here
A - B - C - D - E - F - G - H - I - J - K - L - M - N - O - P - Q - R - S - T - U - V - W - X - Y - Z

Green Lantern Published by DC Comics
Far Sector (2021) 306 pages
Written by N.K. Jemisin. Illustrated and coloured by Jamal Campbell.
Letters: Deron Bennett.
Reprinting: Far Sector #1-12 (2019-2021)
Rating: * * 1/2 (out of 5)
Additional notes: intro by Gerard Way, the editor and overseer of DC's Young Animal line (of which Far Sector is one); interview with Jemisin & Campbell; covers and variant covers; character and design sketches.
Suggested for mature readers
Number of readings: 1
Review posted: June 2024.
This is the paradox of some comics (or books, movies, etc.). Because I genuinely think a second reading might influence my feelings about it. I think part of my difficulty with Far Sector was both trying to get a handle on what Jemisin was going for (in terms of the story, how much it was a metaphor and for what) and that I found Campbell's art, though beautiful, hard to process, interfering with the flow of the story. Having read it once, and now knowing the characters, where the plot is headed, I suspect I'd find it flowed better a second time. But equally -- it's very long and though I ultimately didn't dislike it, it didn't instill in me the enthusiasm to jump back into it for a re-read.
Maybe a couple of years down the line. Who knows?
But here's my initial take on it -- for what it's worth.
I should start out by saying I'm not really sure what DC's Young Animal imprint entails, though I'm guessing it's meant as a slightly edgier off-shoot of the DCU (there's some hard profanity in this series).
Far Sector is a variation of the Green Lantern mythos, but is mainly a science fiction series only tangentially connected to the DCU. The focus is on Sojourner "Jo" Mullein, a young African-American woman and the latest addition to the Green Lantern Corps (and there's no real explanation here for why she was chosen, and I don't think she was introduced in another comic -- but this may be part of the current Green Lantern mythos; as a character remarks at one point, by this point earth just seems to be home to a lot of GLs!) And Jo's assignment is that she is sent to a distant world to act as the local Green Lantern.
It's a society built out of the ashes of a couple of previous ones on an artificially maintained world. The culture is composed of three co-habituating species: humanoid plants; sentient AIs; and a relatively human-looking group (well, except for tails and wings and extra fingers -- but human-looking enough to provide romantic distractions for Jo). The crux of the culture -- and the ensuing troubles -- is that the society takes emotion suppressing drugs that has allowed the previously violent society to function without much strife for centuries; however a new illegal drug has started proliferating that unlocks suppressed emotions.
And the story begins with Jo called in to help investigate the first murder that's occurred in generations.
It starts out seeming like it's going to be a sci-fi hard-boiled detective mystery ala Blade Runner (opening with Jo and the cops standing over a body on a dark, rainy, backstreet). But the focus is much more political as there is social unrest, protests and riots to be confronted, and shady machinations within the ruling council to preoccupy her.
And I'll admit it didn't work for me as well as I had hoped -- or as the mostly good reviews I read of this led me to anticipate.
N.K. Jemisin is an award winning SF/F novelist (I've read works by her before) tackling -- I believe -- her first comics work. She takes to the medium well, with little sense of struggling to adjust from straight prose to the more visual medium. And the art by Jamal Campbell is unique and genuinely gorgeous to look at -- but that's not to say it isn't a problem in its own way.
Part of the problem with Far Sector is trying to get a sense of what they are going for -- possibly my reactions at times were a result of me looking for something that wasn't there, or not seeing what was. In other words: maybe it was a me-problem more than a them-problem.
In the introduction by Gerard Way (rock star-turned-occasional-comics pro) he effuses about how imaginative and mind-blowing it was. Yet a problem I found was how, well, familiar and generic the world and the themes seemed. But equally: that is the point, especially when sci-fi is used as metaphor for our real world problems. And Jo herself comments how people are the same no matter where you are. But that relates to my point about how to read it. Is it supposed to be an imaginative foray into an alien culture -- or is it supposed to be a fairly familiar world (of cops and politicians and illicit drug trades) dressed up in sci-fi allegory?
Likewise, Jo is a Black woman. And the creators are Black. So you might expect this to be a subversion or re-imagining of traditionally "white" SF themes. An example of that is many of the humanoid aliens look Black -- presumably a sly dig at the way in most sci-fi with humanoid aliens (in Star Trek, Star Wars, novels, etc.) they're just assumed to be white. Yet in other ways this mostly just recreates the standard tropes, only with a Back woman lead. Jo falls into the White saviour archetype and the Chosen One trope (as I say: there's no real explanation for why Jo is given a ring, or why she is innately such a hero). There's even elements I found disheartening, even problematic, with Jo making snide comments about alien names, their culture, and evincing a general smug superiority that borders on xenophobic.
Put another way (dare I say it?): Jemisin (and Campbell) may bring a Black (and, in Jemisin's case, female) perspective --- but they also retain a very American perspective, infused with American exceptionalism.
But again -- that relates to how we read the story. Viewed as one allegory: Jo is an American heroine in a metaphorically foreign culture; viewed as another allegory: she is a Black woman in a metaphor for American/Western culture.
Which I suppose is the problem in modern pop culture. We are at a time when traditionally white male characters and creators are finally making room for marginalized voices -- just as we are also beginning to question the traditional narrative archetypes (of Chosen Ones, etc.)
But the bouncing around trying to figure out what's the metaphor and what's just part of the story, and what the metaphor represents also means the story feels a bit like Jemisin is trying to tackle important, topical, hot button issues -- and then kind of backs off. But whether that's her own ideology, or pressure from DC, or whether it was never meant to be that serious, I'm not sure. But the story is rife with themes involving racial and class issues (the culture is made up of the three ethnic groups), with scenes of peace officers using lethal force on protestors (until Jo intervenes), and more. But often in a way where it feels just as we start to get into something -- the story then quickly moves on and it's unclear how deeply we were meant to view it or how closely we were supposed to link it to current real world politics.
Toward the climax there is a political upheaval and the story ends up presenting the police as defenders of the citizenry against the military -- when, um, I don't know, but I know a lot of (minority) people who, if pressed, would probably trust the military over the police in such cases. Jo herself is presented as being both an ex-soldier and an ex-cop -- and though in both cases it leads to some criticism of those institutions (Jo having first hand witnessed police brutality) it does seem a bit curious in a series about a Black woman heroine to make her a cop and soldier. (Given issues the Black community often has with the police and policing).
It feels like the comic is trying to be political -- while also trying not to be too political.
But as a story it just felt like I'd seen too much of this before. I don't mean in terms of specifics, or that it's imitative. I just mean in terms of general themes and tropes, with its mix of sci-fi police thriller, cyperpunk (with scenes in cyberspace and a deliberate nod to The Matrix), and the alien society itself. (A funny aspect to the world building is the initial premise was the world is at the farthest reaches of the Green Lanterns influence...yet it turns out they have access to earth media and there's a whole sub-plot about a traffic in earth internet memes and cat videos! But maybe the initial idea pitched by Gerard Way was this remote world but when working on the plot Jemisin decided it needed to be less isolated).
The problem I sometimes can find with sci-fi allegories is that if the parallels are too close (drugs, cops) it can lose the point of being a sci-fi fantasy. While in other ways the story struggles to realize its own ideas. To be honest, I was never really sure of the ultimate motive of the villains (there's a lot about them wanting to hold onto power -- but it wasn't clear how their power was being threatened by the referendum) or despite the whole idea of a society where everyone has suppressed emotions, the characters didn't really seen that emotionless. Although I suppose that was the point: their emotions weren't being eliminated, merely subdued. It felt like an idea on paper that they were having trouble conceptualizing in the story.
And for such a long saga, there weren't that many principal characters -- and even then, many weren't that well realized, or made much use of. I mean when the main villain is revealed...it doesn't have much impact because the character had barely made an impression earlier.
And Jo herself is -- well, is basically fine but fairly non-descript. She's even a bit inconsistent (sometimes a snarky badass, sometimes a kind of plucky everywoman).
Basically I get back to a point I've made a few times in my various reviews of modern comics: it probably would've been better shorter. Maybe eight issues rather than twelve.
And then we get to the art. The art is -- look, I'll say it: it's beautiful and stunning and every panel could be hung up in a gallery.
The problem is that doesn't necessarily make it good comic book art. I found a lot of it hard to process. Between Campbell's slightly styled approach to characters in general, the use of alien body types, the stylized buildings and object shapes, and the way it's all coloured in soft pastels that blend into each other, I often found myself struggling to understand what I was looking at. The action scenes especially, but even just scenes of people walking down a hall, or of flying cars skimming through the air. Or even just characters sitting and talking. Comic book art is both pretty pictures but also part of the storytelling. And if with many panels you find yourself having to carefully examine the image, it kind of slows down the story -- and starts to feel more like work than entertainment. And yes I'm sure many people will roll their eyes at these comments given how highly praised the comic, and the art, is, and they'll insist they had no trouble. But all I can do is review this from my perspective and I think part of the problem I had with Jemisin's story was just struggling with the visuals. Even though, and I stress this, I'm the first to say Campbell is a phenomenally talented guy and the art was frequently breathtaking.
The result overall was just a weird mix of finding the comic both hard to follow, to pick up on the world building specifics, the characters, the themes, the visuals -- while simultaneously finding it all a bit familiar and unsurprising and even generic.
In that sense, maybe I'm looking at this glass as half empty. Because in other respects it was certainly okay; Jemisin adjusts to the comic book storytelling easily, the dialogue is sometimes witty, the pacing decent enough. Maybe I just expected more than was being offered.
Or maybe I just didn't "get" it.

Flash & Green Lantern: The Brave and the Bold 2001(SC TPB) 144 pgs.
Written by Mark Waid, Tom Peyer. Illustrated by Barry Kitson, Tom Grindberg.
Colors: Lovern Kindzierski. Letters: Ken Lopez. Editor: Peter Tomasi, L.A. Williams.
Reprinting: the six issue 1999-2000 mini-series (with covers)
Rating: * * * * 1/2 (out of 5)
Number of readings: 2
Whenever comics folks instigate major, "shocking" changes into the mythos -- they often seem to forget that today's fan can become tomorrow's professional. And nostalgia is a powerful motive. So even though, when this mini-series was first published, DC had "irrevocably" killed off the Silver Age Flash (Barry Allen) and had corrupted and then killed off the Silver Age Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), writers like Mark Waid and Tom Peyer weren't quite prepared to give up on them and produced this nostalgia tinged retro series. Of course, nothing is ever really permanent in comics, no matter what one writer or editorial regime says, because regimes change, and "hot" writers rise up through the ranks with a burning affection for their childhood heroes, supplanting the previous "hot" writer. Both Hal and Barry have since returned to life in the DCU. But, as I say, when this was published, they were both dead -- and it was assumed forever -- and this was an affectionate throwback: a tribute to a past era(s).
Originally published as a six issue mini-series, it presents six adventures chronicling the friendship between the Silver Age Flash, Barry Allen, and the Silver Age Green Lantern, Hal Jordan -- a friendship that had been introduced in the old comics and was part of the mythos.
Co-writer Mark Waid has played the nostalgia card often, such as 1998s JLA: Year One mini-series which he co-wrote with Brian Augustyn and 2000s The Silver Age mini-series, in which Waid was a driving force among a number of writers. Both projects were of mixed success. Here, Waid re-teams with frequent collaborator, artist Barry Kitson, and they are joined by co-writer Tom Peyer.
The result? A fantastic success.
Waid & Peyer do a nice job of couching the character stuff in plots, recognizing that character is best demonstrated in the context of surrounding events -- and vice versa (rather than ten pages of characters explaining their motives and emotions followed by ten pages of mindless fighting). The plots are, for the most part, interesting, briskly paced and presenting the characters with tricky situations that require a bit of thinking their way through (and frequently drawing upon their combined skills, making it a true "team up"), and stories that unfold, with twists and turns -- stories that actually are stories. It borrows the better elements from Silver Age writers like John Broome and Gardner Fox, but spruced up with modern character exploration, and a healthy dose of wit and humour as well. Sure, the desire to work some emotional subtext into the tales can, at times, border on hokey, but it allows each tale to feel richer and deeper than the average, each issue functioning simultaneously as a plot, where we're excited to see how the danger is thwarted...and as a character drama.
It's the ideal homage -- evoking the spirit of days gone by, while gently keeping it in step with modern, arguably sophisticated expectations. Even Waid's tendency to write these ostensibly adult, professional characters occasionally like they're immature teenagers didn't grate as much as it had in JLA: Year One or The Silver Age. And that's more in the early issues anyway, as though Waid & Peyer are trying to convey a sense of the characters maturing over the course of the stories. And Waid doesn't fall into the trap of certain other post-Crisis GL writers whose desire to turn Hal into a womanizing super stud can border on misogynistic. Indeed, the whole sub-text here, that Hal's personal life is constantly teetering on the edge, is a nice contrast with the modern take on him as the super confident alpha dog (and is more reflective of the character in the Silver and Bronze Age).
The stories alternate between earth-based and space oriented adventures, all deliberately evoking specific periods in the characters' history (particularly demonstrated by Hal's job and love interest changing from story to story...in contrast with Barry's more stable private life). The first two issues conjure up a sense of old Broome or Fox style stories, with #1 steeped in a nice sci-fi idea, and #2 throwing Kid Flash into the mix (as stories from that period often did) and a couple of super-villains just being, well, super-villains. While #5 nicely feels like a Bronze Age tale (ie: late 1970s).
Issue #4 is set amid the classic Denny O'Neil/Neal Adams socially relevant run on Green Lantern/Green Arrow, when he was teamed with Green Arrow, and it has the two greenies hooking up with the Flash (something that didn't happen in those old stories). There's a social issue to be examined (albeit in a fantastical way) and for that story regular artist Kitson hands the pencilling chores over to Tom Grindberg -- an artist with a style decidedly reminiscent of Neal Adams. Though not flawless (Waid & Peyer lift a few too many lines from O'Neil) the result seems eerily like a "lost" O'Neil/Adams story. There's also ambitious character stuff, in that an undercurrent to the story is that the Flash is jealous of GL's friendship with GA...but it's never fully articulated. You almost have to read between the lines.
Because the series goes the unusual route of being self-contained stories, it's worth picking up even if you can only find one or two issues. All are satisfying reads on their own. The third issue is a "character" issue, where the plot, and the adventure, is minimal. But Waid & Peyer pull it off well, making it still a light, entertaining read as Flash and GL go camping with their older, Golden Age counterparts on an alien world, encountering misadventures more than adventures.
After an initial reading, I felt the weakest was the final issue. Though even it was perfectly good. In my initially posted review I said it was a bit confusing but, I'll admit, after a second reading I saw less of that. Maybe I just read it in a better frame of mine now, or maybe I'm just more aware of the surrounding mythos than I had been (as it involves GL's old foe, Star Sapphire). But I liked it more the second time around. And one can admire the fact that, though reflecting the grittiness of later periods (it's set shortly after the death of the Flash's wife -- though didn't she come back eventually, too?) it still takes place long before the more contentious upheavals that soured the comics for some readers.
The beautiful art by Barry Kitson is of a nicely disciplined, realist variety that suits the stories well, though he maybe bulks up the characters a tad. Villain Sinestro looks more like a linebacker than the lean, mean, red-faced baddie I remember. Indeed, this may be some of the best work I've seen by Kitson -- maybe inking himself brings out extra nuance and moody texture to the lines. Or maybe he was just particularly enthusiastic about this project.
There are some missed opportunities: no guest appearance by another Flash buddy, The Elongated Man, and little use of fellow Green Lanterns (save in one story, and then only in passing). But they do appear, as do the Guardians, various familiar arch foes, and cameoes by one or two supporting characters from the different periods. And the issues range from good to very good, and that's more than one can say about six consecutive issues of, well, almost any title one might care to pick up. There's not a mediocre tale in the bunch.
Seeing these two as a team reminds you how well they looked together, with the simple-but-effective costume designs (some pundits have argued the Silver Age GL's costume, designed by Gil Kane, was one of the more aesthetically pleasing in comics history) and the dynamically contrasting colours: the Flash's (bright) red and yellow, and GL's (dark) green and black. And their powers complemented: GL who could do almost anything contrasted with The Flash who had only one power (but made the most of it). Heck, they both even used rings!
Whether at the time this fired modern readers with an interest in these then-dead Silver Age icons, it's hard to say. Ironically, even now, years later and with both Hal and Barry back appearing in comics, this run of issues can still make you nostalgic for an earlier era -- of clever, self-contained plots, and compassionate heroes, where mindless violence hasn't become a synonym for "adventure".
It's worth checking out just for the fun and the solid storytelling that is, frankly, missing from a lot of modern comics -- as each single issue provides a complete story of adventure, character arc, and thematic threads. For older fans, this is nostalgia done right, mixing the best of yesterday and today. You may not be able to go home again, but Flash & Green Lantern: The Brave and the Bold comes pretty darn close. font>

On to Green Lantern / Green Arrow Reviews Page TWO
or
Back to