Elektra #4

To pick up where we left off in yesterday's post, which was October 1982, I was walking home down Telegraph Avenue one sunny afternoon (it might have even been the same day that I sat near Ron Rivera and heard him sing "Should I Stay or Should I Go") when I stopped at 7/11 and perused the comic-book rack. The title I picked up was Daredevil by Frank Miller.

It sort of blew me away. I had stopped reading comic books in high school, a period of time which coincided with the controversial ascent of Jim Shooter as Editor-in-Chief at Marvel. To me Marvel comic books had become flat, shiny, corporate, reflecting the swing to the Right that was underway in the country as Reaganism locked in. (Briefly, during the summer between my junior and senior year in high school I collected Moon Knight. I was not drawn to the title because of its creative potency; rather, as a onetime avid reader of Werewolf By Night, I was intrigued that a villain from its pages would get his own comic book.)

What was stunning about the Daredevil that I held in my hands that sunny afternoon in a 7/11 on Telegraph was how alive and edgy and real it seemed to me, the complete opposite of the cereal box splashiness that had taken hold since the Bicentennial.

Finally, the woman manning the register ran me off by saying, "Excuse me. This is not a library."

One of the hallmarks of Frank Miller's historic run on Daredevil (#158, May 1979 to #191, February 1983) is the introduction of the character Elektra, a female ninja. Her death, hoisted on her own sai, at the hand's of Daredevil villain Bullseye is one of those key Marvel moments in the collective consciousness of its readership.

Since Elektra appeared after I had stopped reading comic books, I am not fully briefed on her backstory. She strikes me as a female version of The Punisher: a baleful, slightly unhinged assassin; or, a darker Black Widow, one without the security clearance or national security state credentials.

Last Saturday I finished the first five issues of the All-New Marvel NOW! Elektra. It was a real treat. The story by W. Haden Blackman of Elektra on the trail of super-assassin Cape Crow who happens to be hunted by a bevy of other super-assassins, one of whom is the psychopath serial killer cannibal Bloody Lips, is economical and compelling, like a classic Doc Savage pulp serial.

The art of Michael Del Mundo is a revelation, a comic book Gustav Klimt. To see what I mean, check out the scans below from Elektra #4. Elektra and Bloody Lips battle underwater while tripping out because unbeknownst to them a precog empath is fiddling with their minds: