After the Rain is the first book to come out of Abrams' Megascope imprint, headed up by John Jennings. The book's colophon page includes this description: "Megascope is dedicated to showcasing speculative works by and about people of color, with a focus on science fiction, fantasy, horror, and stories of magical realism... Megascope will serve as a lens through wwhich we can broaden our view of history, the present, and the future, and as a method by which previously unheard voices can find their way to an ever-growing diverse audience." The story in After the Rain, not surprisingly then, is an adaptation of Nnedi Okorafor's 2013 short story, "On the Road."

The story opens with Chioma, a former Chicago cop, visiting her family in Nigeria. After a seemingly random encounter with a young boy with so many visible wounds that he shouldn't even be alive, Chioma finds herself dealing with a series of increasingly horrific nightmares. Both imagined and real. Though somewhat vague at first, these horrors seem to coalesce in form more and more until she finds herself dragged out onto the street, with her hands chopped off, and staring down a kaiju-sized monster made out of asphalt and wearing an Agbogho Mmuo mask. She manages to escape, only to confront her own mortality -- and morality -- by way of coming to terms with some memories of her own past. She eventually leaves Nigeria for her home, more appreciative and embracing of her dual-heritage.

That description doesn't really do the story justice, of course. It's hardly the simplisitic plot structure of good conquering evil that you might find in most mainstream stories. Which is a large part of the point. Commercial storytelling has very strongly embraced Joseph Campbell's "hero's journey" concept so much so that it's hard to find any story from the past several decades that doesn't rely on that structure to some degree. (I initially mistook the 2004 film Steamboy as a blatant rip-off of the original Star Wars, before I realized that, no, they were both just relying on the same structure that Campbell outlined.) There's nothing wrong with Campbell's structure per se, but it's relied on so heavily and so exclusively, it makes a lot of commercial storytelling boring.

After the Rain largely eschews that structure, though. While Chioma does go on a hero's journey of sorts, it incorporates a fair dose of Nigerian traditions, making this stand out considerably. I haven't read Okorafor's original to speak to how faithfully Jennings and artist David Brame have adapted it here, but it certainly flowed smoothly on its own. Brame's style isn't dissimilar to Jennings' own, so I expect they had an easy working relationship, at least as far as the storytelling is concerned. I found it particularly interesting, too, that despite much of the book relying on Chioma's narration in the form of captions, it didn't feel as much like illustrated prose as I've seen with other graphic novels recently. I suspect this is in part because the narration is a little more necessary here since Chioma is by herself much of the time. When she's in the presence of others, it does pick up more with integrated dialogue.

Okorafor has already gotten some attention from her work on LaGuardia (with Tana Ford) and a variety of Black Panther related books from Marvel. Launching the Megascope line with a story of hers that is more centrally about her family's culture feels 100% appropriate, and I'm eager to see more works under this banner. After the Rain was released last month and retails for $22.99 US.

Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...

Kleefeld on Comics: Harriet Tubman Fighter for Freedom Review
https://ift.tt/3rbyi4p

Kleefeld on Comics: The Impact of Judgment Day in 2021
https://ift.tt/3pHERvc

Kleefeld on Comics: Black History Month Comic Suggestion
https://ift.tt/2O42Vun

Kleefeld on Comics: Golden Legacy Harriet Tubman Review
https://ift.tt/3cJnWEO

Kleefeld on Comics: Comics Calendar
https://ift.tt/2MF5y5t

Another sporadic installment of upcoming online comics events. As always, start times are listed in the time zone I'm given; please check against your own time zones.

• February 5, 2:00pm ET
  How to Get People Wildly Obsessed with Your Creative Work
  You want to be known and be paid for your creative work — not for what you do in your day job or client work, but for the work and ideas you’re passionate about, that you know need to find a place in the world. Join Jessica Abel for this FREE training that could be seriously life changing if you’ve been struggling to build an audience and Authentic Visibility for yourself and your creative work.
• February 8, 7:00pm ET
  Catana Chetwynd: In Love & Pajamas
  Join Catana Chetwynd as she presents her newest book In Love & Pajamas: A Collection of Comics about Being Yourself Together. When you've reached that sweatpants-wearing cozy place in your relationship, it's all In Love & Pajamas! This brand-new collection of Catana Comics presents 50 percent never-before-seen comics and some fan favorites that delight and amuse readers of all ages. Tickets are $20.99 US, but include a physical copy of the book.

• February 13, 3:00pm ET
  Tell No Tales Launch Party
  Sam Maggs says, "Come celebrate with me & Kendra Wells for arr piratey new book!!"
• February 16, 5:30 pm CT
  John Jennings and David Brame Virtual Conversation
  Rain Taxi is proud to present a virtual conversation with John Jennings and David Brame, the adaptor and illustrator, respectively, of the debut title from MEGASCOPE, a new line of graphic novels from Abrams ComicArts dedicated to showcasing speculative works by and about people of color. After the Rain is a graphic novel adaptation of Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy Award–winning novelist Nnedi Okorafor’s short story “On the Road.” The presenters will discuss the new book, new imprint, and the importance of increasing access to great speculative writing by people of color. Free to attend, registration required.
• February 16, 5:00pm PT
  Julia Kaye in Conversation With Shena Wolf
  My Life in Transition is a story that’s not often told about trans lives: what happens beyond the early days of transition. After the nerve-wracking, anxiety-ridden early transition period has ended and the hormones have done their thing, this book shows how you can be trans and simply exist in society. You can be trans and have a successful future. You can be trans and have a normal life full of ups and downs. In our current political and social climate, this hopeful, accessible narrative about trans lives is both entertaining and vital. Kaye will be joined in conversation with Shena Wolf, director of comics and acquisitions at Andrews McMeel Syndication.
• February 18, 6:00pm CT
  Black Women, Hair, Comics and Graphic Novels
  Hear from a panel of creators, featuring moderator Carrie McClain, editor and writer for Blacknerdproblems; Ebony Flowers, cartoonist, ethnographer, teacher and author of Hot Comb; Stephanie Williams, freelance journalist and writer of webcomics; Mildred Louis, illustrator and webcomic creator and Jamila Rowser, writer and publisher, as they discuss hair and the representation of Black women in comic books and graphic novels.
• February 22, 7:00pm CT
  A History of Pop Art: The Most Modern Art
  Why has Pop Art — a movement initially ridiculed by art critics and historians — outlasted them all to become, arguably, modern art’s most “modern” art? This is the story of the 20th century's most controversial art style, from the early days of being labeled as mere artistic plagiarism, to eventually commanding some of the highest art auction prices in the entire art world. Led by Arlen Schumer. Cost is $10 US.
• March 3, Noon CT
  The Art of Comic Books: Fine Art at Our Fingertips
  Is it possible to compare the fabled historic works of fine art with the more modern works of comic book art? It's time to challenge the art world's status quo and uncover how some of the most talented and creative art pieces of our generation have been created in the medium of comic books. Led by Arlen Schumer. Cost is $10 US.

It occurred to me recently that, despite referring to the Golden Legacy series on a number of occassions over the years, I've never actually reviewed any of them. Since I just looked at a more recent Harriet Tubman comic earlier this week, I thought I'd take a closer look at the Golden Legacy version of the same. (For the record, my copy dates from 1976. I don't know what changes may have been implemented before or since that printing.) The issue was written by Joan Bacchus and drawn by Tom Feelings (whose Tommy Traveller series I reviewed a few years ago).

Tubman's biography here is, of course, considerably shorter than the other one I looked at. This is a simple pamphlet comic and the main story clocks in at only 24 pages, so things move along very quickly and a lot of details and incidents get left out. That said, the narrative is easy to follow, although it does rely on the narrative captions more than the Show Me History version. Although the broad strokes of Tubman's life are the same, there's some curious differences in the details between the two versions. I'm not expert enough to say which is more accurate, but the diffences are mostly in the settings and visible context events take place in. When Tubman is given a concussion when she's teenager, for example, the Show Me History version puts the event in a 'downtown' store where the Golden Legacy version places it more squarely on the plantation property itself. Or when she's taking some of her family up to Canada and is stopped to check her (falsified!) papers, the Show Me History version places that on the train well after it's on its way, whereas the Golden Legacy version places it at the train station before she even boards.

Feelings' art is not well served by the printing format here. He provides a decent amout of detail and adds some interesting atmospheric touches, but the cheap newsprint blurs the linework a bit, obscuring some of the details. His line shading, particularly when coupled with the generally darker hues the (unknown) colorist used, further muddies the printed page. There's some good artwork there, but it's often hard to see in the final production. In hindsight, that's probably why I have a recollection of these issues generally having inferior art -- it's not that the artists weren't talented, the details just aren't readily apparent.

The most striking difference between the Golden Legacy and Show Me History versions, though, is the overall tone. I mentioned the other day how, just in skimming the issue, the Golden Legacy version didn't try to obscure any of the violence. Upon closer reading, it has a much more visceral feel and it's unflinching in its portrayal of not only slavery but Tubman's disability. The concussion I noted earlier left her with sometimes debilitating narcolepsy. The Show Me History version mentions this at the outset and again towards the end when she receives an operation that cures (or at least severely subsides) it, but the Golden Legacy version shows that as the ongoing issue it was. How she was unable to work for a year after the incident and only then with lighter housework at first. How, years later, she would collapse while actively leading slaves on the Underground Railroad, and they had to sit and wait until she got better. While the Golden Legacy version skips some good chunks of Tubman's life due to space limitations and they don't include any contextual social details, they do a much better job conveying the emotional context. The book doesn't have all the details you might want to know about Tubman's life, but it does have a much greater emotional resonance.

The issue concludes with another few half-page prose biographies of other prominent Black figures, as do the other Golden Legacy issues. They're each only a few paragraphs in length, but they highlight figures that are almost always overlooked in biography series like these. This issue calls attention to: Daniel Hale Williams (the first person to successfully operate on the human heart), Ira Aldrige (a hugely popular and decorated stage actor from the early 1800s), Bishop James Augustine Healy (the first Black Catholic Bishop), and Jean Baptiste Pointe Du Sable (founder of Chicago). There's also a further two half-pages that relays a (very) brief history of Black men in the US armed forces, particularly poignent when you recall it was written in 1966, barely a decade after the US Army fully integrated.

For the goal of getting kids interested in history, and encouraging them to seek out more information about figures like Harriet Tubman, I think the Golden Legacy books will be more successful. They might be shorter and light on details, but they do a much better job connecting with the reader and getting them emotionally and intellectually engaged. I'd easily recommend this over other similar biography series I've read. Fortunately, you can still get a collected edition of the entire series!

One of the semi-common refrains among those in support of Black History Month is that it's only one month. When weighed against the centuries of oppression, which continues in various forms to this day, one month is hardly long enough. (And it's the shortest month at that!) So here's a quick suggestion that might help you in your ongoing appreciation of Black people's place in American history...

One day every week (pick a day of your choosing), make a point of finding a comic by a Black person that you like. Whether it's a newspaper comic, a webcomic, a monthly pamphlet book, whatever... just find one comic created by a Black person that you like for whatever reason(s). It doesn't have to be about the Black experience, or have a political edge to it, or anything. Just find a comic you happen to like that happens to be created by a Black person. (If you need help finding something, you can start with something obvious like what's listed in Wikipedia or get more options from the Cartoonists of Color database.)

Then, and here's the important part, read it. Like, all of it. Track down the first installment (or the first installment by that Black creator if it was started by someone else) and commit to reading through everything. Maybe it was a monthly comic book that only lasted six issues, but maybe it's an ongoing newspaper comic that's been running for 30 years. But commit to reading all of it, whatever is available.

And, if it's still going on, keep reading it. Support that creator by buying their books, or whatever they have available. If they're still alive and still working on the comic, send them a note of appreciation. It doesn't have to be elaborate, "Hey, man, I like your comic," is fine.

But the idea is to use Black History Month as a springboard for a longer, extended appreciation of Black creators and their work. It's a way to see a larger scope of their work and, hopefully, turn you into an evangelist for their work.

I was recently reminded of the classic "Judgment Day!" story from Weird Fantasy #18 (March 1953). The story, if you've never actually read it, is reproduced below... Now here in 2021, there seem to be no end of racial tensions. But, despite those tensions, we live in a world where some of the highest paid actors and actresses are Black. Where many of the greatest sports stars are Black. Where many of the most-loved musicians are Black. Where CEOs of major corporations are Black. Where mayors, senators, Supreme Court judges and other politicians are Black. Where the frickin' Vice-President of the United States is Black.

That's not to suggest we've reached any level of racial parity in our culture, but only to point out that today, in 2021, it's not particularly unusual to see a people of color in positions of power. When Black parents tell their children they can grow up to be anything they want, they can point to very real examples in pretty much every profession.

That wasn't the case in 1953. Jackie Robinson had only broken the color barrier in professional baseball in 1947. It wouldn't be until 1966 that Robert C. Henry became the first Black mayor of a U.S. city. So the very idea of the protagonist being Black in "Judgment Day!" was novel; the "hero" of every story was a white man back in 1953. "White male" was very much the default for everything, so putting a Black man front and center in this story -- this story about prejudice based on superficial qualities -- said something very powerful. The character, up until the very last panel, would have been assumed to have been a white male and taking off his helmet to reveal otherwise was very much a story twist.

Particularly with the casual way it's done. Read the script closely. It does cite the color of his skin in the text, but merely as a description of his visible appearance; there's no comment or even hint of a suggestion at any cultural baggage based on his skin color. That is only brought to the table by the reader in the context of the times it was written. It's only in the backdrop of 1953 that his skin color holds any real significance.

So does "Judgment Day!" hold up in 2021? Is it still relevant beyond it's historical significance? The original story was aimed at kids in the 1953; would their contemporary counterparts get it? Or would they get to the end, shrug and say, "So he just leaves? What the heck kind of ending is that?"

Or am I too optimistic in that thinking? After all, we've had four years of increasing and increasingly violent attacks on Black people. Many of such acts are even perpetrated by those ostensibly sworn to serve and protect everyone! Would kids still get that same 1953 impact if they read "Judgment Day!" today? I don't have any kids and make a point not to spend any time with racist asshats, but if you have access to either, try showing them those seven pages and ask them to read it in front of you. I'm honestly curious what their reaction would be.

February is, of course, Black History Month and I thought I'd start by taking a look at Harriet Tubman: Fighter for Freedom, which came out in December as part of the "Show Me History!" series from Portable Press. The series are "graphic novels about unforgettable people." Each one is a 96 page biography of a famous American (and also Jesus 😕❓) and they're mostly names you'd expect in a line geared towards 8-12 year olds: George Washington, Albert Einstein, Amelia Earhart, etc.

The book cover Tubman's entire life, from when her grandmother as brought over from Africa through her death. Although the story is narrated by Libby and Sam (young versions of Lady Liberty and Uncle Sam) the overall story is a good mix of narration and actual comics storytelling. Unlike some history comics I've reviewed, this never feels like it's just illustrated prose. Probably at least in part because Libby and Sam are characters in their own right, and have ongoing conversations while they (mostly Libby) help to relay what's going on in the story. Also they mostly only step in to fill in gaps between scenes or provide a little context, while the scenes themselves play out organically.

I've commented before how, in biographic comics, writers are often reluctant to write dialogue that they don't know for sure the person in question really said. And since those are often pulled from letters and other written documents, they tend to be both sparse and abnormally formal. Writer James Buckley Jr. does not have any issues with that here, giving Tubman natural dialogue, but an interesting option that I don't recall seeing in comics before is that any of her speech balloons that are colored yellow are things she is known to have said, compared to the usual white ones wheree Buckley had to invent some dialogue. It's a simple and elegant way to distinguish the historical record from creative license without impacting the narrative flow.

I did feel the story was a bit soft of just how awful slavery was. They certainly didn't paper over it with happy slaves or "not all slave owners" or anything like that, but they did skirt parts of it. For example, in an early scene when Tubman was still a child, she's punished for falling asleep while watching a neighbor's baby. There is a panel showing someone holding a whip, but there's an entire page of her just looking sheepished while her owner yells at how embarassed she's made her. Nearly all of the physical violence has been removed, leaving it only to be implied. I presume the argument is that this is a book geared for younger readers and the publisher doesn't want to take any flack from overly protective parents, but it does make the story... well, certainly not as blatantly dishonest as my history textbooks in school, but very misleading at least. (In a couple cases, in fact, it appears that there was something the artist rendered, but seems to have been edited for publication -- odd figure placements and empty spaces and such -- so I'm inclinded to put this more on the publisher than anyone else.) Granted, I don't have kids myself, but I'm of the opinion that if a child is old enough to learn about slavery at all, they should be told the whole truth about just how fucking awful and horrific it is.

(As an aside, I just went back and double-checked my copy of Golden Legacy that covers Tubman. The art is a bit muddy, but they present the violence inherent in slavery much more honestly, I think.)

Generally, the narrative flows pretty smoothly from a visual perspective. I think artist Izeek Esidene did a fair job overall. There were a couple places where I did have to rely a bit on the writing, but I'm willing to give Esidene the benefit of the doubt in most cases because I did run into a few issues in the inking. There were, in fact, four inkers on this book: Cassie Anderson, Caitlin Like, and Duddy & Rachmat Pratama. I wouldn't say any of them were bad inkers, but they all have very distinct and different styles of inking, none of which compliment one another very well. So any given page would look fine, but it would become a bit jarring if one of the other inkers did the next page. This could potentially work if the story was divvied up, and each inker took a section, but it looks more like a round robin type of approach where none of the inkers did more than three or four consecutive pages before they switched. So the style shifts sometimes several times in one incident or anecdote. Further, there are a few instances of panels or parts of panels being copied and pasted from one page to another. Not so many that they'd be overly distracting by themselves, but in some cases the copied panels are pasted on to pages with a different inker, so you get two radically different styles on the same page!

I sound fairly critical of the book, but keep in mind that I'm looking at it from the perspective of... well, a critic. But this book -- this whole series -- is not made for that. It's expressly written and designed for kids. Many of whom are probably going to be too young to notice a switch in inkers, or who might not yet have learned about slavery at all and have no idea what the word even means! (I believe, at least in the US, history isn't really introduced as a subject until kids are nine or ten!) I don't think they have any grand artistic ambitions with this book. I think the goal here is pretty much the same as the old Classics Illustrated: make a story interesting enough for kids to enjoy and maybe start a spark of curiosity to get them to learn more, and maybe make a few bucks while we're at it.

The book retails for $12.99 US and is available now from your local bookstore.