Over the past few weeks, and days, numerous articles have appeared about Black Panther. These pieces range from providing historical context for the T’Challa, the role of the Dora Milaje, the cultural impact of Black Panther and representation on the big screen, and countless other topics. The sheer breadth of these pieces in amazing, and there is no way, at this point, that I could cull all them together. Today, I do not plan to really dive into any of these discussions because I think that there are far-more qualified writers that have done that already. Instead, I just want to give some of my ruminations on the film after seeing it the other day. These will probably be rambling, but I hope that you get something out them.
Crazy and unexpected! That is the only way I can truly describe what I experienced when I first started reading Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples’ Saga (2012). On almost every trip to the library to find new books, I would pick up Saga and flip the pages. Time and time again I would put it back on the shelf because it looked, in essence, crazy. There are cats who can tell if you are lying, aristocrats with CRT televisions for heads, characters with horns, characters with wings, planets that are actually eggs. All of this, initially, kept me away from Saga because I am not necessarily a huge fan science fiction. However, once I started reading, I couldn’t put the books down. The story is engrossing, and the connections that arose in my mind as I read the story of Marko and Alana fleeing war with their daughter Hazel keep me going.
Last post, I wrote about some of the Gothic elements in issues #41 and #42 of Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing and the repetition of the “unsuccessfully repressed.” Today, I want to continue that discussion some by looking at the conclusion of issue #42, “Strange Fruit.” Rather than breaking with the past by burning the roots of hate and prejudice, the space shifts from Robertaland to cultural productions. The closing panels highlight this movement as they show Alice’s father, the zombie who gives the speech earlier in the issue, encased in a ticket boot at a theater surrounding by Grind House and Blaxploitation posters.