Captain America, Vol 1 – Ed Brubaker, Steve McNiven

Publisher’s Summary:
“Paris 1944: Nick Fury launches a crucial mission against the Axis, using super-powered teenager Jimmy Jupiter’s other-dimensional teleporting abilities to instantaneously transport Allied operatives to the battlefield across great distances. The objective? To sever a burgeoning alliance between Baron Zemo and Hydra. The key players – Captain America, Bucky Barnes, Peggy Carter, ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan and Codename: Bravo – are in place. But as so often happens in war, the mission goes awry.

Paris, 2011: Steve Rogers buries his wartime lover and battlefield comrade Peggy Carter. The mourning is shattered by a brazen attack by an enigmatic figure from Cap’s past, a soldier thought lost to the winds of war. But why would a one time brother-in-arms want to kill Captain America? And what does it have to do with Peggy?”

Where to begin? Actually, that just might be it. By noting that this first volume of Ed Brubaker’s Captain America requires very little knowledge of Cap’s beginning to 1) understand what’s happening in the story at hand, and 2) to enjoy it. But what if you don’t have the basics under your belt? Not even ‘just the facts, ma’am’? They’ve got you covered. The graphic novel leads off with a succinct two paragraph introduction meant to catch you up. (And isn’t that just like having Cap’s shield thrust into the gut? The one time I actually do know the character and his background, it’s not necessary. This may be a first: I was actually disgruntled to not find myself even a little bit confused. Yes. I know.)

Adorably confused Cap is adorable.

So we’re clear: I love Steve Rogers/Captain America. Like, raving, get-out-of-that-fangirl’s-way LOVE. Despite my devotion to the character, I do understand that I may not actually enjoy all of the story arcs he is at the heart of or, for that matter, every graphic novel he turns up in. That’s not the case here, because I found an awful lot to love, and, considering a few elements counted in ‘an awful lot’, that surprised even me. But what really tipped me off to the fact that the story worked? I need to return the book to the library and…I really don’t want to. So.

First things first: I will never tire of Steve’s ‘man out of time’ struggle to account for and accept his place in the new world he woke up in. It manifests here in his grief over Peggy’s death, first, and then is brought into sharper focus by the return of a former ally thought lost for good after a mission went wrong. For all of Steve’s enhanced capabilities – strength, speed, healing – it’s clear that the depth of emotion he is capable of feeling owes nothing to the serum; it’s all Steve, present and accounted for when he was still that scrawny kid from Brooklyn. I mean, that’s partly why he was chosen for the super soldier program to begin with, right? But it makes him fallible, all that feeling; prone to question the impact of his actions on those around him, on the world he’s trying so hard to do right by. And his enemies do their best to exploit that in him, which, honestly, is hard to watch at times. (You know, due to all that LOVE I feel for him.)

I very much enjoyed the past/present narrative, which mostly comes about as a result of Steve recalling events from his past for the benefit of others who were not there, living it beside him. The transitions were fairly seamless – you knew when the story shifted back in time – but the same cannot be said, necessarily, for the dream aspect of the story. Or, maybe that’s not the right way to put it. A part of the plot revolves around a boy – Jimmy Jupiter – who can basically create other worlds and has access to other people’s dreams. He can also, unfortunately for Cap, bring people in and out of this other world/dreams with him. It wasn’t always clear right away when the two worlds bled into one another. But that’s nit-picky stuff, and, actually, there was one really, really neat image to come out of just that very thing. Check it out:

As Steve transitions into the alternate world, his costume, which he previously was not wearing, begins to form around him like someone is painting it on.

Now. For one of those things that surprised me. I liked Sharon Carter (aka Agent 13) quite a bit. Going into this, the things I knew about Sharon could be counted on one hand: I knew she was romantically involved with Steve; that she played a major role in an-arc-that-shall-not-be-named-or-mentioned; and that she was Peggy Carter’s niece. I did not know how capable she is, or how steady, or that I was going to have her to thank for the only mention of Tony (Stark) in the book. (And there’s my bias showing again. In my defense, I had to note it, because when Sharon was fighting Baron Zemo – who had a nasty surprise woven into his suit – she tells him, “…mine was made by Tony Stark, so I don’t electrocute so easy,” and the I-also-LOVE-Tony portion of my brain went SQUEE! Just like that. I get all irrationally proud when Tony’s genius is given such casual, yeah-he’s-awesome props.)

So, story; check. Characters; check. Now, the art: I really, really liked it, even if, toward the end, the style didn’t quite match what came before it. It was almost as if a different artist had had a hand in drawing the last five to ten pages, or, more accurately, a couple of characters. Steve, for instance, looked much older, harsher, compared to the windblown cover boy over there on the left. (Which, by the way, is a mighty fine look on him.) I loved the predominance of greens and purples, though I couldn’t tell you if there was a greater purpose behind the use of those colors, and, as always, appreciated how the palette helped set the tone for each section of the story.

To sum up the rest of my thoughts – and I’ve got plenty – bring on volume two!

And, uh, just so you know what to expect in the near future, a look at my current to be read pile:

You’ve been warned?