Elektra and Wolverine: The Redeemer

Elektra and Wolverine: The Redeemer 1-3

This is an illustrated novel, not a comic book.  I know Greg Rucka was a novelist before he began writing comics, but I wasn’t impressed with the one Atticus Kodiak book I read fifteen years ago, and I wasn’t impressed with the beginning of this series either.  I found his prose functional and little more.  It did an serviceable job of describing what was going on, but did not add any color to the proceedings.  Thinking about it, it feels a lot like Wolverine - pushing on with no elegance, but successfully accomplishing its goal nonetheless.  

Which isn’t to say Rucka can’t turn a nice phrase.  I was particularly enchanted by this exchange:

“How do you move like that?” the girl asked. 

After a moment Elektra said, “Practice.” 

The girl nodded, as if the answer was both appropriate and satisfying.

Without having it described to me, I knew exactly how Elektra moved.  Color me impressed.

As I got deeper into the story, I found myself getting caught up in it, and I think it’s primarily due to the relationship between Avery and Elektra.  Giving a hardened killer a minor to protect and bond with has been done many times in the past.  It’s hardly original.  And yet, as with so many of those stories, it works yet again.  Perhaps it’s because female assassin/female protege is a rarer permutation of the formula.  After bemoaning Elektra’s lack of personality in previous stories (or dismissing attempts to bestow her with one as unbelievable), I was sold on this added dimension.  The connection between the two felt real and earned, as did Elektra’s decision to return to a life of solitude at the end (as inevitable as it was).  

Yoshitaka Amano’s art would be amazing if I didn’t hate his eyes so much.  They give his characters an alien look that is absolutely unappealing.  It works when they’re otherworldly in nature, but not so much when they’re supposed to be human.

Eyes work here.

Not so much here.

Which is a shame, because I love everything else about Amano’s art.  Even his awkwardly posed figures look good.

Works.

Works.

Okay, not so much here.

And then there’s this knowing smile on Logan, which nails the scene it’s depicting, and is unlike any other face Amano’s done.  In that it’s looks like a human’s face.

Great smile.

Regret buying? No

Would buy again? No

Would read again? Yes

Rating: Pretty good