Today, Drew and Spencer are discussing Ms. Marvel 1, originally released February 5th, 2014. 

But what did he see in the clear stream below? His own image; no longer a dark, gray bird, ugly and disagreeable to look at, but a graceful and beautiful swan.

Hans Christian Andersen, The Ugly Duckling

Drew: We all know the story, but have you ever actually read Hans Christian Andersen’s original The Ugly Ducking? It’s beyond dark. Before he realizes he’s actually a swan, the ugly duckling has embraced suicide as his only escape from a life as an outcast. Even without that particular detail, the ending has always struck me as grim. The happy ending stems from the ugly duckling actually being classically beautiful, after all, not from any kind of acknowledgement that looks aren’t everything. This particular duckling happened to be a swan, but what of ducklings that are actually ugly? I guess those end up actually committing suicide. In spite of this straight-up “difference is awful (unless it happens to make you the same as someone else)” message, this story is treated as though it empowers different-looking children. Its contradiction is almost tragic. As I read through the letters column of Ms. Marvel 1, which praised the notion of a non-white heroine, I couldn’t help but feel that same tragic disconnect, as the heroine herself turns out to be, well, you can see for yourself after the jump.

Now, I don’t want to mistake this issue’s conclusion for this series’ attitude towards beauty/difference/heroism — this is only the beginning of the story, and even here she seems to regret the wish to become Captain Marvel — but Kamala’s heroic manifestation as a white inhuman is a tad troubling. I also don’t want to mistake this appearance as permanent, as we’ve seen from All-New Marvel Now! Point One 1, Kamala looks a bit more like herself, and apparently has shape-shifting abilities. That is to say, I don’t think this series will be about a sad muslim girl who becomes a better person by becoming white, but I do think that having Kamala buy into that notion, however temporarily, lends strength to all of the detractors of this series who think heroes should be white.

Again, I appreciate that this is just the first step on a journey, and that Kamala’s story is likely going to be her learning to embrace who she is (as so many coming-of-age stories are), but it sure seemed like she was already at that point before she ended up in an inhuman cocoon.

I understand that there are folks out there who believe that heroes should be tall, beautiful white people, and that some level of self-loathing might be realistic for somebody who isn’t those things, but I suppose my discomfort comes from that age-old question of how idealized we want our heroes to be. Is Superman doing the right thing more inspiring if he’s tempted to do the wrong thing first, or if he’s simply never tempted? Marvel has long been the place where heroes grow into their roles — ultimately, I think Kamala’s desire to look different is decidedly less immoral that Peter Parker’s decision to let that thief go free — which gives me confidence that this series will turn all of my concerns into assets.

That may be the most long-winded “I want to give this series room to grow before I come to any conclusions” I’ve ever written, but after coming down maybe a little too hard on the first issue of Punisher, I want to make sure I’m not rushing to judgement. That said, this issue trades in a lot of the same kinds of tropes and shorthands that frustrated me about Punisher 1. Kamala literally sneaks out of her window in order attend the jerk jock’s wild teen party, where she attempts to befriend the alpha bitch. It reads more like a remix of TV Tropes’ “Teenage Tropes” page than anything original, albeit with barbs about headscarves and halal meats in place of digs about trapper-keepers and whatever else kids insult each other about these days.

The rest of the story — Kamala is transformed by the Terrigen mist — is classic superhero origin, with the twist that Kamala herself is an Avengers obsessive. To me, that detail is actually more important than her religion or heritage — when she finally has her hallucinatory moment of clarity, it is not God or Muhammed that she sees, but a few of her favorite superheroes. She’s a fan first, which has the potential to make her more relatable to other fans, muslim or not. Unfortunately, I feel like that fanishness gets looked over in favor of looking at her ethnicity. Let me put it this way: there might be reasons a comic book fanfic writer might not be invited to a high school party that have nothing to do with their race or religion. Exploring those reasons might cut across the demographics of comic fandom, and might ring a bit more true. As it is, ethnicity is emphasized as the only reason Kamal can’t relate to the popular crowd, making me wonder exactly how many white fangirls Zoe Zimmer is friends with.

Wow. I guess my relationship to this issue is more complicated than I realized. I’m not entirely sure what I want out of it, but I’m also not entirely sure what it wants out of me. I think I have to stick around through the end of this first arc to really know how I feel, but if nothing else, this issue has made me think about a lot of subjects that don’t come up very often in the world of comics. That’s certainly something.

Spencer: True enough, Drew. Writer G. Willow Wilson is trying to do a lot of new and different things with Ms. Marvel, and I think that leaves a lot of room for us to be lenient with some of the more standard trappings of the issue. Yeah, Kamala sneaking out of the house and going to that party borrows liberally from just about every teenage-focused story out there, and yeah, Zoe and her meathead brigade are rather cliché archetypes, but the details surrounding these tropes are so out-of-the-ordinary that I’m not even bothered by them.

Specifically, Wilson’s handling of religion was the first aspect of this issue that impressed me. This story doesn’t read like a pamphlet on being Muslim, but at the same time, Kamala’s being Muslim isn’t some tiny aspect that’s largely brushed over; being Muslim is an important part of Kamala’s life, but it’s far from her only defining element. More importantly, the other Muslim characters don’t all necessarily share Kamala’s viewpoint towards their religion.

In fact, every Muslim character we see seems to practice their religion in a slightly different way, and that rings quite true to life; just because two people share the same religion doesn’t mean they’re going to feel exactly the same about it—even within the same family—and I’m sure that sort of divide and conflict over religion is something many of us can relate to.

I think that relatability is Ms. Marvel’s—and Kamala’s—greatest strength. After all, Kamala is also a superhero fangirl of the highest magnitude, and, let’s be honest, who among us can’t relate to a hero-worshipping, fan-fic writing, superhero-emblem wearing main character?

(Drew, you argued that Kamala’s religion seemed to overshadow her fannish tendencies when it came to her interactions with the popular crowd at school, but I can totally understand that. Being a geek isn’t as big of a sin as it used to be, while being Muslim is like wearing a giant target on your chest. Beyond that, while Kamala certainly isn’t trying to hide her love of superheroes, it still seems like a more personal detail about her, the kind of thing that just her best friend pokes fun of. If anything, Zoe’s crew doesn’t even seem to know Kamala well enough to know it’s something they could even make fun of her about, which is, in its own way, a telling detail.)

Still, what I admire the most about Wilson’s decision to make Kamala a superhero fan is, again, the specificity of it. In any sort of media targeted towards young adults there’s a tendency to avoid specificity so as to make a character or concept as generally relatable as possible; just look at Bella Swan, the bland protagonist of the unfortunately popular Twilight saga, who is clearly meant to be nothing more than an audience surrogate, or even look at a band like Linkin Park, whose lyrics are just vague enough and filled with just enough general “you’s” so as to make them applicable to literally any teenager’s angst. As much as I dislike this practice as an adult I’ve got to admit there’s certainly a place for it, but I feel like Kamala as a character gains a lot more strength from the specifics of her situation. Wilson has given us a full-fledged person instead of an archetype, but more importantly, she’s proven that she gets why we’re superhero fans instead of just assuming that having the hero be a superhero fan would be enough to hook us.

Like many young people, Kamala latches onto superheroes because they’re role models, they’re who she wants to be instead of who she’s stuck being, and man, do I sure relate to that. Honestly, what struck me most while reading this book is how much it felt like reading a story about myself. Yeah, sure, I was never a young Muslim girl, but I was a bullied kid from a strict religious family who found escape through the stories of these fantastic heroes who seemed like they were everything I wanted to be, everything I thought I could never be, so in that sense, yeah, I am Kamala, and I imagine many of the people reading this book are too, in one way or another.

Drew and I have both rambled on for a while now without mentioning the art, and that’s criminal. Adrian Alphona—assisted ably by Ian Herring on colors—fits the tone of this book perfectly with his cartoony, sketchy work. I’m not necessarily a fan of every decision he makes—for example, of how some of the character’s faces become crude when drawn from a distance—but Alphona’s handling of facial expression more than makes up for it, and I especially love how he’s not afraid to exaggerate a situation to play up the emotion behind it, such as the confrontation between Kamala and her father or even Kamala’s pitch-perfect indignant “marching off in a huff” routine.

I find it interesting that Alphona’s work doesn’t really change in either of the two fantasy segments of this issue (Kamala’s fan fiction and her Terrigen-fueled hallucination). To me, that says that there’s an element of fantasy to all of Kamala’s story, not in the sense that what we’re reading isn’t real, but in the sense that Kamala’s transformation into Ms. Marvel is very much a wish fulfillment. Obviously Kamala is already facing a little “be careful what you wish for” kind of backlash, but from what I’ve seen in this first issue so far, I know the book will find a way to elevate Kamala’s development beyond that simple, tired concept.

Regardless, I’m beyond excited about the future of this book, and I am honestly just so grateful that it exists. Ms. Marvel is obviously an invaluable step in the right direction when it comes to giving both young girls and Muslim readers representation, but it’s also something that I feel almost any reader of comics should be able to find themselves in. When I first put this issue down I was grinning ear-to-ear, and I can already feel it starting to fill up the giant, gaping open wound that the cancellation of Young Avengers left in my heart.

For a complete list of what we’re reading, head on over to our Pull List page.  Whenever possible, buy your comics from your local mom and pop comic bookstore.  If you want to rock digital copies, head on over to Comixology and download issues there.  There’s no need to pirate, right?