Every Wednesday we take turns to delve into our trusty longboxes, pluck out a dusty back issue at random, and give you our thoughts. We’ll also try and place it in the context of the time it was originally published.

Continuing our vague theme of making the Dusting Off features relevant or topical to something we’ve written about recently, let’s have a look – with the news that it’s due to finally be collected as part of the forthcoming Starman Omnibus – at the first issue of James Robinson’s Shade miniseries from 1997.

A spinoff from the main Starman title, The Shade was, in truth, something of an inevitability. Over the course of the series, and even from quite an early stage, it was apparent that by far the most compelling character was this one-time Golden Age villain – originally a somewhat silly footnote in Flash lore, Robinson turned the Shade into a character of considerable depth, wit, style and moral ambiguity. I can’t say too much about the way that he managed to provide justification for the coexisting portrayals of the character – originally a petty supervillain, then a cold-hearted murderer, and finally the morally-layered individual of Starman – without spoiling certain events from the last couple of books; but nevertheless, even at this point in the series’ life (just short of halfway along) it was clear that this was a character about whom we yearned to know more.

And so this four-part miniseries, which delved into his background – specifically, the tale of his century-old feud with an English family called the Ludlows. It’s a neat, dark little tale of betrayal and murder – and while the twist is somewhat predictable, it’s no less enjoyable for that. It’s also unusual, really, in that – aside from a single moment where the Shade uses his mysterious new powers for the first time – it’s a purely historical story, with next to no fantastical elements. While I can think of many other comics that have set stories in the past – and even in this particular setting of nineteenth-century London – it’s rare to see one that feels that so authentic. Building an entire story around the Shade allows Robinson to indulge even further the “literary” voice he’d given the character in Starman - and it’s telling just how long some of the narrative caption boxes are. At times, this feels more like an illustrated story than a comic book.

Rather than regular series artist Tony Harris, each issue of the miniseries was drawn by a different artist – in this instance, it was Gene Ha. And his work is, in fact, one of the strongest things about the issue. He employs a part-pencilled, part-painted style, and the results are absolutely stunning. Perfectly suited to the tone of the book, his vision of London is somewhat unreal – but in a gothic, Tim Burtoney kind of way rather than a snow-drenched Dickensian wonderland. His muted colours, meanwhile, give a sepia tone to the whole thing, while also emphasising such details as splashes of blood and the uncharacteristically light colouring of the Shade’s outfit when we first meet him.

The Victoriana style of the story, and its somewhat sombre tone, mean that this may not appeal to the widest spectrum of comics readers – but it’s a supremely confident piece of work in every aspect of its execution, and affords us a valuable opportunity to spend a bit more time with one of recent comics history’s most fascinating characters. Impressively, too, it’s a story in and of itself – you don’t need prior knowledge of the Shade or Starman to read it – although I’d hesitate to unreservedly recommend it to a new reader for the simple reason that there’s so much more enjoyment to be had simply from picking up Starman at the beginning, spinoffs and all…