Conversely, we’d often find ourselves with a week where there were lots of books we fancied covering, but simply didn’t have the time between us. Often, a lot of my favourite books – from Phonogram to Batman and Robin, Captain Britain to Ultimate Spider-Man – end up coming out in the same week, which makes for a fun visit to Forbidden Planet, but a difficult quandary when working out what to write about. Our “Sunday Pages” capsule review posts would help with this, obviously – and both James and I have also tended to find of late that these shorter reviews are quite enjoyable to put together. With that scheduled series of posts temporarily on hold, however (I, or we, may revisit it at some point – but for the moment one of the things we’re exploring with the new format is not having a specific schedule to stick to beyond “something every day”), there won’t be a regular set of capsules each week, but every so often a week may come along in which I feel the urge to ramble on about a handful of books. This is just such a week, so read on for brief reviews of Powers, Ex Machina, S.W.O.R.D. and more…

Powers (vol. 3) #3
Well, this is interesting. If it’s not going to be the stories that kick this volume of Powers into life – and as yet, sadly, it seems that they’re not quite, despite some good material in the flashbacks – then perhaps it might be art. For reasons I can’t quite fathom, Mike Avon Oeming goes off on one here (Bendis even leaves out the letter column in order to let him loose with 41 pages of art) with some experimental storytelling of a kind not really seen in the series before. It’s not We3, but there’s some strong and inventive use of panel layout (and lack thereof, with multiple incremental moments appearing on the page without division), giving a powerful energy to the chase-and-fight sequence that makes up most of the issue. Movie-style action in comics can be tricky to get right, but there’s no denying that Oeming does so here, and it’s very impressive stuff. I wish I knew what had sparked off the change in style – but I’m not complaining. If he continues to draw the shit out of it like this, then the book might just become unmissable once Deena finally comes back.

Daytripper #4
The further Daytripper goes on, the less likely it seems we’ll get an explanation for its recurring motif of Bras dying at the end of each issue, always at a crucial moment in his life. “Crucial” in relative terms, of course – the stories are small, looking inwardly at how our everyman character deals with various points of joy and sadness. But it approaches these facets of humanity in such a subtly complex way that it feels so much grander – it’s doing something that comics very rarely push themselves to. And as such, the “gimmick” feels less important – it’s a means to an end, rather than that end itself. Essentially, the series seems to ask how a given life would be reflected – how the assorted pieces, from emotions to relationships to legacy, would balance – were it to end, suddenly, at various given points. It all makes for a beautiful, if at times achingly sad, meditation on mortality and humanity itself, and something that’s growing into a truly exceptional comic.

Batman: The Widening Gyre #5
Kevin Smith hasn’t exactly made himself easy to take seriously as a Batman writer – his and Walt Flanagan’s Cacophony mini was pretty darned poor, and while The Widening Gyre has shown marked improvement, it’s still found itself susceptible to moments that have made various among the internet community point and laugh (notably, almost everything to do with the Silver St. Cloud subplot, and the stuff about Bruce as a “great writer” in particular). Yet there are some strong ideas here – Baphomet seems to be an attempt to do something new with the “new vigilante in town” angle (to wit: the fact that he isn’t just some psychotic weirdo, but simply a terrifyingly competent crimefighter who turns out to be an ordinary bloke underneath), even if it’s hard to see exactly where it’s going with just a single issue yet – and the whistlestop tour of various rogues has worked better than the previous mini’s focus on the Joker. Other elements work less well – I know there’s not a huge amount of difference in concept between the Black Cat and Catwoman, but they are different characters, something Smith would do well to remember; and Flanagan’s art, while undoubtedly improving the more practice he gets, is still maddeningly inconsistent, and the odd good image or page still doesn’t seem to justify his getting a six issue miniseries. An interesting experiment, though (if you take it entirely on its terms and try to divorce from anything approaching “continuity”), and not as horrendous as others online seem to want to make out.

Ex Machina #48
The finale of this series has really crept up on me somewhat – perhaps due to the slow publication rate of recent issues, perhaps due to the disappointment of the previous few arcs – and it does still feel, with just two issues left, as if there are lots of dangling threads (both character and plot-based) that won’t find the time to be fully resolved. But Vaughan is still at least managing to deliver on bringing about the crisis promised right back at the start of the series – when these flashbacks first began – even if the surprise is that it turns out to be a far more personal event that affects Hundred while the chaos brought about by Padilla explodes across New York. I’m still not convinced that using Suzanne as the “host” for the antagonist has quite worked – it makes it feel more like she’s the herald for a bigger threat, rather than the threat itself (as becomes apparent in this issue) – and it also seems that, irritatingly, less explanation for the whole thing is going to be offered than we might have expected or hoped. But it does seem that Vaughan’s laying the pieces for a big payoff, and it’s undeniably going to be a shame when we hit that final issue.

S.W.O.R.D. #5
Death’s Head. The grin on Beast’s face as he “zero-g-hops”. “Hello, alien chums”. The arrival of “the people who save the day”. “I’m the King Kong that shoots back”. Death’s Head. The terrifying, clinical creepiness of Unit. Brand apologising. Death’s Head. “That little horse-faced guy up there”. “Let’s just say that right now the Skrull Empire is smaller than some apartments I’ve lived in. When I was a student.” The mop. Blueberry muffins. “This is the best job in the entire universe”. Death’s Head. One last time: this is an utterly lovely little comic, and I’m desperately upset that this world doesn’t have a place for it. Snif.

But then you have Ultimate Comics Enemy. After one issue, the disappointing truth seems clear – it’s a Bendis Crossover-by-numbers. In this issue, an amorphous threat (quite literally speaking) upsets various characters’ status quo. We get disconnected snippets of characters, until 22 pages in, we’re left blinking and dumbstruck, but with absolutely no story to hang onto besides “what just happened?” – and these days, when you’re paying $3.99 per instalment, that’s not enough.

It’s also a shame, given Rafa Sandoval’s excellent depiction of a city being subsumed by a giant pink blob, that in a post-Ultimatum universe, threats of this magnitude just don’t seem credible. Last time something on this apparent scale happened, we had a year’s worth of promotion and hype. Arguably, now is not the time to rush into a giant, overwhelming threat that can’t be punched into submission, because it can’t possibly follow through like Ultimatum did – but that’s what we appear to be getting. The best scenes in this issue are actually the small, character moments that allow us to explore the new “disbanded” status of the Fantastic Four – but set against such a massive threat, such material pales into insignificance.

However, the truly sad part is that no matter what we’ve been told about “Ultimate Comics” being the new future face of Marvel, it’s all so painfully rooted in the past. This entire issue is plagued by exactly the kind of decompression that Bendis was pioneering in the first half of last decade. Where it once looked nuanced and inventive, it now looks flabby and unadventurous. I don’t like to spend too much time criticising an individual’s signature technique, but three pages for Nick Fury to get attacked while eating dinner feels like a poor use of space. An entire issue in, I feel like I’ve just seen the pre-credits sequence to a TV show. The only difference is that on TV, I only have to wait seconds for the story to continue, whereas there’s nothing here that’s going to bring me back in a month’s time.

By this point, however, Jessica had already angrily quit the Bugle, meaning that the series’ setup lasted for an even shorter time than its publication. As such, although there’s a linking thread involving the paper trying to cover Jessica and Luke’s baby’s birth, the issue’s pretty much split down the middle between the “main” plot – that of said birth – and one involving Urich. The Jessica scenes – wrapping up a story that is essentially a little coda to Alias itself – are good, particularly a nice moment where Ms. Marvel is made to recount the circumstances of her own… offspring (a neat bit of meta-commentary by Bendis on a controversial and best-forgotten moment in Carol’s history), but if truth be told, it’s not the primary plotline that makes this such an unmissable issue. Rather, it’s the subplot, involving Ben Urich tracking down a rather pathetic, fallen C-list hero called D-Man, and learning just how far it’s possible for the heroes that the MU’s citizens take for granted to fall.

I didn’t know the character before this arc – his schtick is that he’s a former wrestler and massive Daredevil fan, who dresses in a replica of DD’s old yellow costume and a Wolverine mask – but his story as portrayed in this issue is devastatingly touching. Ravaged by a mental illness that leads him to believe he’s on a “quest” to retrieve seven “Infinity Gems” (actually trinkets almost unwittingly stolen from jewellery stores), he’s living in a sewer off scraps of food. His earnestness in the face of his horrendous situation is deeply poignant – and rendered quite superbly in the facial expressions drawn by the welcome-returning Michael Gaydos, who’s possibly never been better than in these scenes – and Bendis’ mastery is in having this poor, wretched soul be discovered by Ben Urich. Not only does this allow for a splendid piece of pontificating narration from the journalist, but it makes for a warm – yet still quite sad – conclusion as he gets his friend Matt Murdock to intervene. Maybe this wouldn’t get everyone the way it seems to strike at me – I suppose different “issues” are meaningful to different people – but by gum it’s difficult reading, yet at the same time a rare and welcome musing on a topic rarely explored in this medium.

There are many who write off Bendis purely on the strength of reading the type of comic he’s generally weakest at (i.e. Marvel’s big summer crossovers, or his first attempt at “doing” the Avengers). But it’s hard to deny, when he writes a story as moving, powerful and rooted in humanity as this, that he’s capable of standing up there with the best of this generation of creators. It’s partly the fact that he does something that so few other writers would have thought to do, as much as it is the compassionate and innately empathetic execution. It’s a shame that The Pulse was so short-lived, considering the story potential it held, but I’m thankful that we at least got another quick shot of that Bendis/Gaydos magic.

The trade, however, kicks off with Ultimate Spider-Man Annual #3, which was once promoted as Bendis’ attempt to deal with the question of whether Ultimate Peter and Ultimate Mary Jane have had Ultimate Sex yet. In practise, the topic isn’t massively centre-stage, but it is dealt with and it’s the sort of material that is relevant to a teenage super-hero book in particular, so an acknowledgement isn’t a bad thing at all. The rest of the annual, while capably drawn by David LaFuente, turns out to be a bit weak, debuting Ultimate Mysterio, but going no further than that.

Afterwards, it’s all Ultimatum territory, reprinting Ultimate Spider-Man #129-#133 – though, annoyingly, not the two issue Ultimate Spider-Man: Requiem which served as a coda to the main series, even though Bendis went out of his way to emphasise that the requiem issues were important at the time. Somewhere, there’s a marketing manager or editorial member who needs a good slap for that one, because if you want the final two Ultimate Spider-Man issues, you have to buy the Requiem trade and get Fantastic Four and X-Men stories too. No thanks.

The stories that ARE included, though, are fair-to-middling. The street-level portrayal of the cast’s life, and how horrifyingly it gets turned upside down by the events of Ultimatum give the whole crossover some much needed human faces, although Bendis unwisely tries to tell more regular stories in the framework too – a subplot about Gwen’s return to school after her resurrection exposing Aunt May to the authorities as a “person of interest” regarding Spider-Man starts off with serious momentum, then (understandably) disappears entirely once the disaster hits – but what about after?

Later, there are a few nice moments of comedy – Peter trying to herd the Hulk around, for example, and Johnny Storm inadvertantly hitting on Peter’s clone – but largely, the story is all over the place and doesn’t make a lot of sense without Ultimatum – which, given that Ultimatum is not called “Ultimate Spider-Man Vol. 21-and-a-half” is pretty frustrating. The writing is good, the art is good, but because of the crossover, there’s no story to tell, only the chance to depict Spider-Man’s supporting cast running around in headless chicken mode – and that, in itself, isn’t very entertaining.

There’s an odd sense of finality to the trade – without the Requiem issues tagged on the end, this “last” volume of Ultimate Spider-Man concludes with the hero’s apparent death, and a several-page retrospective interview with Bendis about the endeavour of reinventing him. Combined with the renumbering, one could easily believe that this was genuinely the end. Of course, we know Ultimate Comics Spider-Man will continue the story, but as it turns out, my first instincts seem correct – you probably can skip this trade entirely.

But after an opening which is essentially an odd little straight-to-camera monologue from Peter – wondering, with a bafflement that the reader can only share, just how his house came to be full of quite so many characters while also providing an interesting nugget of context for the whole Gwen relationship thing – it settles down, slightly disappointingly, to become a fairly straightforward issue. Not that that’s a problem for this book – sharp dialogue, high-school-based character stuff (and a nice scene with Aunt May and the Principal that re-emphasises the curious “everyone loves Spidey” status quo we still find ourselves in), and big ’splodey action bits kicking in halfway through when a Mysterio-powered Spider Slayer type thing blows its way into Midtown High. I’ve written before how pleasing this actually-competent version of the villain is, and it continues here – and Lafuente excels with a slightly creepy design for the robot, making good use of the “eyes” motif. Meanwhile, the vague mystery over the identity of the unnammed hooded vigilante type person is finally given an answer, for the two or three people who didn’t figure it out. What’s interesting, though, is that six issues on there’s been no real discernable individual “arc” – instead, everything just feels a little bit more “ongoing”, with Mysterio lurking in the background throughout rather than just being able to call these issues “the Mysterio arc”.

There are still a few reservations about the direction this is all taking – it does feel a little bit like it’s juggling too many characters, with an essentially separate (for the moment) plot surrounding Kitty to add to the various things going on in Peter’s own life. In much the same way as Aunt May has taken in all of these assorted waifs and strays, it’s as if Ultimate Spider-Man has become the only refuge for all the younger characters that this universe was supposed to be about (nobody anywhere else is bothering to tell the story of just what’s actually happening with the Fantastic Four now, for example) – but there are limits, and you wonder just what a character like Bobby Drake is going to add to proceedings, especially when it means long-established characters like Kong, Flash and Liz are getting pushed into the background instead. But for all that, Bendis is still generally getting the mixture of action, humour and teen-drama spot on – and in a week when Spidey movie talk is all the rage, it’s hard to see a better audition piece to write a new one (especially one set back in the high school days) than he’s continuing to turn in. Sony, you know it makes sense.

Still, that leaves us with this to consider. Siege #1. The first issue of a plot that, by this point, we’re all plenty familiar with. Osborn and Loki conspire to get the latter in control of Asgard, bringing about the re-assemblage of The Real Avengers and the downfall of Normal Osborn. If anything, it feels almost TOO famliar.

The familiarity isn’t helped by the events of the issue. Bendis openly riffs on the flashpoint of Civil War, as Osborn and Loki con Volstagg into a public confrontation – but acknowledging in-story that you’re copying previous events doesn’t prevent the sense of deja vu from permeating the story. More so the final page – merely the latest instalment in a series of final pages featuring a “shock” splash of Steve Rogers that have been turning up since, ooh, last November?

In short – there are no surprises in this issue. But happily, that’s the only really big criticism that can be levelled against it. If you’ve somehow managed to avoid the onslaught of promotional material, the issue establishes its story rather definitively, with no additional reading required. The banter between Osborn and his Dark Avengers is Bendis’ at his naturalistic best (although the transcript bonus material – misprint aside – is less so). Ares, in particular, gets some decent moments, with Bendis’ enthusiasm reminding us that it was he who brought the character into the Avengers’ fold in the first place.

Although it’s an enjoyable read some smaller concerns do creep in around the edges – is Volstagg really that easily tricked? and what the hell is Maria Hill wearing? But in general, Siege #1 is confident and assured, and ultimately only a little bit uninteresting for it.

Okay, so we did our customary Christmas Week awards ceremony in a week where there

You know, New Avengers seems to have fallen off the radar of a lot of people – probably largely those affected by Crossover Fatigue. But I’ve always quite enjoyed it, if never quite regarding it as an essential purchase – some storylines have had a tendency to drag (particularly the Sorcerer Supreme stuff), but at the end of the day, it’s Bendis working with a good cast of characters that he’s carefully moulded and chipped away at over the course of a good few years, and it’s got the ever-dynamic-yet-pleasant Stuart Immonen drawing it. It’s probably the closest thing the 616-verse has got to Ultimate Spider-Man, in fact.

Plus, of course, it’s the book that most justifies the whole “Dark Reign” conceit, because it basically focuses on all the characters most affected by it – characters who thought it couldn’t get any worse than Civil War, but have had their very identities misappropriated and abused. I’m not saying I’m not sick of Osborn swanning around in charge by now, but I also don’t exactly blame New Avengers, which is quietly getting on with strong character material, for that fact. And this issue, finally wrapping up the Exciting Story of Luke Cage Lying In A Hospital Bed, is a good example all of that. It breezes along, with a good mixture of action and fun – primarily down to a properly gripping “race against time” sequence that culminates in an amusing twist and yet another example of Spider-Man getting a bit of personal revenge against Osborn. It struggles a little bit against the fact that there are simply so many characters kicking around at the moment – it’s almost as if there needs to be a New Avengers Reserve League, or something, with the likes of Daredevil, Hellcat and Valkyrie popping in to say hello – but despite shifting focus away from many of the book’s regulars (and really, how many more Wolverine appearances do we need at the moment anyway?), it never feels overcrowded, which is an impressive feat in itself.

What really sells it, though, is Immonen’s art – he’s been getting better as the last few years have gone on anyway, but here he’s combining his own recognisable style with the tone that Leinil Yu had firmly established for the book some time ago, and it works supremely well. The action is always well-choreographed, and for someone who never really does “big” panels (that is, you’ll never see him waste a full page, and rarely even a half, on a big splash), there are some strong and memorably dynamic images throughout (even making Iron Patriot look pretty cool) – and the splash that is employed is entirely justified. The look of fury on Osborn’s face at the denoument, meanwhile, is a joy – particularly when combined with a laughing BullsHawkeye in the background. Coupled with Bendis’ trademark knack for dialogue and easy way with these characters, it all adds up to an effortless comic – a slave to wider Marvel editorial mandate it may usually have to be, but the quality is undeniable, and I only hope that it’ll continue for a while in whatever “era” next awaits us.

For three Wednesdays, the Comics Daily team will be taking it in turns to pick a comic – a run, full series, graphic novel or even single issue – that we feel defines the last decade in some way. These aren’t necessarily our absolute favourite or objective “best” of the decade (if we could even pick just one of such a thing), just books that we think have been a special part of our comics reading over the past ten years. This week, it’s James’ choice…

Brian Bendis has been a major force in the comics industry throughout the decade, and could arguably fill out a top 5 list by himself. As writer of Powers, he proved that it was still possible for creator-owned superhero comics to punch above their weight. A record-breaking run on Ultimate Spider-Man helped anchor Marvel’s Ultimate line, which he contributed to extensively. Through Daredevil, The Pulse, New/Mighty/Dark Avengers, Secret War, House of M and Secret Invasion, he’s often seemed almost single-handedly responsible for steering the Marvel Universe. But his most impressive work to date was, in my eyes, on Alias.

Alias was launched as part of Marvel’s MAX line, a rival of sorts to DC’s Vertigo imprint intended to tell stories with subject matter unsuitable for children. And certainly, Alias did that, with its warts-and-all portrayal of Jessica Jones, a private investigator and former superheroine consumed by self-loathing. The fairer sex has received notoriously short shrift from the mainstream comicbook conpanies over the years, so allowing a male writer free rein to use graphic nudity, violence and swearing in a female-led series about a down-and-out superheroine – well, let’s just say it could easily have gone horribly wrong.

Instead, Jessica Jones might just be one of the greatest new characters to come out of Marvel in decades. Indeed, in creating a female character who wasn’t conventionally attractive or sexualised, who wasn’t exclusively defined by her relationship to the men around her, and who wasn’t portrayed as a fantasy girlfriend for the series’ readers, Bendis created a female lead who was almost unique in the genre. That alone made the series great. The fact that he also placed her in a gripping detective saga that also served as an ongoing character study just made it even better.

Collaborating with Bendis on the series was Michael Gaydos, an artist who translated the noir-influences and emotional depth of Alias into a unique look that capably placed real, human drama alongside the fantastical background of the Marvel Universe. Occasional appearances by Ultimate Spider-Man artist Mark Bagley helped the book evolve into a meta-commentary on female superheroes just in time for the series to conclude, too soon for the readers, but, in fairness, at exactly the right moment for the narrative.

Years after the series finished, there are still lessons that can and should be learnt from Alias, and it’s a shame that Jones herself has been relegated to the supporting cast of New Avengers, losing a lot of her character in the process. The planned Bendis/Gaydos Alias miniseries should remind readers of this frequently overlooked modern classic, but hopefully it’ll also serve to remind Bendis of the depth and nuance he once instilled in the character. Whatever her fate, there can be no doubt that the initial 28-issue series of Jessica Jones’ adventures deserves to be recognised as one of the best comics of the decade. If any Marvel comic can be considered a must-read, this is one that can.

Here’s the skinny, for those who haven’t been following – Jessica Jones, star of the magnificent Alias and assorted titles and one-shots since, is probably the best original character that Marvel has come up with over the past decade. But a crucial part of her character is that she has superpowers, and doesn’t really use them – she’s someone who knows that while those who wield great power also have great responsibility, part of that responsibility lies in only employing them if you’re the right kind of person to do so. And for a multitude of reasons, having tried to be a superhero, she retired. It’s been hinted at for some time that she might return to her Jewel identity (despite the harrowing negative personal reasons for giving it up in the first place), and I’ve long thought it would be a terrible idea – but remained willing to give it a chance in the hope that there’d be good reason for it, and it’d be well-executed, and the moment given the gravitas it deserves. Sadly, this issue provides none of those things.

It’s all the more galling for being written by Jessica’s creator, Brian Michael Bendis. He should know this is a big deal. And yet, having recently had a story in which the New Avengers freed Luke Cage from Osborn Towers – and in which Jessica steadfastly remained at home – we now find her joining the (entirely female, conveniently) effort to break out Hawkeye (two points come to mind, here – firstly, the NAs must know their way around that place with their eyes closed by now; and secondly, how does this all fit together chronologically? By my count, Clint was captured before Luke, so why didn’t they rescue one when they were busy getting the other?). It’s a decision that’s over with in a moment, and yet has negligible impact on the story – all of a sudden, Jessica is simply there with the rest, in costume, practically hanging around in the background. And that’s it. Eight years or so of character development were leading to… this?

But if that’s the issue’s major disappointment, that’s not to say there aren’t others – primarily in the choice of Mike Mayhew as artist. He’s turned in some fine covers for Marvel in recent years, but on this evidence he needs to be filed with the Gregs Horn and Land as people who can paint lovely single images, but who simply aren’t sequential storytellers. And the photo-referencing is immensely offputting, whether it leads to inconsistent characters (Osborn doesn’t look anything like he’s ever been drawn, while Carol Danvers changes face and body shape by the panel), or because of the fact that Hawkeye has been so obviously cast as Cary Elwes (it makes me wonder if stills from Robin Hood: Men in Tights were the only archery-related references Mayhew could find). And the final page – already rendered somewhat unfathomable by the fact that the comic leading up to it, although predictable enough by its title, has been delayed until next week – is just a bizarre bit of facial work that almost looks laughable.

I’m not someone who’ll often slag off Bendis – I like him more than it seems a good proportion of the internet does – but that’s what makes it so disappointing when he turns out a book as weak as this. New Avengers remains a pretty decent read in general, but an Annual should feel like it does something special – this, though, is pretty easily skippable, especially given the surfeit of similar stories we’ve been fed recently.

But dammit, never mind even that it’s a new #1 – the fact that it’s a new issue of Powers is still enough to bring me crawling back: I loved this book too damned much in its heyday to give up on it now. And the year-long break in publication at least offers the chance to step back and start to look at the book’s world from a new perspective, and more effectively take the story in new directions. Not least due to the new partnership that makes up the book’s lead pairing (although Bendis assures readers as early as this first issue’s letters page that Deena has most decidely not gone for good, which is encouraging) – although on early evidence, the dynamic needs a bit of work to be both compelling, and also distinguishable from the way Christian and Deena were in the book’s very early issues; I can’t help but wonder if it might have been better to have his new partner distrusting of him, rather than retreading it being the other way round.

Where this manages to interest, though, is in taking us back to the realm of flashbacks to Walker’s earlier life. Throughout Forever, the running theme was of him as the implacable good guy – so it’s genuinely a jarring moment to see him as part of a Rat Pack-esque gang of ’50s powers, bullying and… well, gangstering their way through life. The suggestion that he’s clearly not “all there” at the time – as evidenced by constant references to his drinking – would seem to offer an explanation, but I’m fully intrigued as to how he got into that state in the first place. But it’s only the flashbacks (and the points at which they tie to the story in the present) that really drive the issue along – and they can’t shake off the feeling that Powers‘ current setup feels a bit lifeless without you-know-who around.

Still, it’s effortless in its craft – from the characteristic flair with dialogue, to a pretty funny opening scene featuring a useless powered hoodlum with an uncanny resemblence to Joss Whedon (no, seriously), and of course the artwork of Oeming – although a gratuitous sex scene almost feels like it’s in there purely because… well, because it’s Powers. But I’ve got to admit – as suspicious as I might want to get about the motivations behind taking such a long break, it may just have worked. I was looking forward to this a lot more than I would have been had there only been three months rather than a year since the end of volume two; and while it may not be setting the world on fire just yet, you can forgive a lot when you’re just glad to have an old friend back.