I’d guess that Hope Nicholson would answer “yes” to that
last one, because her new book The
Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen is not solely populated with the
Amazonian princesses and cousins from Krypton you’d expect it to be. In
Nicholson’s estimation, females devoid of super powers such as Maggie Chascarillo
of Love & Rockets and Little Lulu
deserve a spot in a volume with a title like that. So do women as grisly as
E.C.’s Old Witch or as provocatively proportioned as Vampirella, as outrageous
as the blaxploitation exaggeration Superbitch or the heightened feminist Bitchy
Bitch, or as flesh-and-blood human as Frieda Phelps. If there’s a takeaway from
The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen,
it’s that if a major female character managed to penetrate the penis-centric
world of comics, then she’s pretty super, and you can’t really argue with that.
Nevertheless, Nicholson makes her selections in this
character compendium carefully. Don’t expect every iconic female comics
character to be represented. There’s no She Hulk no Brenda Starr no Catwoman or
Red Sonja. Nicholson seems more intent on moving beyond the obvious, with a
particular eye for underground comics. She still knows that she couldn’t get
away with sidelining such major players as Bat Girl, Super Girl, and Wonder
Woman, but I really love the fact that the author not only admits to not being
a Wonder Woman expert but also admits to only having “read maybe five of her
comics.” You usually don’t see honesty like that in the kind of book that tends
to be intent on dazzling readers with obscure knowledge.
If there’s a controlling theme its that Nicholson seems to
respect each of the characters she chooses on some level. If she chooses a
T&A title character like Pussycat, it’s because Pussycat is not just a
curvy figure but also a genuinely effective secret agent. Nicholson doesn’t give
the creators behind these characters a pass because they managed to craft a
fairly well-developed female character either. She acknowledges when they are
exploitative, and in the case of Frank Miller’s Give Me Liberty, which happens to contain a worthy female character
in Martha Washington, homophobic.
Yet Nicholson is generally more into celebrating than finger
wagging, and there is a true spirit of love at work here. Her affection for
these characters is heartfelt and palpable. Her pro-Wendy the Good Little Witch
testimonial is particularly touching. Nicholson is very funny too, and reading
her cases for and critiques of these characters is like listening to a good
buddy tell you what makes her geek out over cocktails. Next drink’s on me,
Hope.
