I wrote a review of this back when that was my job, praising it to the point the author himself e-mailed me to express his delight that I enjoyed it. My opinion has not changed on repeated readings, this volume remains in my top three runs of Greatest Fantastic Four comics of all time, above John Byrne and sort of tickling that space underneath the incomparable Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. I've been a fan of the FF since before I could even read, and Reed Richards' opening up to his infant daughter early in the run reminded me of why. He admitted his arrogance, his weaknesses that turned his only friends, the most important people in his life, into something Else, something they can never come back from. So he changed speed and instead of trying to make them normal he advanced towards the extranormal. The extraordinary. He devoted his life to giving them a life few people can even think about. Even poor Ben Grimm, cursed to be a horrible Thing, becomes a man stronger than most in his spirit and heart, willing to give up being a normal man if it means saving his family (the movies got that right, at least).
Waid takes these elements and crafts, not a reinvention, but a repurposing of Marvel's First Family and brings them back to what makes them so great in the first place. They're not superheroes. They're adventurers. They eat the unknown for breakfast, return in time for lunch, and deal with the paparazzi. They're celebrities back when that term meant something. Reed's work has changed the world (particularly unstable molecules). Waid writes him like he's lived in his head, in a place where the burden of his guilt still weighs on his mind as he's discovering other worlds and changing the face of science with every move he makes. The large and the small, the immutable understanding of human curiosity finds its echo in Reed Richards.
And that's just the opener.
Addressing the artwork by the late Mike Weiringo. There's nothing like it. Simple, daring, clean but full of detail. So far from the 90's with their pouches and guns and gritted teeth expressions, an animated style that isn't cartoony, but still active and kinetic. Not poses but posture, not grit or glamor, just fluid and alive. There's so few artists in comics these days that understood his style and the loss of him is something I lament every time I return to this book. Not fully sadness, but immense respect and awe at his storytelling and wishing we could have more. There's a lot out there, thankfully, and should you start here, you won't be disappointed.