Hope Nicholson is the kind of person that makes me think, “I want to be more like her!” Not only is her lipstick always the perfect shape and hue (she used to post lots of pictures on Twitter, so that’s not an ENTIRELY weird thing to say), this Canadian gal is a fierce comics historian dedicated to finding, restoring, and reprinting out-of-print comics—her newest revival project, Sally the Sleuth, is a 1930s sex comic!—as well as promoting diverse voices through her own Bedside Press. Hope’s most recent book, The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen: Awesome Female Characters from Comic Book History, reflects her keen research skills and kaleidoscopic approach to the history of comics by presenting “the weirdest, coolest, most of-their-time female characters in comics” in a surprisingly binge-able encyclopedic form.
The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen surveys 100 female characters—both troublesome and wholesome—beginning in the 1930s with the “birth of an industry” and ending in the “digital and diverse world” of the 2010s. The sections are framed by a short introduction that provides context about happenings in the comics industry and an essay about the “icon of the decade” that features the most well-known character from the era. Hope’s framing helps to orient the reader as the medium shifts in culture, readership, and form over each decade. While these essays are short and simple, they provide an excellent outline for readers who may be less familiar with the history of comics. Perhaps more valuable, though, are the spotlights on the role of women in comics for those readers who may only be familiar with the more male-centric versions of that history. As Hope points out in her introduction to the 1930s, “women as creators, fans, and characters were right there from the start”—a narrative that often falls to the background (if it appears at all) in many books about comics.
Each character is introduced by a banner that gives her name, a brief description, a quote from her comic, the name of her creator(s), and the book in which she first appeared. These short summaries are great for any researcher looking for preliminary information about a character, especially in conjunction with the “essential reading” recommendation that often includes where to find contemporary reprints that feature the character. However, the banners also include chuckle-worthy quotes and character descriptions that every reader will enjoy. Straight from the pages of Moonshadow, for example, Sunflower is a “[w]anderlust hippie turned interstellar Madonna” who believes “[t]here’s got to be more to life than acid and Nixon and venereal disease.” It is a difficult task to boil a complex character down to a single sentence in addition to digging up an exemplary quote, but Hope crafts an informative and witty introduction to just about every character. I have no doubt that her apt descriptions will be the standard for those struggling to describe elaborate characters.
At the heart of The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen are single-page essays that critically examine the role, background, and life cycle of each character. Hope expertly weaves in the ways that the culture of the era affected the development and success (or failure) of the female characters she focuses on while simultaneously narrating the rise (and, sometimes, fall) of the character and their book. These essays may be short, but they are both informative and entertaining—a great place to start research on a character!
A self-proclaimed “feminist book,” the portrayal of female bodies and minds is integral to many of Hope’s essays. The most exciting essays for me are those that celebrate healthy examples of sex comics and their sexy characters. “How to write about a porn comic without talking about porn is a challenge,” Hope writes, “[a]nd yet porn made by women for women is pretty important to talk about.” Here she is referring to Nibbil from Colleen Coover’s Small Favors, but this is an attitude that Hope carries throughout all of her analyses. Not enough is written about sex-positive comics, and it is refreshing to read Hope’s unabashedly celebratory writing of these works. Hopefully the essays on characters like Nibbil and the more well-known Barbarella will inspire others to read, learn, and write more about sex comics.
In addition to highlighting the ways that female characters are empowered and empowering, Hope also calls attention to the ways that characters are objectified and undermined by both the creator and other characters in their stories. The voluptuous body of Pauline Peril, for example, is defined by the fact that “her chest is the size of her head and her waist is the size of her wrist,” and because she is too “dim” to see the motives behind other characters’ actions, Hope asks, “Not exactly a role model, is she?” Characters will often make readers cringe, but these female characters were chosen from a multitude of possibilities because they have a (sometimes small, sometimes big) role to play in the female-centric history that the overall book encompasses. The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen is constantly straddling the line between feminist criticism and reference book. Hope uncovers the incredible ways that female characters influenced the look and shape of comics and their inhabitants while simultaneously tracking the ebb and flow of flawed representation. By the last entry, Kamala Khan as Ms. Marvel, it is obvious that representation has both improved and still has a long way to go. Hope is optimistic, though: “If Kamala Khan signifies the future of the superhero genre in particular, and the comics medium as a whole, then I think we can all look forward enthusiastically to the future.”
It would be impossible to include every notable character, so it is inevitable that some readers will be disappointed that some of their favorites are missing. (Even J. D. Biersdorfer’s New York Times review includes a paragraph pointing to “indie notables” that “definitely feel missing in action.”) However, The Spectacular Sisterhood of Superwomen strikes a balance between the little known and the iconic that gives both diehard fans and newbies a thoughtful and fascinating reading experience. If you find yourself hungry for more, I would suggest Trina Robbins’s books about the history of women in comics—Lily Renee, Escape Artist: From Holocaust Survivor to Comic Book Pioneer; From Girls to Grrrlz: A History of Female Comics from Teens to Zines; Pretty In Ink: North American Women Cartoonists 1896–2013; and The Great Women Cartoonists—for a more detailed view of the many of the creators and characters that Hope touches on.