In a dystopic alternate reality where the USA has been constantly at war with the Russians for a generation, a small Texas highschool experiences rebellion in the form of a terrorist known only as 499.
Back in 2019, Meyer entered the suddenly booming world of crowdfunded comics with a mission to bring back '90s-style action superhero comics. In February of 2019, he printed Jawbreakers – Lost Souls where we first meet our team of intrepid, slightly underpowered heroes. In December of 2019, he printed Jawbreakers: G0d K1ng in which he basically killed said team (spoilers?). This (frankly dopey) move is soon to be rectified, at least partly, with the upcoming "Jawbreakers: Forever" but I think it's indicative of what may be a larger issue. As it stands, Meyer's record is:
Bringing back '90s style action superheroes: 2 Other: 5 (not counting Chosin: Hold the Line)
Let me say, this is not a complaint. I don't see why the medium needs to be constrained by superhero conventions, and I suspect said constraints contributed mightily to the death of the American industry and the ceding of the terrain to the (much more diverse) world of manga.
Also, I never could get into comics in the '90s, and even while I lived with the theoretical Jawbreakers for a year before reading them and in the year between their birth and death, I didn't know them well enough to care. Of the five other books, I loved "Iron Sights" 1 & 2, and found "No" very compelling. Though just as topical—and generally if something is "topical" I avoid it like hot death—"Pandemic" felt like an intro to a larger story.
Which brings me to 499.
Here is a solid story about a no-longer-golden-boy in a fiercely fascistic society who discovers that his militaristic high school (because they're all militaristic, I think) has a secret club of artists called "499". He discovers this club about the same time as a mysterious figure known as "499" is vandalizing school property. The mystery is resolved and the protagonist's motivations are understood by the end, and it both does and doesn't suggest a potential sequel. (More on that in a bit.)
I read it, then I read it again because I realized I had not put the details together in a way that gave the story its chief impact. I liked it. Narwhal's scribble-art isn't going to draw in the oohs-and-ahs found in Meyer's other works, but it's an acceptable approach to storytelling and Narwhal sometimes gets a lot of "acting" out of a few lines.
But it also highlights, I think, Meyer's main problem in literally all his books. I feel like he falls in love with the process so much, the creativity of the writing, the collaboration of the artists, even to some degree the actual manufacturing and shipping, that he seems to forget that his audience does not live in his head and that the point of any art is to put into the medium that which conveys what is in his head to an audience that's starting from scratch.
I found myself leaning on his description of this book at times; I deliberately stopped myself from doing that because it's not a fair appraisal of a work to add other bits in. We know from this book, directly, that this is a fascistic high school and that America is at war with the Russians and has been for 20 years, and that all our characters are going off to war when they graduate high school.
The year is...I don't know. If America was going to go into a hot war with the Russians, it probably would've been after Vietnam. So it could be the '90s. There's a lot of racial diversity, but then there was a lot of racial diversity by the '90s, despite what modern revisionists tell us. But, here's the thing, would there be a lot of racial diversity if we were in a hot war with the Russians for 20 years? I don't think so. Fascistic countries are not known for being attractive to foreigners, nor for being welcoming to them.
Now, this is a minor point. Another minor point includes a complete lack of technology that wouldn't be perfectly home in, say, the '60s. I don't think we see a telephone, much less a cell phone. Or a computer. I think we have to infer that the PC revolution didn't occur, nor the smart phone revolution because any overt police state would use those aggressively (as we are currently seeing). Or maybe it's 1975.
On the other hand, there are three, less minor points: The first is the motivation of the main girl, ex-girlfriend of the protagonist.
If this is not a seires, there's a limit to how many dangling threads one can leave without irritating the audience. I am unaware of any indication that this is a series, which probably sums up the Meyer-verse(s): The books are all the tips of icebergs we never see!.
Go visit the Indiegogo campaign. First to be noted is a five-month turnaround, which is not bad. I think that's just a month later than planned. But looking at the summary only raises further questions:
-> Why the hero would get his cast fixed by high-school artists? (I presume a doctor put it on the first time.) Why would this be the time to introduce new, dubious members (two, no less!) to an underground dissident club?
-> Pressure builds for someone to identify the traitor... OK, I see this, in the sense that the principal is trying to create pressure, but in real life, this always translates to peer pressure, and we never see that in the book. Every single kid we interact with is against the establishment, with the only presumable exception being the antagonist, but even that is clearly half-hearted at best. The shorthand of using "extras" (ill-defined scribbles) had the effect on me of ignoring them, rather than perceiving them as a potential menace. So if the pressure is from the adults—well, there only three of those, and they don't seem to be very effective.
-> Paul realizes that betraying the members of the 499 Club may be his ticket back to his former glory Literally, not in the book at all. At no point does anyone offer Paul a deal, there's no thought bubble, we are denied the tension of the internal struggle of the main character.
Look, I still liked it a lot or I wouldn't have spent this much time figuring it out and writing this up. And maybe I'm just projecting: I've certainly fallen into the same trap myself. But I fear for the future of Splatto if we're never allowed to experience the worlds that are in the creators' minds. ---- Update: The same ISBN is used for the physically distinct 24-page floppy P.O.D., Narzack's answer to '80s "Twilight Zone" episode "A Small Talent For War". It's also 4-star.