Gen13 is a group of five-superpowered adolescents, plus their mentor, a middle-aged one-eyed former secret agent/commando. The kids are Caitlin Fairchild (creatively codenamed Fairchild), Roxy Spaulding (Freefall), Percival Edward Chang (Grunge), Sarah Rainmaker (Rainmaker), and Bobby Lane (Burnout). Fairchild is tall and superstrong, nearly invulnerable to physical injury I gather; Freefall has gravity powers; Grunge can alter his body into a flexible mass of any substance he has just touched (preferably one of the more durable metals when he's heading into a fight); Rainmaker has weather powers (wind, lightning, and of course rain if that seems needed); Burnout is a Human Torch type who can generate flames and fly through the air. Their Mentor is Mr. Lynch, a sour-looking fellow who apparently turned out to be Bobby Lane's long-lost father to boot. On the subject of ethnic diversity, I might mention that Grunge is obviously of Chinese ancestry, and Sarah is Native American - Apache, I think, but don't hold me to that.

Before I picked up this collection, I had not read any Gen13 comic books in several years. Of the six core characters, I only remembered the names of three from when I had read the group's origin story in the mid-90s. The fact that I never before bothered to examine copies of the ongoing series that's been coming out for the last five years or so ought to tell you something about how deeply impressed I was by the quality of the writing in that five-part origin story. But several weeks ago, on a mad impulse, I invested some money in this trade paperback collecting six consecutive issues of that monthly series (#45-50), all of them scripted by writer Scott Lobdell. Lobdell was not the original writer I remembered, nor even the one who replaced the original writer later on, and I vaguely remembered him as having written some rather funny material for Marvel Comics back around the late 80s/early 90s.

I admit he's still a pretty funny guy. But in other respects, Gen13 still emphasizes the things I remembered as being so important to its mission statement in its earliest days: the beauty of the idealized female body striking a pose. Or, to put it another way: CLEAVAGE! Gen13 works hard to earn what Hollywood would call a PG-13 rating if they were turning these stories into a film, never actually showing frontal nudity for the female characters, but definitely trying to get male adolescent imaginations moving in that direction. (Also the imaginations of males in their 20s, their 30s, their 40s, and so forth.) Now bear with me - I'm going to dissect the first story (of six) in this book, to give you fair warning of what you're in for. The other five I will leave to your imagination.

I get the impression that issue #45 was the first one Lobdell had written, and he wanted to start off on the right foot, by showing that he had already grasped the basics of what this "superhero" series was all about. Accordingly, the first scene of the first story opens up in a showroom where a dozen supermodels are parading back and forth to show off the latest creations of a red-hot fashion designer who specializes in a line of lingerie called Nastywear! Gosh, if that doesn't appeal to the sophisticated intellects of Gen13's target audience, I can't imagine what would. Three members of the group (Caitlin, Roxy, and Grunge) are in the audience. In keeping with the high tone of this scene, Caitlin and Roxy are both wearing dresses that show cleavage on top and only come down far enough on the hips to qualify as miniskirt length. Grunge is allegedly Roxy's boyfriend, but she is less than thrilled at the way he's ogling all those supermodels in their almost-nonexistent coverings. What a surprise.

Meanwhile, their buddy Bobby is backstage, looking for the designer of all this lovely stuff, Han Tsung. Apparently they were both living in the same foster home at the same time when they were younger, and became close friends, but he hasn't seen her for years. In a surprising plot twist that nearly made me faint, she has grown up to be an attractive young woman who is not wearing something that exhibits her legs and cleavage! After the preceding pages, I wasn't sure it was legal for any female character in this comic book to dress in clothes resembling what a self-respecting businesswoman might want to wear. Is there hope that this is the beginning of a countertrend? Before Bobby can find out why she was crying (she tries to duck the issue at first) his friends follow him into the room and we have introductions all around. Just as things are starting to warm up . . . the police enter to invite Han Tsung to run downtown with them and answer some questions. The four Gen13ers (if that's the word for a member of the Gen13 team) slide out of the room and go looking for their teammate, Sarah. Sarah, we quickly realize, is a staunch feminist who objects to the whole concept of mass-marketed fashion lingerie. She's standing on the sidewalk out front, holding a picket sign which reads: IF GOD WANTED US TO BE SEX OBJECTS, SHE WOULD HAVE CREATED SHEER FIG LEAVES!

She also has a bunch of pamphlets she's been distributing. Now let's discuss how she dressed for this occasion. If I were an attractive, intelligent, strong-minded young woman who wanted to publicly protest a male-dominated society's obsession with making women think they're supposed to have perfect bodies and flaunt them for the entertainment of the men in the community, what would I wear when I marched downtown with my picket? I'm actually a mere male who understands virtually nothing about women's tastes in clothing, but even so, I'm reasonably certain that what I would not wear would be a V-necked gown that shows a fair amount of cleavage, as well as being slit up the side to display my entire right leg to anyone who wants to see it. Men walking past might pay attention to entirely the wrong things instead of carefully studying the sign I was carrying. Women walking past might feel I was a tasteless parody of what a real feminist protester would look like when picketing a lingerie show. Now I'll give you one guess what Sarah is wearing when we first see her.

What's that? Did I hear someone saying, A V-necked gown that shows a fair amount of cleavage, as well as being slit up the side, et cetera? We have a winner! I might mention that no rational reason for her dressing this way in this situation was ever revealed in the story.

The five of them (mentor Mr. Lynch being mysteriously absent from this particular story) head down to NYPD headquarters and manage to butter up the laziest detective they can find by offering to let him take the public credit if they manage to solve the case for him. They just need him to brief them on a few things, such as what sort of crime Han Tsung is suspected of committing and why. He shows them video footage from security cameras around the city. It appears that during the past week, several armed robberies have been committed by gorgeous models who are always wearing Nastywear lingerie at the time . . . and, when apprehended later, swear they don't remember a thing about what they were doing in that timeframe. (In case I didn't make it clear: the NYPD quickly figured out the robbers were always wearing Nastywear lingerie, because they weren't bothering to wear anything else to cover it.) So our heroes head back to something called the New York Threadsetter Awards, at which Han Tsung is apparently a finalist, and at which models wearing her lingerie will be on display again. While four of the five dress as service personnel, Caitlin pulls on a set of Nastywear lingerie so she can inconspicuously blend in with the other models onstage and keep a close eye on anything odd, such as violent felonies.

By the way, when Bobby approaches Han Tsung again, she has changed out of her conservative clothing of before into a low-cut gown that's slit up one leg. I knew her previous appearance was too good to last. In a plot twist that would get the author burned in effigy by outraged fans if this story had been advertised as a classic whodunit, the mastermind behind those robberies only appears onstage for the first time when she starts making the keynote speech at the awards ceremony, in which she confesses everything. It appears that she was one of the world's leading supermodels once, way back in the ancient days of the early 1990s, but grew so bitter about people's attitude toward her that she decided to invest her fortune as a silent partner in Nastywear and get some revenge. When she gives the signal, all the models in lingerie get this glazed look in their eyes and start attacking the crowd. This includes the incredibly strong Caitlin Fairchild, of course.

It turns out that Ms. Odessa (the vengeful keynote speaker) has been making all the lingerie out of a revolutionary "cyberweave" which permits her to control the nervous system of the wearers. Sarah blasts her with a very precise lightning bolt in order to short-circuit the master-control-system which is built into the lingerie Ms. Odessa is wearing, without actually killing the poor lunatic. While saving the day, Sarah says sadly, "I can't believe I'm the only one who sees this as a metaphor for the entire plight of women everywhere." Nice try, Lobdell, but that dialogue isn't enough to persuade me that this story has a strong point to make instead of being full of gratuitous near-nudity.

The rest of the book continues to serve as charming eye candy, with our heroes facing a variety of villainous threats while always holding true to the moral principles which serve this book so well. What are those moral principles, exactly? Er . . . I think they're, "All young women have great figures and are proud to reveal them to the world, wearing low necklines and/or skintight tops and/or miniskirts and/or very short shorts." Gosh, it brings a tear to my eye to know that someone is still reminding the youth of America (and other parts of the world) of those sacred ideals! I buy a fair number of comic books, but I swear that the bust-waist-hips measurements of any women within are not a key factor in my buying habits. I tend to get all obsessed over this strange little thing called "the quality of the writing," instead. Please don't think that all comic books pander to the same target audience, okay?



Recommended: No