Medical Mentions Book Reviews XIV — Genre Fiction Edition

Book Reviews by Matt Peters

 

Medical Mentions are a group of graphic works. The graphic works reviewed here are books whose primary topics are not medical, and yet they cover a medical topic with some depth at some point in the work. The rest of the work might be fictional or nonfictional, while the medical portion is often technical and five pages or more. The reviewer will usually neither recommend nor discourage reading the work, except when the rest of the work is deemed outstanding or terrible, respectively. Typically, six graphic works will be part of the review with one paragraph for each. Prior Medical Mentions can be found at I, II, III, IV, V, VI , VII, VIII, IX, X – Comic Strip Edition #1, XI, XII, and XIII – Comic Strips Edition #2 – Big Apple Almanac. With that in mind here’s Medical Mentions XIV – Genre Fiction Edition.

 

Medical and other important themes: cancer, nutrition, addiction, police brutality, sexual assault, misogyny, transphobia, residential care facilities, essential healthcare workers

 

Avengers Assemble Featuring Captain Citrus #1-3 by Ralph Macchio (writer), Kevin Sharpe (penciler), Rick Magyar (inker), and Jay David Ramos (colorist); comic book; 16 pages per issue; 2014-2015; Marvel Comics

 

The U.S. Department of Agriculture has often been cited for its problematic dual role, simultaneously acting as a champion of agribusiness and an authority on human nutrition and public health. Serving both the producers and consumers of food, critics have argued, compromises its ability to provide transparent, unbiased guidance on what we should be eating. Despite that flaw, the model has been reproduced in various state agencies, one of them being the Florida Department of Citrus (FDOC), an agency responsible for everything citrus in the Sunshine State, including “marketing, research, and regulation,” according to its website. Wearing those hats, the agency debuted a spokesperson in a superhero outfit in 2014. The FDOC commissioned Marvel Comics to produce a three-issue comic series that would hype citrus products for both their great taste and health benefits. Enter John Polk, a young adult from a citrus farming family who gained his superpowers from a pair of small glowing orbs that he found in his family’s grove. Choosing curiosity over caution, Polk touched the orbs, which then bonded to his hands and gave him superhuman strength, the ability to fly, and the power to convert solar energy into temporary solid (and visible) shapes—which he can use to create shields, projectiles, and other tools. He’s also a true believer in the benefits of his family’s citrus crops, and he defends his state’s groves (sometimes with the help of the Avengers) from multiple villains who variously plot to destroy or control the industry: Leader in issue one, Justin Hammer and Blizzard in issue two, and Kang the Conqueror in issue three. The series is often light on exposition, barely explaining the rationales the various villains have for targeting citrus producers, not to mention the origin of the orbs that turned Polk into Captain Citrus. Perhaps the greatest mystery of all, though, is why the series focuses almost entirely on promoting orange juice, as opposed to whole citrus fruits that provide more fiber. That, perhaps, can be chalked up to the conflicting roles of the FDOC. In the end, the series ends up being more entertaining than informative.

 

The Death of Captain Marvel by Jim Starlin (writer, penciler, inker) and Steve Oliff (colorist); ISBN: 0-939766-11-6; paperback; 64 pages; 1982; Marvel Comics

 

In the Marvel comics universe, the original Captain Marvel, introduced in 1967, was a human-like alien named Mar-Vell, a warrior from a hostile extraterrestrial empire who was sent to Earth to initiate an invasion—but who ultimately betrayed and defected from his empire, becoming so enamored with humankind that he found a new calling among Earth’s superheroes. This particular character shouldn’t be confused with Carol Danvers, the Captain Marvel that Marvel Studios adapted for the big screen in its 2019 film starring Brie Larson. Multiple Marvel characters have been known as Captain Marvel, in part because the first iteration suffered from ho-hum sales. Recognizing the commercial flop it had on its hands, Marvel eventually decided to cut its losses and let writer Jim Starlin give the original Captain Marvel a sendoff. Starlin, whose father had recently died of cancer, decided to use the task in front of him to process his loss. In Starlin’s story, The Death of Captain Marvel, published in 1982, Mar-Vell learns that he has cancer, the result of a past act of heroism that exposed him to a carcinogen. The revelation prompts Mar-Vell to record an oral history of his life and to reconnect with allies from past adventures. The story thus becomes one of Marvel’s first major crossover events, with characters like Daredevil and Storm (and many more) showing up to say their good-byes to Mar-Vell. Immersed in science-fiction and fantasy, The Death of Captain Marvel provides a depiction of cancer with mixed relevance to real-world medicine. In brief moments, Mar-Vell’s weight loss and cancer pain offer recognizable reflections of cancer. At other moments, his high-tech life support tunic and disease-modifying wrist bands take cancer into the realms of speculation and imagination. Overall, the story does its best work capturing some of the emotional weight of a cancer experience. In fact, the story resonated with enough readers that it ironically brought Mar-Vell some newfound popularity just as Marvel was retiring him from its panoply of superheroes. Over the years, Marvel honored the original’s legacy by introducing other versions of Captain Marvel—bringing the current total to eight versions.

 

Gray Cells by Lawrence Goodman (writer), Kay (artist), and Corey Ranson (colorist); ISBN:  978-1915387882; paperback and digital; 140 pages; 2021; Markosia Enterprises Ltd.

 

Content Advisory: Drug addiction, gun violence, kidnapping, police brutality, strong language

 

In Gray Cells, writer Lawrence Goodman and artist Kay explore real-world social issues in a fast-paced story that combines elements of horror, urban fantasy, and crime noir. The story is set in a city where structural violence is commonplace, from overburdened social services to widespread police misconduct. Against that backdrop, Gray Cells follows journalist Lina Santos as she tries to uncover the story behind the disappearance of a local boy named Josh Glass. Complicating her investigation is the apathy of the detective who’s on the case, as well as a biased law enforcement system that assumes Josh was simply a runaway from a broken home. His mother, Ms. Glass, struggles with drug addiction, so law enforcement personnel simply write off Josh as another child fleeing neglect or abuse. But Lina follows her intuition that there’s more to the story—and soon discovers that the story goes far beyond what she could have imagined. Piece by piece, Lina finds evidence pointing toward a magical underworld where a malevolent being called the Frogman holds Josh and other children captive. As Lina investigates, Ms. Glass is the center of another narrative thread that is more relevant to graphic medicine. Ms. Glass is put in detention as a suspect in her son’s disappearance, providing a fictional example of how addiction is often treated as a crime instead of a medical issue. In detention, Ms. Glass goes through drug withdrawal and is ordered to attend a recovery group. The graphic novel has a gritty intensity that lends itself well to its crime noir elements, but it does a disservice to Ms. Glass’s character arc, leaving little room for the kind of nuance or sensitivity that a topic like addiction could use. A forthcoming sequel to Gray Cells, titled White Noise, is slated to have a larger focus on healthcare—and will hopefully bring more moments of subtlety to its storytelling.

 

MAW by Jude Ellison S. Doyle (writer), A.L. Kaplan (illustrator), and Fabiana Mascolo (colorist); ISBN: 978-1684158409; paperback; 128 pages; 2022; BOOM! Studios; author website: https://judedoyle.com/

 

Content Advisory: Gun violence, sexual assault

 

In MAW, writer Jude Ellison S. Doyle and artist A.L. Kaplan blend crime noir, supernatural thriller, and dark fantasy in a graphic novel that puts body horror and feminist metaphor at the center of its storytelling. As the story opens, two sisters, Wendy and Marion, travel to a remote coastal community to attend a women’s empowerment retreat. What should be a restorative and affirming experience, though, soon takes a turn for the worse. When the two arrive, Wendy quickly warms up to the retreat-goers who greet her; Marion, on the other hand, is slower to settle in, in part because she’s not sure how well she’ll be accepted as a trans-woman. Marion opts to withdraw from the group on the first night there and visit a nearby bar, where a seemingly friendly local soon welcomes her and offers her a drink. Hours later, Marion wakes up on the beach and realizes she’s been drugged and raped. Initially, Marion’s experience of sexual assault survival highlights real-world issues, such as barriers to seeking medical and legal help. As the story unfolds, though, Marion’s trauma starts to take on otherworldly qualities. What Marion describes as a “hunger” transforms her physically, giving her a monstrous appearance and an appetite for human flesh. In this new form, Marion becomes a sort of feminist antihero, seeking deadly revenge for both the acute trauma of her recent assault and the cumulative trauma of living in a patriarchal and transphobic society. As Marion’s life descends into terror, Doyle and Kaplan deliver a story with engaging plot twists, pointed social commentary, and evocative imagery.

 

Paranoid Gardens by Gerard Way (writer), Shaun Simon (writer), Chris Weston (artist), and Dave Stewart (colorist); ISBN: 978-1506741192; paperback and digital; 176 pages; 2025; Dark Horse Comics; author website: https://www.gerardway.com/

At its most basic, Paranoid Gardens is a story about the daily toil of a frontline healthcare worker named Louise “Loo” Martinez. The graphic novel follows Loo as she handles a slate of responsibilities for residents of the Paradise Gardens care facility, tending to their comfort, hygiene, entertainment, physical activity, general health, and quality of life. Along the way, the story captures the stress and anxiety that come with her work. However, Paranoid Gardens is no typical healthcare drama. The genre-bending story is also a mix of science-fiction, fantasy, dark humor, and surrealism. The employees and residents of Paradise Gardens include ordinary humans, superhumans, monsters, and extraterrestrials, and the place itself is sentient and appears to have something akin to an immune system. Seemingly mundane events at Paradise Gardens spark periods of decline or restoration—or in some cases moments of violent upheaval, its walls cracking and lawns splitting open in sudden shocks. As a suspicious outside group offers to rescue Paradise Gardens from its strange ailments, Loo starts to discover her own ability to heal the facility. It never feels entirely clear whether any of the forces at play in Paranoid Gardens were meant to be metaphors for real-world issues in healthcare. In a very vague and general sense, though, the graphic novel will likely resonate with anyone who’s felt that something is amiss in the world of clinical care, be it provider shortages, a patchwork of siloed health data systems, the high costs of a for-profit system, or something else.

 

 

Matt Peters is a program manager at Health Sciences Design, an interdisciplinary health innovation program at the University of Arizona Mel & Enid Zuckerman College of Public Health. He is also a longtime comic book reader and collector who can be found from time to time at his local comic book shops. Views expressed are his own.