Absolute Wonder Woman #1, set in an alternate dimension where DC Comics’ superheroes have all-new origin stories, reimagines Diana Prince. No longer a princess of paradise island Themyscira, Absolute Diana Prince is raised in literal Hell. Does that change the kind and generous being that Wonder Woman is?
Absolute Wonder Woman #1
Kelly Thompson (writer), Hayden Sherman (artist), Jordie Bellaire (colorist), and Becca Carey (letterer)
DC Comics
October 23, 2024
The latest comic book in the Absolute Universe of DC Comics is out, and this time it’s the Amazon warrior, Diana Prince/Wonder Woman herself. The Absolute line reimagines the origins of its heroes, and in Absolute Wonder Woman #1, we see that Diana’s life is very different. The young warrior in this version of events is the last of her kind, banished to Hell as a sin against the gods—rather, a god, Zeus, because he’s never not had an ego too big for his head. Who is Diana without her Amazonian upbringing? That’s what this series aims to discover.
I am almost ashamed to admit that I’ve read very little of Wonder Woman. I’ve read more about the character in think pieces and academic essays than actual comic books starring the DC Comics superhero. Even though I’m a comic book fan, and Batman is the character who introduced me to the universe, as much as I am enthralled by the myth and the legend of Wonder Woman, my interest in reading books starring her has eluded me. It’s less any ingrained misogyny and more my concern about what I’ll find in those pages—what’s going to annoy me? The story, the art, something else? Do I want to find out? It doesn’t help that the one Wonder Woman book I adore is the young adult off-shoot, Wonder Woman: Tempest Tossed, which is, like Absolute Wonder Woman #1, more of a reimagining than a main title story.
So, reading Absolute Wonder Woman #1 makes me feel a little like a fraud. I am not an expert on the character. Would I know how to feel reading a new take on her origin story? Well, that’s the beauty of comics, especially Elseworlds —they reel you in, at least by being a new start and not issue #146 in volume XXXIV.
Absolute Wonder Woman #1 starts with an alien invasion of Earth. While terrifying, what’s more terrifying about these creatures is that they are harbingers of something much worse. Fortunately, Diana arrives to protect the hapless humans. Readers are supposed to be shocked to see how different she is. How far those differences go (or don’t go) is unfurled through flashbacks, arguably the strongest element in the book. I love the mother-daughter tale of reluctant burgeoning love between Diana and Circe. But that’s the only major positive I found while reading this book.
I have read some of Kelly Thompson’s work before, and I unluckily picked up several where the stories didn’t grip me from the get-go. Absolute Wonder Woman #1 has the same issue. The main story is simplistic and uninteresting. Creatures coming at you, people in peril, a hero attempting to win a battle—we’ve seen this before. The writing is spare, which lends itself to an ominous atmosphere, but that’s undone almost immediately by the dialogue for Circe, which is incongruous with the setting and the other people she’s interacting with. Circe speaks with a modern cadence and parlance which is at odds with the bombastic style of Apollo, or the reverent style of Diana. You can put a modern spin on how Circe views the sexism of the gods without creating disparate dialogue for her.
What Absolute Wonder Woman #1 is missing is focus and depth. This book is about Diana, but she’s an enigma here. Wonder Woman battling nameless hordes that can be decimated without thought takes away the emotional heft from her characterization. We are left speculating what the core of her story is meant to be because we’re only given one scene that’s Diana’s eureka moment to get into action. That’s not enough to build the stakes of her character. The writing is so barebones that I couldn’t get an understanding of what it means that Diana is not an Amazon anymore, and doesn’t have her Amazon family. Possibly I’m missing the context because I haven’t read many of Diana’s stories, but having just read Absolute Batman #1—and I don’t want to compare books, but they’re in the same series, so I can’t avoid it—I’m surprised at how little I get of Diana. Bruce is hardly in his first issue, yet I know exactly what his place is in this version of the story. With Diana, growing up somewhere that’s not Themyscira should have so much heartache and anger, and it’s dealt with too swiftly. Perhaps the rest of the series will tap into her mourning something she’s never even known, but without that emotional connection, the writing falls flat.
Or maybe it’s the magic. Add magic to a comic book and I’m out. I often find it a frustrating plot device, impeding the storytelling. Where is the tension if everything can be solved through magic?
I don’t think my issues with Absolute Wonder Woman #1 are helped by the fact that a woman with no interest in children is saddled with one, and must fall in love with that child. The story that develops is beautiful—albeit brief—but what would have happened if the woman had simply not cared or known what to do and had walked away? What if it was a man in her place? I ponder these questions because what’s the point of changing Diana’s origin story if fundamentally the story is still written with the same pressures and expectations of every other story we’ve read.
The book is also straining to delve deeper into the evils of gods, but holds back there, as well. However, I do like that Absolute Wonder Woman #1 isn’t subtle about the power of words. If you ban a word, it gains power, which, and I could be reading too much into this, could be a critique of what American politicians and bigots keep forgetting when they attempt to ban books and pronouns. Something doesn’t just ‘go away’, like Diana in Absolute Wonder Woman #1, she comes back stronger than ever, and she’s ready to battle.
Visually, you know you’re in for a dynamic and vibrant comic book when Jordie Bellaire is on colors, and she doesn’t disappoint. There’s so much red in this book, and each use is similar yet distinct. The harbingers have bright red skin, but it evokes the reddish hue of the creatures Diana befriended in Hell. The red on Diana’s armor ties in with her mother’s red belt. There are other subtleties in the color choices that excited me even more—especially the colors of the lanterns in Hell, changing from harsh yellows, to cool night/reading lights. There are three spreads in Hell that I kept going back to, studying the details that artist Hayden Sherman and Bellaire brought out through their work. So much is told to us through their art, it’s a reminder of how important artists are in developing the story of a comic book.
Unfortunately, it’s not all perfect. The art left me flummoxed part of the time in Absolute Wonder Woman #1. Sherman has an eye for detail, and their ability to produce a sense of movement in their art is outstanding. But I also found several pages confusing and frenetic. Early on, there’s a page where people are running in a frenzy—amazing, great work, I can see the panic, but there’s also a focus on a certain character in the corner. Are we seeing them come closer to us? Are they significant given their hair color? Like what’s happening here? It’s unclear. This problem crops up a few times, especially during the battle scenes in the book.
But, my biggest criticism with Absolute Wonder Woman #1 has to be with the drawing of baby Diana. The only question I have is, was that intentional? Proportion-wise, I’m delighted that Diana is sized like a baby with rolls and chubby cheeks. It’s the face—why does she look like that? And more importantly, why does her baby face change from her first page to the next one? So many questions, though I wonder if the answer is that given the origins of Diana being tied to Greek mythology, perhaps Sherman was purposefully paying homage to how weirdly babies were often painted or sculpted by ancient artists. Whatever the case, it’s a strange choice.
Absolute Wonder Woman #1 is intriguing but not arresting. I didn’t get a sense of ambience or vision for where Diana’s story is headed. I worry that the best part of the story, the familial relationship, has already been wrapped up, undermining any investment we may have for the rest of the series. But the art is beautiful, and Diana herself has the potential to carry one’s interest forward. I’m disappointed that I am not more excited after this book, but hopefully, I will be after the next issue.
