*John Byrne’s 2112*  (1992)

$9.95 from Dark Horse

 

Credits:

Story & Art by John Byrne

Colors by Steve Oliff

 

John Byrne has always struck me as an artist and writer of contradiction.  Consider the work that Byrne did on Superman in the mid-1980s: at that point not only had Byrne reinvigorated the *Fantastic Four*  over at marvel, but he also published a little-read essay on Superman-- long before getting the DC job-- outlining Byrne's careful considerations on how Superman’s powers functioned. 

Byrne was the very first writer to suggest that perhaps Superman's vast powers were in fact an alien *telekinetic* power: Superman could fly because he was lifting himself with his mind, and he could lift airplanes because he was lifting *those*  with his mind, too.  The trick, Byrne wrote, was that Superman was unaware that he had telekinesis and thought that he had to touch everything to be able to lift it.  You see how well this works?  You see what a great trick this was?  John Byrne, without even having the assignment, came up with brilliantly ridiculous explanation just so you could have Superman carrying gigantic objects, such as airliners, without them falling apart around him.

And that to me is just the sort of thing that John Byrne was always good at: telling and retelling comic stories not with eye towards facts or "modernization," but towards *believability*  for a modern audience that still wanted to *thrill. *

It's a careful distinction I’m making.  If Allen Moore and Frank Miller were the New Wave, John Byrne was the constantly-modernizing Hollywood, with eye on past and on the New Wave, with one goal in mind: making stories that the modern audience will believe in and be excited by, exactly the same way that generations before were by *their*  respective stories.  (Also like Hollywood, Byrne seems unusually unusually fickle and quickly bored. I mean, how long was he on *The Incredible Hulk* -- three months?)

One of the things that Byrne produced during one of his fickle periods was the independently-owned Dark Horse title *2112. *  In *2112*, John Byrne creates an entirely new world set less than 200 years in our future.  And it's a beautiful future, with everything that you expect from John Byrne: lots of sprawling, continent-sized city backgrounds and all those distinctive John Byrne cheekbones on the very lovely and well-dressed denizens of the Earth of the future (John Byrne’s  future Earth will have no second-class.)

Well, there is *sort*  of a second-class: a race of people called a Halflings, genetic mutations who are shipped off to an orbiting satellite prison moments after they are born.  Our hero is Thomas, a young man who has just graduated from the futuristic Safeguard police academy and finds himself playing second banana to Prime Agent Red, an iconoclast who is naturally the only one who knows that the Halflings are plotting a gigantic invasion. The first half plays almost exactly like *Starship Troopers*.

It’s all fairly common science-fiction stuff.  But what's pleasant about *2112*  are the touches that are so distinctly Byrnesque that any fan will be pleased.  For one thing, *2112*  is essentially John Byrne doing Jack Kirby: the city designs, the juxtaposed dinosaurs and space stations, the costumes, and my God, the hair, all look as if John Byrne snickered for months as he kept one eye on Kirby’s *New Gods*  and another eye on his own easel.  The look and feel just thrills; aside from the distinctly modern references to sex and the scattered profanity, this comic easily have issued from the '60s.

In other words, in 1992, John Byrne was again answering question that perhaps no one really needed to ask: Can I make a slick, modern-feeling homage to the gee-whiz science-fiction comics of the 50’s and 60’s?  Well, heck, of course he could.

And *2112* is it.  If you ever read *Adam Strange* back in the day and liked it, or have an occasional yearning for science-fiction comics that don't involve creatures bursting out of other creature’s stomachs, you should try it.  Probably, you'll smile.

What more could anyone ask?