Welcome, dear readers, to another week of comics and commentary at Comics! The Blog! We kick things off, as always, by handing out awards for the Best of the Week - beginning with two Award postings, followed closely on Tuesday with this past week’s Best.

It’s getting hard to remember a time without Captain Marvel. Not without it in my pull list, mind you - I jumped on with the most recent relaunch - but with the very idea of Carol Danvers herself in this new role. Legacy roles in superhero comics are very hard to thread the needle on, because there’s always the risk the reader may have a nagging feeling at the back of their mind that this isn’t the real character but Kelly Sue DeConnick‘s run on the series has been so immediately indelible, so remarkable, that last week I found myself seeing a picture of a cosplayer dressed as Carole when she was Ms. Marvel - only a year and a half ago - and had the distinct thought, Who is that? The great triumph of the book has been that it’s hard to remember that Carole ever wasn’t Captain Marvel, and it’s also the great ironic lynchpin of Captain Marvel #17, the last before its February relaunch, because right now Carol doesn’t remember being anything.

At the end of “The Enemy Within,” Carol was left without her memories after her battle with the Kree Yon-Rogg, and the series’ Infinity tie-ins explored the depths of her sense of duty even without a sense of why, but now, with some moments to breathe in the aftermath in #17, Carol is exploring what it means to be her when she can’t just punch her way into distraction. She finds a new place to live. She’s working on re-establishing her personal relationships and even going for Captain Marvel lessons with her biggest fan in the world, Kit. At every step of the way, Carol is visibly struggling with how to be who people expect her to be, and the way DeConnick, Felipe Andrade and Jordie Bellaire show these quiet, sad moments are some of the best in the issue, as well as the series’ entire run. Everybody else knows who Carol is, but how does she live up to those relationships? How can she feel like she deserves it, or the city-wide celebration that unhinges an Ayn Randian demagogue of self-interest into the issue’s conflict? The issue places her straight in the middle of this crucible, between these positive and negative expectations, and… Carol Danvers passes with flying colours. The art by Andrade and Bellaire shows it all with quiet worry, impactful action and even whimsy. The entire book’s team have presented a big, wonderful paean to the idea of what it means to be Carol Danvers, and no matter how unsure she is of herself, there’s one thing that’s never up for question: she is Captain Marvel.

In an issue about the relationship between a hero and her community, it’s hard (and unwise, given the cover) not to read it as a love letter to the Carol Corps, the vocal and dedicated fanbase who have helped make this book the celebration that it is and ensured that Carol’s story will keep going. It’s been really remarkable to see this book find its voice and fans along the way, and to count myself among the faithful with a hand-painted Captain Marvel shirt of my own. In a really weird, uneven year for myself, personally and professionally, having that constant thrum of humour, heroism and community every month has made things easier. Captain Marvel lessons make everything easier. So instead of a usual award, I’d just like to say thanks to Marvel for taking a chance on this book, and to Kelly Sue and her consistently excellent team for making it an exciting time to be a fan, one that I won’t forget.