When you turn the first pages of Jack Kirby's Black Panther series from 1977, you realize almost immediately that, just as in Captain America which the writer/artist had also absorbed on his return to Marvel Comics, Kirby had his own ideas on how and in what kind of adventure environment the character should operate. There is no preamble to speak of in the situation which T'Challa finds himself: tagging along with a diminutive collector known as Mister Little (I trust you've made the wry connection between description and name) who's tracking down an artifact from King Solomon's tomb called the Brass Frog, which apparently exacts a deadly price for being found. Little is not alone in his quest--he's soon joined by a more unscrupulous collector, Princess Zanda, who even employs a detachment of armed men to deal with any resistance. Quite a club, these collectors.Little and T'Challa have located another collector who has been run through with a sword by what appears to be a warrior from the past; though once the assailant is dealt with, Zanda makes her entrance and seemingly terminates Little before claiming the Frog for herself. And I can almost hear the questions you're asking at this point: just what the heck is T'Challa doing here? Aside from a loose reference to T'Challa's grandfather, what does any of this have to do with Wakanda, the African nation over which T'Challa reigns? Why would Little approach him, or vice versa? What's T'Challa's stake in a collectors' spat?
So you get a sense of what we're dealing with here: the Black Panther, removed from the "comfort zone" of his kingdom as well as the Avengers, and thrown into the wildly incredible--now speaking and reacting as any other central Kirby character might, if mixed into the same circumstances. For all intents and purposes, T'Challa, at least as we know and understand him, is gone; instead, his eyes are our eyes, and his reactions our reactions, with the reader clearly meant to be put in his shoes. As T'Challa slowly peels the onion skin away from this adventure, we're thus able to mimic his surprise or sense of revelation. We're not just along for the ride--we're riding shotgun with the Black Panther.
And if you think that things stabilize in issue 2, well, that's just not the way Jack Kirby rolls, bub. Because when a stray shot from one of Zanda's men hits the Frog, we get a man from six million years in the future added to the mix. And things quickly fall apart from there:
































