David Stabler’s “What Is the Story of Captain Picard?” explores the fictional biography of the captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D as well as the making of “Star Trek: The Next Generation” and its place in the “Star Trek” franchise, past and future. Stabler notes how Gene Roddenberry and the “TNG” writers chose Picard’s name in honor of brothers Jean Felix and Auguste Piccard, Swiss chemists and balloonists, while basing Picard’s personality on C.S. Forester’s Horatio Hornblower. He explores the development of the other main characters on “TNG,” notable adversaries, and some of Picard’s greatest adventures. Pointing the way forward, Stabler discusses the character’s legacy and how it influenced spin-off series “Star Trek: Picard” in 2020, the second season of which was in production at the time Stabler wrote. He concludes, “Today, it is impossible to imagine ‘Star Trek’ without Picard” (p. 106). This book will appeal to young Trekkers looking for a convenient reference work as they learn more about “Star Trek” or to parents who want to introduce their children to the franchise. It also nicely compliments the non-fiction biographies in this series and would go well alongside books on science and aviation pioneers like “Who Were the Tuskegee Airmen?”, “Who Was Neil Armstrong?”, “Who Was Jacques Cousteau?”, “Who Were The Wright Brothers?”, and “Who Was Galileo?” or titles focused on entertainers like “Who Was Chuck Jones?”, “Who Was Lucille Ball?”, “Who Is Stan Lee?”, and “Who Is George Lucas?”. Another book in the “What Is the Story” series focuses on Captain Kirk.

In “American Born Chinese,” Gene Luen Yang alternates between a fictionalized account of his youth, the story of the Monkey King from Wu Cheng’en’s “Journey to the West,” and a satirical account of Chin-Kee, who represents the unkind way that Anglo-Americans view Chinese and Asian immigrants as well as personifying the identity that Chinese-Americans seek to repudiate in order to be seen as more than their ethnicity. His use of humor and dynamic character designs will help this story reach all audiences and give them a greater understanding of the immigrant and first-generation experience, though filtered through Yang’s unique perspective. Disney+ recently adapted this series, but they left out Chin-Kee. Even though the character fulfills a valuable narrative purpose, such an overtly racist caricature would not work well for a corporate streaming service’s production.

James Tynion IV’s “The Sandman Universe: Nightmare Country – The Glass House” collects the first six issues of the “Sandman” spin-off comic as well as “The Sandman Universe Special: Thessaly” #1 featuring art by Lisandro Estherren, Patricio Delpeche, and Maria Llovet, colors by Delpeche and Llovet, letters by Simon Bowland, and covers by Reiko Murakami. In the story, the new Corinthian and the cat that was Madison Flynn investigate the Prophet organization and its connections to a new club, The King of Pain. The angel Moroni continues to work to spread the life story of Madison in order to attain new power while the owner of The King of Pain, Azazel, seeks to tempt the Corinthian to embrace his old ways. Drawn into the investigation, Thessaly finds herself an unlikely ally of Lucien, Madison, and the Corinthian, though she remains at odds with the Dream King. The story reveals that all of these occurrances connect to the larger conflict between Dream and Desire, with Desire launching their plan back during the events of “Three Septembers and a January” from “The Sandman” #31. These additions to the Sandman Universe continue to expand the world beyond Neil Gaiman’s original epic, though Dream only makes minor appearances so as to leave his narrative largely intact should Gaiman return at a later date. Tynion ably adds to the larger meta-narrative than began in the 1990s with various “Sandman” spin-offs. This second volume resolves much of a story points from the first volume, though it leaves the door open to continue exploring Desire’s plans. The ending may strike some readers as abrupt, however. Hopefully the larger narrative of Dream and Desire continues to play out in future volumes.

Meg Cabot’s “Black Canary: Ignite” features art by Cara McGee, colors by Caitlin Quirk, and letters by Clayton Cowles. The story focuses on a middle-school-aged Dinah Lance who plays in a band with her friends Kat Van Dorn and Vee Ramirez. Dinah wants to eventually become a police officer like her father, but he worries about her as she begins showing signs of having powers when she can break things with her voice. Meanwhile, a mysterious figure lurks nearby observing her as a villain from Dinah’s mother’s past returns. Cabot delightfully introduces the Black Canary to a new generation of readers in this reimagining of the character. The story resembles the magical girl genre of manga, though with elements of punk rock akin to Marvel’s “Spider-Gwen.” McGee’s illustrations and Quirk’s colors perfectly match the energy of the story. This would be a fun book for DC fans to give to their younger children as well as to read themselves.

Devin Grayson and Becca Farrow’s adaptation of Tamora Pierce’s “First Test: Protector of the Small – Book 1” faithfully adapts the first book of Pierce’s third Tortall quartet. The story introduces Keladry of Mindelan, who trains as a knight a decade after the events of the “Song of the Lioness” quartet in which Alanna trained and Jonathan of Conté made it legal for girls to train. Kel faces an uphill battle from the beginning with an added probationary period which other pages need not pass, though she seeks Lord Wyldon’s approval. Her sponsor, Nealan, sponsors her in the training and helps her learn the unofficial rules of training. Along the way, Kel discovers that she has a secret benefactor and makes friends while she challenges the systemic bullying at the school. Each of Pierce’s Tortall quartets may be read on their own and this works as an easy entry point for new readers, though some prior familiarity with “Song of the Lioness” and “Immortals” will help readers appreciate the world that Pierce built. “First Test” may appeal the most to new readers’ tastes, however, and what they expect from YA fantasy. Grayson’s adaptation honors the original text while taking into consideration the areas in which the art will tell the story. Farrow brilliantly compliments Pierce and Grayson’s writing with distinctive character designs and great visual world-building. Her art and Grayson’s adaptation will introduce new readers to Pierce’s writing and enhance their appreciation of Tortall. The book concludes with Farrow’s character sketches and a glossary of medieval and fantasy terms for newcomers. I look forward to Grayson and Farrow continuing to adapt the other books in the “Protector of the Small” quartet.

James Sturm and Joe Sutphin’s adaptation of Richard Adams’ “Watership Down.” The story faithfully retells the tale of a group of rabbits who seek a new home following the destruction of their warren, encountering other creatures, rabbits from different warrens, and elements of the human world that take on monstrous forms in the minds of the rabbits. The rabbits have their own mythology, though the allegory of their adventures was inspired by Adams’ experiences in the Battle of Arnhem in 1944. Sturm and Sutphin’s adaptation uses the graphic medium to visually capture the scale of the rabbits’ world as well as their emotions. Their adaptation will serve as a nice introduction to new readers or a supplementary volume for teachers incorporating “Watership Down” into their classroom syllabi.

In “The Vice President’s Black Wife: The Untold Life of Julia Chinn,” Dr. Amrita Chakrabarti Myers argues, “Lying at the crossroads of race, sex, and politics, Julia’s life illuminates how some Black women in the Old South utilized interracial partnerships to negotiate and acquire a modicum of power for themselves and their families while simultaneously highlighting the clear limits of that power: the farther away the Johnson women moved from home and their networks of privilege, the less authority they had” (p. 1). Dr. Myers thoroughly researches Julia Chinn’s family from the historical record, including what personal correspondence survive as well as contemporary letters and newspaper coverage, while also incorporating later popular historiography and family histories to contextualize Julia Chinn’s legacy. Acknowledging the gaps in the historical record, Dr. Myers acknowledges that “to reconstruct the lives of enslaved women, to write Black women back into the historical narrative,” she “must use materials created by white folks, white men, who never intended for their documents to highlight Black women’s voices” (p. 7). Dr. Myers argues, “Although sexual unions in the Old South between white slave owners and Black enslaved women were common, these ‘relationships’ were always complicated affairs, where enslaved women had limited options, none of which were good, and little choice in the matter because of the intersection of slavery, racism, and patriarchy” (p. 35). Julia Chinn’s narrative, then, should not be read as one of romance as there always existed a power imbalance between her and Richard Johnson while the society in which they lived inscribed its own rules on all relationships. As Dr. Myers notes, “The Johnsons’ relationship was…never a love story. Richard was always a slaveholder. Julia was always his property” (p. 85). Despite these constraints, Dr. Myers argues, “This was Julia Chinn’s main mission. Like Black mothers well before her and those who would come long after, every step she took was carefully planned so her descendants would rise up higher, and go much further, than she herself ever would” (p. 55). When Richard Johnson opened the Choctaw Academy on his property for Native American children, it revealed the complicated racial hierarchy that shaped the lives of white settlers, enslaved and free Black people, and Native Americans. Dr. Myers argues that the episode reveals “how settler colonialism and white supremacy warps everyone” (p. 88). Similarly, the liminal semi-public space of the church afforded another realm in which Julia Chinn and her daughters might enjoy an elevated position due to class within the confines of race due to the church’s place outside of civil governance (p. 91-115). Though most modern national histories may offer only a brief discussion of Richard Johnson’s political career, Dr. Myers reveals how his relationships played a critical role in shaping that career in his own time. She examines contemporary newspaper coverage and argues, “Having sex with a Black woman and fathering children of color hasn’t prevented other white men from running for political office in the United States… The problem for Richard, however, was that he… was open about his relationship with Julia. He never married a white woman for cover” (p. 132). Going public nearly derailed his national political ambitions. As it was, Johnson became the first – and only – Vice President elected under the Twelfth Amendment (p. 157-158). Even then, he could not secure a second term as Vice President. In death, his brothers sought to disavow his and Julia’s union as well as their children (p. 169). As a result, “National attitudes toward Blackness, slavery, and interracial sex all played a role in erasing Julia Chinn and her daughters, Imogene Johnson Pence and Adaline Johnson Scott, from US history textbooks as well as from the memories of their own families” (p. 189-190). Their descendants crossed the color line, though some retained an inkling of their family’s history. Dr. Myers’ book reveals the critical intersection of race and gender in U.S. history with a focus on local, state, and national politics. Julia Chinn’s connection to a Vice President of the United States makes this history all the more important as Johnson and Chinn’s connection was known in their own time, but has since faded into the mists of history. The Vice President’s Black Wife reveals the complicated narrative of U.S. history while recovering the story of a forgotten figure who helped shape that history. This book is critical reading for any historian of nineteenth-century America.

Lauren Myracle’s “Victor and Nora: A Gotham Love Story” features art by Isaac Goodhart, colors by Cris Peter, and letters by Steve Wands. The story reimagines the meeting of Victor Fries and Nora Faria, both of whom have experienced tragedy in their seventeen years. Victor researches cryonics in order to treat disease after losing his older brother, Otto, in a fire when they were younger. Nora, suffering from chrysalisis, knows that her degenerative disease will inevitably lead her to lose herself before losing her life. Each touched by tragedy, they meet in a graveyard and find renewed life in each other’s company. Victor’s drive begins to extend to Nora, trying to give her perfect days while also researching ways to forestall the effects of her disease. The result is a great tragic retelling of Victor Fries and Nora set in the modern day. Goodhart’s art uses visual language to alternate between hope, with butterflies, and doom, with dark birds, flitting around the story. Peter’s colors similarly punctuate the story as she alternates between warm oranges and reds and colder blues and purples depending on the character or the scene. Myracle brings this classic comic book narrative into the modern era in the style of contemporary YA fiction as a great introduction to these characters for newcomers and a fun retelling for established fans.

Gene Luen Yang’s “Boxers,” the first volume of his “Boxers & Saints,” tells the story of Little Bao from Shan-tung at the end of the 19th century and beginning of the 20th. He sees missionaries from Europe disrespect his people’s ways, destroying their local god and encouraging them to adopt Christianity with the threat of violence. Having grown up on operas about his people’s history and legends, Bao loved his culture and viewed the local god as a familiar, comforting presence. Feeling adrift and lost following floods, Bao learns kung-fu from a traveling merchant and channels his energy to help others. He begins to lead a movement across the country against Europeans and missionaries, initially sparing local Chinese that had converted to the new religion. With time, Bao and his followers become more fanatical and kill even those who follow the missionaries’ teachings, eventually burning down Hanlin Academy library in order to clear a path to the foreigners’ compound. Yang uses magical realism to show how the Boxer Rebellion was a clash between belief systems and how easily a movement can become subject to its most extreme members. He similarly demonstrates the plurality of Chinese culture at the time through the Kansu Braves, a Chinese Muslim group that was loyal to the Qing. “Boxers” is a great introduction to the topic for newcomers and Yang includes a guide to further reading in the back.

Marjorie Liu and Jason Aaron’s “Star Wars: Han Solo” collects “Han Solo” #1-5 written by Liu, penciled by Mark Brooks, inked by Brooks and Dexter Vines, colored by Sonia Oback and Matt Milla, lettered by Joe Caramanga, with cover art by Lee Bermejo, Tula Lotay, Olivier Coipel, and Kamome Shirahama as well as “Star Wars” #8-12 written by Aaron, penciled by Stuart Immonen, inked by Wade von Grawbadger, colored by Justin Ponsor, lettered by Chris Eliopoulos, with covers by Stuart Immonen, von Grawbadger, and Ponsor. The first five issues from the “Han Solo” miniseries focus on Han and Chewbacca entering the Dragon Void race as cover to pick up Alliance spies within the first year after the Battle of Yavin. They do this as a secret mission for Princess Leia in a story that explores Han’s morality and sense of duty. The story evokes Brian Daley’s “Han Solo Adventures” from the late 1970s, though using the current aesthetic of the “Star Wars” galaxy. The “B” story, from “Star Wars” #8-12, alternates between Han Solo and Leia Organa’s encounter with Sana Starros, who claims to be Han Solo’s wife and wants to collect the bounty of Leia, and Luke Skywalker traveling to Nar Shadda seeking a covert way to Coruscant in order to learn more about the Jedi. The Han/Leia/Sana story has the types of romantic misunderstandings that characterize Han and Leia’s relationship in the Original Trilogy. Meanwhile, the Luke story affords a deeper look at Luke’s process of learning more about the Jedi and the Force following Ben Kenobi’s death but prior to his trip to Dagobah. In this, it resembles elements of Kevin Hearne’s “Heir to the Jedi.” The addition of these stories to the “Han Solo” collected book feel somewhat disjointed. They work well as “Star Wars” books, but are tonally and thematically different than the “Han Solo” series. That being said, fans of the Original Trilogy will enjoy this collection and its character-driven stories.