The first issue of Elfquest I read was #7 which I borrowed from my friend to see what it was like. When I finished I couldn't believe that I liked your comic book. I had never liked comics before in my life. But Elfquest is totally different from all the others. I have always loved fantasy books-- that's why I think Elfquest is the best there is. I've bought issues #1 through #11 (the latest) and I have come up with one question: Are the Wolfriders ever going to find a human friend? Perhaps someone who doesn't like the human spiritual ways, and who wants to help them out?
Danny Rodriguez
Buffalo, NY
Perhaps now with the introduction of the humans, Nonna and Adar (who, by the way, are modeled after no particular writer/artist/editor couple you might have heard about), you can see that the elves have allies if not actual friends. And these two do seem to think differently from the Gotara worshippers who appeared early on in the story. But that's the point. Fantasy is a mirror for the real world; it treats situations or problems or desires that we here might have, but it does so in a symbolic way. It allows us to experiment, to see how something might work if conditions were a little different. Don't think of Elfquest only as an escape-- try looking at it also as a door to a different reality. --RP
After months of wanting to
write in, what finally got me
going was the scene on page 19
in issue #13 with Cutter and
Skywise swimming in the pond.
At first I intended to blast Wendy
for the senselessness of it; swimming
in still ponds isn't as
romantically sensual as most
people think. The water's
muddy and usually weed
choked and frequently has
leeches. In addition it seemed
dangerously foolhardy for both
elves to leave all their clothes
and weapons sitting on shore
out of sight leaving the elves
naked and defenseless with two
humans they don't trust nearby.
It did seem like a silly thing to do
and indicated to me (and my
filthy, suspicious, muck-encrusted
mind) that Wendy just
couldn't resist putting these two
sexy elves in a compromising
position. I was just sitting down
and turning to that page to
gather ammunition when I saw
the wolves in the background
during that scene and realized
they were standing guard. I also
noticed the layout of the "pond"
and realized, despite the caption,
that it had to be part of a
river, which is a little better than
a pond.
I was then considering pontifications on a woman writer/artist handling a nude scene for a sexy male character, the reversal of what usually goes on in comics. As one of the most obnoxious advocates of heroines' rights currently writing letters on this typewriter, it seemed a sensible decision and I was really looking forward to commenting that most women under male writers get their blouses torn off by accident and/or get attacked stepping out of showers while the men under women writers all seem to swim in still ponds. But that's boring and stupid and I wanted to say something about the series other than that people in it swim in still ponds...
I've always been a sucker for Fortean stories of strange, unknown civilizations in ancient times and Elfquest is probably the best I've ever read. It even counteracts my extreme hatred of sword and sorcery epics. The quest of the elves is both fascinating due to their strangeness (I know they've got swords and wolves and wild talents and any one of them could probably tear Conan's head off but what I like best is they're so little and frail-looking and easier to pull for) and tragic nature. After all, we know the elves are all going to be destroyed so that adds an interesting undercurrent to the story. In most books, we know the good guys are fated to win. Here, however, the good guys are going to lose but they certainly aren't going down without a fight.
Leetah's a full WASP woman of the first order, maybe not a sword-swinging femizon but brave and strong willed. Let's see more of her. Get her in a still pond and make it up to Richard.
Michael Pickens
Centerburg, OH
Yeah! And until next time, shade and sweet water (such as is found in still ponds) to you.
Richard Pini