Two summits, very different. The passage of Frank Miller on Daredevil, where the character is born and ends, and Elektra: Assassin (launched on June 17, 1986 , Miller on screenplay, Bill Sienkiewicz in drawing), graphic object without equivalent in the production of its publisher. The rest of the corpus is then read, and is chosen according to what is expected of the character.
There are few people whose bibliography is so clearly divided. On the one hand a founding work, short and closed. On the other hand, three decades of attempts to prolong something that was not designed to last.
This tension runs through the entire corpus, and it explains why certain series work when others fail.
The founding work
It all starts in the title where the character appears, under the pen and pencil of the same man.
What is striking upon rereading is the brevity. The character is introduced, established, made more complex and then brought to fruition over a reduced portion of the series. There is no delay or flashback: each appearance moves something forward.
This economy is due to a specific editorial situation. The title was not closely monitored, its author had rare freedom, and he knew where he was going. The title leaves the costume adventure for the urban noir novel, and the character falls entirely into this new register – he would have no meaning in the old one.
This is where you have to start, without hesitation. Not out of chronological respect, but because everything that later authors exploit comes from these pages, and none has managed to tell it better.
Elektra: Assassin, the special object
Launched on June 17, 1986, this series brings together the original screenwriter and Bill Sienkiewicz to the drawing. It is, by far, the most unique publication in the corpus.
Sienkiewicz does not draw there in the ordinary sense. He paints, he glues, he distorts, he abandons the box when it bothers him. The result is as much an experimental illustration as a comic strip, and it has practically no equivalent in the mainstream production of its time.
The story accompanies this formal freedom: fragmented narration, unreliable points of view, constant irony. This is not an easy read, nor does it try to be.
Who is it aimed at? For those who are interested in form as much as history. A reader looking for action will find a confusing object; a reader curious about what the medium can do will find there one of its most radical demonstrations.
Let's clarify a practical point: this series can be read independently. No prerequisites are necessary, so it can serve as an entry point for an adult reader - provided they are willing to be pushed.
The 1990s and 2000s: three attempts
After the founding period, the publisher relaunched the character several times, with distinct approaches.
The title launched on September 25, 1996 , under the pen of Peter Milligan with Mike Deodato Jr. in drawing, seeks to reconcile the mystical register of the character with the very marked visual codes of the decade. It is a compromise of its time, interesting to read to understand an era of American comics.
The relaunch of 2001 , carried by Brian Michael Bendis with blankets Greg Horn, adopts an adult register and a rhythm of dialogue characteristic of its author. She divides: she is sometimes criticized for having more conversation than action.
The series of 2002 , written by Greg Rucka, returns to a drier approach, centered on the profession and its consequences. The same author also signed, in the same year,Elektra & Wolverine: The Redeemer , illustrated by Yoshitaka Amano— an unexpected graphic association that is worth the detour for its own sake.
Of these four publications, Rucka's is the strongest narratively, and Amano's is the most interesting to look at. None are essential, and this is undoubtedly the best summary of this period: honest attempts to give a regular series to a character whose strength lay precisely in his rarity of appearance.
The return of Sienkiewicz
One publication deserves to be noted separately:Elektra: The Hand , published from 1erSeptember 2004 , written by Akira Yoshida and drawn by Bill Sienkiewicz.
The main interest is obvious: it is the artist's return to the character, eighteen years after the series which associated them. The line has changed, the editorial context too, but the recognition is immediate.
The story explores the organization that revolves around the character rather than the character itself, which makes it complementary rather than essential reading.
Reserved for those who liked the 1986 series and want to extend the graphic experience.
The modern period
Two recent publications usefully complete the picture.
The series launched on April 23, 2014 , written by W. Haden Blackman and drawn by Michael Del Mundo, is the one I would recommend to a contemporary reader put off by the dated aspect of previous relaunches. Del Mundo works with color and composition in a way that recalls the audacity of 1986 without imitating it, and the story assumes a dreamlike register.
Elektra: Black, White & Blood , launched on January 5, 2022, adopts an anthology format: short stories by different teams, in a palette limited to black, white and red. The graphic constraint produces uneven but often remarkable results, and the short format is well suited to a character whose strength lies in impact rather than duration.
Collections, reissues and formats
A practical question which arises differently depending on the period in question, and which deserves attention.
For the founding work, the collection is the obvious choice if you want to read. The story is continuous, it benefits from being read in one go, and the original booklets cost significantly more for less comfort. Reserve the issues for collection.
For Elektra: Assassin, the reasoning is partially reversed. The graphic work is based on material and color effects that the reissues reproduce unevenly depending on the paper used. If the drawing is what attracts you, find out about the printing quality of the edition considered before purchasing - the difference is more noticeable here than on a classic line comic.
For the reminders, systematically take the collection. These series carry no collection premium, they are easily found bound, and there is no reason to chase after the booklets.
Finally, let us mention the deluxe editions and the omnibuses, which bring together several series. They offer the best content-price ratio, but their weight makes them awkward and they exhaust the subject too quickly for those who are new. Save them for proofreading.
A general precaution: check the exact contents before purchasing. The commercial titles vary little from one volume to another, and two almost homonymous works can cover unrelated periods.
False good ideas
Three errors occur regularly, and it is better to know them in advance.
Start with a recent raise. The character arrives there constituted, with a past that the story does not re-explain. We lose most of what makes it interesting, and we close the volume without understanding the craze.
Read the seminal work out of order. It's a continuous story, not a series of standalone episodes. Skipping numbers or drawing randomly breaks a construction that relies entirely on progression.
Expect consistency between sets. The relaunches do not dialogue with each other: each redefines the character according to the concerns of its author. Look for distinct propositions, not continuity.
What the character owes to his absence
A basic remark, which sheds light on why so many reminders disappoint.
In the founding work, the character functions largely through what he does not say. His past is mentioned without being detailed, his motivations remain partially opaque, and the story is careful not to explain everything. This reserve is the essence of its effectiveness.
The authors who came later mostly did the opposite: filling in the gaps, specifying the origins, justifying the choices. The intention is understandable - you can't run an entire series on nothing said - but the result takes away from the character what made him intriguing.
The publications that work best are those that accept this constraint. The 1986 series pushes the opacity to the point of making the narration itself uncertain. That of 2014 assumes a dreamlike register where explanation has no place. These are not coincidences.
For the reader, the lesson is simple: do not expect this corpus to provide you with a coherent biography. Look for variations on a figure, and judge each series on what it offers rather than what it adds to the case.
Two possible routes
It all depends on what you're looking for, and neither path is better than the other.
The narrative journey. The founding work first, in order, then the 2002 series for a serious revival of the character, then that of 2014 for a contemporary version. Three steps, a readable progression, no unnecessary prerequisites.
The graphic route. Elektra: Assassin first, for shock, then The Hand to find the same artist, then the 2014 series for comparable audacity in current language. This route ignores the chronology of the character and follows that of the images - it is suitable for those who come from drawing rather than from the story.
On prices, see ourdecryption of the rating; on the 1980 issue, ourarticle devoted to its three editions.
What readers are asking
By the founding work, in the series where the character appears, written and drawn by the same author. Not out of respect for chronology, but because everything that later authors exploit comes from these pages, and none has managed to tell it better. The story is brief, continuous and without delay.
The drawing of Bill Sienkiewicz, who does not draw in the ordinary sense: he paints, glues, deforms and abandons the box when it bothers him. Launched on June 17, 1986, the series is as much an experimental illustration as a comic strip, with a fragmented narration and unreliable points of view. It can be read independently, without any prerequisites.
The one launched on April 23, 2014 by W. Haden Blackman and Michael Del Mundo, if the dated aspect of the relaunches from the 1990s and 2000s puts you off. Del Mundo works with color and composition in a way that recalls the audacity of 1986 without imitating it, and the story fully assumes a dreamlike register.
Unevenly. That of 1996, by Peter Milligan and Mike Deodato Jr., is especially interesting as a testimony to an era. The 2001 revival by Brian Michael Bendis is divisive, with more talk than action. The one from 2002 by Greg Rucka is the strongest narratively; In the same year, the same author wrote a story illustrated by Yoshitaka Amano which is worth the detour for its graphic aspect alone.
The collection to read the founding work, which benefits from being read in one go, and for relaunches, without collection bonus. For Elektra: Assassin, on the other hand, find out about the printing quality of the planned edition: the graphic work is based on material effects that the reissues restore unevenly depending on the paper.
This is the most common error. The character arrives there already constituted, with a past that the story does not re-explain: we lose the essence of what makes him interesting and we close the volume without understanding the craze. Also avoid reading the founding work out of order, as it is a continuous story and not self-contained episodes.
Because they fill the gaps. In the founding work, the character functions through what he does not say: a past mentioned without detail, opaque motivations, nothing explained. The following authors have mainly clarified the origins and justified the choices, which removes from the character what made him intriguing. The series that succeed are those that accept this opacity.
No, and you shouldn't wait for it. The relaunches do not dialogue with each other: each redefines the character according to the concerns of its author. Approach them as distinct propositions rather than as chapters of the same story—that's the only way to appreciate them for what they are.
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