The graphic novel 'Marvels' by Kurt Busiek and Alex Ross is this gorgeous love letter to Marvel's golden age, and it's told through the eyes of Phil Sheldon, a photojournalist who's just trying to make sense of the superheroes popping up around New York. Phil isn't your typical protagonist—he's an everyman, watching gods and monsters clash from street level, and that perspective makes the story feel so grounded. You also get these iconic Marvel figures like the original Human Torch, Captain America, and the Avengers, but they're almost like forces of nature seen through Phil's lens. The way Ross paints them—bathed in light, larger than life—it's like seeing these characters for the first time, even if you've read a thousand comics. And then there's the Sub-Mariner, who's this fascinating mix of arrogance and tragedy, especially when he crashes through the city. The beauty of 'Marvels' is how it turns superheroes into myths, and Phil's journey makes you feel the awe and terror of living in their world.
What really sticks with me is how the story doesn't shy away from the collateral damage—like when the X-Men are hunted, and Phil's caught between fear and empathy. Gwen Stacy’s death hits harder because you see it through his shock, not Spider-Man's grief. Even smaller characters like Phil’s family or his editor, all feel real, reacting to these extraordinary events in utterly human ways. It’s a reminder that superhero stories aren’t just about the capes; they’re about the people watching them fly.