Chapter 9 – What Happens to a New Fictional Black Character Deferred?

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: This guide contains detailed spoilers for the entire novel. Proceed only if you've finished reading or are comfortable knowing the plot.

Summary

Evans opens with the central challenge of being a Black nerd: the patience required to wait for characters who look like you to appear, and the anxiety of never knowing when they will show up again. He critiques the industry practice of creating new Black and POC characters only to abandon them in “comic book limbo” — a state of obscurity comparable to the Upside Down in Stranger Things.

He provides a series of case studies:

Kasper Cole, a biracial Black/Jewish hero who impersonated the Black Panther and later became the White Tiger, vanished for thirteen years after his series The Crew ended, only reappearing in a silent cameo.
Orpheus (Gavin King), introduced as “the Black Batman” in 2001, was killed off after barely a year of appearances.
Empress (Anita Fite) debuted in Young Justice with a rich backstory and her own villain, but has not been seen since 2008.
Jakeem Thunder, a Black boy wielding a genie-like sprite, had sporadic appearances from 1998 until 2010, then reappeared only in a supporting role in 2020.
Muhammad X appeared in a single 2002 Superman issue to challenge Superman’s racial politics, then never again.
A planned 2011 story featuring Sharif, a Muslim hero, was replaced by a filler story, and DC’s spokesperson vaguely justified the change.

Evans identifies a recurring pattern: when a person-of-color character takes over a legacy mantle (e.g., Miles Morales as Spider-Man, Sam Wilson as Captain America, Riri Williams as Ironheart), the original white hero eventually returns, and the character of color is either sidelined or demoted. The only exception he notes is Kamala Khan as Ms. Marvel, because Carol Danvers had already upgraded to Captain Marvel.

The chapter pivots to a real-world parallel: the backlash against Amandla Stenberg’s casting as Rue in The Hunger Games, where some viewers admitted they cared less about Rue’s death because she was Black. Evans connects this fictional devaluation to the real-life deaths of Black women and trans women, underscoring how representation in comics is not merely escapism but a reflection of societal attitudes.

He concludes by calling for better creative teams — preferably of color — to revive existing Black characters instead of endlessly manufacturing new ones that vanish into limbo. Evans argues that if a character like Hawkeye can be revitalized by a stellar creative team, there is no excuse for leaving a whole roster of deserving heroes “riding the pine.”

Key Events

Introduction of the concept of “comic book limbo” and the patience required of Black readers.
Catalog of disappeared Black characters: Kasper Cole (13-year gap), Orpheus (killed off after a year), Empress (last seen 2008), Jakeem Thunder (sporadic appearances), Muhammad X (single issue), Sharif (story cancelled).
Analysis of the legacy-character pattern: original heroes return and characters of color are moved aside.
Real-world pivot: the Rue casting controversy and its connection to real violence against Black people.
Final call for creative teams of color to rescue existing characters from obscurity.

Character Development

Evans uses his own evolving perspective as the chapter’s main character arc. He begins with the frustration of a lifelong fan and methodically builds a case that the industry’s treatment of Black characters is a systemic failure. His emotional investment in each character — from Orpheus’s humor to Empress’s costume — gives the reader a stake in their fates.

Among the comic characters themselves, development is truncated: they are introduced with potential, then abandoned. The chapter’s argument is that they deserve the room to grow that white legacy characters routinely receive.

Themes, Symbols, or Motifs

The Raisin in the Sun: Drawing on Langston Hughes’s poem, the title and recurring motif equate new Black characters with a raisin left to dry out — a deferred dream. Characters are presented, then shrivel into obscurity.
Comic Book Limbo: A central symbol for the state of being forgotten but not quite dead; a space where potential goes to waste.
Legacy vs. Originality: The tension between creating new POC characters and honoring the few that already exist. The legacy-mantle system is shown as a trap rather than a path to lasting representation.
Devaluation of Black Life: The chapter explicitly links fictional deaths and disappearances to real-world indifference toward Black and trans women, arguing that representation affects how real people are valued.

Why This Chapter Matters

This chapter is a foundational critique of diversity practices in mainstream comics. It shifts the conversation from “we need more new characters” to “the characters we already have deserve better.” By grounding the argument in specific publication histories and linking fictional treatment to societal attitudes, Evans makes a case that resonates beyond fandom. The chapter also models how a Black nerd’s perspective — historically marginalized in comics criticism — can illuminate patterns invisible to white readers. It is a call for accountability from major publishers and a defense of the emotional labor that fans of color invest in these stories.

Study Questions and Answers

1. What does Evans mean by “comic book limbo,” and why is it a problem specifically for characters of color?
Comic book limbo refers to the state where characters exist but are never used — not killed off, not retired, just ignored. Evans argues that this limbo disproportionately affects Black and POC characters, who are created for short-term diversification efforts and then forgotten, while white legacy characters continue to receive multiple titles and reboots.

2. How does the legacy-character pattern (e.g., Miles Morales, Sam Wilson) undermine lasting representation according to the chapter?
Evans shows that when a person of color inherits a white hero’s mantle, the status quo almost always reverts: the original hero returns, and the new bearer is demoted or given a separate, less prominent identity. The only exception is Kamala Khan, whose mantle had no prior white claimant. This pattern means representation is temporary and conditional.

3. Why does the author connect the fictional treatment of Rue to real-world violence against Black women?
After quoting a tweet that admitted Rue’s death “wasn’t as sad” because she was Black, Evans argues that this fictional devaluation mirrors the broader society’s failure to mourn Black women and trans women who are killed. The chapter insists that representation in comics is not trivial; it shapes how readers perceive the value of real Black lives.