I freaking love The Mutants.

This phrase has a double meaning—I love both the story and the titular heroes, who are, in fact . . . not really heroes.

Mutants is a superhero story on the surface, a tale of people discovering amazing abilities thanks to genetic mutations.  They can heal, fly, read minds, control minds, see the future, run fast as fast can be, teleport . . . anything you can imagine, there’s probably someone out there who can do it.

But all this comes with a catch.  Many of them are dying, some from cancerous growths, some for no discernible reason at all.  But no matter the ailment, one thing is almost certain—the same mutations which give them their superhuman abilities are the “villains” causing their very human mortality.

Society doesn’t know what to make of them, many fear them, many want to use them, or study them.  Very few view them as actual people with a right to a life of their own.  Some feel their gifts are meant to save the world, and are eager to use them to heal or bring justice to evil doers.  But it’s not the world that needs saving.

It’s the superheroes.

Mutants is not a drive-thru McDonalds offering of wham pow action and simplistic bad guy/good guy struggle. It is a slow burning saga, focusing on the intricate, realistic inner struggles that people undergo whether they have "powers" or not. Themes of friendship, love, trust, betrayal, isolation, longing, freedom, sacrifice, justice, obsessiveness, desperation, and identity weave in and out from various perspectives. The story is designed to last for the long haul, but it’s a saga well worth reading if you’re looking for a realistic, thought provoking piece.

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