Jughead (2015-Present)

I’m now officially caught up on Chip Zdarsky’s new comic series Jughead, and honestly, I really enjoy it.  I wouldn’t have thought I needed any more reasons to be excited about Jughead being canonically ace, but I found another one – if this hadn’t happened, I can almost guarantee that I would’ve never started reading (or possibly ever even heard of) this exceptionally fun series.

At first glance, Jughead seems like a dangerous character to put in the central role, at least from a fandom standpoint.  His origins in the Archie comics place him squarely as the best friend, the funny sidekick.  Now, characters like this tend to be enormously popular, and for good reason, but there’s also a good reason for keeping them in a supporting position.  Countless sitcoms have run into trouble when they discover – and subsequently overuse – their breakout character.  Push that sort of character to the forefront, and you might wind up with an Erkel.  Sure, Jughead is great when he’s Archie’s sarcastic slacker buddy with a hole in his life that only hamburgers can fill, but if you give him his own comic, do you run the risk of ruining him?

In this case, those concerns are happily unfounded.  Jughead rocks his own comic – honestly, I’m a little surprised at just how well it comes together.  You wouldn’t necessarily think a lazy kid whose chief preoccupation is his appetite would make an engaging protagonist, but Zdarsky’s initial series arc has found a way to incorporate a lot of action while still maintaining Jughead’s core character.  The first issue introduces Mr. Stanger, the new Riverdale principal with rigorous expectations and totally suspect motives, and he becomes an immediate enemy to Jughead by replacing the normal cafeteria food with high-nutrition slop.  Food being Jughead’s first love, this gives him a reason to get off his butt and do something, and also puts him in Stanger’s crosshairs.  From there, we see the escalations of Stanger threatening Jughead’s loafing way of life, Jughead pushing back/becoming a bigger target, and even better, Jughead beginning to realize just how bad news this guy is.  Suddenly, you have the funny, hungry slacker very unexpectedly finding himself in the center of a crusade, with very few allies because, as the funny, hungry slacker, no one takes him seriously.  Plenty of fertile ground for storytelling.

Also, it’s super fun.  The plots are crazy-in-a-good-way, the jokes range from fantastic to just-on-the-right-side-of-corny, and tons of natural humor shines though in the characterizations.  I just love the opening scene of issue #3, in which a dejected Jughead, deprived of his video games, works an imaginary controller while mumbling to himself about the bosses he’s killing, and I get a kick out of Archie’s periodic meta queries on why people aren’t more interested in what he’sup to.  The comic also works in some extra entertainment through regular dream sequences.  Each is set up like a separate mini-comic with the larger issue, with its own title and sensibility.  In his head, Jughead has been a time traveler, a secret agent, a pirate, and a superhero, and he’s also given us a fantastic Westeros parody in Game of Jones (ha!)

On the aro-aceness front, the early issues include little references before the Holy-Crap-They-Just-Used-the-Actual-Word-“Asexual”-in-Casual-Conversation-How-Cool-is-That scene in issue #4.  Jughead comments on his disinterest in dating now and then (again, casually – not making a big thing of it,) and he once bails on a fantasy sequence when a pretty girl in it moves to kiss him.  I like that, while he’s (thankfully!) not Asexual Jughead the Asexual Character, it is still a distinct part of his character that won’t get the mentioned-once and-never-seen-again treatment.

Asexual Sighting: Jughead Jones (Archie)

The last (possible) Asexual Sighting I did was Arthur Martin on Six Feet Under, ages ago.  Fortunately, I stumbled across this brand-new (old) discovery at The Mary Sue.  Jughead.  Canonically asexual (and aromantic.)  That happened.

Okay, background information:  Archie comics have been around since 1941, and Jughead, Archie’s best friend, has been a key member of the Riverdale gang from the start.  Like any comic series, Archie has changed and evolved a lot over its long history.  It’s taken different iterations and acquired offshoots, one of which is the new Jughead comic that began last fall.  Penned by comic writer Chip Zdarsky, it’s here that we get an ace Jughead.

Jughead’s asexuality was revealed in the comic’s most recent issue, which came out last month.  I love the issue’s handling of it for several reasons.  First, it’s not a coming-out narrative.  Within the context, it’s clear that Jughead’s friends already know about his aceness, and it’s brought up casually in conversation.  Second, his character doesn’t revolve around his sexuality.  In fact, it’s just a handful of lines on one page, the epitome of “no big deal” representation.  Third, Jughead is a 100% contented aro-ace.  He doesn’t mind being asexual at all.  Quite the reverse – he claims he’s the only one in school who “can think clearly” because he’s “not hobbled by these hormonal impulses.”  (I can relate to that; while I don’t argue that being ace is “better” or anything, I absolutely love being who I am and really wouldn’t have it any other way.)  Fourth, it fits surprisingly well into his characterization from the last 75 years.  This is no retcon situation.  Jughead has never been a big dater, and while he doesn’t hate girls or think they’re gross, he’s not into them (or boys) in “that way,” and he’d rather think about cheeseburgers than cheerleaders.  It’s just that there was no name for it in the ‘40s, and now there is.

I’ve only read the ace-reveal issue (No. 4) so far, but Jughead is enjoyable enough that I’ve ordered the back issues and plan to keep buying the comic.  Jughead himself is a fun, unlikely hero.  A bit of a slacker, a bit of a slob, but also smarter than he looks and something of a daydreamer.  He’s chill and smart-alecky, and in moments of stress (like dodgeball games,) he evidently imagines himself as a pirate named Captain Slackbeard – who doesn’t love that?  He doesn’t have the typical social-awkwardness quirks that frequency accompany suspected aceness (see Sherlock, The Big Bang Theory, and Six Feet Under.)  Rather, the only thing that signals him out as ace is simply that:  his lack of sexual attraction.  Very refreshing, and I’m looking forward to reading more.

On a personal note, this is a represention coup that feels really personal to me.  I know that comics tend to play around a bit more with the LGBTQ alphabet soup than other media do, so I wouldn’t have necessarily run out and bought any comic starring an asexual character.  But it’s Jughead.  I still have crystal-clear memories of stretching out on the floor at my grandparents’ house, reading and rereading my mom’s old, crumbling Archie comics, and I remember Jughead the funny sidekick.  This is a character who’s been part of the pop culture lexicon for three-quarters of a century, a familiar, beloved figure, and he’s like me.  That’s huge, and I’m so glad that Chip Zdarsky recognized how Jughead’s history lent itself to incorporating some sexual diversity into his hero’s characterization.  Way to go!