There some grace in the restraint this book has, but it’s a double-edged sword.  The beginnings of stories only, old through the eyes of tertiary characters only.  Although it’s well-crafted, and the changes in artists are properly placed and not dramatic enough to take you out of the story, there’s hardly anything that feels important here.  Even the couple of villains that shows up in this is are C-list at best.  I should have known when the book started with the narration of “the face of Gotham” woman from the Denny O’Neill story, which was a excellent example of a recent “why should I care about this” moment.  And, like that series, all this has to stand on is that it’s done well, because there’s hardly any meat here.  It’s a shame, because grace and restraint are not things that are usually wielded so well in modern comic-booking.