one seldom feels cheerful 20

A writer named Claremont marked an X

Signifying hatred and violence and sex

His influence spread

What came next inbred

It is the inescapable text

We, ah, reach that awkward point in this improvisation where I admit that the work of Chris Claremont is a bit of a blind spot for me. I’ve read some, barely scratched the surface. Mostly via a subscription I had as a kid one year for X-Men Classic, the reprint series for X-Men ala Marvel Tales for Spider-Man. The bit that I had covered Uncanny X-Men #189-200, which is a helluva run. John Romita, Jr. young and energetic, Xavier in leather and fishnets, Nimrod roaming the subways, Magneto on trial... I don’t remember a lot, bits and pieces. Some other X-Men comics here and there. Had a black and white mass market paperback reprint of a two-parter with Arcade and some other issues, too. Never went back and read the whole thing. It’s so big, so influential, that you don’t need to experience it directly. And, in my experience, when you do, it’s a letdown due to just how many folks ripped it off.

Uncanny X-Men #402 shows the potential of the Joe Casey Uncanny X-Men run as he begins to push beyond. You can see the influence of the Freedom Force, of course. And of X-Force, but that wasn’t Claremont, was it? A challenge to the monopoly of The Dream. It actually began with the previous issue, but that was one of those ‘Nuff Said silent issues and we all know how uncomfortable English lit guys like me are with the pictures. It’s a fine enough issue and I salute the intrepid critic who would tackle those issues first and foremost... This followup to the introduction of the X-Corps lays it all out. Sean Cassidy (Banshee) has started up a new mutant police force in Europe and our Uncanny cast don’t like it one bit, willfully blind to the rampant hypocrisy behind every one of their objections. You can argue that Uncanny X-Men #394 or Poptopia or even Uncanny X-Men #400 were the failures of Casey’s time on the book, and I’d have a lot of time for those arguments. But, for me, it’s the X-Corps and the way that Casey began to look beyond the limits of the X-Men a little, venture away from Wildcats and towards Wildcats Version 3.0.

Going back to The X-Men #1, there haven’t been many challenges to Charles Xavier’s way of doing things. The primary one has always been Magneto, followed by Apocalypse. Cable’s X-Force was an alternative/evolution of the New Mutants, but, really, not that different. The Counter X titles tried to take some of the characters in different directions, as did the change from Cable to Solider X. The Milligan/Allred X-Force was definitely different, but seemed relatively divorced from the grand question of mutant ideology, focusing more on the celebrity angle. Presented here, Cassidy’s X-Corps is meant to be a different sort of very public face for a ‘good’ mutant group. Not superheroes; police. Working with authorities to handle mutant issues, arresting mutants, dispensing mutant justice... all with sanction from the EU via Cassidy’s old Interpol contacts.

The reaction from Nightcrawler, Archangel, Iceman, Chamber, and Stacy X seems to boil down to “Who said you could do this?” Before you get into the specifics of their complaints, that’s the core principle and, honestly, the only one truly worth exploring at first. Who owns The Dream? Who’s allowed to act on their interpretation of it? In the mind of the X-Men, it’s only them. Only Xavier’s chosen few can enforce The Dream. Unless, of course, they decide that Xavier himself has lost his way and, then, it’s them. Unless, of course, some of them disagree with the rest of them, and, then, it’s... er, both of them? What I enjoy most about Nightcrawler being the de facto leader of this group is that he brings the cult subtext just that little bit to the forefront. That idea of the bubble that is escapable, is infallible, that you must bend the knee to. If you are not with the X-Men, you are against the X-Men.

Can you do a mutant comicbook for Marvel outside of the X-Men?

For the first time during his time on Uncanny X-Men, Casey seems to be striving for something new. What started as ‘pop eats itself’ and X-Men comicbooks are about X-Men comicbooks has turned into what else can they be? You can draw vague similarities to Freedom Force working for the US government, including that some of its members are present as part of X-Corps, but a truly separate approach to human/mutant public interaction that is not based on antagonism, instead showing that mutants can work with humans to handle mutant problems? That feels like something worth exploring, worth seeing if it’s got some juice. It doesn’t feel as new as it is. You may instinctively say “Claremont did it!” and, while it rubs up against some stuff, as presented, a true alternate method separate from the X-Men that isn’t based on being a ‘supervillain’ is different.

It all goes to shit, of course. This is the beginning of the end, the true failure of the run. I don’t know where the blame for the rot lies exactly. Maybe it was Casey not realising what he had? Maybe it was editorial afraid of what it had? Maybe it was the general superhero comicbook reversion to the mean that is oh so frustrating. Ultimately, you can’t escape the bubble. Even the seemingly ‘good’ alternative must be ‘bad.’ It sucks and it is what it is.

“Forget it, Chad, it’s Poptopia.”

starless inscrutable hour 19

In the name of Claremont will you mutant me up that comicbook,

Shall I doodle cave-phantoms?

We, ah, reach that awkward point in this improvisation where I admit that the work of Chris Claremont is a bit of a blind spot for me. I’ve read some, barely scratched the surface. Mostly via a subscription I had as a kid one year for X-Men Classic, the reprint series for X-Men ala Marvel Tales for Spider-Man. The bit that I had covered Uncanny X-Men #189-200, which is a helluva run. John Romita, Jr. young and energetic, Xavier in leather and fishnets, Nimrod roaming the subways, Magneto on trial... I don’t remember a lot, bits and pieces. Some other X-Men comics here and there. Had a black and white mass market paperback reprint of a two-parter with Arcade and some other issues, too. Never went back and read the whole thing. It’s so big, so influential, that you don’t need to experience it directly. And, in my experience, when you do, it’s a letdown due to just how many folks ripped it off.

That’s the feeling of Poptopia. A rip off. Haven’t I read these stories before? Or at least heard about them? If Claremont is the Platonic Ideal, then we’re definitely watching shadows on the wall. A mutant leaving the X-Men in the hopes of living a normal life? Claremont did it. A group of desperate, freakish mutants living in the sewers? Claremont did it. A popstar all up in mutant affairs? Claremont did it. A mysterious mutant exterminator with a name recalling a previously known entity that thematically connects to what it’s doing? Claremont did it. You know the gag, because another show did it.

Except, where Claremont referenced Shakespeare and the Bible, all Casey has are mascots and X-Men comicbooks. The fight between Storm and Callisto for leadership of the Morlocks is turned into a barely-there conflict between Nightcrawler and the Cyclops. Except, there is a double meaning to the Cyclops’s name, both obvious. Immediately, he recalls the X-Men’s longstanding leader and guiding light – but, also, his own namesake, the mythological being with only a single eye in the middle of its forehead, which is how this mutant appears. Like Callisto, this character is a reference to mythology, going beyond the obvious self-referential bit to something more archetypal in its influence on all Western literature... and, by doing so, turns back on itself to point to Callisto, whose name is also taken from mythology, making the mythological reference actually an X-Men comicbook reference. Even when you think you’ve escaped, all roads lead to Xavier. The biggest twist is that Nightcrawler simply leaves the conflict, not wanting to earn the respect of these mutants through violence.

The little twists on the stories already told is the point. Take what came before and make it your own. It’s a longstanding tradition in storytelling, somehow seen as less than within the realm of superhero comicbooks. But, when you cast the Claremont run into the foundational mythological base of the X-Men – the ur-text, if you will – what other options are there? It’s no win. Everything is a variation or a reaction. You either become Claremont or you respond to Claremont. Casey takes Claremont on his own terms, casting these stories in new lights that make sense within the context of Casey’s body of work. A superhero not interested in solving problems with violence? See Adventures of Superman. A brooding former superhero looking to make a new life and avoid trouble in the spotlight of the tabloid media? See Automatic Kafka. A superhero comic that is so influenced by a single creator that you could argue that it turns that creator’s work into a genre unto itself? See Gødland.

If Warp Savant is a Casey stand-in, a metaphor for the comicbook obsessed continuity-junkie that takes it all in and has his very own head canon, then he’s Casey as a Claremont character. And his head canon is Casey’s through the lens of Claremont as a genre. What follows is Poptopia, a fever dream straight from that particular mind. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes that the entire Casey run takes place within Warp Savant. Metaphorically, of course. Isn’t that what all comicbook runs are? Little, self-contained pockets of cultural reality that we stack up to form our own canons? “Consistency, not continuity” is just another way of saying “What makes sense to me.” If an X-Men comicbook goes unread, did it even add to the mythology? I don’t want to say that Casey’s run doesn’t have its fans and its influences, but, alongside the joint run of his Man of Action cohorts and many others, it’s all detritus. Stacks of stories that are supposed to ‘count’ somehow, but I didn’t read so who cares. Maybe someday they’ll ‘count’ if I get around to them.

That makes this whole run an exercise, of sorts, that stands by itself. If there is any interaction, it’s with the idea of Claremont’s X-Men work as a genre unto itself, and Casey’s other work. If there’s a Venn diagram, welcome to the centre. That makes the choices somewhat purposeful. It’s not hard to see Chamber as the flipside of Warp Savant. Similar ages, looks, outlook on life... but for a giant hole blasted in one’s chest, you know? Attacking a military base and saving a popstar aren’t so different when you realise it’s the same impulse, the same desires... X-Men comicbooks are about X-Men comicbooks... And, if Warp Savant is Casey and Chamber is Warp Savant, then Chamber is Casey...

If you like Casey...

the cruellest month 18

O O O O that Claremontean Rag—

It’s so uncanny

So x-treme

We, ah, reach that awkward point in this improvisation where I admit that the work of Chris Claremont is a bit of a blind spot for me. I’ve read some, barely scratched the surface. Mostly via a subscription I had as a kid one year for X-Men Classic, the reprint series for X-Men ala Marvel Tales for Spider-Man. The bit that I had covered Uncanny X-Men #189-200, which is a helluva run. John Romita, Jr. young and energetic, Xavier in leather and fishnets, Nimrod roaming the subways, Magneto on trial... I don’t remember a lot, bits and pieces. Some other X-Men comics here and there. Had a black and white mass market paperback reprint of a two-parter with Arcade and some other issues, too. Never went back and read the whole thing. It’s so big, so influential, that you don’t need to experience it directly. And, in my experience, when you do, it’s a letdown due to just how many folks ripped it off.

Warp Savant is a pure Joe Casey character. That gleeful embrace of villainy, that energetic youthful disregard for maturity and authority, those misremembered song lyrics... But, he’s also a character in an X-Men comicbook and he owes some of his elements to Chris Claremont because they all do. It may just be the leather jacket and mesh tank top, that youthful club look straight out of a punk fetish magazine. He looks like he should be hanging with the Morlocks or be a Hound from the future. His M face tattoo is taken from Bishop. He’s every seedy kink from that run except utterly sexless at the same time. A pale imitation of that Claremontean character type that we’re all vaguely familiar with, using a plan that the original X-Men villain tried and failed at decades earlier (or however long in continuity). Walking X-Men comicbook mishmash, a refugee from continuity and canon. There’s a mysterious element to Warp Savant that feels like the bad, rotting influence of Claremont. A villain that appears from nowhere, no past, no clear motive... just fucking shit up and disappears without a trace. We don’t know he died. He’d probably come back as another lost Summers brother.

His name has long vexed me. I know we’re at the point in superhero comicbook history where there’s a premium on original names as, let’s be honest, were it not for copyright law, you’d have a ton of Supermans and Megamans and Ultramans and so on running around. On some level, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Casey was in the middle of his Wildcats work and chose to use the word ‘Savant’ in the name of a new mutant character given that Claremont is the co-creator of the character Savant from way back in WildC.A.T.S. #11. A small, subtle connection – though, how subtle, really? How many Savants are there running around the worlds of superhero comicbooks? Throw it all in the pot.

X-Men comicbooks are about X-Men comicbooks.

Poptopia.

It’s not a bad thing, by the way. If you looked across the hall, you would’ve saw Grant Morrison doing similar things. Using and reusing old ideas in new ways. Self-referential, deep cuts for the true fans, and unable to escape the insulated bubble world. It’s like Warp Savant casts a spell here, brings us all inside his head canon with him. The shifting, mixed up world of X-Men comicbooks where you’ve already read them all and the details seem familiar yet fresh. Chris Claremont as a genre. Casey taps into the first bit of soap opera from Claremont’s time with the characters, finally delivering on it, only to explain it away as a half-remembered dream, basically.

“DO YOUR RESEARCH...” Warp Savant advises Jean when she uses telekinesis to knock him down but not out. It’s a warning, a bit of friendly advice from the ‘next Kurt Busiek’ per Wizard. Casey’s Marvel career to this point had been bad rush jobs or comics peppered with continuity minutia for the True Believers out there. He may have been more of an Avengers guy, but even he had a passing familiarity with the X-Men. Enough to understand its roots and the major figure that looms over the characters. Hell, he was displacing him by taking over Uncanny X-Men given the way that Claremont’s long-heralded return flopped with readers. He still had his fans and those that got what he was laying down (I’m in the tank for Jim Starlin, similarly), enough to warrant his own new X-Men series... but not enough to headline.

But... he... is... inescapable...

Did people want more Claremont? Was it even possible to not give that to them? As I said, you could make a very good argument that Morrison did the same thing, but they managed to make it seem fresh enough to, somehow, win readers over. Joss Whedon would do something similar with Astonishing X-Men eventually. How many ‘definitive’ runs can a superhero comicbook have? At what point does the assumed supremacy become the actual supremacy in effect? You can call Casey’s run a failure (and he’d most likely agree), but how many succeeded? After Claremont’s departure, it chewed folks up and spit them out... including Claremont himself...

All that remains is a scene where all of the X-Men have Chris Claremont’s face, saying nothing but CLAREMONT...

Son of man,

You cannot say, or guess, for you know only

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,

And the dead tree gives no shelter

the cruellest month 17

“Ahhhh, Poptopia... I remember being more jazzed about the story titles than I was about the actual story, as it ultimately played out.” And what a title it is, Joe; a title that seems to encompass everything about this run on Uncanny X-Men. A thought experiment of culture and comicbooks and the ‘real’ world all smashed together in a little bubble. As the refrain goes X-Men comicbooks are about X-Men comicbooks and so too Poptopia. You could call Uncanny X-Men #394 “Poptopia Part Zero” rather than “Playing God,” if you wanted to be a bit more on the nose regarding its place within the run, both thematically and literally. Despite the fact that the issue is an outlier in its cast and plot, call it a prelude, a prologue, an introduction, an overture... It sets the stage for all that follows, setting out the big ideas under ten tons of interpersonal soap opera.

But... who is “Playing God” exactly?

Presumably, we’re meant to think it’s Warp Savant as he invades the Cape Citadel and uses his powers to absorb the various soldiers and X-Men he encounters along the way. Deciding who lives, who dies, who gets teleported inside his head. There isn’t much to that, though. It’s all kind of laid bare right there. “Evil mutant runs amok playing god” is so ho hum. By that same token, it’s a little dull to say it’s the X-Men, as a group or as individuals. Cyclops taking up the role of Xavier, to a degree, puts himself in the position of the moral authority on the actions of mutants. He decides what is and is not acceptable. Meanwhile, Wolverine is the sort to maim and kill as he sees fit. When he dives from an airplane, claws popped and arms extended toward Warp Savant, what do we think his intention was? Like Warp Savant, that willingness to kill, to choose who lives and who dies, is a fairly basic definition of the concept. None of them truly live up to it.

You could go ‘meta’ and say that it’s Joe Casey. As writer, he decides everything about the comicbook. He writes the script that is then executed/interpreted by several other collaborators. None of the character decide that anyone lives or dies in their world... Casey does. There is no free will in fiction, it’s all determined by the writer, even if their method is one where the characters seem to ‘write themselves.’ Superhero comicbooks in shared universes for the big publishers provide an interesting case of this as there is no singular God, but a rotating, changing cast that ‘plays’ God in a sense, filling the role for a time until they no longer do. The title could be Casey’s recognition of his place within the creative hierarchy, an acknowledgement of his eventual ousting from this work-for-hire gig, supplanted eventually by Chuck Austen just as he supplanted Chris Claremont. This definition plays around with a bit of the metagames that Casey is playing in his run where the repetition of certain broad plot concepts represents his place in the long succession of creatives who preceded him – and will follow. Might as well called it “Rearranging Deckchairs on the Titanic” if that’s the case. A suitable possibility... or part of the answer?

Let’s return to Warp Savant... Yes, I already discounted him as the eponymous deity gamer due to the blasé nature of piggybacking off the lives/dies nature of his powers. I tend to prefer a definition of “playing God” that extends beyond the binary of alive and dead. That’s flipping a light switch, people, not acting as the creator of the universe. Except, that’s not exactly what Warp Savant’s powers do, is it? He doesn’t kill people. He doesn’t kill at all. He transports matter from one world to another. The inside of his head is an alternate reality of his own creation. He does not have total conscious control over it – or any control – and that does not matter. It is his world full of people and objects that he chooses to place inside it. He creates a landscape that may or may not change depending on his whims. And what makes up his little world? The esoterica, the random matter that he encounters. There is no purpose, no rhyme, no reason. It’s all whims and chance. A collection of information with a hint of curation. He takes from the world to make his world.

Earlier this month, I compared his powers to the accumulation of knowledge that comicbook fans have. The piles of continuity that create each personal head canon. That’s all Warp Savant is doing: head canon. He takes what he wants, ignores what he doesn’t. And the resulting world is far from perfect, patched together from the randomness. To paraphrase a literal genius, “His utopia is more of a Poptopia.”

And, at the end of the issue, he goes into that Poptopia himself, no one seems to care, no one notices, everything returns back to interpersonal soap opera because X-Men comicbooks are about X-Men comicbooks. That’s all they are, you know?

the cruellest month 16

But, you know, let’s talk about those final two pages of Uncanny X-Men #394, because they’ve kinda been bugging me. To set the scene: his powers turned off, Warp Savant is badly hurt, Cyclops is pissed, Jean and Logan nearly die but show back up in the real world, and, as Wolverine is about to, presumably, kill (or maim severely) Warp Savant, the kid uses his powers on himself. This mostly gets a response of “Who the fuck cares?” and the issue quickly shifts the emphasis to Jean and Logan’s kiss inside Warp Savant’s head as everyone just goes home, job... done. There’s a jaded cynicism at play here that feeds into Joe Casey’s conception of the X-Men in the real world. This is a job that they take very seriously, but this is also some punk teenager who caused a messed and quit and who cares let’s go get some drinks boys.

Warp Savant’s assault on Cape Citadel is, seemingly, meaningful and important to him. This is the culmination of his life to this point. He’s finally an adult and has decided to make sure the world knows he exists and here come to X-Men to let him know that no one gives a shit. You fall in line or you get gone, they don’t actually care either way that much because they have much bigger concerns (image, press, kissing).

The inherent criticism of the X-Men here is that by growing to the scale that they have, they become insular and uncaring to anything outside of their walls. They only see Warp Savant’s actions as it relates to mutants, their purview, specifically how it plays from a public relations perspective. Cyclops begins the issue focused on how the media discusses mutants and what that means. Perhaps, the real battle is there...? But, there’s almost an element of autopilot in how they proceed. The reaction is automatic and swift, yet barely considered. The X-Men are a system, a machine that received stimuli and activates. Attack the evil mutant, engage interpersonal soap opera... X-Men comicbooks are about X-Men comicbooks... It's like there’s a flow chart at work. Is it a mutant (Y/N)? Is it a good mutant (Y/N)? Can the evil mutant be redeemed (Y/N)? Is the evil mutant threat over (Y/N)? Follow the chart, hit the end result: Y mutant, N good, N redeemed, Y threat over, result: return to base, mission accomplished, resume interpersonal soap opera.

Warp Savant is something is a non-entity to them beyond the actions he is immediately taking. He’s not actually a person. He’s a mutant, subclassified evil. The sinister undercurrent on display throughout the issue, in particular those finals pages, is unavoidable. It’s not a conscious decision by any of the characters to not care, it comes naturally to them under the guise of practicality and more important concerns. The idea that the ‘good guys’ don’t care about the death of someone that they are ostensibly charged with protecting, even from themselves, is a bit jarring.

As Casey was already in the midst of his Wildcats run, he had already begun to explore the idea of corporate superheroes and even a superhero corporation. That’s the mentality that he brings to the X-Men. It’s not the lovable mutant family good time comicbook that fans were accustomed to. It’s the workplace office drama. All monitoring press releases and managing situations and who doesn’t maintain a healthy work/life balance (hint: it’s Cyclops). Warp Savant is thrust into that world, making a definitive statement that he wants nothing to do with it. He attacks Cape Citadel partly to follow in Magneto’s footsteps, but also because it is the ultimate symbol of the western power structure. Post-childhood, there are generally four paths that may overlap: more school, get a job, join the military, or start a family. As Warp Savant attacks the idea of giving himself over the concept of patriarchal nationalism, he’s attacked by a group that’s come to inhabit the other three options all in one. School, family, career... you can have them all at Xavier’s!

More than that, the business of the X-Men is military in nature. What’s sent to ‘handle’ the Warp Savant situation isn’t so much a group of office drones as a special ops team. The shot of Archangel arriving on the scene looks like he could be part of some secret branch of the military that deals with superpowered threats, wielding a weapon that looks like military tech. By growing to encompass school family, work, military, the X-Men have also become an ideological cause bordering on a religion. A movement that demands complete fealty to the cause – a cause that eventually absorbs all criticism, all opposition. Am I saying that Casey prefigured Hickman? Forget Krakoa, join Poptopia.

starless inscrutable hour 15

The real world values utility, does it not. And are not the X-Men creatures of utility. They are superheroes, after all. They may get dressed up (figuratively and literally) and play pretend at politicians and statesmen and businessmen and actors and musicians and poets and husbands and wives and parents and it’s all a disguise for what they really are underneath it all. They have purpose and means in the real world these creatures of God’s nepotism realising at puberty that they were born on third base thinking that they were cut from the team. The cream of the crop, the blessed of the blessed, they wander through the world like so-much-a-Chamber not realising that they’re all Warp Savants with only the smartest most successful ones realising the truth. Be clever and beautiful for survival and success. “Hated and feared” is the old trope directed at the similarly powerful and famous only they glorify in the fringe benefits...

When I look at Chamber, I see Luke Perry for some reason. And Dylan McKay. Not the character, the type, the persona, the feeling of that poet in a leather jacket, dangerous to be around, but oh so alluring. And someone everyone knows, someone kinda sorta famous but not movie star famous. Because he’s the poet in the leather jacket, dangerous to be around, but oh so alluring. Attractive and repulsive, a good worker, maybe self-destructive... useful. The sort that we look up to and down upon, built up to be torn down with minimal effort. Cultural utility being of importance. In the grand scheme of things, hatched eight to ten days for best effect, then discard, sucking the eggie dry before the next day’s breakfast. Luke Perry playing Kevin Federline...

But, he gets a seat at the adult table because he’s useful. Not a ‘useless beauty’ as they say in the funny pages, he can actually do things. That’s how he makes his presence known, busting in, parting the waves, spreading the butter with his fiery chest and saving the damsel in distress and darting off into the night with only a dozen words ‘said’ so smoothly to hit your soul. He’s perfect and doesn’t know it, shy and confident and self-hating and brooding and able to make a girl feel safe and like she could get, ah, burned. He thinks his looks are a curse when they’re his raison d’être, his cosmic inheritance that puts him on the front page as the curious bad boy that everyone loves to hate and fear. His talents are natural and effortless, another in a long line... I wasn’t kidding when I said he’s another Scott Summer and Sam Guthrie, each moulded for their time, optimised for their target audience, the ultimate blank slates of relatability. Useful. Unfortunately, for him, he can’t blast out of his eyes or his ass, because those are taken... and ol’ Slim is already Batman so he’s part of the infinite parade of Robins who are too old to be sidekicks but not grown up to be solo heroes so they get slotted in wherever. That weird space between high school and getting a proper job. It’s fair to call Chamber’s time with the X-Men courtesy of Joe Casey more of an internship than a fulltime gig.

It’s not like he has two heads or one giant eye or a bunch of fur or extra long arms or lives in the sewers. He gives up moving to a Mansion to slum it in dirty hotels and limos with popstars, after all. There’s privilege in utility that is often obscured by heavy-handed self-pity. Say what you will but Captain America looks like he works at it and, for a rich kid, Tony Stark sure spends a lot of time in the workshop building things, and Hawkeye is just a dork who spent too much time getting really good at one thing like every athlete we worship. Despite the best insistences of comicbook writers and fans, mutants aren’t hated because they’re black or gay or any other metaphor, it’s because they got it without any effort. Where’s the work? Where’s the purpose? Where’s the dead parents and the decade of training? They hit the genetic jackpot and get to be beautiful superheroes without having to try. Every story about the curse of being a mutant, how freakish and ugly and awful it is always has the same moral: it’s fucking great. There but for the grace of God... is the message of Uncanny X-Men #395. Those poor souls living in the sewers, forced to be clever because they’re not beautiful? No, forced to scrap by because they’re useless. What are mutants for? If you look at the X-Men and their various offshoots and spinoffs and villains, it’s to do many impressive actions while looking good. There’s an inherently conservatism in the concept. Despite efforts of inclusion with the likes of Beak, that never sticks. No, the useless mutants get shunted to the sewer and made fodder for handsome men with jobs like Mister Clean, the genetic cleanser. He may look like an action star but he’s just a man doing a good, honest job, not-so-secretly wishing that it was the famous sort of mutants he was killing, the ones who can do the things he wishes he could. He’s a bit of a cut rate Pyro here, isn’t he? And, later, it’s revealed that he’s been made tougher and stronger through great expense as if Piotr didn’t just wake up one day a metal hunk who can bench-press a tractor. Hated and feared? Resented and envied, for a purpose.

starless inscrutable hour 14

Generation X #75, the final issue of that series, was released the same month as Uncanny X-Men #394. A brief overlap for the end of the Counter X titles that, while part of the previous regime, seemed like they would have fit in with New X-Men, the revamped X-Force (which would’ve ended the previous one, I guess, no matter what), and Uncanny X-Men. In that comic, the students of Banshee and Emma Frost’s little spin-off school (along with those teachers) go their separate ways and it’s clear that writer Brian Wood was only given the briefest of ideas of what was next for some of the characters as Chamber seems set to join the X-Men at the invitation of Charles Xavier himself. Yet, a month later, our boy was in London, slumming it in a shit hotel and saving popstars from their adoring fans. (Emma Frost is also apparently recruited by the Professor yet, next we see her, she’s teaching in Genosha...) It’s obvious that the outgoing folks were given about as much detail as we were when Frank Quitely’s Emma Frost was splashed all over promo pics and Uncanny X-Men featured young newbie Chamber. Not a tough egg to crack.

Within the world of the comic, it’s actually made clear in a slightly obtuse way. When Nightcrawler is speaking to Wolverine about the colony of underground mutants, Logan changes the topic to Jono, making it apparent that the trip to London for the trio of X-Men was not solely about the spike Cerebra detected. The key phrase: “HE NEVER SHOWED.” What’s made out to be a bit of coincidence that he’s there at the same time as them is subtly turned into something else. He was invited to be an X-Man and he never actually arrived. Headhunted to get a real job at the premier superhero mutant team and he buggered off to Europe. It’s all pretty obvious when you read the words. And a bit clichéd, admittedly. “Backpacking around Europe to find himself” is not an original idea. It’s almost beside the point.

The point is that the X-Men don’t let go. Call it loyalty, call it protectiveness, call it a fucking cult... they don’t let the boy go. When you think about it, Nightcrawler, Iceman, and Archangel are just three guys Chamber has maybe met twice? Exchanged how many words with? They’re these legendary alumni and all of them were sent to put the hard-press recruitment on him? It’s like there’s only one path into the ‘real world’ for Chamber and X marks the spot (sorry). Insulation is the word. Hermetically sealed, bagged and boarded, kept in mint condition this little world of theirs. Even when the underground mutants burns a little hole in it, it’s still like the Mansion is everywhere...

It’s an oddity of fiction. The workplace comedy where coworkers at like family. Those scenes in big crossovers where, as a kid, you wonder why it seems like the Human Torch barely knows Vision... you have this macroscopic view of this biodome world where you know everyone and every story revolves around these characters and you think that, because you know them all, they all know each other. Like the rules of the literal real world don’t apply. Chuck Klosterman’s essay on Saved by the Bell in Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs is my favourite example of breaking this phenomena down when he discusses what he calls the “Tori Paradox,” where, for half of the senior year of the characters, Kelly and Jessie were nowhere to be seen but the remaining characters hung out with a previously-unseen character, Tori, who quickly filled the role of both characters. Viewers tend to think of this as an odd moment for the show because two longstanding characters are swapped out for a brand new one and no one seems to notice anything strange. Beyond that, episodes featuring Tori and episodes featuring Jessie and Kelly were shown concurrently or even back to back, giving the impression that the characters swapped constantly without anything thinking anything of it. Completely unrealistic and maddening for fans. However, Klosterman writes,

the more I think back on my life, the more I’ve come to realize that the Tori Paradox might be the only element of Saved by the Bell that actually happened to me. Whenever I try to remember friends from high school, friends from college, or even just friends from five years ago, my memory always creates the illusion that we were together constantly, just like those kids on Saved by the Bell. However, this was almost never the case. Whenever I seriously piece together my past, I inevitably uncover long stretches where somebody who (retrospectively) seemed among my closest companions simply wasn’t around. I knew a girl in college who partied with me and my posse constantly, except for one semester in 1993—she had a waitressing job at Applebee’s during that stretch and could never make it to any parties. And even though we all loved her, I can’t recall anyone mentioning her absence until she came back. [...] Coming and going is more normal than it should be.

Chamber wasn’t given the option to just fade out, an event that happens with common frequency in superhero comicbooks. Team books, in particular, embrace the Tori Paradox with lineups changing every few issues, sometimes, the makeup of the team seemingly set at the random whims of that month’s writer. That’s what happened here, after all. Joe Casey, enamoured with Chamber as the perfect modern mutant, has to contend with all that means. He’s got to be part of the book, but also be true to himself and try to flee it. He’s given his own story about a popstar looking to use him to bolster her image until it’s too much and he bounces off the edges of the story right back into the X-Men. All the while, they’re running around in the background fighting a racist mutant killer and trying to save mutants that don’t want their help... you witness Jon Starsmore do his best to walk out into his own story, his own world, and the glass pens him in. He can’t pass for what he’s not... he was born into this... he has no choice... until the next writer has no use for him...

starless inscrutable hour 13

Uncanny X-Men #395 is about showing the intersection of the ‘real world’ and what it means to be a mutant within the context of being outside of the usual X-Men comfort zone. It’s both familiar and different, recalling past X-Men stories because X-Men comicbooks are about X-Men comicbooks. As the first proper issue of the Joe Casey/Ian Churchill run, it’s a little meandering and directionless. No high concept or clear statement of artistic purpose ala New X-Men #114 by Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely, it shuffles around London in the sort of vague manner of Casey’s Wildcats issues. Relationships are allusions, plots are barely there, and the world is a cold, uncaring place. While Wildcats seeks to answer “What happens to soldiers after the war?” Casey’s Uncanny X-Men work seems to try to answer “What happens after you leave school for the real world?” as it positions itself as something different from New X-Men, which focused on Xavier’s school and those still there.

Two answers/paths are given/explored. Chamber (aka Jon Starsmore) is a former member of the group Generation X and is in London, on his own. No longer a student after the dissolution of that group as the students go their separate ways, he’s alone in the world, staying at a crummy hotel, and finding himself in the company of the biggest popstar in the world, Sugar Kane. Casey is riffing on stories of Leila Chaney and Dazzler, while giving it a twist with the popstar not being the mutant. Instead, she’s intrigued by the tall, dark stranger in the leather jacket with the lower part of his face and chest spewing energy. Before ever taking the gig, Casey was asked by Wizard magazine once, for one of their specials, what his X-Men team would be (along with a bunch of other yet-to-write-the-mutants writers) and Chamber was his headliner. The cool visual, the inescapable nature of his powers, the fact that he’s somehow still treated as a bit of a broody teen heartthrob... you can make the argument that he’s the ultimate mutant star, the next step from Scott Summers and Sam Guthrie... The cover of this issue is a full-in shot of Chamber, energy chest/face taking up most of the image, his eyes just visible in the top left corner. While he’s our ‘star,’ the man is secondary to the mutant.

The unstated situation that Chamber finds himself in is that, upon leaving the ‘safety’ of Xavier’s school (or one of its offshoots in his case), what does a mutant actually do? What life specifically is Chamber suited for, particularly if he doesn’t have a strong desire to be an X-Man? There’s no hiding who he is. The moment he enters the comicbook, protecting Sugar Kane from the onslaught of fans, everyone knows he’s a mutant. He faces nothing but whispers and shouts and rude comments. His the walking embodiment of feared and hated, unable to pass as human no matter how he tries. As the Poptopia arc progresses, it becomes apparent that Sugar Kane is only using him to generate headlines and add a bit of controversial edge to her image. He’s the token mutant in her entourage until it becomes too controversial. Are those his only choices? Token mutant or X-Man?

The other option given is what the trio of Nightcrawler, Archangel, and Iceman encounter when they go seeking the source of a mutant spike that Cerebra (mutant-detecting technology at Xavier’s) pinged them to: a group of homeless mutants living underground ala the Morlocks in New York. These are the mutants that can’t pass for human who have ‘powers’ like acid-sweat, or gills, or one giant eye (the Cyclops). They live in squalor and fear, and immediately treat the trio of X-Men like outsiders even though they’re also mutants. These people do whatever it takes to survive, including killing intruders. This is what the world outside of the Mansion is for mutants... and Nightcrawler is a total loss of how to handle the situation. The X-Men are superheroes and students and teachers... but social workers or humanity relief workers? Particularly when this group of mutants doesn’t want their help. These former students taught to use their powers and help mutants encounter something that isn’t theory or easy ‘punch the bad guy in the face’ and they don’t have any idea of what to do. The conversation between Wolverine and Nightcrawler is enlightening as Wolverine is the stand-in for the wise old professor who’s got a ton of real world experience and is now passing on that knowledge to the next generation, and all he has is “MAYBE IT’S ENOUGH OFFERIN’ UP AN ALTERNATIVE. MAYBE HELP ‘EM GET OUT OF THE CITY...” before he moves on to the question of Chamber. Because it’s easier to avoid the real problems when you can focus on the simple stuff like a former student on his own in the world...

As an introduction to the idea of the X-Men operating out in the world, it’s all about putting up contrasts between what mutants and humans experience. The issue ends with a stark, brutal example where a human calling himself Mister Clean enters the underground area where the mutants are living and attacks them with a flame thrower. It’s panic and violence and death with the big reveal being that he looks like an actor straight out of an action movie. You could almost picture a movie doing gangbusters in this world where Arnold or Tom or Sly play this ‘Mister Clean’ killing all of those evil freaks as the hero.

It’s pretty obvious why a brand new era of X-Men comics centred on showing just how ineffective the X-Men actually are didn’t quite catch on. It worked for Wildcats, because that wasn’t the flagship title at DC (or even Wildstorm) by that point. It could be the quiet book about this group of characters finding their way through a life that was no longer familiar to them. Here, Casey is paired with Ian Churchill, an artist best suited to big bombast and action, yet is trying to write a comicbook meant for his Wildcats collaborator, Sean Phillips (who would draw future issues of this run). Sometimes, when the writing and art work at crosspurposes, that juxtaposition can produce something greater and more interesting; others, it sinks the project through no specific fault of anyone. Welcome to the real world... welcome to the show...

the cruellest month 12

A thought exercise (that I’m not sure I’m capable of)

Imagine: You are a brand new superhero comicbook reader. It is 2001. You saw X-Men in theatres the year before. You’re walking down the street. You pass by a comics shop, see a poster for the new X-Men comics by Joe Casey, Grant Morrison, Ian Churchill, and Frank Quitely. It’s maybe even a poster featuring Quitely’s take on the characters where they’re standing on the steps of a memorial for humanity, Xavier up front, the yellow of the Xs on their jackets brightening things up, Wolverine’s chest exposed even more than Emma Frost’s. Something about the image catches your eye, so you go in, and you ask for the X-Men comic from the poster. The guy behind the register says that that specific comic hasn’t started yet, but it’s launching aside another X-Men run, and the first issue of that comic just came out. He grabs you a copy of Uncanny X-Men #394 and the cover immediately seems somewhat familiar. You remember Wolverine and that redheaded woman must be... Jane? She was with the guy with the glasses. You pay your $2.25 USD ($3.50 in Canada!), take it home, and, later, give it a read.

Question: What do you, as this hypothetical reader, think about this comicbook?

Assumptions: You understand how to read comicbooks. You may have read some when you were a kid or you read newspaper comic strips. Basic comprehension of words, pictures, and the proper flow of the comic are not an issue. Your only experience with the X-Men, though, was the movie.

Answer 1: You enjoy it. The villain is a bit strange, but in a fun, energetic way. You like that the issue mostly focused on Cyclops, Wolverine, and Jean (her name is Jean, not Jane! you mentally chastise yourself) because you know those characters. The situation reminded you of the movie. The art made the characters look familiar and the way that things melted by the powers of Warp Savant was cool-looking. The blue guy with wings was kinda cool, too. If you remember, you may pick up another one.

Likelihood: Eh, maybe?

Answer 2: You don’t enjoy it. The villain is just an 18-year old punk trying to do what exactly? You like that the issue mostly focused on Cyclops, Wolverine, and Jean (her name is Jean, not Jane! you mentally chastise yourself) because you know those characters. The situation reminded you of the movie. The art, while fine, didn’t look like the poster in the window. Where was Professor X and Magneto? The bad guy mentioned Magneto, but wasn’t Magneto in this comicbook? Isn’t he the X-Men’s bad guy? And was the blue guy with wings the same blue guy in the poster? That one looked more like an animal. Can this guy turn himself into animals? Is that why he has wings? You probably won’t pick up another one.

Likelihood: More likely.

Solution: I’m finding it hard to put myself in this position. I’ve literally been reading comicbooks since before I could read. They were always there. But, setting aside comicbooks, I’m not sure I find it possible, myself, to enter into anything this fresh. Everything has some set expectation or point of reference. I can’t picture picking up something like a comicbook and treating it in this way, yet that’s precisely how people talk about them. And I know it happens because I’ve seen the anecdotes from retailers. People are just this uninformed walking into comicbook shops sometimes, doing so on a whim because they saw a poster and remembered a movie, and I don’t understand it. I don’t quite buy it. I’ve never seen the point of chasing that sort of person. It’s like hearing that, according to research, when people really liked a television show, they apparently only actually tuned in for one in three episodes. I don’t understand that mentality. And I’m not sure Joe Casey does either. Sure, he put on his ‘marketing hat’ to have Logan and Jean make out on the cover (and inside), but this doesn’t read like a comicbook aimed at new readers. It feels like that’s just a disguise or an excuse or a vague hope that he never believed possible. If this comicbook ever feels ‘phoned in’ or lacking, it’s in the conviction that it would ever convert some random person into being a steady reader of Uncanny X-Men. I don’t think Marvel ever did either. Do you know how I know? Flip through the issue and notice the big ads for New X-Men that aren’t there. Or the editorial pages hyping up this new era that also aren’t there. Nothing about this suggests that there’s a world of X-Men outside of this issue beyond the implication of the issue number and the tiny caption at the bottom of the last panel on the final page that says “next: poptopia” like that’s supposed to mean anything. The only people who would pick this up and understand what’s going on in the context outside of the actual issue are existing readers. That is the target audience, always. Always. The closest to a window into other comics outside of this one is the Bullpen Bulletins page that has a list of comics out the following week and four pages of unlettered art for X-Treme X-Men #1 (out the following week). No context, no indication of what relationship those X-Men have to these ones. This was never new-reader-friendly and it was never meant to be.

Conclusion: I was not capable.

the cruellest month 11

Unreal City

Under the brown fog of a winter noon

An area of Uncanny X-Men #394 that I’ve been pondering well before I ever conceived of this examination of the issue is Warp Savant’s powers and his methodology in attacking the Cape Citadel military base. His powers have always been like an itch that I can’t scratch, mostly in how it relates to Magneto, The X-Men #1, and the entire concept of reliving that moment in time. The ability to teleport/absorb matter inside his head isn’t akin to magnetism at all and it’s always kind of bugged me. Okay, I know, I know, the answer is that Joe Casey thought the idea was cool and there was no deeper meaning. But that’s not how we play ball here, my friend. Yesterday, I compared his powers to the absorption of random comicbook knowledge by hardcore fans and his attack as a declaration of adulthood. In the literal sense of what he says and does, though, I’m curious what we can find...

The issue opens with the caption “THEY SAY IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY...” and Warp Savant at his computer, smoking. When he comes across a Daily Bugle article about Magnet’s attack on Cape Citadel, he leans forward, eyes wide, big grin, and says, “SWEET.” The next night, he’s at a club and tells some girls that “COME TOMORROW... / ...I’M GONNA BE CELEBRATING. / BIG TIME.” In the club, he seems bored. The three scantily-clad girls barely cause him to react. He absorbs a bottle of beer using his powers. What effect does that have on him? He’s bored with his life. He’s been sitting on these powers and while his scene thinks he’s cool, he’s stagnating.

The attack on Cape Citadel reads more like a Looney Tunes cartoon than anything. He comes in, begins absorbing everything, yelling stuff like “OUT COME THE FREAKS! AND WAR’S NEXT ON THE AGENDA! / I’M A MUTANT AND I’M EVIL!” His response to a clichéd general (spouting phrases like “What’s your major malfunction?”) is to salute him, mock him, and give him a kiss on the forehead before using his powers on him. That Warp Savant seems more like Bugs Bunny than Magneto is an odd choice for Casey. It almost recalls and mocks Magneto haughty self-importance in The X-Men #1, opting to treat the entire exercise as a farce. As he continues, he muses about his motives:

THE DIRT FARMERS AND THE POLITICIANS... THEIR FEAR IS OUR GREATEST WEAPON!

IF BUCKET-HEAD WON’T SHOW HIS FACE TO TEAR IT ALL DOWN, I’LL TAKE THE HEAT, BAY-BEE!

I’LL GIVE ‘EM AN INCIDENT THAT’LL DIVIDE OPINION!

I’LL SHINE THE WORLD--!

At this point, he’s interrupted by Wolverine’s appearance from the sky. His little rant suggests he’s actually got a motive and a goal. To shock humanity? To scare them? To burn the world down? It’s hard to parse where he’s going exactly, except that, here, he’s completely in line with Magneto who never revealed his actual plan when he attacked Cape Citadel. It was the first phase of a plan to show off his power to make humanity bow before him and all mutants somehow. He never does much prior to the X-Men defeating him, similar to Warp Savant here.

One idea is that Warp Savant, by taking people inside his head, literally shows them his perspective. He’s the living embodiment of empathy in action, except the inside of his head is a war zone called City Hell (a play on Citadel) or childish nightmares. It’s all so much like a child smashing toys together. It’s interesting that only Jean and Logan seem to have true agency inside Warp Savant’s head. Maybe because they’re mutants? They understand and can navigate his world. It’s not entirely clear and Warp Savant’s all over the place behaviour doesn’t help.

Part of the problem, according to Casey, lies in his writing: “I think the imagery I was conjuring up in my mind when it came to the ‘virtual space’ where victims of Warps powers would find themselves was 1) bizarrely misguided creatively and 2) asking Ian Church to draw something that didn’t quite come naturally to him.” I think it’s refreshingly honest to take the heat completely, including absolving Churchill for not executing those parts of the issue as well as, say, Ashley Wood may have; what I’m intrigued by is the “bizarrely misguided creatively” part. I think I know what he’s getting at, yet the idea of a psychic plane where characters are transported isn’t new to an X-Men comic. What is new is how ambiguous the whole thing is with Warp Savant not actually in control of the environment in his head. It’s a shifting reflection of his inner world but outside of his direct influence.

Heading down this line of thinking, his act of seeming suicide could be an effort to ‘find himself’ now that he’s out in the world. Or is it the final act in his attempt to shock and divide? What’s truly missing and actually undercuts the issue is that Warp Savant is treated like almost nothing once he’s gone. The focus shifts to the Jean/Logan melodrama and it’s like Warp Savant was never there. Gone forever so far, which is rare in superhero comicbooks.

Thorsday Thoughts – The Ultimates #11

Thor comics aren’t usually overtly political. Despite a central location being a kingdom, even when war is made, it’s usually plot-driven and divorced from broad political ideas. If anything, the focus is usually personal and through a bit of a superhero lens. If Asgard goes to war with Surtur, it’s because Surtur is an evil fire demon bent on destruction and nothing more. If the Frost Giants complain about Asgard’s foot on their necks, it’s only because they would ravage and devour Asgard if given the chance. These are mythological beings that fit into archetypes of good and evil, neat little boxes. Broadly speaking, Thor is a heroic figure, generally on the side of good where the concept of politics is boiled down to simplicities and privilege. He’s a defender, not a conqueror or coloniser, despite his followers being those things. Politics are somewhat slow and temporary for someone like Thor who views the rise and fall of empires the way we view the rise and fall of the sun. Placing Thor in an overly political context seems strange at first glance.

Then again, this isn’t a Thor comic. It’s The Ultimates.

Part of the Jonathan Hickman-led relaunch of the Ultimate Universe, the basic idea is that the Maker (Ultimate Reed Richards) remade universe 6160 in a manner to his liking, mostly by using time travel to suppress the Age of Marvels. Now, after he was trapped in the City for two years, Tony Stark and Doom (that world’s Reed Richards) have gathered a group of superpowered insurgents to prepare for the day when the City opens again, to take down the Maker. During this preparation, they’ve been trying to right the wrongs of the Maker, one of which was freeing Thor from the dungeons of Asgard where the king, Loki, had put him, marking him a traitor. In The Ultimates #11, Thor and Sif (his former jailer) return to Asgard to end Loki’s reign, the issue told via splash pages and a long poem.

Deniz Camp has written The Ultimates less as a superhero team and more as an activist cell. It’s been rare for the full group to appear in an issue, shifting its central focus each month to build a tapestry of the group’s activities and the world around them. He’s also done his best to treat each issue as its own unity of storytelling, attempting different formalist experiments, like the fourth issue telling four different narratives across every page with a panel on each page dedicated to each. As an issue of The Ultimates, this fits structurally and narratively with its focus on only Thor and Sif (with appearances by Stark and Doom at the very end) and told in a unique, specific manner. Thematically, its exploration of a fascist state, the means of oppression, and the ways in which the oppressed learn to live with it, afraid to fight back for fear that things will get worse, is very much in line with rest of the series, which has been a comic about resistance against tyrannical rule, both overt and covert.

It also features the book’s regular artist, Juan Frigeri, and, I imagine, he was pretty pumped to have an issue of splash pages where he can channel everything into single issues that allow his detailed line work to shine. It’s a different sort of storytelling, one that actually accomplishes that rare feat that everyone talks about as the standard for quality visual storytelling: the ability to follow the story without the words. Told through a series of single images, each representing a chunk of time or a moment, Frigeri manages to nail it page after page. Together with Camp’s poem, the effect is more like a children’s book than a regular comic. Fitting for the mythological characters featured. Despite its connection to the larger world, this issue is almost a fable of fascism and resistance, of disruption and endurance. Characters are more impressions and single images than flesh out, and the story is dead simple and straight forward: Thor and Sif arrive, obtain the means to move about the Realms in secret, we’re told of the status quo, they try to enlist help and meet with scared apathy, they begin to strike, the ruling class hits back against the citizenry, and things head towards open conflict. The message is dressed up with poetic language, yet is very directly put:

You don’t make concessions

To autocrats and their oppressions

You don’t make deals

With tyrants

You make war!

The closest Thor comic that comes to mind is the Robert Rodi/Simone Bianchi Thor: For Asgard six-issue series. Also not taking place in the regular Marvel Universe, For Asgard tells of a time where Thor is king of Asgard and grows slowly more tyrannical with time, making choices that seem good for Asgard but incorrect morally. The big reveal at the end of the first issue is that he can no longer lift Mjolnir. As the story progresses, dissent is sown by unknown provocateurs and acts of sabotage are committed against Asgard, all while the younger generation pushes back against tradition. It seems like this is the slow death of a once-great kingdom until Thor finds a way to reclaim his former worthiness. By the end of the final issue, it’s clear that the story was meant to continue (but never did) and is only the first step in how to heal a nation that has begun to erode and die. (The issue also recalls the Loki mini-series also written by Rodi, but drawn Esad Ribić where Loki finally conquers Asgard and finds the throne not as comfortable as he always dreamed, though that is much more of a character-driven story with any politics merely there to serve Loki’s story.)

During Matt Fraction’s run on Thor, he changed the ruling structure of Asgard, first with the triumvirate All-Mothers taking over for Odin and, eventually, the Congress of Worlds, a democratic government made up of representatives of the various Realms. Despite these changes, there was little substantive longterm impact on Asgard. As is the usual way with superhero comicbooks, time passed and things reverted back to tradition. Thor comicbooks aren’t usually political.

The Asgard presented in The Ultimates #11 is one shaped to suit its thematic purposes. Camp twists known elements in the ways needed to tell his story. The largest change is to the Vanir, normally depicted as a race more or less the same as the Aesir. Here, they become something akin to the Fae and fill the role of those that are comfortable enough under the oppressive rule, afraid to lose what little they have by fighting for more. Of course, when Loki and the Frost Giants look to put the screws to the populace following Thor and Sif’s first attack, the Vanir are among the first group to have their rights limited. It’s an interesting play on the traditional tensions between the Aesir and Vanir in the comics where war between the two was settled via Frigga marrying Odin, and the Aesir ruled over the Vanir in a benevolent-yet-chaffing manner. The echoing of that arrangement implicitly calls into question the justness of Odin’s reign. While more benevolent and fair than Loki, the line between monarch and tyrant is a thin one.

That there’s no resolution in this issue is the boldest choice. A morality play such as this would seemingly be best served with a clear ending: the downfall of the tyrant king. Instead, the big payoff is the message from above about resisting, not appeasing, tyrants. It’s not the actual final word of the Thor portion of the issue. While the war against Loki is implied at the end, so too is one Thor’s methods: a deal with Surtur where he enlists the fire demon to “Burn it all down.” Again, Camp uses previous stories and conventions to imply action. There have been countless comics where Surtur attempts to bring about Asgard’s destruction and Ragnarok, and it’s even shown up in a movie (you may have seen it). While a lot of the story doesn’t actually rely on regular Thor continuity, that moment is surprising in how it references such a well-known Thor trope. It almost feels out of place in an issue that seeks to demonstrate just how different this Asgard is from the one we know in service of its message. And that’s where I land with this issue, taken from the viewpoint of a Thor-focused reader: it uses the characters and setting in a manner that fits the message it wishes to convey.

In many ways, this could have been a story about Hercules and Olympus, or Namor and Atlantis, or Black Panther and Wakanda. Pick a ‘country’ in the Marvel Universe and a similar issue could be told. The poem approach seems to suit Asgard conceptually and the idea of finally seeing through an Asgard under Loki’s rule is appealing. Thor as an insurgent guerrilla fighter has an odd charm as well. These characters work well as simple metaphors for this message of resistance and no appeasement, partly because of the contrast with the Asgard that we know. And it’s incredibly relevant for the current times, another rarity of Thor comics.

the cruellest month 10

Unreal City,

Under the brown fog of a winter dawn

Now that we’re into Uncanny X-Men #394 proper and have settled on the reasoning for each of our heroes, what of our villain? Or, to be more accurate, antagonist? Warp Savant was created by Joe Casey and Ian Churchill for this issue only and has not been used since (that I’m aware). I’d pin the lack of followup on the character’s seeming death were it not for the fact that the death was far from certain and that, even if it were, since when did that ever stop anyone in the superhero comicbook game? Warp Savant’s inspiration, Magneto, has died how many times only to return after each eventually? Is it the one-note nature of the character? Again, that’s never stopped anyone. The truly unbeloved nature of this issue? Or something more central to his core?

What do we know about Warp Savant coming out of this issue? He turns 18, he’s male-presenting, he’s heavily tattooed, he wears sunglasses on his head (but never over his eyes), he likes leather pants and mesh shirts, he goes to clubs, he has the ability to teleport objects inside his own head (and seemingly prefers to imbibe alcohol that way), and he’s a Magneto fanboy. No real name, no tortured origin, no real motivation other than mindlessly striking out at the world... The inciting event for action seems to be becoming an adult. Given that mutant powers present at puberty generally, that means Warp Savant has lived with his powers for around four or so years, maybe more, maybe less, and it’s only when he’s reached adulthood that he looks to use them beyond limited means (like ‘absorbing’ beer bottles).

As much as Warp Savant patterns himself after Magneto (more on that later), he’s paired with Cyclops here, acting as the opposite to him. Cyclops’s comments about there being a world beyond the mansion walls are key; just as Cyclops is looking past the world of the school, so too is Warp Savant, leaving behind the safety of childhood and going out into the larger world, looking to make a difference in the only way that makes sense to him. Both men are looking to ‘change the world’ in their own ways (Cyclops even makes reference to this idea at the end of the issue). While Cyclops is all repression and control, Warp Savant is the opposite. He’s mindless energy, letting loose his id, and not actually acting with a plan. When he storms Cape Citadel, it’s with a vague idea of ‘shaking things up’ and no real goal. Even when he’s defeated by the X-Men, he doesn’t seem that upset. He almost seems amused, ready to go with the flow, and embrace the next step by using his powers on himself.

Visually, the two characters are related but different. Both wearing leather jackets and sunglasses (almost identical save the colour), with Warp Savant never actually putting his over his eyes, unlike Cyclops who had to keep his over his eyes or else unleash his mutant powers. Given the twinkle in Warp Savant’s eyes when he uses his powers, the eyes seem important there – maybe he can only affect what he sees. It’s these little connections...

That Warp Savant waits until he’s 18 isn’t about him leaving school entirely, either. It also puts him beyond the reach of school – beyond the reach of the X-Men. He’s no longer young enough to immediately fall under the sway of Xavier’s teachings. Not in a literal sense, because plenty of X-Men joined the team as adults (an all-new, all-different concept, one might say). Warp Savant doesn’t exist in the realm of the literal, though. He’s a walking, talking, drinking, fucking metaphor for an alternative to Xavier’s dream. Every part of the character is designed to not fit into Xavier’s school and his teachings, including his patterning his first step into the wider world on the actions of Magneto. In The X-Men #1, Magneto’s attack on Cape Citadel is just as ill-conceived and pointless. An act of terror that declared that he would answer to no one – and that’s what Warp Savant is doing. It’s a declaration of his adulthood and unwillingness to be cowed by anyone. There is no message beyond that. “I’m a mutant and an adult and I won’t be told what to do!” He strikes against one of the most potent symbols of authority in the military and has no agenda past the lashing out. Even the declaration that he’s an evil mutant is merely in response to society around him that would classify him as such, trying to provoke him to change and conform, so, instead, he owns the label.

The final thing that Warp Savant stands in for is us, the readers. Or, rather, to keep harping on it: X-Men comicbook readers (because X-Men comicbooks are about X-Men comicbooks). The issue begins with him researching continuity online and he spends the issue collecting facts inside his head. In the aftermath of the X-Men movie, there was an element of comicbook fandom that pushed back against the mainstream success, wanting to assert that that wasn’t the real X-Men and the movie fans weren’t real fans. Warp Savant is a moody geek lashing out at the world that treats him like an outcasts because he knows the continuity. Jumping from there, it's not hard to see him as a stand-in for Joe Casey (except Joe is rarely seen without sunglasses covering his eyes), a notorious continuity hound and provocateur. It’s a stretch, honestly, but I do see the character as giving some insight into the ensuing Uncanny X-Men run that, in contrast to New X-Men’s school-based location, would be about going out into the wider world and encountering ideas that challenge Xavier’s view of human/mutant relations. Warp Savant is merely the first...

the cruellest month 09

Why does Joe Casey decide on these four X-Men in Uncanny X-Men #394? Cyclops, Jean Grey, and Wolverine are actually pretty obvious. Aside from Professor X and Storm, they’re probably the most memorable X-Men from the movie. They also have the whole love triangle “interpersonal soap opera” plot that drives the issue and will continue, after a fashion, in Grant Morrison’s New X-Men. Moreover, as I’ve said before, Cyclops and Jean are both part of the original X-Men that fought Magneto at Cape Citadel in The X-Men #1, and Wolverine is, bar none, the most popular X-Man of all time. Those three are both essential to the story told here with no other characters able to take their place, while being incredibly well known, popular, and fit the allusion to the first X-Men comic.

That leaves Warren Worthington III aka Archangel.

There are two influencing factors in this choice: original X-Men and a member of Casey’s Uncanny X-Men cast moving forward. Setting aside Professor X, as part of this story was the X-Men being the adults and the evil mutant being the child, and they don’t look particularly adult with their teacher still bossing them around, that leaves Archangel, Beast, and Iceman. Beast is the only one of those three not part of Casey’s cast and, in fact, was a central member of the New X-Men cast, so he was out. With Iceman and Archangel to choose from, it’s tempting to call it a coin flip since Warren doesn’t actually do a lot in this issue. He shows up, fires the weapon that disrupts Warp Savant’s powers, makes a quip about living fast and dying young, and that’s it (oh, and his first panel is a great visual callback to his pose on the cover of The X-Men #1). I guess that’s it. With two natural choices, Casey just picked at random... Except...

Of the two characters, Archangel looks less human. In an issue where five mutants appear, four of them could pass for human. Sure, Logan and Warp Savant have fairly specific looks to them, and that’s all. They look human. Particularly in this new era where the X-Men costumes are leather outfits that resemble a flashy biker gang or maybe a breakdancing troupe, none of these characters pop off the page as superhuman in any way at first glance. Even Iceman only looks different from any other person when using his powers. Otherwise, he’s just as bland looking as everyone else. Warren, at least, has blue skin and wings. Of the original X-Men who are also members of the title moving forward, he’s the ‘freak’ of the bunch. He adds that otherworldly, altered element of mutants to the issue. If that was the only reason, Casey would have been better off choosing Nightcrawler, honestly, from the Uncanny cast. While not an original X-Man, Kurt Wagner is more the face of ‘freak’ X-Men and would have given Ian Churchill some fun situations with him teleporting around, firing the blaster to disrupt Warp Savant.

Warren’s presence actually relates to the “interpersonal soap opera” drama at the heart of this issue. As I keep saying, this issue is actually aimed squarely at X-Men fans despite the appearance of appealing to new readers. The superficial marketing is new-reader friendly, the true meaning is only for the hardcore. The love triangle in this issue is Scott/Jean/Logan, but, if you go back to those origin Stan Lee/Jack Kirby issues, it was Scott/Jean/Warren. Moreover, many of those initial issues had Jean showing pretty obvious affection for Scott, while he seemingly gave her the cold shoulder, partially out of obliviousness, partially nervousness, and partially because he didn’t think someone like Jean would be interested in him. Despite seeing that Jean preferred Scott, Warren, more flashy and confident than Scott, took advantage of the situation often to try and win Jean over. Eventually, when it became apparent that there was no getting between them, Warren moved on and, in a new story in Classic X-Men #1, when he sees Logan’s interest in Jean, steps in to tell him to back off. Here, he’s a reminder of both that original love triangle and that there’s no getting between Scott and Jean, because Jean cares about Scott too deeply. Casey doesn’t give any dialogue to even hint at this past, it’s all subtext for those that know. And, of course, knowing what eventually happens in New X-Men, it also confirms that Logan would not be able to get between Scott and Jean, because Jean could not be tempted away from Scott. Scott, on the other hand...

Despite these reasons, was this the best team that Casey could select for this issue? I still think that Nightcrawler might have been a better option than Archangel. It’s unusual to only see a roster of four X-Men, especially as the cast had ballooned so much over the years. With the focus on Scott/Jean/Logan, and giving enough space to Warp Savant, there isn’t much room for any other characters, so additional X-Men would have filled a similar role to Archangel: add to the fight against Warp Savant, have four or five lines, and not actually contribute much. The added subtext of Warren’s presence does a lot of the argument for his inclusion, checking off numerous boxes: original X-Man, less human looking, member of Casey’s Uncanny cast, love triangle... I guess he was the character filled with the most meaning simply by being there...

the cruellest month 08

In Uncanny X-Men 394, Joe Casey’s dive into “interpersonal soap opera,” as he’d later describe it, uses what would be a key point of Grant Morrison’s New X-Men, Scott and Jean’s strained relationship in the wake of his experience as the vessel for Apocalypse. In particular, highlighting Scott’s cold and distant behaviour. On the surface, he doesn’t actually seem that different given Scott’s usually reserved nature. He’s a no-nonsense kind of guy who’s settled into the leadership role of the X-Men largely because of that singular devotion to the role. Again, the depiction of Scott here isn’t aimed at new readers. It’s not even aimed at casual readers because at no point does Casey allude to the Apocalypse possession or its impact upon Scott. At best, he points towards some underlying tension between Scott and Jean, having Wolverine take advantage of it.

Except, of course, the Apocalypse possession doesn’t actually matter. While it’s an underlying cause of Scott’s behaviour here that explains why he may be acting a bit differently from his normal comicbook personality, the love triangle subplot had, largely, been dormant in the comics for quite a while. It received a hint around the marriage of Scott and Jean and that’s about it. No, what brought it to the forefront, and is where both this cover and content of this issue was aimed at new readers, is X-Men, the movie that had come out the previous year. The Scott/Jean/Logan love triangle was an element of that movie and, if you’re going to play up the soap opera for new or casual readers, taking the one soap opera element from the wildly popular movie featuring the characters was the way to go. Along with the leather outfit costume designs, this was the big influence of the movie upon the Casey/Grant Morrison era with Morrison being the one that leaned heavier into the influence of the movie. After this issue, you wouldn’t know that Casey had ever seen it from the direction he took Uncanny X-Men. For one issue only, Casey dove into the movie influence and did the work to actually set up Morrison’s New X-Men run more than his own Uncanny X-Men run.

Depicting Scott as cold, obsessed-with-the-job guy actually falls mostly on Ian Churchill’s shoulders. Casey’s dialogue without Churchill’s body language wouldn’t land quite the same way. Throughout the opening scene where Scott watches the news broadcast and, then, learns of Warp Savant’s attack on Cape Citadel, Churchill plays up two things: a sour, almost scowling facial expression and the closed off arms crossed posture. At no point does Scott’s expression or body language change. The closest we see him move is turning his hand with his arms still crossed, standing up straight, and the same scowl on his face. He looks like he hates the world around him and doesn’t want it to let any of it in. Yet, he’s watching the news broadcast and setting up the mission to Florida, because the only thing he seems to care about is his role as leader of the X-Men. In fact, the only way he engages with the outside world is through that role as he mentions to Jean that they need to remember the world outside the mansion. If he isn’t actually closed off from the world and is actually trying to put the X-Men into it, what his look and posture are actually guarding him from is Jean.

When Jean and Logan leave to confront Warp Savant, she kisses Scott’s cheek, saying “LOVE YOU, SCOTT.” Stoically, he looks ahead, arms still crossed and responds, “LOVE YOU, WIFE.” It’s a cold thing to say, depersonalising her to the specific role in their relationship, as if his loyalty is to the arrangement rather than to her. The following panel is Wolverine looking on, clearly taking in the strained marriage. Wolverine’s role in this drama is one that I’ve always found odd to give a seemingly heroic character: the other man. Given what we know about Scott’s recent history, he’s actively taking advantage of the trauma Scott went through to hit on his wife... it’s really scummy. (Wolverine, though, shortly before Scott was possessed by Apocalypse was similarly under the spell of the ancient mutant, acting as the newest incarnation of the Horseman Death, so, you could argue, that puts them on similar ground.) On the plane to Florida, there’s a brief interaction between Logan and Jean:

Logan: PROBLEMS BETWEEN YOU AND CYKE?

Jean: ...

Jean: NO. WHY DO YOU ASK?

Logan: BACK THERE... YOU TWO DIDN’T SEEM TO COZY—

Jean: JUST MIND YOUR BUSINESS, LOGAN.

It’s a quick attempt to put himself into the situation met with an equally quick rebuff, which is what you’d expect in this situation. After all, Casey isn’t looking to actually explore the love triangle idea in depth, merely reintroduce it before Morrison does with it what they wish. It’s about laying the groundwork and, after the two are absorbed into Warp Savant’s psyche and battle their way through, they find themselves seemingly about to die. Just as reality dies around them, Logan takes advantage of the opportunity to passionately kiss Jean and they seemingly blink out of existence that way. Instead, they’re returned to reality as a result of Warp Savant’s seeming suicide and Jean is left shaken, seemingly unable to recall the experience. When Logan says “I REMEMBER, JEANNIE. EVERY BIT OF IT. / JUST ANOTHER DAY ON THE JOB, EH...?” her uncertain look back at him and response of “... / RIGHT.” leaves it unclear how much she does remember of the experience. Their kiss is left as a brief moment at the edge of seeming oblivion that, possibly, only one of them remembers – and a moment that Morrison and artist Phil Jimenez would later repeat in another near-death scene in New X-Men aboard Asteroid M.

While Jean and Logan were in Warp Savant’s mind, Scott was trying to subdue the young mutant alongside Archangel and, at the moment where the final blast from the weapon that temporarily disabled his powers, Scott stands over him, gives a little speech that ends with him asking “...WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY TEAMMATES? / MORE IMPORTANTLY-- / --WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY WIFE?!” It’s actually the same question asked twice as the only X-Men Warp Savant used his powers on were Jean and Logan. The extra emphasis on Scott’s wife reminds us that he loves and cares about her beyond his role as team leader of the X-Men. The words “more importantly” places her as his wife above her as his teammate. Yet, it also echoes his “LIFE YOU, WIFE” line from earlier in the issue. Is it love or something more possessive? More about the formality of their relationship? Does he love Jean or is he committed to their marriage as a concept despite his struggling with what he feels? When she and Logan return to the real world, his concern for her seems genuine, bordering on panic when she’s weakened/injured coming back. There’s enough ambiguity presented to play into the idea that something is amiss.

The issue leaves it as all suggestive and, as I said, for Morrison to pick up again. Jean doesn’t appear again in Uncanny X-Men as long as Casey writes it, I believe. His instincts to introduce his and Morrison’s time on the books by playing off the movie and setting up Morrison’s title shows a shrewd commercial instinct that wouldn’t really show up again during his time on the title.