The following article is an analysis of selections from The Liberal Imagination by Lionel Trilling, a collection of critical essays ranging from literature to psychology. The numbers indicate a separation between the different essays being analyzed.
1. “The Function of the Little Magazine” is an essay explaining how little magazines are the things in modern day culture which preserve our literature. This is because these magazines write for a small audience. This allows these magazines not to have to worry about offending people as much because their audience is more targeted. “…There exists a great gulf between our educated class and the best of our literature.” The reason Trilling makes this statement is because he believes the literature of his time has no energy or imagination. This leads to bad political ideals, and these ideals should be blamed on the education system.
The literature of today has picked up a bit more energy and imagination than before. One of the main reasons Trilling says literature is declining is because it has no political drive; it no longer inspires people. There have been people since Trilling’s time who have inspired people with literature. Glen Beck managed to basically start a whole new political party (The Tea Party) based off his writings. It is true there aren’t as many great authors to move people as there used to be, but society today does have more access to great literature than people of Trilling’s time. Society today has more conflict within modern day literature, which is a good thing: it inspires people to think more.
2. In the “Huckleberry Finn” essay, Trilling discusses how a boy views truth. “No one, as he (Mark Twain) well knew, sets a higher value on truth than a boy.” Trilling then goes on to explain truth to a young boy is the most important thing. This is because truth is always affiliated with fairness. A young boy will therefore not trust adults; a young boy believes adults lie all the time. Because they believe this, it makes it okay to lie to adults because they are liars.
This is a true statement; this is why Mark Twain chose to write Huckleberry Finn through the perspective of a young boy. It is how Mark Twain is able to make political statements. A boy will not hold back the truth because he wishes to express all of it. The truth is so important all of the truth must be expressed in the novel from the view of a boy. This means nothing should be held back, because truth must be fully understood.
3. In “The Sense of the Past,” Trilling states Shakespeare “is contemporaneous only if we know how much a man of his own age he was….” This statement is saying Shakespeare must be taken in context. No literary work can be understood out of context. One must understand times in which a literary work was written in order to understand its importance.
Context truly does shape a literary work. What might be considered daring or cutting edge today might be mediocre and mundane tomorrow. In order to understand how great something is one must understand the circumstances and times in which it was written. Any literary work, even the Bible for example, taken out of context can be misused and misinterpreted. For full understanding of a work, context is extremely important.
4. In “F. Scott Fitzgerald,” Trilling states Fitzgerald uses the ideal voice of the novelist in The Great Gatsby. Trilling believes the reason Fitzgerald’s use of language is so perfect is because of the emotion you feel with the characters. The language he uses adds a deepness and tone to each character. Fitzgerald has just the right amount of fact telling with emotional connection.
This truly is the ideal novelist voice. It is what grabs one in and makes one connected with the characters. If one does not connect with the characters, then the novel has no point, but if there is only the emotion of the characters then plot becomes rather dull. There must be a perfect mix; Fitzgerald masters this mix. It is often the subtlety of the language he uses that creates that mix. He uses soft words enough to make one connected but not overbearing with long dramatic description.
5. In “The Immortality Ode,” Trilling states “Criticism … must be concerned with the poem itself.” What he is saying is a poem should not be judged on details it may have left out. A poem should be judged only for the content in the poem, not the factuality behind it. With the first statement he rejects the view of criticizing poems based on the belief they in some way must be rooted in fact.
When Trilling then analyzes the poem, he contradicts himself and uses that same view. He brings in the idea a poem creates its own reality, therefore a poem cannot just be judged upon words but it must also be judged upon the world it creates. A poem may be based in reality, but it doesn’t need to be. A poem creates its own world with its own meaning. This world a poem creates can be criticized though, and should be for it is a part of the poem.
6. “Manners, Morals, and the Novel” is another Trilling essay that deals with context. Just as with “The Sense of the Past,”when one analyzes a literary work one must know the culture from which it came. Culture is extremely important in how one must interpret the work. A novel follows characters from a culture; in order to understand how characters interact with each, one must understand the culture. “The novel is a perpetual quest for reality, the field of its research being always the social world, the material of its analysis being always manners as the indication of a man’s soul.” Every literary work creates its own reality.
In the novel that reality is drawn from real culture. This is why a novel is a “perpetual quest for reality,” because a novel seeks to show some reality through the culture it represents. Novelists, even when writing science-fiction, will always bring aspects of their reality or their idea of reality in their novels. Novels must always convey the culture the novel takes place in, which is why it is a quest. The novelist must find the reality in which he wishes to set his novel and the reality he wishes to convey.
Twenty years now … where’d they go? Twenty years … I don’t know. I sit and I wonder sometimes where they’ve gone. Regardless, twenty years ago, the House of Ideas gave us one of the last truly great crossovers in the Avengers universe: Operation: Galactic Storm. A 19-part maxi-series (not counting the prologue and epilogue issues), Operation: Galactic Storm is an interstellar masterpiece of storytelling precision, daring yet consistent characterization, and climax and dénouement rarely surpassed in what the denizens of Highbrow Street call “literature.” Best of all, perhaps: it’s a great story. I don’t know how 20 years have passed since I first delighted and dismayed through its greatness, but I could tell even then it was truly something rare and wonderful. Even though it is longer than X-Cutioner’s Song, the X-Men crossover we reflected upon last season, it is better paced, has no filler parts, has a larger cast, and tells perhaps a better story on an even larger scale. Let us travel back now to a simpler time and delight ourselves once again (or for most of you, for the first time — a journey you won’t regret, especially if you go out and get the two volume TPB collection to read for yourself) in the magnificence that was, is, and always will be Operation: Galactic Storm.
By “Interlude” we mean “Prologue”
The unofficial prologue to Operation: Galactic Storm begins (for me, if no one else since it’s not in the first TPB) in Avengers 344, “Echoes of the Past.” The majority of the issue is the continuation of a confrontation between the Avengers (which had recently had a roster change as it so often has during its 50-some year existence…where has that time gone?) and an old teammate thought dead now returned (not as uncommon in the Marvel Universe as one might suppose).
Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of this issue is its position in Avengers history and future, augmented by its own self-awareness of its position in that spectrum. The old Swordsman is back, apparently, though he is unstable and antagonistic to his former team, just as old friends are back (also unstable but not quite as antagonistic): Crystal the Immortal has joined recently, Sersi the Eternal is back, and Thor has recently been born anew in Eric Masterson, soon to be called Thunderstrike, bridging past and future. As Dane Whitman, the current Black Knight, is confronted with part of his past, so too Sersi suffers from an identity crisis. Even in the Avengers’ kitchen, past and present collide as Jarvis’s cooking and authority is questioned for the first time by Marilla in an amusing (if not familiar) comic relief break during the danger and uncertainty the other Avengers are experiencing elsewhere at that moment. The issue presages the storyline of Proctor and the Gatherers, though we aren’t sure of their connection to Sersi until several issues later — a conflict that affects the Avengers for some time, making it a fitting beginning for such a transforming crossover.
The self-awareness of the issue is most overtly seen in the three interludes (though one of the interludes is at the end of the issue, and should probably be an “epilogue” or “postlude”) sprinkled throughout, hinting at terrible and catastrophic things closer than we think: aboard intergalactic solar observatory Starcore, Dr. Peter Corbeau — Marvel’s go-to interstellar genius, roommate to Bruce Banner, friend to Charles Xavier — discovers the sun is close to going nova. You know you are in trouble when Uatu shows up all worried. What worries him, we now know, is the arrival of one of the greatest crossovers of all time: Operation: Galactic Storm. These three “interludes” are the only connection in the issue to the crossover, so it is understandable most people don’t consider this issue essential to the story. Though the intergalactic winds of the storm are not fully swirling, they are starting to gather on the horizon.
Part One — Captain America 398, “It Came from Outer Space”
The storm begins with a disastrous premonition: the Kree Empire is going to explode and only Captain America is going to survive … but it’s not Captain America — it’s the deposed leader of the Kree, the Supreme Intelligence. It’s all a dream, of course, but it’s a startlingly disconcerting way for the crossover to begin. Rick Jones, former friend and ally of Steve Rogers, is the sufferer of this portent, hundreds of miles away from Captain America in Arizona (and hundreds of light years away from the Kree Empire). The crossover element begins already, since Rick is back with his original pal Bruce Banner (the Hulk), guesting among the secret Pantheon of near-immortals. In an effort to understand his dream, Rick is counseled to speak directly to Cap about it, despite the fact they still aren’t close friends having never fully recovered from their fallout almost 300 issues ago (which was only a few years, Marvel reckoning, according to Rick). The narrative focus shifts to Captain America once Rick contacts him, and he is only too eager to meet him and discuss the issue, since Cap is that kind of guy (at least he was, back in the ’90s).
Cap is also having his own problems at the time, including his girlfriend having just gone missing and his personal pilot John Jameson getting snippy and mildly insubordinate. These problems (which become the main thrust of the rest of the year in Cap’s series after the crossover ends) soon are forgotten as Cap joins Rick for a spot of breakfast. As is so often the case in the Marvel Universe, our heroes’ breakfast is interrupted by the arrival of an alien: this time, Warstar of the Shi’ar Imperial Guard arrives to kidnap Rick Jones for some inexplicable reason. Despite his lingering antagonism, Rick is somewhat grateful Cap is there to fight off Warstar and help him get away, though his escape is short-lived, since the rest of the Imperial Guard soon arrive to finish what Warstar started. Considering how much time Rick Jones spends getting caught up in the squabbles of intergalactic empires, his growing antagonism toward most superheroes is understandable.
The main story ends with more questions than answers, which is where the first part of a 19-part giant crossover should end: Cap is stranded in Arizona wondering what is going on and why the Shi’ar came after Rick (and what happened to his girlfriend and his pilot); Rick is prisoner of the Shi’ar, who somewhat hardheartedly consider abandoning Warstar after his failure to secure Rick; and suddenly the issue comes full circle, as the Kree Supreme Intelligence awakens after a long dormancy his android receptacle for a portion of his mighty intellect, Supremor, ready to create something called the Starforce. Perhaps the being in Rick’s dream at the beginning was Supremor and not the Supreme Intelligence … only time (and the next issues) will tell. The winds of intergalactic war are starting to swirl indeed. (The issue concludes with a continuing sub-plot of some of Captain America’s other foes, as many issues do. We shall try to limit our focus solely on the main crossover-related aspects of these issues.)
Part Two — Avengers West Coast 80, “Turn of the Sentry”
Picking up directly after part one, AWC 80 is an incredibly packed issue a decade before 24 made the time-conscious narrative popular (but over a decade after the M*A*S*H episode “Life Time”). Rick Jones’s assumption the Kree are kidnapping him is understandable, considering they are inquiring after the Kree Captain Mar-Vell, and he just had the dream about the Kree homeworld. The rapid backstory review might be confusing to readers who weren’t around to read comics in the late ’60s and ’70s like I wasn’t, but the mind of a youth reading it accepts it as a nice rapid summary of a story without even realizing it refers to earlier comics. The letters page at the close of the issue explains whence the stories came, which wasn’t too helpful back in the day, but now with the benefits of various websites and classic TPB reprints, they are much more easily attainable. After the backstory, we return to the Avengers West Coast, training and recovering from their recent run-in with the Night Shift (though no sweet sounds came down other than the sweet sound of silent victory). Their temperamental differences contrasted with the East Coast Avengers is displayed rather well, with the high tensions between exes Hawkeye and Mockingbird, Living Lightning’s hesitation and acclimation, and Iron Man’s perpetual antagonism with Captain America. The writing, especially in subtle ways (such as the “yes” connections between both narrative foci) is quite good, even for an issue still preliminary to the main conflict featuring a second extended fight scene. Avengers West Coast always strikes me as a much better series than its recognition status, which is ironically appropriate considering it chronicled a team who felt the same way (since never were the New York-based Avengers called “East Coast,” as Spider-Woman points out in this very issue).
We still do not know why the Shi’ar are interested in Kree technology and information, especially since Oracle has such a hostile reaction to being called a Kree, but that only further piques our interest in what is really going on in this crossover. X-Men fans are quite familiar with the Shi’ar and may be surprised at the Avengers’ ignorance, but it is an impressive point in favor of the realistic quality of the Marvel Universe (if such a consideration may be allowed) that not everyone has heard of everyone else, just because they all have the same publishing imprint. Cap’s concern for rescuing Rick is rewarded with a brief but good panel, which is impressively balanced with the AWC’s general discontent Cap is around giving them orders as if everyone is always automatically under his authority (as Living Lightning is quick to point out) — though he is, since he’s the Avengers CEO. The mêlée ends with mixed results: the Kree sentry and outpost are destroyed, but the Shi’ar get away with the Psyche-Magnetron (a matter-reshaping device), no one knows what their plan is, and Rick Jones’s fate is unclear (though we soon find he has been rescued). To prevent their escape, Cap contacts Quasar in outer space and the narrative shifts to him at the close of the issue, demonstrating how well-plotted this crossover is. Quasar fails to capture the Shi’ar because a black solar flare interferes, tying in nicely to one of the “prologue interludes” from Avengers 344. The final panels bring the issue full-circle, as we return to the tomb of Captain Mar-Vell and the ominous revelation someone else is there, too. “Are we in for a Kree/Shi’ar War this time?” Cap asks, not wanting to know the answer. Hold on, Cap — you ain’t seen nothing, yet. This storm is just getting started.
Part Three — Quasar 32, “The Tomb of Mar-Vell”
Continuing the impressive narrative concision of this crossover, Quasar quickly shifts from failing to stop the Shi’ar from departing to connecting with the Starcore crew, learning from them what the readers found out back in Avengers 344: the sun is suffering egregious deleterious effects from the warping of space, an example of which Quasar has just seen for himself. It is mildly bemusing Dr. Corbeau is not in this issue, but the information is transferred in any event.
Quasar travels to Mar-Vell’s tomb (having been sent there by the Avengers after learning of the disturbance at the tomb hinted at the end of AWC 80). There, he rendezvous with another interstellar Marvel denizen, Starfox the Eternal, resident of Titan. Someone is breaking into Mar-vell’s tomb. The “someone” is actually two people: Captain Atlas and Dr. Minerva, the Kree’s go-to scientists and troublemakers (and love interests). Captain Atlas admits to Quasar and Starfox the Kree are indeed at war with the Shi’ar, and they are there to retrieve Mar-vell’s Nega-Bands, essentially to keep them out of Shi’ar hands (somehow they already know the Shi’ar have the Psyche-Magnetron).
During all this, Quasar and Starfox engage in another massive battle, the third in as many issues, each bigger than its predecessor — yet, somehow, each battle is well-scripted, well-paced, and well-received. Never does one get the feeling of “oh yes, another ‘epic’ battle — must be a crossover.” Each battle features different combatants, though all have been against the Shi’ar Imperial Guard, which makes the trio even more impressive. The surprise twist to this battle (I shan’t spoil it for you) is especially clever, abetted by its discovery not by our hero but by Dr. Minerva, an antagonist. The battle also showcases the first of this crossover’s many two-page “splashes” (as they are called in the business), each one an extraordinary display of artistry and emotional impact.
Meanwhile, in the Kree Galaxy, another seemingly-unconnected event occurs. A brilliant scientist, more aware of the decay and decadence growing in the Empire (in part because of the recent accession to power by the current rulers of the Kree, whom the scientist considers usurpers of the former ruler, the Supreme Intelligence we’ve heard so much about lately), unofficially exiled to a backwater planet, has not stood idly by but has instead continued his pursuit of cyber-genetic engineering. He tries out his work on himself, transforming into Korath the Pursuer, a mighty power intent on shaking the Kree Empire “to its foundations!” The plots and sub-plots start to ravel.
The narrative concision and precision of this series, as we have and shall continue to iterate, continues unobtrusively, as demonstrated during the major mid-issue battle scene: the action breaks to return our attention back to the Avengers West Coast at their Compound, where Captain America and the AWC discuss with Rick Jones (somewhat one-sidedly) what to do with him (ending the confusion of his whereabouts somewhat glossed over in AWC 80). Unwilling to return Rick to the Hulk just yet, Cap entrusts him to the 24-hour care of Simon Williams, a.k.a. Wonder Man. Meanwhile, as Quasar and Starfox bring the mighty battle to a conclusion (aided indirectly by Dr. Minerva, who virtually finishes the fight single-handedly), Captain Atlas recovers Mar-Vell’s Nega-Bands and makes Wonder Man’s job a whole lot more difficult: with a simple clang, Captain Atlas escapes Quasar and Rick Jones appears in his place — about to suffocate and explode in the vacuum of space! (Talk about your intense endings!) It’s a great issue, with humor (Quasar: “So where are the tomb-raiders?” Starfox: “In the tomb, I’d imagine.”), philosophy (Captain Atlas: “It is the mind that matters, not its house of flesh.”), a great fight scene, vulnerable heroes, dangerous villains, intriguing movement in all plot strands while adding more, an impressive two-page splash, and an intense ending demanding the reader dive into the next part of the series.
Part Four — Wonder Man 7, “Shared Space”
Picking up immediately where Quasar 32 left off, fortunately for Rick Jones, Captain Atlas begins his barrage against Simon Williams, demanding to know where he is. Wonder Man responds in kind, demanding to know where Rick Jones is. Neither is happy with the answers: Atlas is disgusted with being on “this backwater planet,” and Simon is disgusted with his immediate failure in his bodyguard role (as well as disgusted by the stupid Kree names).
Again the smooth flowing nature of the crossover is demonstrated well here in the language connections of the narrative shift oscillations: Wonder Man asks about “Nega-Bands” in one panel and the next shows Quasar, still at Mar-Vell’s tomb, responding to Rick with “What do you mean, ‘Nega-Bands’?” For a time, Rick is the only person who knows what is going on and explains to Quasar how the Nega-Bands allow the wearer to trade places with him (see AWC 80).
The title of the issue, “Shared Space,” is rather intelligent, considering all the layers of narrative to which it applies: immediately, Captain Atlas and Rick Jones “share space” thanks to the powers of the Nega-Bands; likewise, the primary reason the series occurs (other than a kairotic metaphoric treatment of the first Iraq War) is because the “shared space” of the Terran solar system between the Kree Empire and Shi’ar Imperium is in danger thanks to their stargate usage. In smaller, subtler ways, the title also relates to the continuing Wanda/Vision/Wonder Man conflict, as the personality/identity of Simon Williams is still a matter of “shared space” between the Vision and Wonder Man, and Wanda herself is a kind of “shared space” (in no demeaning way). Similarly, both the East and West Coast Avengers conflict over the “shared space” of Avenger name and identity. Simon’s inability to “share space” with his girlfriend adds to the genuine pathos of the conclusion of the issue, as Simon can’t ever find a way to live a “normal” life. This is an impressive, tightly constructed issue from title to conclusion.
The majority of the issue is another battle scene, yet once again the creative forces behind the series have come up with another interesting variation. Here, it is an extended duel between Wonder Man and Captain Atlas, which may seem dull in a prose summary, until one knows the particular twist on what could have been a conventional comic book trope in lesser creative hands: once Atlas figures out the transposition side-effects of the Nega-Bands, he utilizes them in an unusual hit-and-run strategy until Wonder Man figures out a successful countermeasure. It takes Simon some time, considering every time he winds up to smash Atlas in the face, before his hand connects Rick appears where Atlas just stood. Simon’s countermeasure, essentially aligning his windup with Atlas’s timing, results in the second great two-page splash of the series: one of the biggest, most memorable knockout punches in the history of comicdom. It’s mighty impressive.
In the lengthy conclusion to the issue, Wonder Man 7 continues the integration of multiple plot strands: Rick is finally returned to the Hulk (after a nice resolution to his conflict with Wonder Man, if not entirely sincere), Simon spends some time with his personal life, Scarlet Witch’s continual friction with Simon is given a few nice lines of dialogue, and Cap sets up the next issue by arranging for all Avengers (even reservists) to join him in New York. Additionally, the next in the series of Kree warriors is called by the Supreme Intelligence: this time it is Ultimus, the Demon Druid who has been hanging around in the misty back alleys of the Marvel Universe since 1973. Playing on familiar elements of the series, the issue does so in different and engaging ways. Even the time spent with Wonder Man’s supporting characters is fresh, in that we see Simon experience some of the psychological trials of being a superhero, wondering if he will ever return from the latest intergalactic mission, wondering if he will ever have the chance to enjoy a “normal” life, as mentioned above — an enjoyably refreshing close to the issue, considering Simon spends so much of the time hiding behind a façade of bravura, especially among his fellow superheroes. This pathos is made especially poignant when the narrative focus shifts to Simon’s landlady, who supposes he is flying off to some incredible adventure giving her a vicarious thrill she would be only too glad to know a posteriori. That she doesn’t understand his own hesitancy and despondency only adds to our own empathy with Simon: how could a superhero be embarking upon anything other than a grand adventure?
With the Avengers finally making some positive progress (capturing Captain Atlas and Dr. Minerva, gaining some intel on what is going on), the pieces are in place for the next major developments of the story … and suddenly the scene oscillates again to Starcore, where Dr. Corbeau is leading an emergency evacuation of the entire crew — a solar flare is about to destroy Starcore! The storm winds are turning into a mighty gale.
Part Five — Avengers 345, “Storm Gatherings”
Some time passes: Rick Jones’s time on stage is complete (much to his relief), and Captain America returns him (behind the scenes) to the Hulk, presumably on his way back to Avengers Headquarters in New York (ahead of the West Coast Avengers who are still preparing to rally later). Additionally, enough time has passed for the Avengers to rendezvous with Quasar (leaving Starfox and the captive Kree tomb-raiding twosome at HQ) and send an away team to respond to the emergency broadcast from Starcore. This brief reconnaissance trip produces an important secondary effect: Eric Masterson, the newly-made Thor, gets to test his powers and succeed at something — though he still needs more practice both in wielding his powers and coalescing with the Avengers (an already testy bunch at this point, considering everything going on lately). The moment the Avengers ascertain the Starcore crew is safe, the Shi’ar create another space rift, this time with an entire armada of warships on their way to the Kree Empire. The main Shi’ar vessel identifies the Avengers and, after some intriguing philosophical and ethical debate, opens fire. Quasar sends the Starcore crew to safety, and we never hear from them (or this armada, strangely enough) again.
Meanwhile, the impending conjunction of both coasts of Avengers fills everyone with discomfort. Crystal is uncertain which worries her more: intergalactic war or “being reunited with [her] estranged husband’s sister,” to which the Black Knight responds for us all: “It’s nice to know you can keep things in perspective. Then again, choosing between an angry Scarlet Witch and a space battle with little green men, I think I’d vote for the battle.” Understated mistrust and dissension runs through the team before they even leave home. Cap, too, is unsettled at the thought of so many Avengers together, lamenting the long-gone days of a small team and simpler problems.
The latest battle is again unique: this time, the four Avengers in outer space combat a Shi’ar warship, an unusual pairing for a fight. The commander of the warship, who advocated attacking the Avengers, turns out to be the shape-shifting Hobgoblin of the Shi’ar Imperial Guard, complicating the issue even further. Soon, Dane’s remark about Wanda is frighteningly applicable to Sersi: she has every intention of moving in “for the kill,” disturbing Quasar with her sheer brutality.
As can be expected, Captain America’s response learning of Sersi’s threat is not one of delight. Before the war commences, Avenger is pitted against Avenger, morality pitted against pragmatism. “It’s a slippery, muddy road once you being making death threats and incarcerating people … and I don’t want to see the Avengers … despite the best of intentions … get caught in the muck,” he says. Hank Pym has shrunk Dr. Minerva, Captain Atlas, and the crew of the Shi’ar warship (after the praetor surrendered) down to portable size. (Presumably, the crew of Starcore has also been rescued by now. The armada, apparently, went to wait out the war, not directly assault the Kree.)
Once the tempers cool, the Avengers get down to business: getting the Shi’ar and the Kree to stop their war. Mockingbird raises the good point: what right do the Avengers have to tell those races how to live (the parallel to the first Iraq War becomes clear, though it wasn’t clear to me reading it for the first time when I was 11). The Avengers, though, have an impeccable reason for urging the cessation of the conflict: the sun will go nova if the war continues. Instead of just acting like the police officers of the galaxy, the Avengers are compelled by pragmatism more than a personalized version of morality (this makes it easier for the creative team to prevent philosophical or religious backlash, though it would have been interesting had they sent the Avengers to do it simply “because it was the right thing to do”).
After much behind-the-scenes deliberation (most likely while the space quartet brought the Shi’ar warship back to Avengers headquarters), Cap separates the Avengers into three teams: one envoy to the Kree, one to the Shi’ar, and a reserve team to guard the home front. After an odd side scene of part humor and part antagonism, Hawkeye finds a way, thanks to Hank Pym, to switch from the home guard to the Kree team, much to the chagrin of U.S. Agent, who now has to stay behind, adding to the dissention in the ranks. Quasar stays behind to send the two teams to their destinations and resume his main rôle as Protector of the Universe (keeping an eye on the stargates).
Continuing the pattern of ending with a shocking epilogue, we oscillate for the first time to the Shi’ar homeworld. Fans of the X-Men are certainly familiar with Lilandra, Empress-Majestrix of the Shi’ar Imperium, and the burden of rule she constantly bears. Though she, too, expresses dissatisfaction with having to go to war, she, as most rulers seem to do, can find no alternative. We still don’t know what particular issue is driving this conflict, considering the Kree and Shi’ar more often travel different orbits in the Marvel Universe, or to what act of vengeance Lilandra refers, but the weight of the no-longer-impending conflict is about to reach its tipping point. The shocking epilogue this time is the arrival of Deathbird, Lilandra’s older sister, hinting at mysterious failsafe devices Lilandra not-so-covertly has up her long, metallic sleeves and offering a more palatable conclusion to the conflict in ways only the conscience-unencumbered Deathbird can provide. The winds of war just got quite a bit chillier. It’s a pragmatic sort of issue, featuring arguments about pragmatism and fulfilling the function of an intermediary issue, drawing the exposition to a close, setting the stage for the main conflicts ahead. Considering all the tensions among all the combatants, we know it is going to be a powerful ride.
Part Six — Iron Man 278, “Decisions in a Vacuum”
With the extended exposition complete and the instigating event of the teams splitting up for the Kree and Shi’ar galaxies recently occurring, the rising action begins. As Len Kaminski (writer of this issue) declares: “Now’s when things really get interesting.” With three main groups of characters to balance in mind, the planners of the series intelligently split up the teams to match the series in which the story occurs: in Iron Man 278, here, we focus on the Kree Empire away team of Iron Man, Captain America, Sersi, Hawkeye (as Goliath), Black Knight, Hercules, and Crystal. The team arrives in the Kree Empire and encounters a giant space station (it’s no moon). The lack of like-mindedness evident in Avengers 345 continues to rile the team from the beginning, as not everyone agrees they should land and investigate. Even as they work their way into the station, the Avengers can’t stop verbally sniping at each other, despite the gravity of the situation. Since it is Iron Man’s issue, much of the focus is on him; we even see from his computerized perspective in his spacesuit-version of his armor. Despite Captain America being the leader of the team, Iron Man takes the initiative to tear his way into the Kree communications network, using his computer technology to reconnoiter their situation and investigate the best way to get where they need to go next.
Meanwhile, the Supreme Intelligence, aware the Avengers have entered Kree space, orders the completion of the last member of his hand-picked Starforce: Shatterax, the Borg-like combination of Kree person and computer exoskeleton weapon. Everything is falling into place, says the Supreme Intelligence — which can’t be good for the Avengers.
While Iron Man spends precious time hacking his way through the Kree protocol network (keeping in mind this story was written in 1991, only months after the inauguration of the World Wide Web and four years before the commercialization of the Internet), the Avengers lollop about until suddenly attacked, surprisingly, by Shi’ar Commandos. What is even more confusing is the Shi’ar disintegrate when defeated, adding much mystery to the situation. While the Avengers hold off their improbable foes, Iron Man works through the Kree network to discover Shatterax is on his way to either arrest or execute them. Instead of explaining this to the Avengers, Iron Man takes off to intercept him on his own, irritating Cap to no end (not for the first time, and certainly not for the last — Cap’s frustration is one of the few humorous moments of the issue, as we totally empathize with Cap when he says “I hate it when he does that!” as Iron Man flies away). The interesting thing is, even though Iron Man may be violating protocol and ignoring his leader, he is doing the right thing for the needs of the situation. He truly does not have time to explain it to Captain America.
Shatterax arrives and joins Iron Man in combat, the latest battle with a twist. It’s a duel, like Wonder Man versus Captain Atlas, but this time it is a fully airborne assault, with long-range computerized weaponry. Despite his bravado, Iron Man can’t do very much in combat in his spacesuit. Despite his trickery and tactics, Iron Man is no match for Shatterax, a living weapon. It’s an intense battle, despite its brevity, made more thrilling by the perspective of seeing out of Tony Stark’s eyes inside his armor: we assess his status and the situation with him during the battle.
As Iron Man assesses his options, we learn why the issue is called “Decisions in a Vacuum,” though there really is only one decision to be made. In a clever narrative oscillation, we return to the rest of the Avengers who have defeated their foe and await whatever is next. We share their surprise as the next thing they see is Iron Man a manacled captive of Shatterax. Iron Man has surrendered the Avengers to the Kree Empire. The bickering between Cap and Iron Man heats up again under their breaths, but despite Cap’s irritation, Iron Man is right again: if he hadn’t done what he did, they may not have survived. At least now they have that slim chance….
It’s a fast-paced issue with little narrative depth, but it gets the job done well of moving the characters to where they want to be, sprinkling enough brief character moments and tensions to keep the multiple conflicts alive and enjoyable. Things are not going well for the Avengers, but they are going extremely well for the reader of this magnum opus.
Part Seven — The Mighty Thor 445, “The War and the Warrior”
Concurrent with Iron Man 278, Thor 445 shows us the Shi’ar away team: Thor (Eric Masterson), Wonder Man, Vision, Scarlet Witch, Captain Marvel (Monica Rambeau), Starfox, and the Living Lightning, young recent recruit of AWC — certainly an odd group for such an important mission, but as all recent issues have shown, the Avengers are currently experiencing as much stress and instability as the sun is. After a brief comical moment of the Scarlet Witch landing on Thor’s arm, the issue gets serious. The Avengers stumble on a Shi’ar world under attack by a Kree starfighter. Before its destruction, the world sends a distress signal to the homeworld, intercepted by Gladiator, the nearly invulnerable leader of the Imperial Guard, who assumes the Avengers are guilty and starts to attack them. Before he arrives, Captain Marvel and Living Lightning investigate the remains of the Kree starfighter, only to find a Skrull — hated enemy of the Kree — onboard. The mysteries increase. The pair of flyers evacuates the ship just before the Skrull destructs it.
In contrast to the big splashes of previous installments, this issue does some of its finest work in small 3”x3” panels. One of the best is on page 6, as Starfox and Scarlet Witch simply turn to Thor in response to his query “Who’d be dumb enough to try such a crazy stunt [like intercept Gladiator]?” The minimalist approach works brilliantly. Wonder Man volunteers for the job, brusquely dismissing the young replacement Thor who is “obviously out of his depth,” though he soon regrets being so harsh to the guy. Despite his attempts at diplomacy, Wonder Man has already done his duel in the series, and Gladiator quickly disposes of him while Thor broods over his own cowardice and insufficiencies. In another series of minimal yet rich panels, Thor stops Vision from taking his place a second time. Letterer Michael Heisler does a tremendous job sizing Tom DeFalco’s great writing, matching the intensity of Thor’s resolve with the quietness of his utterance. With a powerful kamikaze dive and ¾-page splash into Gladiator’s back, Thor joins the fray and regains the central narrative focus of his own issue.
The third quarter of the issue is dominated by the duel between Thor and Gladiator. In contrast to the short-lived outer space battle between Shatterax and Iron Man which approached Iron Man’s deficiencies in an almost ascetic, computerized manner, this present duel is a philosophical treatise on the morality of war and the role of the warrior (hence the title of the issue). Thor is powerful yet inexperienced; Gladiator is powerful and thoroughly experienced. Thor jokes and attempts to distract with sarcasms; Gladiator waxes on the horrors of war and the duty of warriors (in contrast to the poets who glorify war without having experienced it). Both are defending their homeworlds; neither is motivated to care for the other’s. Thor is driven by a need to prove himself; Gladiator is driven by his responsibility to his people and his duty to his Empress. It’s an impressive conflict, again forcing the reader to think through the ideas being contested, as we start to realize Gladiator is right, but his unwillingness to care for Earth as well as his own people taints his moral superiority. The inexperienced Thor has no chance against Gladiator, until he sees Living Lightning escaping from the Kree starship. Using the Asgardian power of Mjolnir, Thor summons Living Lightning to crash into Gladiator, stunning them both. With one mighty full-page splash, Thor drives his Uru hammer into Gladiator, knocking him out.
Unfortunately for young Eric Masterson, in order to beat “the monster,” he starts to become “the monster.” Borrowing Gladiator’s own language, he starts railing on about his own duty to his own people, including his own loved ones, and how they are more important than Gladiator’s Shi’ar people, and how he will come after every single terrorizing bully who claims to be superior or endanger others with war — all the while pummeling the unconscious Gladiator with his hammer.
Fortunately for young Eric Masterson, Wonder Man recovers and prevents him, with Vision’s help, from killing Gladiator. While Captain Marvel learns how to reach the Shi’ar homeworld, Living Lightning forces Thor to ponder the morality of using his teammate without respect, even for what appears to be “a good reason.” If they have to resort to the tactics and moral stance of their enemy, are they truly any better? Thor isn’t quite ready to listen, though, and impulsively sends Gladiator through the Shi’ar stargate, using Mjolnir to seal it closed forever, imploding their only path home, yet enabling them perhaps to complete their mission.
While using the information Captain Marvel gathered to get to the Shi’ar homeworld, the Avengers debate briefly the morality of choices made in “total war,” and whether “no sacrifice is too great.” Captain Marvel is not for it, holding to the stance the Avengers are “supposed to be the good guys,” and thus should be above the “all’s fair in love and war” mentality. Living Lightning, one of the new recruits in the new generation, is starting to come around to Thor’s side, though. The chasm between Avengers is ever widening. The debate is curtailed suddenly as their starship is suddenly surrounded by an entire Shi’ar fleet. Things are just not going well for them in any galaxy. It’s a thought-provoking issue, despite the assumptions the reader immediately makes about it being a simple “muscle-bound blockheads engaging in senseless battle” story from the cover. Serving to progress the story along and move the characters where they need to be, the issue asks more questions than it answers, while forcing us to examine the Avengers and their motivations and morality not just for this mission but for their very existence.
Part Eight — Captain America 399, “Twenty Million Light Years from Earth”
The Kree Avengers team arrives at Hala, the Kree homeworld — prisoners. The bickering between Cap and Iron Man hasn’t stopped, and Cap won’t concede Iron Man got them to their destination in one piece, since it wasn’t the way he wanted. Since it’s his issue, Cap’s internal monologue drives most of the narration. Almost immediately, Shatterax is forced to hand the Avengers over to Ronan the Accuser, equivalent to the chief of police for the entire empire, once Ronan is finished dressing him down in front of everyone. The Avengers take the opportunity in the embarrassing confusion to make a break for it, propelled by Sersi’s matter-transformation magic, disguising them in Accuser uniforms. Shortly into their getaway, Iron Man pulls rank on Cap again (being a founding member of the Avengers, regardless of whoever is field leader) and splits away again to fly reconnaissance. Hawkeye joins him, and the team is effectively split up again. Nothing seems to be going right for them during this critical mission.
Meanwhile, the Supreme Intelligence’s diverse team of warriors finally gathers in another corner of Hala for the first time. Like the Avengers, this team is disunified, though with much better reason, having been mysterious called individually by a disembodied voice, not a long-term team of superheroes willingly banded together to fight injustice. Supremor, the host for the Supreme Intelligence, joins the disparate band (Ultimus, Shatterax, and Korath) and provides them with purpose: help the Supreme Intelligence regain the throne — exactly what the Avengers didn’t need.
The rest of the Avengers wander through the main city of the Kree homeworld, observing the squalid conditions of the oppressed underclasses. Iron Man checks in to direct them where they need to go next, and the Avengers naturally hijack their own flying wanted billboard/zeppelin to do it. The only thing standing in their way now is Korath, who finally gets some action. The duel in this issue is brief and reminiscent of the fight between Shatterax and Iron Man, but it is distinct in that Captain America is not a naturally airborne combatant. Instead, he uses his acrobatic skills to defeat him in midair through quick energy and using Korath’s weapons against him. With a little assistance from Dane Whitman, Cap shakes Korath off (for now), and the Avengers head to their rendezvous with Iron Man. It’s a short, mostly fast-paced issue, since the final five pages of the issue are given to a supporting story. The fast pace helps keep it interesting, along with the progress of the Starforce finally gathering together. The continuing antagonism between Cap and Iron Man is potentially leading to something disastrous, which even Hercules can sense. At least they have managed to escape captivity, so something is going right.
Part Nine — Avengers West Coast 81, “They Also Serve…”
Back at the ranch (the “ranch” being Project Pegasus in New York and not either Avengers Headquarters), U.S. Agent is still irate Hawkeye usurped his place and is taking it out on, of all people, She-Hulk. That tells you everything you need to know about John Walker, U.S. Agent (and why he’s not Steve Rogers, Captain America). Most of the home guard aren’t happy about being left behind (especially the active Avengers East and West) except for Gilgamesh, who is pretty relaxed most of the time. Prevented from coming to blows (barely), Agent is reminded he and Mockingbird are supposed to be guarding the miniaturized prisoners. Agent proves he really isn’t pretending to be a jerk when he tells Mockingbird the reason he wanted her on the AWC: “even if you can’t really do all that much, you’d sure improve the scenery” (emphasis in original). Yes, ladies, that’s John Walker, superhero, circa 1992. Mockingbird does the right thing and flips him over onto his backside. Before their discussion can go further, Nightside of the Shi’ar Imperial Guard shows up, stuns them, and proceeds to release the captives with the help of her miniaturized teammate Scintilla. We knew it was going to be one of those days, Miltonian allusion in the title notwithstanding.
The Shi’ar Imperial Guard rarely get the chance to demonstrate their (for lack of a better word) humanity, especially in their distinct personalities, since they are usually shown in a combative sense, but these few panels showing some of their interaction (just like in the previous AWC issue) are impressive and enjoyable character moments, making it more difficult to think of them as “the bad guys.” Before they can fully rescue their comrades, She-Hulk stumbles onto them while attempting to apologize to U.S. Agent and manages to peal the classic rallying cry “Avengers Assemble!” before getting knocked out. It’s not really a battle this time, since the Avengers overpower the Shi’ar fairly quickly. While this rapid action ensues, Dr. Minerva and Captain Atlas escape from their imprisonment and miniaturization and make good their escape. Or do they….
Once the Avengers realize the Kree have escaped, they chase them to no avail. U.S. Agent takes the opportunity to cement his impulsiveness by jumping on their getaway spaceship, under the delusion he is Indiana Jones, but the Kree shake him off quickly. Spider-Woman and She-Hulk break his fall, saving his life, to which he responds with an antagonist barb at the East Coast Avengers. That’s the spirit, John.
Onboard the escaping Kree vessel, Captain Atlas is confused why Dr. Minerva is taking them to rendezvous with a Shi’ar starcruiser. Atlas is further confused by the presence of the Imperial Guard. Confronting her, Atlas is shocked to find Dr. Minerva is actually the Shi’ar Hobgoblin, whom last we saw causing a to-do on the Shi’ar craft in Avengers 345. With Captain Atlas in their power, the Shi’ar finally get Mar-Vell’s Nega-Bands. This cannot be good.
Back in New York, Mockingbird discovers the real Dr. Minerva, who tells them what just happened. She helps the Avengers solely out of revenge against her enemies. She-Hulk contacts Quasar to intercept the Shi’ar vessel before it’s too late … and he fails a second time, though it’s not a solar flare that prevents him this time: it’s Starbolt and Neutron, who stay behind to allow the starship to get the Nega-Bands to Lilandra, propelling the action straight into Quasar 33. It’s a good “home front” issue that manages to propel the main story along as well, a rare, impressive feat.
Part Ten — Quasar 33, “Spatial Deliveries”
Half-way through the epic crossover, Quasar is given another transitional episode. His repeated failure at preventing anyone from using the stargates makes wonder why exactly he was left behind, since he isn’t doing much good — not that we blame him or doubt his efficacy as Protector of the Universe: one being against two interstellar fleets is a bit much to ask. With help, he effectively defeats Starbolt and Neutron, though too late, using what is becoming standard Avenger tactics: hit-and-run maneuvers combined with warping his enemy away from home. Quasar manages to track down the Shi’ar vessel, but not before they drain Atlas of information and beam the Nega-Bands back to the homeworld (hence the title “spatial deliveries”). Page 9 of the issue clarifies what appeared to be a dropped plot thread in AWC 81: the Shi’ar rescue team did escape the Avengers, most likely while they ran out to see U.S. Agent prove he’s not Indiana Jones (or even Encyclopedia Brown). It’s tough to outmaneuver alien empires with interstellar transportation capabilities.
The middle of the issue is a bit awkward, though it matches Quasar’s awkwardness in a way: barging straight into the Shi’ar vessel, Quasar demands the return of Atlas and the Nega-Bands, threatening (as he learned from Sersi in Avengers 345) to take them all on. Unfortunately for Quasar, he is dealing with the Imperial Guard this time, not a crew of mortal Shi’ar soldiers. As mentioned above, he is already too late to do anything meaningful, so he takes Atlas and heads to the heart of the Shi’ar Imperium in an attempt to regain the Nega-Bands.
The scene oscillates to Chandilar, throneworld of the Shi’ar, picking up the trail from Thor 445. Thor gratefully lets Captain Marvel do the negotiating with Prime Minister Araki, until his newfound impudence rears its head again. Continuing his descent into Gladiator-mode, Thor threatens to bring the planet down around their ears, infuriating everyone. Thor defends himself with the “it got the job done” reasoning, sliding further into pragmatism and away from the moral high ground the Avengers are quickly abandoning.
Just outside, Quasar has made his way to Chandilar with Captain Atlas in tow. Continuing the unusual nature of the issue, Binary (the former Ms. Marvel, Carol Danvers) shows up to confront Quasar; though she is a Starjammer (enemies of the Imperial Guard), she is working with the Imperial Guard in the effort to delay Quasar’s interference. The Imperial Guard captures Atlas again, though Shatterax rescues him at the close of the issue. Soon Quasar gets hoisted on his own petard, as the Imperial Guard do to him what he just did to Neutron. With Quasar out of the way (for now), Lilandra learns the secret experiment with the Nega-Bands is now a success: billions of Kree are in serious trouble. The odd, unexplained elements mar the issue somewhat, but the story moves along and increases in menace. The Avengers continue their descent into misrule and can’t manage to do anything successfully, but the readers are still treated well with a high-quality story.
Part Eleven — Wonder Man 8, “Death Adrift”
Staying in the Shi’ar Imperium, the focus returns to the Avengers. Some brief time has passed, since the Avengers have finally been allowed to meet Lilandra, who is overseeing the departure of the tool designed to end the war: the Nega-Bomb, though she is telling everyone it’s just a portal. The question of morality is raised again throughout the issue: first, Corsair refuses to be a part of it. Lilandra’s response is reminiscent of Gladiator’s: is the safety of one planet more important than an empire’s security? The rest of the Starjammers agree with Lilandra and accept the commission to tow the Nega-Portal into the Kree Empire, though they worry about losing so many crewmates (explaining the confusion in the previous episode why Binary was with the Imperial Guard and not the Starjammers). Simon Williams, Wonder Man, though, will have none of it: he knows what it truly is. Grabbing Vision, he leaps onto the departing Nega-Bomb, ignoring the pleas of the remaining Avengers. Nothing good seems to happen when the Avengers act impulsively.
The rest of the issue is a marvelous two-fold philosophical treatise on the nature of humanity and the morality of war from the soldier’s perspective. Vision, ever the unemotional rationalist, cautions him against trying to disrupt the bomb: it would be more efficient to let the Shi’ar win this way. “I won’t let people die in the name of efficiency!” is Wonder Man’s response. Compounding his frustration is his continued battle with the loss of his humanity. Vision used to be based on Simon’s personality, giving Simon a tenuous hold on his humanity (it’s complicated, but their discussion throughout the issue makes it far more lucid than a brief summary could here) which is increasingly dissipating. Dying and being reborn as an ionic entity does that to people.
The Starjammers realize they have stowaways, and the second philosophical discussion begins (after a brief brouhaha and another two-page splash). Wonder Man soon calms the Starjammers down long enough to explain the situation to them: they aren’t ferrying technology to aid the war effort; they are ferrying a bomb big enough to wipe out the entire Kree Empire, destroying billions of lives — can they live with that? will it be enough to say “I was just following orders”? Wonder Man does not tell them what to do; he does not foist his definition of war morality on them. Instead, he does what no general ever does for his troops: he gives them an accurate understanding of what they are being asked to do and then gives them a choice. The entire discussion is worth reading and debating, especially during an age of modern warfare.
The Starjammers choose not to taxi the bomb to its destination, willing to risk Lilandra’s wrath over their own seared consciences. Hastily, they sever the ties between their ship and the bomb, leaving Wonder Man and the Vision trapped in Shi’ar space adrift on the universe’s most dangerous weapon. Though lesser readers will see this as a political diatribe against war-happy/-hungry presidents (the same dull-witted folk who thought M*A*S*H was merely a mockery of the Vietnam War), better readers will recognize this as a philosophical inquiry into the connection between morality and war. If there isn’t one, there’s no hope for war (and those who love it). If there is (and this issue acknowledges there is), war must be waged morally — the best way to do that, perhaps, is to give the soldiers the same information the leaders/generals have. Deception, even in the name of “efficiency,” is unacceptable. As if that weren’t enough to make a rare, great comic, Simon’s continuing quest to understand and regain his humanity makes this truly a challenging, enjoyable read even by itself — which is not something often said about a part 11 of a 19-part series.
Part Twelve — Avengers 346, “Assassination”
Though the cover and title of this issue give away the ending rather boldly, by the time we get to it, we are still surprised and shocked by what happens. Back in the Kree Empire, the Avengers (minus Iron Man and Hawkeye) are poised to enter the capitol citadel of Kree-Lar on Hala. The narrator, again, is the Supreme Intelligence, and the reader is reminded from the beginning of the issue he is the grand designer of these events, or at least he thinks he is. He is the master weaver tightening all the threads, preparing to trim the loose frays, finishing his tapestry in which all the players are merely pawns deceiving themselves they have the freedom to act willfully. It’s an unnerving issue from beginning to end, even 20 years later.
The Avengers feel the disquiet and can’t help but comment on it: how could they have so easily gotten so far into the heart of the Kree Empire? Sersi, in her discordant way, likens their journey to storming the Bastille: an appropriately ironic allusion, since they are escaped prisoners about to storm the stronghold of government. For the first time in the series, we see the co-rulers of the Kree: Ael-Dan and Dar-Benn. Again, the Supreme Intelligence tells us (on page 3!) they will be dead before the day is over. The bluntness of the issue adds to its unnerving atmosphere.
Two-thirds into the series, the Supreme Intelligence tells us the “endgame” begins with the arrival of Deathbird on Hala. He has no respect for the Avengers (or any Earthers), and he has no respect for Deathbird as a person, but he does admit to some mild impressiveness with her abilities to bring death (her name is fitting) — yet we are chilled again when he intimates even though this is the “endgame” of one plan, it is only the prelude to the true “nightmare” to come.
One page later we finally see the culmination of the Supreme Intelligence’s gathering of disparate Kree warriors: Starforce is together! At least, version one. By the end of this issue, the roster will be modified already. Even with such a finely-paced crossover, once or twice a plot thread is moved inexplicably from one location to another (that it only happens a couple of times in a 19-part crossover is a testament to the fine crafting and skill of the creative teams involved, abilities seemingly lost — if not temporarily misplaced — by the end of the decade). Case in point: Dr. Minerva. When last we saw her in AWC 81, she was still a prisoner of the Avengers home guard. The partially inattentive reader will think this is a mistake: though we can guess she, too, was rescued by Shatterax, her real “escape” will be clarified in AWC 82. As with all the teams in this crossover, Starforce is disunified from their onset. Oddly enough, Ultimus is the one who urges unity based on remembering “what it means to be Kree,” which he hadn’t known he was until just recently. Though, as always when dealing with the Supreme Intelligence, we are dubious as to what he says and why. Immediately after Ultimus’s brief laud, the Supreme Intelligence tells Starforce the Avengers are here to assassinate Ael-Dann and Dar-Benn, which some readily believe, though Minerva is skeptical the Avengers are in league with the Shi’ar. They all tow the company line soon enough and head out for the latest battle in the crossover. Hercules is more right than he knows: the Supreme Intelligence does not overlook the passions of free men in his empire.
The battle is the most typical of the battles to date, and thus unique that way, but it does include one important scene. Recognizing they are outnumbered and outgunned (without Iron Man and Hawkeye), Dane Whitman makes the declaration: “It’s time for drastic measures.” That’s always the sign something horribly bad and morally bankrupt is about to happen. Dane says he’s switching his neural-sword setting to kill. Cap, naturally, is having none of it: “No! The day I countenance a move like that is the day I leave the Avengers! Understood?” Dane understands. This time. It’s a brief moment and thus easy to overlook — but don’t.
Somehow the battle leads into the Imperial Citadel, and Deathbird is already there watching from the rafters. The battle ends abruptly, though the Avengers don’t know why: Ael-Dan and Dar-Benn have arrived. Full of pompous recriminations, the pair castigate the Avengers and the members of Starforce, condemning them all to death for not operating the way they want. Cue: Deathbird. As is their wont, a force field springs up around the Avengers and Starforce, forestalling their interference. Deathbird swoops down, puts Ael-Dan and Dar-Benn in their places and sends them to their maker. We knew it was coming, but it is still starting in its swiftness and her brutality. Her exit speech is equally startling: she is willing to consider the Kree and Shi’ar even, but if they continue their assault, all the Kree will pay. It’s an issue bursting with irony and foreshadowing.
The Supreme Intelligence wastes no time in resuming his throne (metaphorically, considering he is a disembodied projection of eons’ worth of Kree leaders, thinkers, and scientists). Dane is right: now they are in real trouble. The Supreme Intelligence links in to the Kree network: instantly he blames the death of the leaders on the Shi’ar and the Avengers, declaring the Shi’ar will pay in total war and the Avengers will be put to death publically the next day. Ronan the Accuser takes over as the head of Starforce on a new mission to bring back the head of Lilandra; Minerva and Atlas stay behind to watch the Avengers. With all the pieces in place, and his master plan of resuming the throne successful, the Supreme Intelligence concludes the issue like he began it, ruminating on the life and death of billions. Despite the superiority and contentment he has instilled in his people, the Supreme Intelligence knows it is all a façade: the real conclusion is yet to come — the death of the Kree Empire. It’s a haunting issue, made more so by the distance the reader feels to the events. With the narration driven by the passively observant Supreme Intelligence, we feel even more distanced from the action than usual, like we are watching some horrible series of car crashes and explosions, knowing the worst is about to happen but we can’t look away. This sense of stasis is oddly set off by the rapid pace of the issue. It’s a chilling issue that’s tough to enjoy but impossible not to be astounded by. The winds of war are at full blast.
Part Thirteen — Iron Man 279, “Bad Judgment”
Picking up moments after the last installment, we find Iron Man and Hawkeye wondering what to do, oblivious to the Supreme Intelligence’s loudspeaker declarations the Avengers face imminent execution. More concerned with how Iron Man’s cloaking field makes him itchy, Hawkeye does not notice the propaganda film blaring in front of his face until halfway through the story. Once they realize what is going on, their reactions to the accusations are unsurprising: Hawkeye is irate at the notion Avengers could commit murder (“That’s not how we operate!”); Iron Man is quietly embittered (“Hardly surprising, though. I would’ve expected authentic justice to be in short supply here. We’ll just have to make some of our own.”). Oh dear. We’ve seen throughout the series the sharp differences among the Avengers, particularly in their philosophies to war, justice, and morality. Iron Man clearly represents situational morality and justice, as if that somehow will prove more just than the Kree’s situational justice. After more bickering (Hawkeye truly does complain a lot, even though he thinks he’s being funny), the final two free Avengers split up.
With Iron Man as the central focus again, we return to his computerized perspective. He’s still in bad shape after his encounter with Shatterax, and assaulting the Kree Citadel of Justice singlehandedly is not going to help matters much. Even though the panels showing Tony Stark’s mental state are scarce, we still get a good, meaningful grasp of his increasing sense of desperation. The “bad judgment” of the title again cleverly relates to multiple narrative elements: not only was the Supreme Intelligence’s vindictive judgment against the Avengers bad (as in “thoroughly unjust”), but also Tony Stark is losing his ability to make sound decisions (leading to “bad judgment”).
The narration shifts again inside the Citadel. Captain America is being taken away for individual trial, stoically claiming “[t]he innocent have nothing to fear from true justice.” Either he’s not paying attention or he’s quickly proving himself an ossified relic no longer fit for the contemporary world of situational justice. (Or perhaps the creative teams are telling us he’s the only one with a grasp on true justice, and he alone should be heeded, despite majority or pragmatic popularity.) Another brief moment of “bad judgment” comes as Hercules charges against his captors, unheeding the laser-beam bars until they zzrrap him into docility. Higher up in the Citadel, the Supreme Intelligence has his final revenge on Ael-Dan and Dar-Benn, assimilating them into himself.
Iron Man begins his one-man assault on the Kree, only to stumble immediately upon Ronan the Accuser (as the cover indicates would happen), who is himself desperate to prove his worth to his disembodied leader. It’s an interesting issue as far as location oscillation, shifting from the uppermost reaches of the Citadel where the Avengers are captive, to the street level where Iron Man and Ronan battle, and down to the sewers where Hawkeye stumbles upon Deathbird — in the manner of loudly sneaking up on her from the front using Iron Man’s tracking device, which she shoots with her laser pistol getting the drop on Hawkeye in the process. Hawkeye is certainly the comic relief, though much more respectable and likable than U.S. Agent (bolstered by his moral strength and long-lasting career with the Avengers). Ever cool under pressure (most of the time, anyway), Hawkeye turns the tables on Deathbird and convinces her to help him clear the Avengers’ names.
Iron Man’s duel with Ronan is short and intense, and though it doesn’t quite stick out in uniqueness like so many battles in the series, it is remarkable for Iron Man’s rapid acceptance of what he considers his inevitable demise. Most poignant is Tony’s acceptance of his culpability as well: he may have been right to surrender to Shatterax and thus get the Avengers arrested in the first place, but he is still responsible for where they are now, and he is in some way responsible for getting them out. His willingness to sacrifice himself (and take out Ronan in the process) strikes the right emotional chord, even if the reader is not a fan of Tony Stark and/or Iron Man.
The rapid slam-bang finish of the issue is intense, to say the least. It has a 24-like finish, a decade before 24. Hawkeye and Deathbird rescue the Avengers in time for them to save Iron Man from Ronan and self-slaughter — the appearance of the rallying cry “Avengers Assemble” in the rescue reminds us how rarely we have heard it during this crossover, when few moments of enthusiasm have been appropriate for Earth’s Mightiest Beleaguered Heroes. Deathbird stealthily disappears as is her wont, and Hawkeye (in his Goliath persona) brings down the roof to allow the Avengers to disappear much more conspicuously, motivated with the knowledge from Deathbird the Shi’ar are prepared to launch the Nega-Bomb against the Kree. With this literal ticking time bomb added to the equation, Iron Man makes the tough decision as only a leader can do: the Avengers have to abandon Captain America and go after the Nega-Bomb (more “bad judgment”). Most agree, but, bringing this and the last Iron Man issue full circle, Hawkeye dissents and rebels, heading out to rescue Cap. Even though he did the same thing last time, Iron Man will not tolerate it in another Avenger here: he stuns Hawkeye and carries him back to the Quinjet. The Avengers, stunned metaphorically, tacitly follow. As if that was not enough of a dramatic conclusion, the epilogue takes us quickly back to the Nega-Bomb still floating in space. Who should stumble across it but the mysterious race sporadically appearing at the most inexplicable times throughout this crossover — the Skrulls! “Very interesting,” says the Skrull captain. Very interesting, indeed!
Part Fourteen — The Mighty Thor 446, “Now Strikes the Starforce!”
The Shi’ar Avengers have finally arrived at the Palace Regal on Chandilar, throneworld of the Shi’ar Imperium. The Imperial Guard, what remains of it, is unhappy about escorting them to Lilandra, for various reasons. Lilandra, in full regalia, is likewise irritated with them — perhaps if they were the X-Men, she would have been a bit happier to see them. The tensions are ratcheted up by Prime Minister Araki, who mimics Guardian’s argument the needs of “a single, insignificant, little backwater planet” pale in comparison to the needs of “the entire Shi’ar Empire!” He still believes they are in league with the Kree who assaulted their outpost. That Thor trounced Gladiator and closed their stargate and Wonder Man highjiacked their Nega-Portal doesn’t make their claims for peace all that palpable. Thor’s hotheadedness rears its hot head again, infuriating Lilandra (and making Captain Marvel none too happy, as well). The meeting is adjourned.
The Kree Starforce arrives at that moment, splitting up to track down Lilandra as quickly as possible. In a nice nod to the series’ continuity, the reader is privy to Korath’s thoughts they would have been their sooner had Ronan not taken the time to fight Iron Man in the previous installment. While Captain Marvel upbraids Thor and his continuing lack of impulsiveness, Araki and Lilandra discuss the progress of the war. In the solitude of her chambers, we finally see Lilandra’s softer side as she begins to lament the damage the war is doing to the Shi’ar, Earth, and even the Kree. Araki, displeased with Lilandra’s weakening, secretly prepares to assassinate her himself, saving Starforce the trouble, but he is prevented by the Imperial Guardsman Earthquake and his report. Suddenly, none of it matters as the Starforce and Imperial Guard finally join in combat throughout the palace.
This latest battle is unique mainly because the Avengers are mostly ancillary components for so much of it. The cover is quite accurate: it is a battle between the Kree Starforce and Shi’ar Imperial Guard, with the Avengers caught in the middle. Since they are there to enlist Shi’ar assistance, the Avengers soon join in with the Imperial Guard, which likewise helps heal the wounds and irritations noted earlier in the issue (though it’s not as simple and sappy as this last sentence made it out to be — fast, perhaps; neat, sure; but it works well, since the conflicts come more to an uneasy truce than genuine camaraderie). Living Lightning’s appreciation for Thor increases throughout the issue, and Thor gets some narrative focus, since it’s his series, but not as much as in the previous issue. The brief duel between Ronan with his Universal Weapon and Thor with Mjolnir is a good couple of panels, but the needs of the star-studded issue prevent it from getting enough elaboration. While this mega brouhaha rages, the scene briefly shifts to Wonder Man and Vision, who feel the effects of the Skrull’s discovery of the Nega-Bomb. Now they, too, know the Skrulls are playing some inscrutable role in this perplexing conflict between the Shi’ar and Kree.
The real highlight of the issue is Starfox’s encounter with Ultimus. Already shown to be the most conscience-affected member of Starforce, Ultimus struggles not just to overcome Starfox but also understand him, though in the end he is too limited by the biases of his recent “education” from the Supreme Intelligence to heed the higher call of mercy, since it “is not the way of the Kree” — a telling declaration in a war riven by the seeming incompatibility of morality and justice.
Though he’s there to save her, Starfox is saved by Lilandra, but she gets to the heart of the issue — Starfox’s willingness to die for her, choosing “honor above expediency” (the other key motif in the series), inspires and shames her. For the first time she calls the Nega-Portal by its proper name, the Nega-Bomb. She declares it will be recalled and the war will end by negotiations not attrition. Unfortunately for her conscience (and the lives of the Kree), we know it is essentially too late: the Skrulls are going to detonate the Nega-Bomb in Kree space. Wonder Man was right: if one waits too long for morality to rule out, stopping the war machines in time may become impossible.
Part Fifteen — Captain America 400, “Murder by Decree!”
On Hala, Captain America is about to be engulfed in a giant explosion — is it the Nega-Bomb? No, though the reader is not certain for a few pages just what is going on, an impressive tension this late into the crossover. When we last saw Cap, he was being led away from the rest of the Avengers to face individual judgment. We know the Avengers have just left him behind to try to prevent the Nega-Bomb from entering Kree space, and a brief look into the Quinjet reveals everyone is still stunned by the turn of events. Iron Man maintains his stoic leadership position on the outside, but inside he fears he will be responsible for the death of one of America’s greatest heroes — an interesting position considering their constant antagonism over the years.
Cap awakes alone in the dark, far from the rubble and human debris under which he was just smothered. In a brief flashback, Cap recounts for us what just happened: the guards led him to the Supreme Intelligence, who was about to execute him when the building exploded around him. Now he is alone in an empty room, until he is suddenly attacked from behind.
To honor 400 issues of Captain America (perhaps more than to continue the actual crossover story, which takes a little breather here), Captain America is attacked by six of his most deadly enemies: King Cobra, Batroc, Flag-Smasher, Viper, Crossbones, and the Red Skull. We aren’t certain how the Supreme Intelligence managed to transport them here just to destroy Cap, but it does provide an interesting twist in the long series of battles (a 6-on-1 handicap match). Captain America does his best to overcome the odds, and for a long time he succeeds. Eventually, though, as can be expected, they overpower him. Moments before the Red Skull finally destroys his adversary, Batroc helps Cap break free and take out the other five, preferring to be a gentleman and not let Cap be defeated in such an unfair war. Cap soon figures out they aren’t really real, just projections from his own memory. The Supreme Intelligence reappears to congratulate Cap for being so resourceful and clinging so desperately to life. Unfortunately this means he won’t have the “honor” of being integrated into the Supreme Intelligence’s collective mind. The Supreme Intelligence flings him back into the darkness telling him he only has moments to live anyway. Cap’s not sure what that means, but we are reminded in the final panel of the Skrull ship towing the Nega-Bomb slowly toward Kree space. The end is imminent.
Like most “anniversary” issues, Captain America 400 is a giant-sized issue packed with supporting stories and the obligatory “famous story reprint.” The famous reprint is Avengers 4, Cap’s resurrection in the modern world (of 1964), having spent the last two decades in suspended animation on an ice floe. The second of two new supporting stories is a continuing look at what is going on with Rachel Leighton, Cap’s villainous girlfriend, Diamondback, who is a prisoner of Crossbones. The first supporting story briefly ties in to Operation: Galactic Storm. An old friend and teammate of Cap’s, Dennis Dunphy (D-Man), thought killed several years ago in the Marvel-wide Inferno epic story (though only a year has passed in the Marvel sense of time), has reappeared alive in the Arctic. Flag-Smasher tells the Avengers to come get him (as part of a plot to lure Cap to his doom). The home front Avengers get the message, and Falcon and U.S. Agent (an unlikely pairing) head off to rescue D-Man. It’s a brief little action-adventure story, supported by amusing character moments (U.S. Agent isn’t quite as jerky as he usually is, though he wouldn’t have gotten the job done without the Falcon). The unlikely team gets the job done and return D-Man to his friends, though he isn’t in much of a condition to celebrate. Though Cap is apparently about to die in the heart of the Kree Empire, at least his friends are okay (sort of).
Part Sixteen — Avengers West Coast 82, “Shi’ar Hatred”
Though we have postulated throughout this reflection the crossover is an impressively-plotted story, we have admitted a couple of places seem not to fit. This issue clears up one such point but replaces it with another. Still, only a couple of niggling points in a 19-part crossover (with a prelude and multiple epilogues) is an impressive feat. The cover, likewise, is a smidge misleading, but it is better understood not as an indicator of what happens inside but directly after it.
The issue begins with the confusing part: when last we saw Lilandra, she was expressing her shame for attacking the Kree with little apparent provocation and clamoring for the recall of the Nega-Bomb. However, apparently her magnanimity does not apply to the Starforce: clearly she wants them dead. Likewise, despite all the mutuality of the Avengers and Imperial Guard during their recent duel with the Starforce, the amity is short-lived as tensions boil over rapidly. Again, unfortunately, it is mainly Thor’s fault: he clobbers one of the Guardsmen, again infuriating Captain Marvel, again setting the rest of the Imperial Guardsmen off — battle ensues, this time without the Starforce. As confusing as it appears to be, if one remembers the result of the recent battle was not genuine camaraderie but an uneasy truce, it’s not all that surprising, especially if Thor refuses to be mature. It does provide the next enjoyable two-page splash while we are treated to a variation on the Avengers’ battle cry: this time it’s “Avengers Attack!” — a telling difference, considering the diminishing morality involved on every side of this galactic storm. The winds of war are swirling in all directions, debilitating everyone, including allies.
The impetuousness of this new generation of Avengers finally brings one positive result: Living Lightning, fed up with Prime Minister Araki, blasts him with a bolt of lightning. Instead of knocking him out, it reveals Araki is actually a Skrull! Clearly the Skrulls have played a much more active role in this war than all have suspected. The revelation brings an immediate cessation to the conflict and helps restore Lilandra’s previous desire for peace. She awakens Ultimus from stasis (in which the Starforce have been kept) and asks him to be her messenger back to the Kree. Ultimus, shown to be more introspective and honorable than the rest of the Starforce, displays his philosophically mature side again here. Despite the positive turn things seem to be taking, Lilandra informs everyone the Nega-Bomb is missing (though we know the Skrulls have it).
Meanwhile, the narrative oscillates back to the home guard, and our confusion over Dr. Minerva is cleared up. The AWC have returned home, since the East Coast Avengers don’t have many prisoners left to watch. We are told the AWC actually let Dr. Minerva go in exchange for her brief assistance in tracking the escaping Shi’ar. It’s a small point, and many may consider it not worth belaboring, but the fact the creative teams did such a good job keeping track of all the little plot/characters strands is a major aspect to the impressiveness of this crossover.
The scene shifts again to the Nega-Bomb. Vision relates to Wonder Man their present status: the Skrulls have hijacked the bomb and are taking it through the stargate into Earth space, reminding us it was this very behavior that brought the Avengers into this dispute in the first place. Returning to the impressive issue connection style that began this crossover, the issue ends with the Shi’ar Avengers preparing to seek out the Nega-Bomb (as most likely indicated on the cover). Quasar calls to tell them he knows where it is, sending us directly to the next installment in Quasar’s own series. Despite the at-first confusing elements of the issue and the initially flimsy excuse for another battle scene, AWC 82 is a great example of characterization utilized well to tell an interesting story, balancing several plot threads and diverse character conflicts in one full issue.
Part Seventeen — Quasar 34, “The Scorched Sun”
Throughout the crossover, various characters have asked whether the needs of one little planet such as Earth outweigh the needs of an entire galaxy. Quasar finally has to answer that question as the Skrull ship attempts to enter Kree space. The Super-Skrull makes a cameo appearance, but Quasar is able to dispose of him quickly. The Skrulls make it a clear choice: either let them tow the Nega-Bomb through the gate or they will blow it up next to Earth. Quasar, thinking he will be able to stop them later, lets them through the gate (essentially failing for the third time to prevent people from using the stargate — the main reason he was left behind in the first place). With this final stargate activity, the sun is in dire straits: things are not looking good for any galaxy.
The sun is about to go nova. The solution comes in an intriguing fashion: Binary — Carol Danvers, former Ms. Marvel, current Shi’ar Starjammer (and apparent moonlighter, so to speak, for the Imperial Guard). As a bridge between the aggressors and the “innocent bystander victims” from Earth, Binary is a fitting and thoroughly clever way to bring a successful conclusion to the impetus for the Avengers’ involvement in the war. Quasar, as Protector of the Universe, does his best to contain and eliminate the deleterious anti-matter sunspots, but he is not powerful enough to do it, even with his Quantum Bands (which, as their name indicates, are only good for interacting with positive matter). In some stunning panels, Binary takes the entirety of the sun’s destruction into herself, saving the solar system through as heroic a sacrifice as the entire crossover has seen. Everyone has talked about sacrifice and heroism and morality and justice — but Binary, one of the most ill-treated characters in the Marvel Universe (by her fellow characters, not the creative teams responsible), has actually done it.
Quasar finally does something successful and rescues Binary before she is completely consumed by the anti-matter. With the sun finally healed, and at least one galaxy saved, Quasar returns Binary to Avengers Headquarters, with Earth none the wiser how close to destruction it had been. At HQ Quasar learns Binary used to be the Avenger Ms. Marvel, so someone has learned something through all this, at least. Grabbing a quick bite for lunch, Quasar heads out to intercept the Nega-Bomb. With everyone racing to intercept the Nega-Bomb, we know it’s going to be an intense conclusion in the penultimate installment. The winds of war are at full blast. The issue feels a little cramped, which is odd, considering it has the fewest characters (other than Wonder Man). The cramped feeling comes, I think, from the rapid conclusion to the Super-Skrull fight and the panels with Her and Epoch seeming almost obligatory more than central to the story. Perhaps had they focused more on Binary’s internal debate it would have been more successful — but it’s still a very good installment of the series, even this late into it. The crossover has lost no momentum even with the several narrative shifts and is only picking up speed heading into the completely predicted but wholly startling conclusion.
Part Eighteen — Wonder Man 9, “Big Decisions”
With time running out, Wonder Man makes the big decision to deactivate the Nega-Bomb (somehow). Vision, however, has other plans. All the intelligent philosophical discussion in the previous issue was lost on Vision: “Logic must prevail over emotion, Wonder Man,” he says. He still is in favor of efficiency. What makes this battle unique in the long series of battles throughout the crossover is it is Avenger vs. Avenger. Vision, driven by his program to protect the Earth, can’t allow Wonder Man to endanger humans even if it means sacrificing the Kree. Wonder Man, having already escape death once, despite not quite being human anymore, will not tolerate such a xenophobic perspective. The concept of death convinces Vision he is not qualified to make this big decision after all, since he cannot die. “Death does seem to be the defining element of human existence. It might be argued that I can never understand the decisions life poses, if I do not know death.” The Homeric spirit is alive and well — maybe that’s why this is such a good crossover.
While Wonder Man and Vision fight through their discussion, the Kree Avengers (minus Captain America) finally track down the Nega-Bomb and assault the Skrull ship towing it. While Hercules and Iron Man lead the assault, the Shi’ar Avengers heave into range. While one group of Skrulls defend their ship from the Avengers, another assault team attacks Vision and Wonder Man inside the heart of the Nega-Bomb, right in front of the Negative Zone core. Their discovery of it is another impressive two-page splash. Vision, going along with Simon’s plan to defuse the bomb, must ward off the Skrull attackers first. Just when it seems as if they are about to succeed … we are treated to one of the most arresting penultimate pages of a comic ever. It is brilliant in its simplicity. (I’m not saying it’s Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony brilliant, but it’s an impressive page in a long crossover filled with impressive pages.)
The final page is likewise stunning. We knew it was coming from the first page of part one, way back in Captain America 398, but when it finally comes … no one is ready for it. No one.
Part Nineteen — Avengers 347, “Empire’s End”
Avengers 347 is an incredible issue, to be sure, but it’s hard to “like” it, if you know what I mean. It’s all about the destruction of the Kree Empire, and the deterioration of Captain America’s faith in the Avengers, himself, and everything for which he has fought his entire life. It’s a devastating issue from beginning to end, and though we have gone perhaps a little overboard on the plot synopses throughout this reflection, we won’t do that here. It’s too powerful an issue to be summarized here. It has almost everything: loss, sacrifice, heroism, vengeance, betrayal, and failure. What it doesn’t have, though, is hope. That comes in the epilogue, Captain America 401.
At the close of the issue, Empress Lilandra arrives, claiming the Kree Empire as her own. Lilandra dismisses Captain America and the Avengers, claiming the stargates by the sun will not be used again and the Shi’ar must pick up the pieces of the war alone. “Return to Earth and leave us to our destiny,” she says.
Fittingly, Captain America is given the final words of the story. It is a lengthy but appropriate response to Lilandra and the incomprehensible events of this final installment:
We wish you luck, Lilandra. You’ve assumed an awesome responsibility. Today you’ve become one of the most powerful beings in the universe. A day in which we witnessed the expression of authority so absolute that the sanctity of life meant nothing before the destiny of empires and the cause of self-righteousness. It’s a story as old and sad as time and one that must end now before there are more Nega-Bombs, more dead. You have a great opportunity to do that … to be powerful enough to cherish life … not destroy it. But you were right about one point, Majestrix…. Things will never be the same.
This penultimate panel as Cap walks away alone while uttering his final sentence is as gut-wrenching a panel you will ever find in comic history (which says a lot more than most of you think it does).
The terse finale brings a variety of responses: the Supreme Intelligence prepares to wait “the fruits of this day. My plan went perfectly … and I can afford to be patient.” It was all part of his plan. Some antagonistic to religion may see it as a vengeful perspective of God, allowing and even orchestrating catastrophic events for some inscrutably selfish master plan, but I see none of those implications here. The Supreme Intelligence is clearly in the wrong, regardless of whether his plan was “successful” or not. Captain America is right, just as Wonder Man was in his own issues earlier: mercy is not subordinate to efficiency. The needs of the many do not outweigh the needs of the few (or the one). It’s a remarkable issue from beginning to end, concluding one of the last of the great crossovers. The final dénouement issues guide us gently through our emotional and intellectual responses to this mighty experience, but Avengers 347 is a fitting conclusion all its own.
Aftermath — Quasar 35-36, “Empire of Dust” and “Soul Cage”
(Admittedly, I did not read these two issues until I began writing this reflection: I did not own them until just recently, thanks in part to the wonders of modern technology and delightful Web sites such as www.newkadia.com and www.comicvine.com. Though both sites have their flaws, I recommend them to anyone who enjoys living and wants to do it correctly.)
Though the first few pages of Captain America 401 take place before this issue, it is probably best to read these first. Quasar 35 picks up from Quasar’s perspective after page six of CA 401, as Quasar, having just resigned from the Avengers (doing what Cap can’t quite do), heads off to begin anew his role as Protector of the Universe. Taking on himself some responsibility for not knowing about the Shi’ar-Kree War in time to do any good, Quasar plans to perform his interstellar role much better by first returning to the Kree and seeing what good he can do for the survivors.
Again instead of a lengthy plot summary, let us say simply, while the two issues are flawed by poor pacing and occasional discordant dialogue from Quasar (who inexplicably finds difficulty dealing with the supernatural), it is an interesting wrap-up to the series. The main focus of these two issues, eventually, is the fate of the billions of Kree who were destroyed by the Nega-Bomb at the climax of the crossover. Quasar fulfills his role as Protector in a most unusual way, bringing peace not to the survivors but to the fallen, finally doing some good (through encouragement, not activity). Inexplicably, Quasar 36, part two of the two-part aftermath, isn’t in the TPB, but it is worth reading.
Epilogue — Captain America 401, “After the Storm”
Back on Earth, all the Avengers (minus the Falcon and U.S. Agent still returning from their side-mission in the previous issue) have gathered again for a somber, heavy-hearted debriefing. In a two-page splash reminiscent of Avengers 345 (when they were dividing up who was going to go where), the Avengers, worn out from both the mission and the debriefing, react with astonishment to Cap’s request for a vote to have him stand down as commander of the Avengers. No one will vote for that. They have just voted against punishing the Avengers for what they did in Avengers 347 (I can’t spoil it), and apparently everyone just wants to forget the whole thing except for Cap. Urging everyone to attend a seminar on “superhuman ethics” that night, Cap dismisses everyone. Quasar catches him on his way out to resign (leading straight into Quasar 35-36), and though Quasar tries to encourage Cap by reminding him of his greatness, Steve Rogers is in no mood for flattery.
Things continue to get worse as Cap learns not only is his girlfriend Rachel is still missing after three weeks, his pilot John Jameson now missing. Even the news his old friend D-Man might still be alive after presumably being killed a year ago can’t cheer him up. After an aside showing some movement in the Crossbones and Diamondback subplot, we see Cap still unable to function effectively in his office. His interior conflict continues to rage: is he a fit leader for the Avengers in this modern world? With heroes like Cable, Wolverine, and the Punisher fighting for good, are his 1940s tactics and values still relevant to the world today? Cap’s faith in himself continues to wane.
As the time for Cap’s seminar approaches, we see a roomful of empty chairs and only the Black Widow, Hawkeye, and the Scarlet Witch ready to listen to Steve. As soon as he walks into the empty hall, we are treated with one of the most telling 3”x1½” panels in comic history: Steve’s stunned eye and face say it all. The three Avengers try to cheer him up with reasons why the others couldn’t make it, but as is always the case, the people who need to be at the meetings are the ones who skip them. Cap walks away again in bitter disappointment, apologizing for wasting their time. Thor barges in hoping he isn’t late (he certainly is one of the group who needed to hear what Cap had to say on ethics), making it worse. The others decide Hawkeye, as one of Steve’s oldest friends, needs to take him out on the town and cheer him up for his own good.
In a humorous scene, Hawkeye convinces Cap to join him, since he won’t take no for an answer. Adding a bit of pathos to the scene, Diamondback calls to say she is fine (though we know she is not), but the Black Widow won’t let Cap be interrupted even to investigate her disappearance, since taking a break from all his worries sure would help a lot. Hawkeye takes him to the Laughing Horse Bar, which somehow happens to be inhabited by a panoply of famous characters as not-so-covert Easter eggs for the attentive reader: Popeye, Groucho, the Addams Family, the real Avengers (John Steed and Emma Peel), Dick Tracy, and quite a few others most of us would need footnotes to understand. Cap unloads his burdens onto Hawkeye, who does his best to rally his spirits using everything from reverse psychology to outright blandishments. It almost seems to be going well until who should show up (in a bar!) but Tony Stark.
Tony and Steve rehash some of their recent conflicts, going back to the Armor Wars and up through the recent decisions in Operation: Galactic Storm. Despite his gruff exterior, Tony admits his desire to regain his friendship with Steve, admitting he’s not as perfect as Steve, which Steve quickly rejects. The two finally come to an amicable end to their rivalry (though we know it will be broken several times over the years, not the least of which during the disassembly of Avengers West Coast and the Marvel Universe Civil War). After this surprisingly positive turn, Cap and Hawkeye return to Avengers headquarters to find Falcon and U.S. Agent have returned with Cap’s old friend Dennis Dunphy. He is so elated he even calls U.S. Agent his pal, much to the Agent’s surprise. Knowing his friends still care for him, despite their professional differences, and they all still respect him, his methods, and his values, Steve Rogers realizes he will get by “with a little help from his friends.” The winds of war, both interstellar and interpersonal, have (for now) come to rest.
Winds of Change
Cap was right: it’s not the same after this. Sure, there were some rather enjoyable crossovers and events (I’m much more a fan of the Infinity Trilogy than most people seem to be) after this, especially the Age of Apocalypse, but by the time we get to the Onslaught era and all the series reboots, things just aren’t what they used to be. The creative teams started to treat the old Avengers and X-Men and Fantastic Four (and the gang) like Iron Man treats Captain America here: yesterday’s news, no longer viable or interesting for a “modern” world. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to treat Steve Rogers the way Tony Stark does, realizing the need not for change but for growth; reconciliation, not rejection/rebooting. The good news is that we can still read the great works themselves, and they are still as meaningful and powerful as they were when they first came out. Read Operation: Galactic Storm. It’s one of the last of the great crossovers. Sometimes late at night, when I’m bathed in the firelight, the moon comes callin’ in a ghostly white, and I recall. I recall where the twenty years went, and, like Steve Rogers (and Ringo) says, it’s gone by just fine with a little help from my friends.
People are the worst. People today actually ask if U2 is still relevant. Based on their three most recent albums alone, it’s quite possible they are more relevant today than ever! Nothing in their output has become outmoded — nothing is dated (other than their hairstyles from the ’80s — but whose hasn’t?). Aung San Suu Kyi has been released from prison, but that doesn’t mean their campaign is yesterday’s news and tomorrow’s discount bin. U2 is one of the few bands with both real staying power and their original lineup still intact after over 30 years of work. Even though it’s possible they may actually be underrated as a whole, and all of their albums deserve continual presence before us, and even though we have just declared their most recent albums as key proof they are still relevant (more so than the question deserves), we should return to their second album, October, for a great example of how they have been relevant since the beginning, in part as well since it foreshadows many of the religious themes and concepts they have maintained throughout their career yet emphasized more overtly in their recent work.
“Gloria”
Few songs since the Enlightenment open an album with a more exultant, joyous mood than “Gloria” opens October. Some perhaps decry October because of the brevity and apparent simplicity of its lyrics. This is in part more understandable than most give the band credit, considering the adverse conditions under which the album was created (documentation of which is widely available and need not be rehashed here). As we have mentioned throughout the musical analytical career of Redeeming Pandora, “brevity and simplicity” are never deterrents to quality. More often, they are assets (if not integral components) to quality. Often the lyrics that seem “simple” are stylistically unadorned because they communicate the powerful passion the lyricist is laying bare for all to experience. (Admittedly, an overwhelming number of songs that look simple and sound simple are, in fact, simple, especially if accompanied by synthesized sounds, but this does not apply to “Gloria” or October … or ever in U2, really.)
“Gloria” is a straightforward mild lamentation of a man admitting before God and us despite his best efforts under his own mortal power he cannot succeed in life in any substantial way apart from God. Nothing he says apart from God is worth uttering or hearing, nothing he owns is worth owning unless it is used for the glory of God. Can anyone find anything wrong with these lyrics? Neither can I. I’m sure we know the Latin portion of the song, Gloria in te Domine / Gloria exultate” roughly translates into English as “Glory in you, Lord / Glory, exalt Him,” such that we are commanded to exalt God. Can one disagree? After the Adam Clayton slap bass solo, the rousing outro is among the best conclusions of any song anyone has ever done. The joyous mood and musical zeal combined with the command to exalt God is certainly rare, especially in what some call Christian musical circles. More often today one is given the impression the only time we are to be joyous is when thinking about what God has done or what we are allowed to enjoy or receive (either now or later), but hardly ever when singing about one’s responsibility or command to exalt God. U2 certainly sets a far more encouraging, positive tone than popular music provides today.
“I Fall Down”
As this article no doubt already intimates, I am incredulous when people cast (erroneous) aspersions upon U2 (an inanely “in” thing to do these days). Some of the unwarranted backlash against October, especially, appears to come in response to this second song, primarily because such people never take the appropriate time and energy to actually understand not only the actual content of the lyrics but actually also the actual meaning of said lyrics. These are the people who assume “faster is better,” and if something cannot be grasped in fifteen-second intervals (or even more tersely), such a concept is not worth grasping at all. History will of a certain categorize these people properly, but we should be observant, intelligent, and courageous enough presently to categorize them in our own day for who and what they are as well: people to whom no serious attention need ever be paid (the 21st-century equivalent of Alexander Pope’s “dunces”).
“I Fall Down” is a much more complex and relevant song than most people, as just indicated, credit it — and its relevance is unfortunately only increasing in potency, as the new Dunces continue to have their way in social, intellectual, political, academic, and aesthetic life. It is not just a raucous lament of one’s inability to actually ambulate to any specific or otherwise location without inevitably and unintentionally plunging into a prostrate position. Indeed, it is a plaintive appeal for solidity of identity and purpose. The parallels to Paul Simon’s “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes” are uncanny (even more so since again no conscious awareness of them was present at the time both albums were selected for this investigation). Julie, the female protagonist of the song, expresses her dissatisfaction with life and her lack of enjoyable progress, pictured well by her acknowledged lack of connection with the natural world. This acknowledgement is made evident in a sort of flashback from her love John, who has apparently found her in some sort of stupor (it is unclear whether Julie has committed suicide or is just unresponsive — even in the nascence of their career, it is highly doubtful U2 would write about a suicide, especially on such an optimistic and otherwise joyful album). John comes to realize through the stark confrontation with Julie’s condition and self-assessment he, too, is not living a life worth living and is making no significant progress — not because life itself is intrinsically meaningless, but because he has heretofore attempted to live life solely in selfish terms, even while in a relationship with Julie. John, too, realizes life must be lived in community and for the benefit of others: when we live life for ourselves, we “fall down” and break ourselves in the attempt to live selfishly. We should be others minded: waking up when others wake up, falling down when others fall down, and living co-mutually. When seen accurately, the lyrics and musical progression of the song cannot be seriously faulted.
“I Threw a Brick Through a Window”
Continuing the theme of the importance of human connectivity and interactivity, “I Threw a Brick Through a Window” is far from what many consider the typical late ’70s-early ’80s Irish music scene dominated by punk rock such as from Bob Geldof’s The Boomtown Rats. It is not about rioting (though Larry Mullen Jr.’s drumming can evoke that somewhat), it is not about civil unrest or destruction of private property – it is about the need to escape isolation, escape individualism, and escape self-centeredness. The narrator has come to a self-realization all he has been doing (most likely for his entire life to this point) is talking to himself, and thus has not heard a word anyone else has said. This metaphorical representation of self-centeredness is just as appropriate today as it was when first offered at the onset of the Big ’80s. Similarly, all his effort, all his walking, has been for naught — his movement he mistook for progress, as so many do; he was so absorbed by self he walked into a window, mistaking it for a mirror (as we sometimes do, preferring to use it to see what we want to see, ourselves, instead of what we should be seeing — God’s creation). When he realizes the mirror is actually a window, he realizes, too, he has been “going nowhere.”
The sparse music of this song adds to its ethereal qualities — the whole thing is mildly reminiscent of Plato’s allegory of the cave in its evocation of sparseness. This sparseness is most evident in the lyrical bridge paralleling Jesus’s words to His disciples so often: “No one is blinder than he who will not see.” Now that he has eyes, he can see his predicament and his need for escape from his isolation and for community. This is a lesson we all need to learn, and the sooner we realize we are responsibility for not being able to “see” the truth of ourselves and our station, the sooner we can begin to live and rejoice.
“Rejoice”
Tempering the possible interpretation individuality is insignificant and only likeminded community is the path to salvation, Bono reminds us sometimes we all serve by standing and waiting. In a world that is tumbling down, and would-be heroes have delusions of grandeur (and some may have divine callings for worldwide significance and change, we should not doubt), the task for universal suffrage or world peace or cessation of hunger is too much for most of us to handle. Likewise, in the abundance of community, the individual and his responsibility to worship God and be who God has called him or her to be can easily be subsumed in the “good intentions” of collectivism. What is our response when the weight of the times confounds our activity and speech, when we don’t know what to do or say? The proper response comes from three of the best lines in the album: “I can’t change the world / But I can change the world in me / If I rejoice.” Sometimes it’s not about changing the external world but rather properly aligning our experience of it (not to indulge in too much subjectivity, mind you) — and the best way to do this is, of course, to rejoice. We don’t rejoice in the state of the world, obviously, and certainly not in our inability to solve its problems as if embracing chaos and diabolical anarchy were an underappreciated value. No, we rejoice in who God is, what He has done, what He will do, that He is in control, and who we are in Him. Authentic leisure indeed.
“Fire”
Continuing the lyrical motif of “falling” (the blending of ideas and lyrics on this album is remarkably insistent — I wonder sometimes if October would have been a lesser album had Bono’s lyrics not been stolen … not to imply God orchestrated a theft or anything … sheer speculation on my part), Bono brings the ideas of accurate self-awareness, inward conversion, and worship to a climax with the seemingly ambiguous “Fire.” The pervasive “fire” is an internal yearning, an irrepressible drive pursue this new life of worship and community while all around him the once-familiar universe tumbles into temporary disorder (while actually realigning properly for the first time in his experience of it). It truly is an unforgettable fire, which U2 elaborates on later in the album of that name (though it is supplemented with the band’s mid-’80s infatuation with American music and experience). I suspect if we took the time and energy to remember that fire we first experienced at our conversions Christianity and life would not seem so dull so frequently. It is a stunning end to the first half of the album, supported again by a sparse musical accompaniment appropriate for the intellectual engagement with the words but jarring to our complacent standards of what pop music should be. October as a whole is an unrelenting rejection of soulless musical and lyrical contrivances without descending into the inanities and banalities of the avant-garde (understood accurately in its derogatory sense).
“Tomorrow”
What was originally side two of the album begins with a much more somber mood. Bono has recounted several times without being aware of it at the time he was composing a song about his mother’s funeral. Melancholy and uncertainty dominate much of the song, both lyrically and musically. The Irish Uilleann pipes add a pathos to the song’s opening, setting the mood brilliantly. Eventually the uncertainty and unfamiliarity with the sorrow, the events of the funeral, the acclimation to loss are replaced by a growing dependency on God and a renewed strength and certainty. Ironically, this comes through questions not answers. “Who broke the window” (perhaps an indirect reference to “I Threw a Brick”?), “who broke down the door? / Who tore the curtain and who was He for?” The sudden transfer from seemingly mundane earthly concerns to the allusive-laden tearing of the curtain grabs the singer’s attention as it does ours. He knows who tore the curtain and how that act of destruction was the greatest act of restoration. It was the same God-Man who “healed the wounds” and “heals the scars.”
The asking of these questions leads not to vocalized answers, as intimated above, but a renewed comprehension of pre-existing understanding, leading to a growing enthusiastic expression of faith in God (a rekindling of the fire of conversion) coupled with a need for personal volitional action: opening the door (since Jesus stands outside knocking) “To the Lamb of God / To the love of He who made / The light to see / He’s coming back, He’s coming back / I believe it / Jesus coming.” If anyone doubted the intent of the album, or U2’s ontology as a “Christian band,” surely this song ends all doubt. Bono knows his mother is not coming back, but he knows Jesus is coming back — and he will be there with his mother again in some imminent tomorrow. Amen.
“October”
The eponymous track is, seemingly, the least representative of the album’s theme and temperament. Even so, it is a fitting transition from “Tomorrow” to “With a Shout,” though it’s possible it would have worked even better before “Tomorrow,” keeping the slower, somber music sections together (but it still works well here, as I said, once the feel of the second half of the album becomes more apparent). The song allows Dave Evans to take a break from his guitar and play the piano in what is certainly an atypical rock song. The piano solo is evocative of the barrenness of October, especially one experienced in Ireland or Iowa or other adjacent lots in the celestial neighborhood. As such, it is hard to describe in plainer terms: it is beautiful in a haunting way, but it does not try to be too beautiful, since it attempts (and attains) a sterility and timelessness reflecting the almost pessimistic lyrics. Initial listenings most likely lead one to suppose the “you” in the final line of the song is addressed to October itself, but taking the album as a whole (supplemented by knowledge of live performances), most likely the “you” is not an autumnal apostrophe but a worshipful address to God. True, October goes on while kingdoms rise and kingdoms fall, but so does God — it is not “Dover Beach,” and though the singer is apathetic toward the bareness of the trees, it is not out of pessimism and a lament about the absence of love in the world: Bono knows the trees will be reclothed in multifarious leaves again. Thus the song is actually quite representative of the album, predominantly in its sparse yet entrancing musical accompaniment and its atmosphere of despair and disillusionment redeemed at the close to one of worship and stability and the promise of future restoration.
“With a Shout (Jerusalem)”
“With a Shout (Jerusalem)” is an energetic complement to the interrogatory methods of renewed worship in “Tomorrow.” The second half of the album shows us to be a call-and-response mode, abetted by the disputatio-like lyrical elements of many of its songs. Having already found sufficient answers to the previous questions, Bono turns to the future with “where do we go from here?” with the only reasonable response considering the direction of the album: “To the side of a hill” where “blood was spilt” for the salvation of mankind — Jerusalem. The fire of worship has been rekindled to the point where not only is he now shouting about it, but also he wants to “go to the foot of the Messiah / To the foot of He who made me see / To the side of a hill where we were still / We were filled with our love.” Do we yearn for that?
“Stranger in a Strange Land”
Having made it to Jerusalem, the complementary tone and mood diminishes to contemporary disappointment combined with an odd disquiet. The title is likewise ambiguous: is the man to whom Bono is referring and singing the stranger? most likely not, since Bono is the one taking pictures, getting on a bus, sleeping on a floor, and writing a letter to a missed loved one — usually not the sort of activities one does in one’s own town or community, especially when joined with the plaintive “I wish you were here” chorus. The presence of the soldier likewise gives us the impression we are in a territory used to hostilities — most likely the Holy Land. It’s not the place now he thought it would be: it’s a strange land full of strangers and streets that are longer than they appear, alluding to the atmosphere of insecurity; even the natives appear to be strangers in a strange land. Most likely the guy about whom Bono is singing is correct: Bono is the one who should run — he doesn’t quite belong here, even with his rekindled fire of worship. It’s not the time, yet. Perhaps it could be applied to us a wayfaring Christians, but I’m not sure that would do credit to the song, even if the sentiment is similar. It’s a mysterious song, indeed.
“Scarlet”
One’s first impression of the song is it should be called “rejoice,” since that is the total of its lyrical output. On further reflection, however, such over-simplicity is beneath U2 even at this early stage in their career. Calling it “Scarlet” adds a momentous weight to the song: we rejoice because our scarlet sins are now turned white as snow. The music helps make this possibly the best song on the album, up there with “Horizons” and “Pretty Donna” — surpassing them, in fact. Delight in it forever.
“Is That All?”
The Edge wakes us from our reverie with a borrowing of the guitar riff from “Cry” (the original composer of the song is allowed to do that). Setting the stage thematically for War, U2 starts the transformation from their languorous worship album to their discontented social awareness album. Bono is not angry at God, but he’s not happy with Him either. What else is there? The questioning album finds time for one more question (repeated several times): “Is that all?” The real intent of the song and the question comes in the single time Bono elaborates: “Is that all You want from me?” Since he is angry, but not angry with God, Bono relates his growing discontent with the world: having seen the dilapidated condition of the Holy Land, he is still rejoicing in who God is, but the fire inside is now vivifying his social awareness — this can’t be all God wants from him. He must be here to do more.
No, It’s Not All
So is U2. 10 albums later (and counting), U2 has continued to be relevant and pertinent and a Christian band for better than most who have claimed those descriptions. Perhaps the lyrics and music of October are not as mature and rich as All That You Can’t Leave Behind, How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, or No Line on the Horizon (or even The Joshua Tree), but U2 made their second, most pressure-filled album a worship album, willing to alienate their new audience at the nascence of their career, overcoming difficulties few other artists have had to endure deserves far more attention and respect than it has received. Even in their perhaps unpolished state, the songs of October are as truly worshipful as any others in the history of music and Christianity. October is a forgotten gem and deserves our musical and spiritual attention.
When this project was first conceived and the list of worthy albums first compiled, I did not consciously associate the albums by any criterion other than my personal desire for them to regain more public consciousness. On further reflection, however, I realized the first three albums are connected in other ways as well: Graceland and Lean Into It both address various musical forms/situations in bayou country, and Collective Soul’s debut album took its name from “You Can Call Me Al” on Graceland. Thus, it is fitting to bring them all to your attention in this issue.
Collective Soul is one of the few ’90s bands with any staying power. This most likely is due to their skill and intellect. Let’s be honest: Collective Soul’s music is beautiful and their lyrics are true — if any other requirement is needed for a band to be great and worth knowing/enjoying again and again, I don’t know of it. Certainly all of Collective Soul’s oeuvre could be considered “forgotten gems,” and possibly their self-titled second album has fallen further in public esteem, but Hints Allegations and Things Left Unsaid should be the beginning place of anyone’s newfound appreciation for one of the few great bands today.
Ye— oop, wait for it … Yeah!
“Shine” is arguably Collective Soul’s biggest hit. Supposedly it was to be their one hit, making them simply another one-hit wonder from the ’90s. Six number one songs later, Collective Soul is still around. “Shine” was my first experience of Collective Soul, hearing it on the radio (which is exactly what they wanted, I must admit). It was one of those songs Neyens and I made our own for a while, going to/from band practice, singing along with the chorus (at least the “yeah”s) whenever it came on over the radio (he was always the one doing the driving, of course — perhaps that’s where my affinity for singing in the car along with the radio/cd arose, bolstered later by the gang’s penchant for Eve 6’s “Inside Out”).
The song itself is straightforward enough: like most contributions to the Collective Soul oeuvre, it’s about love. God created the universe by and out of love, not logic or mathematics. Collective Soul recognizes this far better than most bands publishing under “Christian” labels. The repeated request “Heaven let your light shine down” is true and right and something we should all desire, just as we should all actively pursue the ameliorative effects of Heaven’s light as the final lines enjoin. It’s a great song all around.
Lyrical Genius at Play
I don’t want to step on any toes (especially my father’s) by intimating Ed Roland is in the same conversation of musical geniuses as Brian Wilson, but his lyrical ability is quite adroit, especially as evidenced in this song. “Goodnight, Good Guy” asks very sincere questions from the perspective of genuine faith. It would take quoting the entire lyrics to begin to capture the depths of the song, but for a good sampling peruse the second verse:
I’ll break the bread of a new day and wonder
If faith would carry me along
But days are longer as my heart gets weaker and
I can only stay so strong
Well, I’ll just sit here like a wounded soul
Who’s finding difficult to just let go
Let it go
Pretty powerful stuff, especially when supported by the laid-back musical offerings of the band. It’s a great optimistic song despite (because of?) the questions it asks and the adherence to the divine protection of the Lord. It’s certainly a great song that deserves far more appreciation and recognition than it has heretofore gotten from most music lovers.
A Great Use of Time
“Laid-back” is probably the best description of the entire album, despite the more famous zest from songs such as “Shine” and “Breathe.” Nowhere is that better captured in a rock-n-roll form than “Wasting Time,” almost a misnomer of a song, since it is one of the most catchy, enjoyable, repeat-worthy songs one will ever listen to in one’s lifetime. The mellow introduction breaks out all the Latin Percussion™ instruments most dabblers in percussion own. Added to that comes more pensive, soulful lyrics from Ed Roland that, despite their potential to weigh down in despondency, avoid such a miasma by the song’s (and album’s) ever-present embrace of optimism: “Well something’s going wrong inside of you / Burdens bearing down and seeping through / Well, I don’t wanna bleed anymore for you / Oh and I don’t wanna breathe any hatred too.” The second verse ends with probably my favorite line in the entire Collective Soul oeuvre: “And I don’t want to cling to our ‘used to be’s.” From that great line about, truly, putting off the old self and putting on the new (and now), the song ratchets up the tempo and vocal emphasis with a sincere and loving (in a “tough love” sort of way) enjoinder to all who are unwilling to cast their cares on the Lord and cling to them desperately for comfort to “take your heart, just take your soul / Just get yourself on out of here / Just take your hurt, just take your pain / Just get yourself on out of here,” because clinging to past hurts and failures is simply “wasting time.” It’s time to pick up the pieces (all right) and move on. All of this beauty in under three and one-half minutes. It’s definitely an album worth listening to from beginning to end, again and again.
No Tears Needed
The same theme continues in “Sister Don’t Cry,” though it’s a much more comforting kind of song. The music transforms into more of a funk groove, though only slightly, as the synthesized Hammond organ-like sounds propel the song through its sundry sections. The simple chorus belies the simplicity of its messages: as with “Wasting Time,” genuine life must be lived now; with salvation reigning over us now; we must put aside all the pain we’ve been through (as much as possible) and don’t cry anymore. Life is a communal journal of relationships and co-mutual restoration through shared sorrows and joys. Be not afraid of it; cry when it’s time to cry, but (as we learned so well in Twelfth Night) when it’s time to stop crying, stop crying and live again.
Higher and Higher
Most of the selections on Hints Allegations and Things Left Unsaid are unified songs, making “Love Lifted Me” the most disparate song on the album with three distinct sections. The first and third sections (the verses and the bridge) are among the most strident moments on the album (certainly “Scream” is the harshest). This makes the up-tempo dolce middle section (the chorus) seem out of place, at least at first. With enough repetition, the song leaves one with the impression it all works well together, like another crunchy nutty candy shell and a gooey, nougat-centered treat. It is a variation on “Amazing Grace,” perhaps, but that theme is true enough to hold up under countless reinventions (lazy contemporary adaptations simply attaching a new “praise chorus” to the old lyrics notwithstanding, a despicable practice worthy of excoriation which Roland masterfully avoids): “Once, I was down and couldn’t see / Then love lifted me. / Yeah, love; it was love / Oh I believe, that love lifted me.” True indeed.
Brevity is the Soul of Life
Continuing the pervasive “laid-back” style of the album, “In a Moment” is another impressive display of Ed Roland’s lyrical creativity. Behold the second verse: “Well, it’s a shame our world / Responds to life / As a puzzle in disguise / I wish our course / Would lead us towards / The peace and loving kind.” The first three lines are excellent (forgiving the overly-informal “well”). The secular atheist world around us does indeed consider the world to be a puzzle needing decoding (or deconstructing), but too much of life is inexplicable by scientific means alone as if the real source/truth of life is disguised to us in our present inferior material evolutionary state. Certainly as Christians we know the proper solutions to these confusions, and Roland sings of them quite lucidly: “We’ll never walk hand in hand / Until we let old wounds mend / And we’ll never sing songs as one/ Until we find love.” The entire album is really an interconnected whole; each song leads into the next and builds upon what has come before. Some of the unfounded negativity against the album is the seemingly simplistic lyric content: “In a moment, it could happen / We could wake up and be laughin’ / In a moment, it could happen / We could forgive and be happy.” The truth, especially the truth of the gospel, is linguistically straightforward and simple — and the atheistic world around us is too infatuated with “hard work” to accept this. It’s merely the practical application of the simple truth that is complicated and difficult. Fortunately, though, Collective Soul has already given us the answer: love lifts us while Heaven’s light shines down on us. The redemptive power of Eternal Love only takes a moment to change our lives to enjoy the abundant life we have not just in the life to come but now as well.
Speaking of The Abundant Life…
With the exception of U2 (which is akin to any fantasy discussion beginning with the requisite “with the exception of Tolkien”), no one composes songs about eternity better than Collective Soul does (though Steve Winwood and Three Dog Night come close). “Heaven’s Already Here” is a great example of Collective Soul’s ability to capture what abiding in Christ is about — true, it’s not just about the life to come, but as Jesus makes clear in John 10:10, eternity is not a “yet forthcoming” thing anyway. We are in eternity right now (the notion there are two eternities, one that ended when the universe and Time were created and another that will commence when the events of Revelation occur, is, I think we can all agree, preposterous). The Holy Spirit is within us now — we are, in one very real sense, in Heaven now: at the least, Heaven is in us now. For the first few years of listening to this album and this song, I completely misunderstood what Ed Roland was trying to get us to realize. I thought it was some sort of Cosmic Humanist/Transcendentalist malarkey about the “divine essence of monistic spiritual divinity is within so all we must do is seek there to be in harmony with the metaphysical energy of existence,” which made me quite sad for a while — here was an artistically skillful band with many lyrically moving and cogent points, but smack dab in the middle of the album was this song potentially discrediting their other fantastic works. Finally, though, after taking a pretty decent Sunday school course on “the abundant life,” I was not only reawakened to the truths of John 10:10, but I was also awakened to the Christian verity of this song. Roland is not urging us to commune with the “occult relation between man and the vegetable” as Emerson enjoins us to do in “Nature.” Rather, Roland is reminding us of another simple truth Jesus revealed to us so long ago: “Who could bring me Heaven / When Heaven’s already here?” The brief lyric of the entire song is worth reading through (note the exquisiteness of the second verse — Roland often seems to peak lyrically in the second verse):
v1
Wake up to a new morning
Got my babe by my side
Now I won’t yield to new warnings
’Cause I got my piece of mind.
chorus
Who could bring me Heaven
When Heaven’s already here?
Who could bring me Heaven
When Heaven’s already here?
v2
No more living in darkness
Now that love lights my way
I don’t need any new changes
To make me love today
chorus x2
Combined with the music, this is as about as perfect a song as anyone has ever or could ever compose. But just when you think the album couldn’t possibly get any better…
Beautiful, More Like
“Pretty Donna” is admittedly not a rock song, but one would be hard-pressed to find a song on a rock album more beautiful than this (Genesis’s “Horizons” comes close from Foxtrot, but I think “Pretty Donna” surpasses it — but only just). If you are looking for something sublime for a wedding, look no further. It’s one of those songs that must be experienced to be understood, so listen to it as soon as you can. Again and again for the rest of your life.
The Trilogy
“Reach,” “Breathe,” and “Scream” have always seemed to me to be a thematic trilogy, increasing in volume, tempo, and temper. “Reach” is another great example of early Collective Soul’s simple, laid-back style, providing more thoughtful lyrics from the creative mind of Ed Roland: “Should I thirst for meanin’? / Can I beg you for some water? / Should I fight your battles? / Or can I rest upon your shoulders?” Verse two: “Should I beg for mercy? / Can I be the one you treasure? / Should I question knowledge / Or can I have all of your answers? / Hope I’m able to find love today / Or can I ask you just to light my way?” Without trying to sound redundant, it’s a great song. Those listeners who require more “oomph” in their songs might disapprove of the mellow nature of this delightful song, but Beauty needs not apologize to anyone, especially to those whose aesthetic tastes are in need of refinement (or vivification).
“Breathe” brings back a little bit of the groove from “Sister Don’t Cry,” but neither of these early songs is nearly as funky as selections on later albums in Collective Soul’s career. The lyrics of this ditty are true but most likely the weakest on the album (something has to be). Continuing the thematic importance of love, love is now a seed and a tune: cultivate it and it will grow, and others will join in on the tune. Additionally, love is to be the air we breathe (though this may have the weakest lyrics of the album, this song is far better than Michael W. Smith’s semi-recently popular “Breathe” with barely-similar content). If we breathe love, even in little increments, certainly that will be contagious (in a good way) and help make society what it should become.
“Scream” may be the weakest song on the album (in terms of being the least desirable to listen to again), but only because it is the hardest-pounding song on an album that is mostly, as we keep saying, laid-back and mellow. It doesn’t seem to fit too much (akin to “Bullet the Blue Sky”’s jarring position on The Joshua Tree), but in other ways it is a natural culmination of the recent lyric progression. Though later songs in the Collective Soul canon (especially from Blender) are louder and more driving, the song ties elements of trying to understand life’s questions and answers from “Reach” and needing more room to breathe from “Breathe” to an angry, irritated desire for resolution, bringing the trilogy to a full (and dynamic) conclusion. Even though the beat may perturb, Ed Roland does manage to squeeze in some thoughtful lines: “I don’t want to be some puppet on a string / I don’t want to learn from things you can’t explain / And I don’t want to have your views on everything,” quite similar to W.H. Auden’s point in “The Unknown Citizen.” In the third verse, Roland gets his most cosmically irritated: “Well God is great and God is good / But God you’ll never be.” True, but Roland’s motivation for saying this is unclear, unless he is now confronting pseudo-Christian hypocrisy of the time or perhaps just general atheistic destructive and malfeasant attitudes and actions to what life should really be about: “I don’t want to be your hospitality / I don’t want to live with false reality / See I’m the one obsessed with truth and honesty / I just want to scream.” Most likely we all feel that way (increasingly so) in this dark world and wide as it continues careering away (increasingly so) from Biblical truth toward the morass of diabolical relativism, pragmatism, and Brave New Worldism.
A Double Ending
With all of his ire and energy purgated in the cathartic “Scream,” Roland begins to draw this pristine album to a close with the first of the album’s double-ending songs (another connection to Graceland). I consider it a double ending because either “Burning Bridges” here or the final song, “All,” could serve equally well as the album’s final musical and lyrical offering. The music here is self-explanatorily beautiful and needs no further comment. The sentiment behind the song some obdurate-centered people may find more maudlin than sweet, but the opinions of those people never need be considered. Sentimentality is painfully underrated today. The chorus is especially ideal: “So I’ll lift you up and hold you near / I’ll warm your heart and calm your fears / See I don’t want to lose this love I found / So I’ll burn my bridges, burn them down.” The title might make one presuppose “burning bridges” is a negative thing, since it is so often thought of as a drastic, anti-social event. Here, though, Roland upends our limited perceptions and connotations by presenting “burning bridges” positively: don’t “keep your options open,” people, he says. Commit. John Adams knew it, Ed Roland knows it, God knows it, we should all know it and embrace it. Commitment. Love is a commitment, not a fleeting feeling. The singer hurts when he is not with the one he loves — so do we all. He is willing to change himself to conform to what love requires of him — so should we all. It is a great song — so say we all.
As with so much of this album, the thoughts of one song blend into the next, and that is true for its double conclusion. The solidarity and commitment embraced in “Burning Bridges” continues throughout “All,” especially as evidenced in the chorus: “Yeah, all is all I can give you / All is all I can do / All is all I wish for when I’m with you.” The pervasive laid-back tempo is present again here, as well. The quality of musical accompaniment is a dominant factor in Collective Soul for most of its canon (the electronic-driven Blender is a main exception, but it, too, has some very gentle music at times). Their unique admixture of energy, gentleness, melody, harmony, and intelligent lyrics has dominated the album, and perhaps it reaches an emotional zenith with the bridge of this final song: “Well, I’ll push the clouds away so you can have sunshine / And I’ll give you anything that your heart desires.” With everything else from Collective Soul, it must be heard to truly be understood and appreciated. Fortunately, the time taken to listen to their often under forty-minute albums is time wisely and well spent. You won’t regret it, no matter how many times you do so.
A Double Ending Yields a Double Beginning
By his own admission, most of this debut album was the work of Ed Roland. Though the band restructured the arrangements and performances somewhat for their early touring, and not all of the band members noted on the album may have actually contributed as much as the liner notes intimate, it is certainly fair to say Hints Allegations and Things Left Unsaid is the nascence of Collective Soul’s career. Though the band may consider their self-titled 1995 release their genuine debut album (as a band), and though later sounds and instrumentation of their later work (especially in their electronic phase) are in noticeable ways distinct from this album’s sounds, enough similarities continue and (perhaps inchoately so) tendencies that later return in more mature forms are still extant and evident here: the predominance of one-word-entitled songs, most songs ranging between 3 and 4 minutes in length, Biblical Christian themes and ideas underpinning most lyrics, the impressive mixture of intelligent lyrics and beautiful melodic and harmonic lines, and the cohesion of the entire album as a unified whole more than the sum of its parts. Similar to Genesis’s From Genesis to Revelation and Trespass (as we saw last year), Collective Soul truly does begin at Hints Allegations and Things Left Unsaid. It is truly an enjoyable album from beginning to end, one worth experiencing again and again forever.
In early 1991, one of the few long-lasting rock supergroups released its second album, Lean Into It. That band’s name was (and still is today) Mr. Big. What distinguishes Mr. Big from many bands of its ilk are quality lyrics and quality musicianship. True, conflict and tensions saw one short-term personnel change in the late ’90s and one lengthy hiatus for most of the ’00s, but the original group is back together again (as of this writing) and still putting out more fine work. Though they are much bigger in Japan than in the United States (a sad commentary on American standards), Mr. Big is still a good band worth knowing, even if one is not a fan of guitar shredding and power/hard rock: Mr. Big is hard to quantify, since its sounds and styles are often developing and shifting not just between albums but within albums as well.
As sturdy a powerhouse quartet as we may ever see, Mr. Big was first formed by its most famous member, bass player Billy Sheehan. Well-renowned front man (especially on the Asian circuit) Eric Martin joined shortly thereafter; technical masters Paul Gilbert (guitar) and Pat Torpey (drums, after he finished touring with Robert Plant — you know you’re a great drummer if Neil Peart is impressed by your work) filled out the supergroup.
Their self-titled debut album did not fare too well in America, but their fame in Japan was almost instantaneous. That changed somewhat, as indicated above, with their second album in 1991, Lean Into It, perhaps their tightest, most enjoyable album from beginning to end, and another forgotten gem of recent music history.
Electric Drills in Perfect Harmony
“Daddy, Brother, Lover, Little Boy” is one of those quintessential tongue-in-cheek hair band songs from the late ’80s-early ’90s. True, it gets mildly saucy (just a smidge piquant) at the end of the second verse, but it is mediated well by metaphors and power chords. Despite the lack of seriousness in the lyrical content, the song immediately demonstrates the band’s musical skills. Though this opening number borders on thrashing guitar rock, it’s the fastest song on the album and not really representative of the album’s style — as mentioned above, the style changes frequently. It is the fastest song on the album, but possibly not the loudest/heaviest. Don’t let that dissuade you from the song or the album, though — Mr. Big is not a typical hair band (or post-hair hair band in their later oeuvre); though this song is intentionally lyrically shallow, this does not represent typical Lean Into It (or typical Mr. Big). It is, as said just now, a humorous number designed more to show off their musicality (including Martin’s vocal oomph, if not his range). The highlight is certainly the most unexpected moment of the song: even though the subtitle denotes this as “The Electric Drill Song,” it is not until the brief moment of the harmonious electric drills one understands why it has that title. The feedback of the guitar at the beginning prestidigitates the audience only; the real thing comes as impressively and suddenly as the skill of the band as a whole. All in all, it’s a great, energetic start to the album.
Unexpected Enjambment with Hard Rock Claps
“Alive and Kickin’” is the jauntiest number on the album, which is fitting, since the lyrics enjoin us to “keep [our] love alive and kickin’” throughout. It’s a typical tale: a young guy and gal (experiencing mild regret — “tears in her eyes”) are running away from their families and starting a new life together. Before we get too frustrated or judgmental, though, the girl writes in her goodbye letter to her mother she is running away with her love “Just like you did, momma.” Since her mother did it, clearly it must be acceptable for her to do it; besides, they have “everything [they] own in the trunk and on the roof / And she’s got baby-sitting money in her pocket.” They’ll be fine. What could possibly go wrong when you are driven by love, doing it your way, “Pedal to the metal shooting down the highway”?
The title, and the way it’s sung throughout the song, leads the audience to think both verbs are equal: certainly the final line of the song supports such an interpretation. The verbs, though, are not equal: primarily, we are to keep our love alive; secondarily, we are to keep our love first “kickin’ / Down the door” because “it’s what we’re livin’ for” and second “kickin’ / Down the walls” because “that’s when / Freedom calls.” It’s impressive enjambment, especially since the subordination of the phrases following each “kickin’” is emphasized (in a roundabout fashion) by the diminished vocals: not every band can pull off changing the vocal dynamics partway through a major line of the chorus/song, but Eric Martin and Mr. Big do it well here. Though the “kickin’ / Down the door (then, walls)” lines may seem akin to stereotypical “hair band” lyrics, the final reminder from Martin “kickin’ / Down the walls, that’s when / Freedom calls” is reminiscent of virtually every well-respected, highly-esteemed Romantic poem (and quite a few Symbolist poems, as well) in the last two hundred+ years — it’s much more meaningful than a cursory dismissal of their appearance/style allows. The groovy hand claps accompanying the chorus toward the end of the song maintain the overall fun atmosphere of the album. Though we would not advocate young children (even those “in love”) running away from home and going “Rockin’ side by side,” it’s still a good song to enjoy (especially for vicarious living).
Thirty Is the New Old
Eric Martin tells us “old movies” from the ’60s have a green tint to them in “Green-Tinted Sixties Mind” (considering it was around 1990 — or even earlier — when he wrote that, how would he feel twenty years later, now that he is old?). Perhaps the televisions on the road, especially in Japan, gave him that impression. Today, with the advent of high fidelity, the song may seem dated, but the older the song gets the less time really affects it, strangely enough: it attempts to capture a moment in or attitude of the ’60s, which it does fairly well, despite the at-times goofy lyrics.
The second verse contains some of the best lyrics on the album: “She keeps her memories locked away / But they are always escaping / Neglect won’t make them fade away” — good stuff (and it goes on from there). The overall emphasis of the song comes in the second version of the chorus, belying the verses’ attempts to capture a moment of time: “Gotta face the day / There is no other way / To clear the fog inside your mind / Fill it up with dreams” (and et cetera). Later we are told (it applies to the person first being directly addressed, but it can be extrapolated to all of us) you “Could’ve made it if you tried.” If we want to improve our lives, we should be active about it. This is certainly good advice as well; and, coupled with an appropriate Christian perspective on actively/expectantly waiting on/for the Lord, it is a fine song that transcends its own attempts to chronologically date/freeze itself.
Do Not Adjust Your CD Player
The first time I heard this song I thought my cd player had suddenly malfunctioned: this was possibly Mr. Big’s intention, but that seems more malicious than they otherwise appear to be. We are told by various other sources the song’s title, “CDFF — Lucky This Time,” is so called because the CDFF does precisely what we just thought happened: the cd fast forwards through the song “Addicted to That Rush” from their debut album. Why, I don’t know, but it does sound somewhat interesting (or “cool,” as the kids say). The main song, written by friend of the band Jeff Paris, is superficially a typical hard rock love song, but it soon demonstrates its suitability in the Mr. Big oeuvre with its heart: the lyrics are not about “getting” lucky (as the kids also say) but about “being” lucky — this very may well be the relationship that works out for both of them, says the song. Though she (and, presumably, he) has been hurt by other failed romances before and has thus built “a wall between [her] dreams and the madness,” and though he reaches out his hand to her and she responds by running and hiding away, if she heeds his advice (“Open your heart to mine”) she will not be sorry this time — she will be lucky this time. (This is a dominant theme in Mr. Big’s optimistic output.) The second verse is a shatteringly lucid portrayal of love in the modern world: “No guarantees when you risk your emotion / So you surrender and it all went astray / Bitter and hopeless in your cold isolation / But you my love won’t ever fade away.” (I believe it avoids the triteness others suspect it falls into.) The tone shifts to a very optimistic and encouraging rescue away from the despoiling consequences of isolation: continue to seek out love — preferably in the right location — for though the risk (and sometimes cost) is high, it is not nearly as costly as the alternative.
Not Your Zydeco Kind of Creole
“You get what you pay for / You get what you pray for” is the message of “Voodoo Kiss.” This is a true story and well worth heeding. This song is perhaps the saltiest on the album, not because the lyrics are bad, but because it implies a few situations in which most decent citizens probably would not want to find themselves (“A touch of the sweet and nasty” indeed). This is the dark and seamy side of Creole Cajun territory, in contrast to the pleasant and socially acceptable side from Graceland. Most people will want to eschew such territory (all people should, but some people — those in the kingdom of darkness — delight in those places/things). Because it is genuinely talking about some dark and dangerous activities, some people might find the tone of the song too light to be acceptable, as if the spryness of the number trivializes the evil/inappropriateness being recounted here. That is certainly a fair point. The same could be made for the movie version of Live and Let Die, in which Roger Moore’s James Bond does not take the voodoo accoutrements too seriously (in contrast to Ian Fleming’s novel, in which Bond takes most of it quite seriously). We should, indeed, never delight in representations of what is sinister or evil, especially ones that trivialize or denigrate their reality or seriousness (as has been addressed in earlier Redeeming Pandora articles). However, we should not preclude the possibility Eric Martin is creating a persona for this song: instead of intimating he himself (or any otherwise fine upstanding citizen) has had and is currently craving such sordid and mystical experiences masquerading as sensually salubrious situations, he is, rather, telling a rhetorically distant story from the perspective of a persona, and thus indirectly didacticizing about the true dangers concomitant with such a deleterious lifestyle or habit. As fun as the song makes it sound, we are, in fact, being warned against it, in much the same way C.S. Lewis styled The Screwtape Letters. I tend to favor the later interpretation, though I do not seek this song out for repeated listenings separate from entire album digestments.
The Way it Ought to Be
As great as the final song is, “Never Say Never” has possibly become my favorite song on the album. It is the best-paced song of the bunch — not as frenetic as “Daddy, Brother, Lover, Little Boy,” not as off-kilter as “Voodoo Kiss” or “Road to Ruin,” not as jaunty as “Alive and Kickin’” — all good songs, of course, but “Never Say Never” achieves the best driving tempo for the message involved. The opening few measures re-hone the hard edge of the album without devolving into overly raucous noise and cacophony. Some may object to the lyrics of this song not because they are inappropriate but because they may come across as trite and typical for “love songs from guys with big hair.” Admittedly, the song utilizes many of the popular tropes of interpersonal communication popularized in ballads and whatnot from time immemorial — what’s wrong with that? Nothing. The song uses what is familiar in a pleasing, satisfying way; sometimes, that’s exactly what we want from a song, especially one so optimistic as this. Additionally, it moves significantly beyond merely the ordinary with the harder edge from the rhythm section and Eric Martin’s vocalizations. Then, the end: the powerful ending of univocal “oohs,” which does not sound nearly as impressive here as it comes through in the song, is a surprisingly energizing conclusion to the fast-paced (but not too fast-paced) rock song, making it from beginning to end one of the better constructed rock songs of the ’90s, if not of all time.
One Part Sour, Two Parts Sweet
As its title indicates, “Just Take My Heart” is the sad break-up song of the album, typical of that sub-genre of hard rock to which Mr. Big sometimes ascribes (but more often transcends, as this article has attempted to posit). Like most other songs on Lean Into It, I would suggest the combination of soulful guitar work and sincere lyrical presentation surpasses the typical: “Where is our yesterday / You and I could use it right now” — golden. Certainly we are not in favor of broken relationships, or ones in which either or both might find themselves unable to sleep late at night “Wondering why so many questions have no answers” or “searching for the reason why we went wrong” — but, sometimes, listening to and living vicariously through such pathos in a quality song like this helps us better frame our own experiences and self-awareness, assisting our own introspection and relationship assessments. We all get in that mood, even if our lives are going fairly well on the whole, in which we want to listen to a sad song (just as we find ourselves at times watching a sad movie or perhaps reading a tragic classical or Shakespearean play). “Just take my heart when you go / I don’t have a need for it anymore / I’ll always love you, but you’re too hard to hold / Just take my heart when you go” — with a chorus like that, you know it will get the job done. Don’t overindulge in the sorrow, of course, but we could all certainly benefit (in that sort of cathartic way) from adding “Never Say Never” to the short list of such quality experiences (or simply enjoying the musicality of it in its own right, whichever).
Picture Perfect, Song Imperfect
“My Kinda Woman” is a decent number, sure. It starts out quite well, nice and strong, but then it fades and sort of hangs on for a while. Let’s be honest, every album has its weak link: “Baby Be Mine,” “Oh Daddy,” “Red Hill Mining Town” (and calling these songs “weak links” is admittedly a bit of a stretch, since they come from close to perfect albums). “My Kinda Woman” is Lean Into It’s weak link. Let’s not get upset: I’m not declaring Lean Into It is in the same league as Thriller, Rumours, and The Joshua Tree. It’s a very good album, true, and a forgotten gem from the early ’90s, but I’m not saying that. All I’m saying is “My Kinda Woman” is, according to my sound judgment, the weakest song on the album. It’s not terrible — as mentioned above, the opening bars are good and strong. The message is also not terrible: a guy laments a lost love who, unfortunately for him, was a silver screen actress from 1946. The song is not explicit as to which one, but certainly many potential candidates exist: Rosalind Russell, Rita Hayworth, Myrna Loy, Lana Turner, Jane Wyman, Gene Tierney, Ingrid Bergman, Olivia de Havilland, Dorothy Lamour, Judy Garland, Anne Baxter, Donna Reed, Ava Gardner, Jean Simmons, Lillian Gish, Irene Dunne, Jennifer Jones, Gina Lollabrigida, Marjorie Reynolds, Loretta Young — no wonderthe singer wants to go back to that time! True, not all of them played femme fatales,but so what? Now that I think about it, the singer actually has a really good idea considering the age of great movies (true, we’d have to endure the ’60s again, I suppose — maybe we should just get and enjoy the dvds). Feel free to disagree with me (about the stars of 1946, my estimation of “My Kinda Woman” as the weakest track on the album, or the wink leaks of those aforementioned albums) once you listen to the album — we at Redeeming Pandora are always open to reproof, emendation, and/or positive reinforcement from our fan base.
A Little Too Saucy in Oklahoma City
Well … actually, this (“A Little Too Loose”) might be the sauciest song on the album, again, fortunately, mediated somewhat through metaphors and other figures of thought and speech. Not that I’m excusing this song or its message — though at least the message is another warning against such life decisions. If you ever become a famous rock ’n’ roller and tour long and hard on the road, don’t betray the girl or guy you have back home. The song is salvaged, at least in a musical sense, by the variety of musical tempos and sections. That the most enjoyable musical section of this song accompanies the sauciest lyrics of the song … well, that’s just one of those things. It can’t be helped, really.
The Road More Travelled
The penultimate song on this forgotten gem of an album, “Road to Ruin,” is a more socially-acceptable version of the previous song. The message is essentially the same, completing the trilogy of “don’t do this yourself” songs about the dangers and disastrous consequences of fraternizing with debauched women. It’s the most rock-edged and rock-tempoed song of the trilogy, as evidenced by the musical accompaniment once it gets started. The near-a cappella introduction is another fresh entry on the album, belying any notion all Mr. Big songs are alike. Once the rhythm section is fully engaged in the song, it takes off at a good pace, complementing the straightforward (yet still highly figurative) lyrics appropriately. It probably won’t be your favorite track on the album, but it most likely won’t be your least favorite (not the greatest praise for the song, true, but it’s one of those kind songs: better than average but not superlative). Again, if you disagree, all to the good.
This is Where We Came In
“To Be With You,” the closing track on the album, is most likely where you first (and perhaps only) experienced the musical styling of Mr. Big. Such was my experience: I heard “To Be With You” on the radio, thought it was a very good (perhaps even great) song, and acquired the album (by asking my dad to buy it for me, along with AC/DC’s Back in Black, the first two cds I ever owned, actually). Though I believe I have come to enjoy “Never Say Never” even more (as indicated above), this is still a good and worthy candidate for everyone’s favorite Mr. Big song. It’s not one of those “famous for being famous” things people sometimes rebel against (like La Gioconda and Hamlet sometimes are considered, erroneously by feckless wastrels) — it truly deserves to be enjoyed and appreciated. Admittedly, the line “Waited on a line of greens and blues” is thoroughly inscrutable and most likely intentionally inane, but that’s fine. The rest of it congeals (in a good way) into a worthy hit song. Some criticism takes the tack the song is about an overly-dated girl being sought after by a desperately patient (and inexperienced) guy who doesn’t fully understand love (“A broken heart can’t be that bad”) — this is a cynical, malevolent interpretation worth no further attention. As with many songs written for fun and lighthearted delight, the sentiment behind the lyrics is more important than the diction and denotations utilized. The fact a group of hard-edged long-haired rock ’n’ rollers can also enjoy playing this laid back acoustic ditty should convince us all of its truth and beauty. Enjoy. Again and again.
Hard Rock Zero (Caffeine Still Included)
Mr. Big is a good band to enjoy for those interested in harder-edged music that does not indulge in grotesque display or cacophonous “musical” demonstration. Some may find it still too rough, but underneath that rough exterior is a gooey, nougatey goodness of genuine heart and musicality. They are worth knowing, and their second album, Lean Into It, is a great place to start — though it is their best, most replete album, it can also be a viable starting point for another new favored band. Get the whole set and, again, enjoy.
After delighting ourselves so long last year in our trek through the Gabriel years of Genesis, the time has come to survey a more diverse field by recalling to mind the merits of many worthwhile and enjoyable albums that have, for no good or explicable reason, fallen out of contemporary consciousness and appreciation. Perhaps it is because of the current fascination with whatever is (pretending to be) new and now, though that argument is used with every generation as its tastes and fads begin to override the tastes and fads of the previous generation. Whatever the cause, these albums are not as appreciated and enjoyed as much as they should be, so we shall attempt to rectify that here. I make no promises the format you see depicted here will be followed throughout the entirety of the series: let’s just enjoy.
Graceland
Paul Simon’s 1986 release is his most successful album since his post-Garfunkel, post-’70s initial solo success. Not to disparage the successes of Rhythm of the Saints and So Beautiful or So What, Graceland is the apex of Simon’s late career. Utilizing several musical styles, Graceland is also noted for bringing to mainstream American popularity the musical stylings of Ladysmith Black Mambazo known as isicathamiya, despite the tensions of South African apartheid at the time.
An inexplicable backlash against the album has arisen recently, though none of the sources for it are credible or worth any investment of our time. Admittedly, some call that a “blanket statement,” but it is accurate enough for our purposes. Others may consider the album too atypical to qualify as “real” Paul Simon, but considering Paul Simon is such a talented, diverse artist who continually reinvents himself and his style(s), calling Graceland a commercial sell-out or other such nonsense demonstrates a misunderstanding both of Simon as an artist and what the album intrinsically is: a successful amalgam of diverse world music and attitudes. In light of the 25th anniversary of the album (and a special tour upon which Simon soon plans to embark, recently announced during the writing of this article), let us reminisce (or experience for the first time) about that somewhat-forgotten gem.
“These Are the Days of Miracle and Wonder”
“The Boy in the Bubble” sets the tone for the world music kaleidoscope of Graceland. The mixture of instruments and meter is unlike most mainstream albums of the time, quite unlike the popular synthesizer strains dominating the scene. The despondent lyrics, though, betray the bouncy, up-tempo rhythms. The comforting message of the chorus (“And don’t cry baby, don’t cry / Don’t cry”) is not substantiated by any true source of hope. We are not certain where the miracles and wonders come from, especially in contrast to the pervasive militaristic and technological destructions abounding. Even the celestial natural world, the signs of the stars, is just a series of constellations “dying in the corner of the sky.” Perhaps the most frightening aspect of the song is the prognostication of the digital revolution: “Staccato signals of constant information,” ten years before the mainstream popularization of the Internet, fifteen-some years before “Information Technology” majors, and the downloading overload of today. Even so, Simon insists we be comforted during these uncertain times. Miracles and wonders exist — don’t cry. It’s easy to listen to him, especially since it is good advice; of course, coupled with a Christian understanding of hope, faith, and reality, it becomes great advice.
“We all will be received / In Graceland”
The eponymous second track continues the up-tempo movement of the album paradoxically supporting lyrics of loss, heartache, and discontentment. The most noted element of the song is Simon’s obvious dual-layering of the lyrics: Graceland is, of course, at once the final resting place of Elvis Presley and a kind of kenning for Heaven (the propinquity of the poor and pilgrims also on a journey to Graceland makes this dualism self-evident). Various sources remind us Simon’s short-lived marriage to Carrie Fisher is the main primary inspiration for the lyrics of this song, the most heartrending lines being “losing love / Is like a window in your heart / Everybody sees you’re blown apart / Everybody sees (later, feels) the wind blow.” Divorce, no matter how amicable, is an irreparable rending of hearts and lives, and it’s never just about the two people most directly involved. And no matter how jaunty the musical accompaniment, it’s always “ghosts and empty sockets.” Unlike the first track, though, Simon has a substantial locus for possible restoration (if not mild amelioration): not only will he and his son be received in Graceland, but all of us (Christians) will be received in Graceland (the one not in Tennessee). His uncertainty whether he’ll have to “defend / Every love, every ending” or if he can leave the past where it is because “there’s no obligations now,” the most ambiguous lines in the song, come too late to be too central to the thought. The point is restoration and resolution are attainable (but not in the Mississippi delta).
“Who am I / To blow against the wind”
After the first two serious numbers covertly couched under sprightly melodies, Simon changes the lyrical pace drastically in “I Know What I Know” to what could best be described as the “sherry party” mentality and dialogue Harry Blamires excoriates in The Christian Mind. The main conflict of individuality struggling against inane conformity and social scene status is self-explanatory throughout the three verses and chorus. The whooping-call (and other vocal sounds) outro is confusingly appropriate for the song. The flowing lyrical content, especially the style and ease with which Simon sings this number, makes it, in an odd way, almost quintessential Paul Simon: there is nothing there, but he makes it something deep and casual and impressive (in his innate vocal way as only he can).
“Breakdowns come / And breakdowns go”
Simon continues the transition away from profundity in the human condition with a song more in the declamation mode (à la Rex Harrison) than actual singing throughout “Gumboots.” This is appropriate, though, since the song is another series of brief dialogue interchanges supplemented by near-philosophical introspective self-assessments by the narrator of the song. The musical accompaniment is supported by the actual gumboot style of dancing (isicathulo) from South Africa, similarly appropriate considering the song itself as well as the overall purposes of the album. This, then, makes one pause: considering the gumboots dance itself is in part a subversive rebellion against colonial suppression in South Africa, Simon, then, may be meaning more than he lets on with the seemingly-simple lyrics. “You don’t feel you could love me but I feel you could” must be some secret insight into the phenomenological substructure of metaphysical reality. Though, considering how intelligent Simon is, he probably knows we would assume he meant something of that nature with this song, and thus would counter with actually unassuming and genuinely unpretentious lyrics. But, knowing that we would know that he knows that we know that he knows….
“Ta na na na / Ta na na na na”
“Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes” is a bit tricky, at least for anyone not thoroughly familiar with the Zulu language and local customs of South African life, which describes me well. Cursory research indicates possibly the opening Zulu preface is a lighthearted introduction (matching the musical beat correctly this time) about love (or something like it, perhaps) approaching along with the approaching girls. We see how it happens, they say, too. Simon continues the thought in English, focusing on one rich girl who “don’t try to hide it,” prominently displaying her diamonds on the soles of her shoes (one of the key tensions of the song, since if she were flaunting her wealth it makes little sense it would be on the part of her attire no one would really ever see unless briefly while she is in motion).
Her travelling companion is, in contrast, a poor boy “[e]mpty as a pocket,” a great line, “Empty as a pocket with nothing to lose.” Despite her apparent and flaunted wealth, she is suffering from some sort of depression (“Walking blues”) and loneliness (her poor boyfriend has been “taken [her] for granted” because of her wealth). Some interpreters believe she is actually the intellectually honest member of the pair, since she is not really flaunting her wealth in a braggadocious way, just as a simple expression of who she is and her financial status. He, however, is the superficial one only with her because she has wealth and merely wants to be seen with a wealthy companion. He is the one who feels compelled “To compensate for his ordinary shoes” with after-shave and a new shirt. Their internal sentiments and soul-dispositions are fundamentally misaligned, as evidenced by the most ambiguous English lines of the song “She makes the sign of a teaspoon / He makes the sign of a wave.” Many theories exist behind the meaning of these strange symbols; the most sensible is the “sign of a teaspoon” is a taxi direction indicating one wants to go downtown; the “sign of the wave” is the opposite direction toward the coast — thus, the couple are headed in two different directions in life.
Somehow, though, they get together and both end up with diamonds on the soles of their shoes (even though she wanted to go dancing but they ended up “sleeping / In a doorway / By the bodegas and the lights on / Upper Broadway”). Most likely she came down to his level, like all Shakespearean heroines eventually must in the end. Simon’s/the narrator’s response to this indicates the progression of love in a positive way, at least. Before, no one really knew what he was talking about, but now everybody here knows what he is talking about: he’s talking about diamonds. Now, he, too, has diamonds on the soles of his shoes. Apparently, we should all embrace this sort of carefree life of love and acquiesce — be who you are, not who you ought to be (there is some Shakespearean truth in that, too, but it must also be tempered with a Christian perspective — and, if done accurately that way, it also becomes genuinely excellent advice).
“I want a shot at redemption”
Perhaps best known for the Chevy Chase-driven music video, “You Can Call Me Al” is the most big-band sounding song on the album. The beat and palindromic slap bass solo especially always reminds me of Seinfeld (which is appropriate, since the show was, like the album, superficially about nothing yet always doing more than just being mindless entertainment). The suspicious nature of Simon’s lyrical self-effacing pseudo-inanity reaches the album’s high-water mark here as well. Combining a mid-life crisis of introspection with more “sherry party” misidentifications (though, considering it is Los Angeles, probably something a bit stronger than sherry), the song is mostly self-explanatory despite the repetitious attempts at confusing banality (though these are also for musical emphasis).
The most intriguing part is the final verse:
A man walks down the street,
It’s a street in a strange world.
Maybe it’s the Third World.
Maybe it’s his first time around.
He doesn’t speak the language,
He holds no currency.
He is a foreign man,
He is surrounded by the sound, sound …
Cattle in the marketplace.
Scatterlings and orphanages.
He looks around, around …
He sees angels in the architecture,
Spinning in infinity,
He says, “Amen!” and “Hallelujah!”
The verse is a microcosm of the album as a whole, as it mixes in seemingly uncertain yet successful (almost miraculous) ways the cultural mainstream and ethnically diverse. In the Third World, we, who are acculturated to, well, Western Culture, are the foreigners who don’t speak the language and have no currency and easily get lost walking down the streets (most likely because they have no names). This is to our detriment, though; we should be more familiar with isicathamiya and isicathulo; we should realize as this stranger in a strange land soon does God operates in other parts of the world as well — there are “angels in the architecture” outside of D.C. and the Vatican, and the sooner we realize that we, too, will be saying “Amen!” and “Hallelujah!” I do not read any satire in this final verse. Even if it is the same man in all verses, who is clearly going through a mid-life existential crisis and, like Odysseus during his wanderings, is engaging in morally suspect activities, the fact he comes to some genuinely true revelations at the end and, perhaps, a more sincere realization of the need for and source of the “shot at redemption” is not diminished by that (nor am I encouraging it as an acceptable road to travel, of course, but if the destination is correct, that should be hurrahed).
“This is the story of how we begin to remember”
“Under African Skies” was probably my least favorite track growing up, but now that I am older and, hopefully, somewhat more mature, I realize now this track is likely the most important song on the album. Some may disagree, in part since it is somewhat buried halfway through the second side (or second half of the cd) of the album. I used to think the Joseph of the song was the Joseph, i.e., Mary’s husband who went to Bethlehem for Augustus’ census, but that is probably inaccurate. The essential truths of the song, that we are connected and all, in fact, sons of Abraham, are incontrovertible and need no further comment. The mythic emphasis on rhythm and memory and love and community make this a much better song than I used to think it was, since it is one of the few songs to take itself seriously throughout its almost too-short duration.
“Somebody cry, ‘why, why, why?’”
Again, my ignorance of the linguistic intricacies of the Zulu language bows to various sources: the introduction denotes something to the effect of “On the cliffs — hey mister, we sleep on the cliffs.” This explains why the first English section of the song repeats the eponymous notion of the singers being “homeless” — and even the moon is without a home, since it sleeps on the midnight lake. The second Zulu section of the number reads, effectively, “My heart, my heart, my heart — the cold has already killed me.” The second English passage, “Strong wind destroy our home / Many dead, tonight it could be you,” is, too, self-explanatory. The next Zulu section (after the likewise self-explanatory “somebody say/sing/cry” interlude) shifts the tone and mood quite a bit (for those who understand Zulu) — no longer is the lyric a melancholy lament but now is a joyful triumph: “We are the champions/winners/victors. We defeated the whole nation. We were victorious in England.” One gets the sense of “he who always wins” in this section, not just a past victory but now a present state of success, supremacy, and, perhaps, freedom (depending on how political the song is). The final epilogue is a similar expression of newfound success that must be shared and celebrated: Kuluman / Kulumani, kulumani sizwei ≈ “Talk, talk (plural indicating more than two people) so we can hear.” Singenze njani ≈ “What can we do?” Bayajabula abasithandayo / Ho ≈ “They are happy/rejoicing, those that love us.” No doubt this barely captures the essence of what this song is about, and certainly a dry, faulty translation of the language comes nowhere close to capturing the exquisite experience of this song. Musically, it is a great song, even if one does not know what the words mean. This little paragraph does not do the number any version of justice, so go listen to this song yourself, especially if you haven’t yet heard any of this album. You will be glad you did.
“I don’t want no part of this crazy love”
The album starts to return to its beginnings with “Crazy Love, Vol. II,” the bitterest song on the album (again mismatched with the positive music). The characters exemplify the lack of gravitas in this one immediately. The song may be working on multiple levels like so many of the other selections on this album, but the pervasive apathy and rejection of discourse, relationship, love, and affection throughout the song make any attempt at finding another level or subtext for the lyrics daunting and ultimately fruitless. If the lyrics are about contemporary society (and I see no reason why they shouldn’t be), the overt contempt for listless culture and its unwillingness to commit to anything (marriage, love, personal health, even communication and opinion-holding at all) come through essentially from the downbeat, hover around for four cumbersome minutes, and finally fade away. The music of the chorus attempts to vitalize the song/society, but all momentum is drained by the verses. I realize this sounds like I think it’s a bad song — I don’t mean to imply that, so please don’t infer that. Clearly Simon is making divorce, apathy, and the pervasive melancholy of the evening news out to be bad things, and the song as a whole as a clarion call for us to change our own existences is a true message and worth heeding — but it’s almost too lethargic a clarion call to fully reach its potential. Simon’s musical diversity and ability shine through, though, despite this being the weakest link on the album (the overriding tone is perhaps its deepest flaw; this, and not the dominance of techno beats, is also why Pop is U2’s weakest album — a story for another time), and it really shouldn’t be skipped over during any listen-through of the album as a whole.
“If that’s my prayer book / Lord let us pray”
“That Was Your Mother” is the successful version of what “Crazy Love, Vol. II” failed to be: a peppy, satirical commentary on contemporary mores, seasoned with just enough homage to regional American music to avoid the (unfounded and erroneous) accusations of tendentious pretention Rattle and Hum suffered two years later.
Keeping the narrator straight in this one is likewise a bit tricky, since the opening verses intimate the speaker/singer (again Simon is declaiming more than singing here) is a father talking to his son in a slightly repulsively antagonistic way (“You are the burden of my generation / I sure do love you / But let’s get that straight” — is that really love?). He tells the boy about the good times back before he was married and a father (“When life was great”) — not the nicest thing for a father to tell his son. The father, a travelling salesman proving all the limericks and folktales about them true, prowls the street, eyeing the Louisiana “Cajun girls / Dancing to zydeco.”
Continuing the world music panoply of the album, the musical accompaniment of this song indeed utilizes a zydeco-like sound. For those who don’t know, zydeco is a French Creole sound driven by accordion and washboard, often up-tempo (like this number), with a smattering of blues and rhythm & blues. Simon even namedrops the “King of the Bayou,” Clifton Chenier, whose shadow dominated the scene (and still may, as far as I know, even though Chenier died about a year after Graceland was released).
The man gets what he wants: a beautiful young dancing girl comes up to him, they go out for some red wine and dancing, and eventually they get married and have the son. The tricky part comes in the final stanza: I take it the new narrator is the boy, now grown up — and he is doing exactly what his father did years before: “standing on the corner of Lafayette / Across the street from The Public / Heading down to the Lone Star Café / Maybe get a little conversation / Drink a little red wine / Standing in the shadow of Clifton Chenier / Dancing the night away.” Either the father’s antagonism has not meant much to him and he is off living his own life, or the antagonism has stuck with him and he has become a mirror image of his father — but again, the musical accompaniment is too celebratory for the song to truly indulge in excessive negativity and unbreakable filial patterns of despondency. Simon is not that hypocritical. The joyous zydeco beats bring the song and the album to an enjoyable and satisfactory finish. Until …
“That’s why we must learn to live alone”
Graceland is one of those odd double-ending albums, like Līve’s Throwing Copper and The Black Crowes’ Shake Your Money Maker. “All Around the World or The Myth of Fingerprints” is somewhat anti-climactic lyrically, since it returns to more of the pessimism that flawed “Crazy Love, Vol. II.,” but the music returns the sounds to the more “world music” focus dominating the whole album. The pessimism is not as strong here, but the message is one of subtle indirection: the former talk-show host (emphasis on “former”) has made a critical error and declared fingerprints are some sort of myth (they are all the same). This is an utterly bemusing way to end the album, since the album seems to be showcasing and highlighting various acts and genres from all around the world (from the Everly Brothers to Linda Ronstadt to Ladysmith Black Mambazo) with the intent of showing us that though we are all superficially different, we should embrace our differences and see the unity and importance of all of us as significant human beings with similar concerns, hopes, and dreams (though it never gets as sappy as this line makes it sound). Why Simon ends with the (insincere) line “that’s why we must learn to live alone” from the perspective of the washed-up former talk-show host who mistakenly thought fingerprints are myths is typical mature Simon: inscrutability. (From a Christian perspective, though, there is some truth in it — though we are made for community, genuine leisure, as we know, is about our individual, solitary, intellectual pursuit of God and truth, worshipping Him alone. We must learn to worship God by ourselves before we can accurately worship Him corporately.)
The slightly more comprehensible middle verse, about the former army post long-since abandoned in the Indian Ocean, adds a covert cynicism to this closing number: wars are fought because people refuse to understand we are more alike than different, and if we realize and accept this, we can spend our energies celebrating mankind and its diversities instead of slaughtering each other over them. Like Mark Antony saying “Brutus is an honorable man,” we know clearly when Simon sings “there’s no doubt about it,” we should believe the opposite of what comes next. We should not learn to live alone: we should learn to live together (though, as just mentioned above, we must learn how to live both ways as Christians). It’s an odd way to end the album, with more misdirection than is present in the rest of the songs, but it is musically and thematically a fitting conclusion to a great album, one of the forgotten gems of recent musical history.
Listen to it and enjoy it. Trust me: you’ll like it.
In September of 1963, the hardworking creative team of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby followed up their tremendously successful Fantastic Four with their latest two modern-age heroic teams: the Avengers, a gathering of adult, costumed, science-powered heroes (and the god of thunder), many of whom had been recently introduced in the long-running anthology series Tales of Suspense, Tales to Astonish, and Journey into Mystery; and the X-Men, a gathering of genetically-mutated teenagers banded together with the common goal of creating a world in which humans (homo sapiens) and mutants (homo superior) could live in peace and harmony. With these releases, the modern (now known as the Silver Age) Marvel Comics Group was born, and the world of comics was changed forever. Shortly thereafter, the Marvel universe we know today (generally speaking) came into existence: Dr. Strange, Daredevil, Nick Fury, and, of course, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man (not to mention all the villains). The ’60s were certainly a remarkably fecund time for creativity, and I certainly wouldn’t want to disparage the talents of any of these world-changing men … but sometimes Stan Lee’s writing gets a bit silly. The preponderance of exclamation marks, especially, is noticeably embarrassing, as well as the Bullpen’s unwillingness to take their own work seriously (at least as evidenced by the letters columns in so many early issues of these series — though it is certain Lee, Ditko, Kirby, Rosen, and the gang did take their work seriously, their overly-self-effacing tone is irritating at best). Without giving away too many plot spoilers, below is a collection of reviews for the first nineteen issues of the X-Men canon, written by me mostly this past summer when the sun was shining and the birds were singing and I was delighting in staying inside reading comic books.
1) “X-Men”
Little remains to be said about this issue that hasn’t been said several times in several ways. One thing that stood out to me when re-reading this was the meticulous precision Xavier requires: three seconds for this, three seconds for that. I suppose that is a good tactic, but their training sessions in the first few issues seem so brief it’s hard to tell when they actually do their real training (in between issues/major battles, most likely). Another noteworthy element is their teenage antics and rivalries. It’s easy to forget after so many decades’ worth of issues and stories they started out as petulant, hormone-driven, brash neophytes. Bobby Drake, in his snowman form, plays the class clown well; his antagonism with Warren is intriguing, almost as much as his disinterest in Jean’s arrival. Warren is as overconfident as the rest, despite the fact all they’ve done is train in Xavier’s study (not even the basement, let alone called the Danger Room yet). Hank is not yet the mathematical/scientific genius he becomes soon — he is just a muscle-bound gruff who takes no orders from “Slim” Summers. They really are not a team at this point. We do not yet know how long they have been doing this, but it must have been some time — even though Jean is thrown into combat with Magneto on her first day at the school! The cockiness of the X-Men combined with Xavier’s willingness to just send them against Magneto makes for an odd beginning point on reflection, but there is none of Xavier and Magneto’s backstory here, not yet. Xavier knows there are evil mutants in the world, but we don’t know how he knows this yet.
Perhaps the oddest thing is the army’s appreciation for what the X-Men do — no real antagonism for the X-Men here (though maybe they weren’t paying attention and don’t think the X-Men are mutants). It is quite telling reading this so close to having read Graphic Novel #4 and the premiere of the New Mutants — despite the team’s success against Magneto, Xavier’s reticence to let the New Mutants combat evil mutants makes this original mission of the real first class of X-Men almost foolhardy. Other little details make this more quaint than anything else: Xavier’s Rolls Royce, the mind-powered airplane, Magneto’s Wicked Witch of the West impersonation with the message in the sky, Cyclops’s slicing through Magneto’s magnetic waves — strange, in retrospect. At least “The Dream” of humans and mutants living in harmony is there from the beginning. We shouldn’t expect fifty years of accretions and connections to be there from the premiere. Another positive is the absence of clear origins allows for more detailed character development later on. It’s a decently good start, all in all.
2) “No One Can Stop the Vanisher”
Somehow, not only have the X-Men gained some sort of notoriety in New York for fending off Magneto down in Florida, but also the populace knows their code names. Why the Angel is a favorite among the ladies is unclear, considering his face is covered by a mask like Scott and Hank — perhaps the ’60s girls liked the wings. The beginnings of limitations on their powers is a good development especially this early in the series — despite their overconfidence (perhaps because of), it wouldn’t be good to have a group of teenage mutants with no limitations beyond inexperience. Bobby Drake is still the source of humor; his riding in the back of an ice cream truck (and stealing three chocolate chip pops) is a lighthearted highlight missing from issues these days. Hank’s linguistic style is starting to form, which is another nice development into the more-familiar version of the character, but it’s definitely in the early stages — he’s still more brute muscle with a touch of ego than physicist at this point. The X-Men still do not function well as a team; their antagonisms toward each other drive them more than following Xavier’s Dream, as well as their desire (the guys, at least) to impress Jean.
The Vanisher is an oddly-designed villain. Though he at least wants something tangible, his ability to vanish shouldn’t make him that much of a threat, which is probably why he has hired hooligans to take care of things just in case. He apparently can’t teleport things he can’t carry, so if the government just stopped keeping secret plans on tabletops he wouldn’t be much of a problem. The FBI liaison Fred Duncan is an odd addition as well, considering Xavier is supposedly the strongest mind on the planet (who insists on keeping his connection to the X-Men a secret). Why he’d need a special machine to amplify his thoughts (especially since he piloted a plane with all X-Men aboard from New York to Florida in the first issue without one) from New York to D.C. makes little sense. Certainly the most intriguing aspect of the issue is Professor Xavier’s willingness to mind-wipe the Vanisher with little to no moral hesitation — it took the mutilation of Wolverine for him to do it to Magneto in the impressive Fatal Attractions storyline 30 years later! Well, it’s still early yet. Lee is still working out who they are and why they do what they do. We can take comfort in the fact moral implications for their actions will become a more palpable aspect of these characters and their stories, especially when Chris Claremont takes the reins.
3) “Beware the Blob”
Everybody loves Jeannie. But few of them will admit it. Xavier’s reticence to announce his love for Jean is based on his physical shortcomings, not any relational transgressions between student and teacher. Now-Scott (no longer “Slim”) Summers’s reticence is based on his fear of losing control over his optic blast, finally adding a sympathetic aspect to his character. Unfortunately this sympathy is short-lived once he attacks the Blob (from behind!) with no real provocation, making the X-Men seem more like the Yancy Street Gang. Further character development comes in Hank’s refinement into both a student of advanced mathematics and a humorist as nimble vocally as he is physically. Even with these advancements (and Warren’s first indication of his wealth), the X-Men show all their individual training has made them individual fighters, with little ability to work together as a team. Once again they get captured individually and need Xavier to save the day, and once again Xavier mind-wipes the bad guys with little to no moral hesitation. Since he is only erasing their knowledge of the school’s location and their identities (by which I assume Stan Lee means what they look like under their masks), it is slightly less malicious than what he did to the Vanisher. They may have triumphed together, but only because Xavier saved them. They still have a lot to learn.
4) “The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants”
Meanwhile, one year later … (have the X-Men really been training for a year since Jean arrived in issue 1?) With this issue, X-Men begins to hit its initial stride. Lee and Kirby finally deliver an issue with layers of conflict, genuine motivation, and a satisfactory payoff. The House of Ideas was big on beginning their new series with origin stories, but the X-Men did not really get one, nor do the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. Though Xavier told us a bit of his origin in issue 1 (being born to parents who worked on the A-bomb and in the wheelchair because of a childhood accident — which soon is either retconned, proven a lie, or forgotten by Lee), we don’t yet know of any of the origins of the X-Men themselves (Jean did say she has had this power all her life, not since puberty, which becomes the typical moment for x-power appearances later in the X-Universe). The Scarlet Witch comes closest to having the next origin revealed, though we aren’t certain it is the first appearance of her hex power, since the enraged villagers know her already, nor do we know why Quicksilver wasn’t there to help but Magneto was. Quicksilver from the beginning is set as a morose, morally ambiguous character whose main concern is the safety of his sister: since she feels obligated to stay with Magneto, he stays with her (even though he does prevent the destruction of innocent civilians at the end). Though this issue is before we know of Magneto’s Nazi-affected past, it’s difficult not to find something odd in his use (through Mastermind at first) of very Nazi-like soldiers in his usurpation of Santo Marco. His genocidal tendencies against homo sapiens becomes very complex once that aspect of his past is uncovered. The great astral plane confrontation between Xavier and Magneto is a nice (albeit brief) beginning to their conflict (until we find out they knew each other long ago, rewriting what Xavier says here and in the first issue): “You have made your choice — forever we are mortal foes!” declares Magneto; a very chilling, exciting moment.
Once again the X-Men have great difficulty in working as a team, though their vocal antagonisms to each other are fading away a bit (Bobby still seems to love ice cream). Considering how powerful Xavier is supposed to be, it doesn’t make too much sense he has to throw himself from his chair to protect them from the blast instead of just mentally forcing these youngsters to stop in their tracks. As mentioned above, the X-Men need someone else to save the day — this time it’s Quicksilver, and Magneto escapes again. With Xavier’s powers gone, and the X-Men on a losing streak, they really need to get their teamwork together. After a whole year, they should be better at this “stopping evil mutants” career, even if they are still teenage students with only four known battles’ worth of experience.
5) “Trapped: One X-Man!”
Stride: broken. This supposed year of training did not really prepare them for this extra-terrestrial adventure, despite what Xavier says at the end. Once again the X-Men prove they are not yet a fighting team — they care more for each other’s well-being than for accomplishing their mission. I’m not saying these young heroes should not care for each other, but most of their battles against their doppelgängers (the inaccurately-named “Brotherhood” of Evil Mutants) consist of getting initially ambushed, stopping their pursuit to help each other out, then catching up and somehow figuring out how to end it in some coincidental fashion. Marvel Girl can lift a half-dozen girls up onto a theater marquee but she can’t lift Beast? Why not just have her engulfed by the mob instead of too weak to raise him up? Her parents visit for five minutes after her being away for an entire year? How did Xavier get so many government contacts before the X-Men even went semi-public? Why did Magneto send a rocket to pick up Toad after he said he’d rather have Angel anyway? Why did he let the X-Men escape with it if he controls the rockets himself? This issue may have been written a bit too hastily. The populace has gone from “in love with the X-Men” to “willing to assassinate the Toad for making a mockery of Track and Field,” which at least makes Xavier’s Dream a bit more necessary. The Danger Room is set on automatic — a terribly careless design. The lack of leadership by Cyclops continues, and Beast is the more decisive one in the assault on Asteroid M. Scarlet Witch’s surprise at Magneto’s willingness to kill the Angel is bizarre, considering he was just willing to blow up millions of civilians back in Santo Marco (either a day ago according to the X-Men, or weeks ago according to the Brotherhood — time passes by differently in outer space, after all). Angel finally shows some internal strength in his ability to withstand Magneto’s sensory inundation torture, which is at least one small positive aspect to this issue.
The series of magical conclusions at the end makes for a disappointing finish to the impressive first part of this conflict in the previous issue: Magneto forgets about the X-Men while confronting Quicksilver, Marvel Girl hurls a canister through “unbreakable” glass, all the X-Men have to do to survive the thousands of deadly darts is duck behind the doorway, someone somewhere somehow started detonating bits and pieces of Asteroid M, Mastermind goes from being able to mesmerize an entire nation to someone whose illusions are easily ignored, Iceman creates an ice tunnel that protects Cyclops and Angel from the vacuum of space, Magneto allows the X-Men to escape on his magnetically-controlled rocket, and Xavier was pretending to have lost his powers to test the X-Men against the Brotherhood as their final exam! The X-Men have faced three foes (if you lump Magneto and the Brotherhood together as one): Magneto escaped, Xavier mind-wiped the Vanisher and the Blob, Quicksilver disarmed the bomb and saved Santo Marco, and the Brotherhood escaped — how could he realistically consider them passing their “final exam”? Don’t get me wrong — I enjoy X-Men and the X-Universe very much (at least until, basically, Onslaught), but this issue is definitely a step backward in the creative process of developing the heroes, villains, and consistency (if I may use such a term) of the X-Universe.
6) “Submariner Joins the Evil Mutants”
Scott Summers finally puts on his man pants. At least one leg — he still has some work to do. He finally smiles and cracks some wise with his co-students (who, despite having “graduated” last issue still have student routines and relationships) during dinner. Hank, having read up on his calculus, has for some reason retrograded to Advanced Math. No mention is given about Jean or anyone having redesigned their uniforms (at least not that I could see), so why she has changed into a Scarlet Witch/Batgirl pastiche is as mysterious as how the team first got together, why Magneto insists on using (or not) his powerful weapons, and why Magneto is strong enough to carry a fully-loaded, fully-manned tanker 50 miles but can’t contain the X-Men who still aren’t masters of their own powers.
One of the few bright spots (along with a better appearance for Wanda and Pietro than last issue, as well as a nice turn from Namor) in this issue is the development of Scott Summers. Not only is he showing some diverse emotions and humor, but also he finally starts commanding the X-Men in battle — true, Warren does not listen, but since he gets into trouble for not listening and Cyclops comes pretty close to rescuing him and Hank, Cyclops seems finally to be taking some leadership in the field (after Angel called most of the shots last issue and Hank’s leadership turn in Fantastic Four 28). Also, Scott says he is finally starting to master the diverse fields and ranges of his power beam, which is good since it’s been over a year. He has already demonstrated control over fine-tune beams (Hank’s hand here, the lock on the door last issue); it’s about time he starts manipulating angles and field widths as well as increasing his stamina with the more intense blasts.
Bobby is still an anomaly: he clowns around out of costume still (he’s only, what, 15 or so?) and really loves cake and pie, but in the field he has demonstrated so far the most efficient attacks and extemporaneous moves. His control over his powers is the best developed so far, even though some years down the road he laments his inability to reach his full potential. Xavier, also, seems to have learned a lesson from the Blob — the X-Men should not force anyone to join them, so he “lets” Pietro and Wanda return to Magneto. Though some of the sub-plots are forgotten by the end (and Stan Lee loves to talk about Namor in terms of taut steel bands), this issue is definitely a return to the progress made in issue 4.
7) “The Return of the Blob”
Scott Summers’s man pants: fully on. Though the villains are making little progress, the X-Men are finally developing both as individual characters and as a team. For two issues in a row now, in far better style than their “final exam” on Asteroid M, the X-Men operate as a team. True, there are still some flaws in their strategies (like flying a metallic helicopter to meet Magneto) and they do sometimes focus more on their own safety than securing the mission, but they are finally more fluidly attacking their enemies with concerted efforts. This is just in time, too, since Xavier bows out from not only their education but also their militaristic/peace-keeping endeavors. We do not know where he is going (or why Cerebro is so large and must be watched constantly), but he has definitely left the right man in charge. Scott is becoming the man we know from the ’90s — decisive, humble, concerned for others. He’s not there yet, but his ready acknowledgement Beast is more intelligent and Angel is more charismatic is a good sign for his administrative skills. His “lonely at the top” persona also begins as he wishes the other graduates well while he stays behind to listen to Cerebro beep incessantly. He does get a bit too insistent as they dress for their latest ultimate clash with the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, but since it’s their first fight under his leadership without Xavier (against the Blob and the Brotherhood, no less), we can forgive his martinet dunning.
We also get treated to the first off-campus hangout for the gang, Coffee A Go Go — it’s not Harry’s Hideaway, but it is a good start (though awfully dated with the Beatnik satire from Lee). Beast and Iceman get a bit careless with their mutant talk and actions, but who will believe Beatniks, anyway? The Blob’s reaction to Magneto’s treachery, while similar to Namor’s last issue, is new enough and one of the best moments in the entire series to date (seven issues in). He realizes neither “good” nor “evil” side of the mutants has much to offer at this point, and he is correct: both the X-Men and Magneto have yet to fully mature in their motives and tactics. A few niggling points: no, Art Simek, you didn’t spell all the words correctly (“all right” is two words, not one); the graduation photo at the beginning, while neat, would have made more sense out of costume — especially if they ever want to show it to anyone! If Magneto is so powerful, why does he still insist on using weaponry, and why has he been saving this warehouse for just such an occasion? and if his strategy included Xavier helping the X-Men, why would it fail if he wasn’t there — why would he need to come up with a better plan without accounting for him? A good niggling point may be Jean is back to being strong enough to actually lift more than her weight, and Wanda shows more backbone both against Mastermind and in the battle. The love triangle among Jean, Scott, and Warren gets some more believable development as well (complicated slightly by Warren’s brief infatuation with Wanda). The issue on the whole, especially for all of these character moments (and others like Mastermind’s humanity and desire for both assistance and Wanda — though a bit lecherous — as well as the continuing disintegration of Wanda and Pietro’s loyalty to Magneto) makes this another good step in the right direction.
8) “Unus the Untouchable!”
After facing Magneto five times in their first seven issues, the X-Men finally get a break against Unus the Untouchable. We have been waiting for sensible strategies from both the X-Men and the Brotherhood, and strangely enough Magneto is the one to provide it: sending Mastermind as a scout to persuade Unus to join them, instead of attacking full force like with Namor and the Blob. Fortunately, there is no scene of Magneto’s inexplicable mental powers here; having seen him explore the spaceways and undersea depths in his astral plane form like he’s Doctor Strange, it’s a bit refreshing to see some limitations and even sensibility in Magneto. Unfortunately, the X-Men do not seem to be on the same plane yet; they are still teenagers, despite now doing their “post-graduate” work. Why is Jean always training on hands-free huswifery? When would it possibly be necessary in their mission for Jean to be able to overhand stitch without any hands? Though Unus’s power is never explained or explored to any meaningful degree, Jean’s telekinetic power certainly could have been of some use — she doesn’t even get to join in the attack! Considering how careful the X-Men have been for each other’s safety so far, Scott certainly doesn’t need to shout out a secret attack code for “catch me and lower me gently to the ground.”
Hank is the most intriguing aspect of the issue, in his hasty resignation from the team and his apathy toward the fate of humanity. Though we are shown the first real signs of homo sapiens antagonism to homo superior since the Toad’s track and field display in issue 5, surely Hank hasn’t faced so much he can really be fed up, especially since he was carried away in triumph out of the coffee bar last issue. Beast’s mathematical skill is finally demonstrated, but why he can’t spend thirty seconds to explain to the team why he is back and enhancing Unus’s powers is bizarre, reminiscent of Reed Richards’s passivity in their recent FF crossover. The ending, again, is wrapped-up a bit too neatly, especially since the reason Hank quit in the first place still exists, and Cyclops’s apology is thoroughly disingenuous. The issue is saved to a degree from its illogical aspects by the continuing tension of Angel/Cyclops/Marvel Girl, Bobby developing his ice form instead of his snowman form, the mystery of Xavier searching for Lucifer, Cyclops’s growing leadership skills, and the advent of a new opponent.
9) “Enter, the Avengers!”
Two steps forward, one step back. This issue was my first experience of the X-Men, from the 1983 collection Mighty Marvel Team-Up Thrillers. Back then I couldn’t understand why the X-Men were supposedly teenagers, since they looked a lot older than the teenagers I knew around the neighborhood and school. Additionally, there is very little of the teenage hijinks/dialogue that detracts from some of the other early issues (not that I had read them back then), so the X-Men do not seem like teenagers, especially now that Hank’s dialogue is cementing into his intellectually verbose style. The issue is a refreshing change for the first half of the story: the X-Men are on vacation of a sort, and they actually show concern for each other (mostly Scott) at a time other than when they should be focusing on conquering the villain of the week. Another nice touch is they are off on the vacation because Xavier told Scott to bring the X-Men there, despite his earlier declaration he was no longer with the team. Xavier gets to do something on his own, which is nice, although Lucifer does not prove to be much of an antagonist.
As nice as it is to see the X-Men meet the Avengers finally, and that there is some acknowledgement they exist in the same universe and have both heard of each other, there is no logical need for the teams to fight — all Xavier has to do (purportedly the world’s most powerful mind) is tell both teams at the beginning what the situation is and not wait until the end and just tell Thor. Though Stan Lee does use the conflict as the crux that allows Xavier to conquer Lucifer, the lack of logical plotting is still a bit disappointing. The match of Avenger and X-Man is a quaint part of the story and the closest the issue comes to character development, but the Wasp defeating Marvel Girl with the old “hair in the eyes” trick is a bit embarrassing. The only other character bits are Marvel Girl’s internal recognition that Scott can’t requite her love since he is their leader, which is a good progression from previous issues that had her more petulant at his lack of reciprocation. The team-work of Cyclops and Xavier in diffusing the bomb is the most impressive aspect of the issue, in that it finally acknowledges the limitations of Xavier’s telepathic abilities (not his non-existent telekinetic abilities he has sometimes displayed) as they work in conjunction with Cyclops’s controlled fine-field blast. He still needs to work on his endurance, especially as the “interim” leader of this group, but he’s getting his act together.
The ending, though, is a mixture of the emotionally moving and the mind-blowingly inane: Xavier gets to show some personal emotion about the loss of his legs years ago, which is great to see, and the X-Men finally actually defeat a foe without resorting to morally-questionable mind tampering (not counting Xavier’s knock-out work earlier), and what do they do once they have prevented Lucifer from destroying the world? … Let him go with a “see, we beat you, so there”! No, it is not enough he has been defeated; it is not enough there is no place too remote to escape their retribution (it took 10 years for Xavier to find him this time!). The X-Men have to stop letting their enemies go, otherwise there is no real point in their existence. The X-Universe needs an Arkham Asylum.
10) “The Coming of … Ka-Zar!”
Issue 10 sees some progress in the main structure of the series, though some common elements present from the beginning are still around (some good, some bad). Instead of the next “go find the latest mutant” story, we know from the beginning Ka-Zar is not a mutant — but the X-Men are so bored of just training/post-graduate practice they beg to seek him out anyway (even though Washington apparently knows nothing needs to be done, despite the news coverage). This is an issue that could have used some more follow-up to the previous issue. Professor X has just returned from his mysterious absence, which turned out to be a personal vigilante expedition against mostly-feckless Lucifer (whom he just let go!), only to return to the mansion without any explanation or justification. It is good Cyclops is taking the lead, now that we have some clarity to the hierarchy of leadership, but Professor X seems to have lost a fair amount of authority lately. Similarly, Angel’s lack of diligence goes unnoticed. It makes sense he would be the one with the most contact with the outside world, since he is part of a financially substantial organization/family, but shouldn’t he be tending to his responsibilities and not just watching the news? Another unfortunate hangover from their “graduate studies” is the attack-first mentality, and Cyclops still is one of the main culprits. They know they are there to investigate, but instead of explaining things to Ka-Zar they just acquiesce to brawling. Suddenly, Ka-Zar is willing to forgive them and help rescue Angel and Jean, which makes little sense. At least Jean finally is starting to detect something more in Scott’s attitude toward her (shouldn’t she be able to read his thoughts?). This issue has less X-member antagonisms in it, which is a welcome relief — they should be working better as a team by now, which they finally are, whether they like each other or not. Hank is becoming more like the technical genius/linguistic humorist we know him to be as well. Overall, the issue is a nice break from what has become a somewhat tired formula, though it still is hampered by these little flaws and the fact though they are “introducing” Zabu, he really isn’t featured all that much. The issue is a sign of their maturity heading in the right direction, but they still aren’t fully there yet.
11) “The Triumph of Magneto!”
Though this issue relies on the too-familiar structure of most X-Men issues to date, it breaks the mold (finally) by the end for an actually satisfying deus ex machina ending. The cover sets the tone for something different: finally Lee and Kirby do not clutter the cover with the juvenile slogans and graphic art that have distracted most of the Marvel covers up to this issue. By this point, the reader base had to have been big enough they didn’t need to draw childish attention to themselves (though the comments in the letters section and occasional writing intimate Lee still isn’t taking this Universe too seriously yet). The too-familiar structure begins with Xavier rallying the post-grads together with a “Cerebro has detected a new mutant, so we have to get to him before Magneto does.” Like the previous issue with Ka-Zar, Xavier indicates it is someone beyond a “regular” mutant, once Cerebro’s new imaging power system gets defeated (somewhat disappointing for the first time of a new feature).
A highlight of this transitional issue is the acknowledgement the X-Men are growing out of their previous pre-grad antics — even though Bobby gets a bit carried away, and Xavier reprimands him — and Bobby is increasing in his powers perhaps better than anyone else on the team. Another highlight is the lack of explanation of who the Stranger is and the source/origin of his powers. The Marvel Universe has a fair amount of supernatural beings, but at this point in its inception, most of them are Norse gods and beings. It’s about time serious supernatural beings with inexplicable powers start to appear (outside of the FF). Magneto’s defeat, as mentioned above, is satisfying in that it is high time the self-styled “strongest mutant” on the planet gets his comeuppance with nothing but a thought from the Stranger. His arrogance had debilitated his character — hopefully, when he finally returns from the Stranger’s collection, he will not be so one-sided. Another fine resolution (in a sense) here is Wanda and Pietro’s abandonment of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. They finally realize they no longer owe Magneto anything and leave; their decision is almost meaningless, though, since Mastermind is encased in carbonite and Toad and Magneto are off with the Stranger: there is no more Brotherhood. The tension between Jean and Scott is still alive, now to the point of Jean’s jealousy appearing pretty quickly. The cliffhanger is a bit over the top, but one must remember the era. The cheesy moments are still here (especially in Cerebro having cardstock nameplates for its warning device — you’d have hoped a bit more forward thinking would rule out, but even Lester Del Rey had difficulties with that), but it is another good issue heading in the right direction.
12) “The Origin of Professor X”
From a rational perspective, the main premise of this issue is a bit cheesy: Xavier is fearful the worst menace ever to attack the X-Men is pounding its inexorable way to the mansion, so he takes this opportunity to tell them the story of his childhood. Either Juggernaut is terribly slow, or Charles’s storytelling pace is quite rapid. Perhaps the most groan-worthy aspect of the issue is the sudden realization “oh, wait, we have a gigantic metal inner wall of protection — I just remembered that!” and it is during this scene of heightened urgency to raise this last line of defense Warren, Bobby, and Hank resume their recently-abandoned hijinks and in-fighting. The third, and smallest, niggle in this issue is actually resolved well — the other X-Men learning of Cerebro. Why Charles and Scott wanted it a secret from the others for so long makes no sense, especially since they just talked about its visualizing capability in the previous issue in front of everyone. It’s good finally to let the others know part of the mechanism responsible for sending them on so many seek-and-invite missions, especially now that they are graduates.
With the three main blemishes of the issue out of the way, we can highlight some of the good merits of this issue. As a whole, the issue works (putting the timing element aside) quite well, both as an increasing suspense build-up and as a set-up for the next issue. Though we have already had two-part-like issues with the X-Men, this is really the first preview (admittedly in a very microcosmic form) of the longer cross-over/extended storylines to come. We have had several stand-alone issues already, almost to the point of A-Team-like predictability and formula. Though some may argue (rightly) today we have too many mega-crossovers and events and not enough simple, self-contained stories, this does not take away from the necessity at this point in the X-Universe to develop longer stories and rounded characters. Making Cain Marko Charles’s step-brother instead of half-brother or true brother distances the intrigue somewhat — it would have been much more interesting (especially before the Cassandra Nova nonsense) to make them true brothers, since Magneto’s early connection to Charles hadn’t been invented yet. The drama with their parents is rescued from sheer melodrama by Kurt’s dying regrets and sincerity. Charles’s early life is more reminiscent of Magneto in a way, with the feeling of superiority over mere mortals. It seems rather unlikely Charles and Cain would be serving together in the same platoon in Korea, coupled with the unlikelihood that Cyttorak’s temple just so happens to be slightly off their patrol lines fully open for anyone to enter. Charles’s excuse for abandoning Cain, that he no longer exists because he has been possessed by the gem, is rather weak. Perhaps some of his guilt for abandoning him helps motivate Charles to become a protector of mankind and advocate for equality.
13) “Where Walks the Juggernaut!”
Delivery: failure. Here is another example of the problem with the early Marvel Age: incredible villains, too powerful to be beaten realistically. After a pretty intense build-up/introduction in the previous issue, with Xavier proclaiming how unstoppable he was all the time, we probably should have been prepared for a letdown with how the X-Men were going to defeat a supposedly unconquerable foe. The brief cameo by Daredevil is a nice touch; the lengthier appearance of Johnny Storm is also a nice aspect of the issue — especially since he isn’t terribly crucial to the solution, despite Xavier’s declarations. Perhaps the most confusing element is the identity of Cain Marko/Juggernaut. Is there such a person, still, as Cain Marko or not? Xavier didn’t think so back in the Korean War, which was part of his justification in abandoning him under all that rubble. Juggernaut himself says for most of this issue there is no Cain Marko. But, at the end, without his telepathy-proof helmet, Cain’s juvenile petulance emerges again, with his motivation for killing Xavier coming out as a whine. Though this works on one level, it betrays the entire “there is no Cain Marko” buildup — why would Juggernaut even feel motivated to seek out Xavier in the first place if there was no Cain Marko psyche fueling him? It’s just confusing.
Xavier is morally ambiguous again, mind-wiping friend and foe alike then following it up with an attempt at broom humor. Before Wolverine and Cable were the major loose cannons, Xavier was the real loose cannon of the X-Men. He may look like Picard, but he’s definitely Kirk at heart. If we look at Jean’s ability to pick up Juggernaut fairly easily (if only briefly) compared to her inability to even move Blob not as a mistake, it then is a good sign of her continued growing facility with her abilities. The team is working together well (though Xavier intimates most of it was by his power, amplified by his latest machine), even better than ever. The Juggernaut’s strength perhaps is best seen not in his easy defeat but in the fact the X-Men are actually wounded for the first time in a significant way. The set-up does not really pay off too well as a whole, but there are enough bits and pieces that salvage this issue and the direction in which the series is going.
14) “Among Us Stalk … the Sentinels!”
This issue has a lot of things going for it in terms of developing and expanding the X-Universe, making it the multifaceted dangerous place (especially for mutants) we know it to be today (at least before M-Day). Though it does still utilize the tired “this … no, this … no, this is the most dangerous foe we’ve ever encountered!” structure (even Professor Xavier, as smart as he is, should be tired of saying that each time they encounter someone new), at least the foe this time is not the latest Cerebro-discovered mutant. We are here introduced to Bolivar Trask and his Sentinels, though they don’t remain “his” for very long. With his proclamation (and the utter gullibility of the world’s newspapermen, apparently), the pockets of anti-mutant sentiment burgeon into outright bigotry and hysteria. Xavier displays his great political power in a quick response, in that he can basically order the major television network to give him an on-air debate with Trask immediately. (This is a bit of a plot hole: if the Sentinels attack the next evening, why is Jean still on the train? why is Angel only just getting home?) Considering the ease with which Xavier has been mind-wiping his foes for most of the series’ run, it’s somewhat bemusing he doesn’t just read Trask’s mind right away to understand what he is about and then discover the Sentinels before they attack — especially since he has no compunction against keeping an entire studio full of civilians brain-locked just so they can’t see his association with the X-Men. The still-diminished power of the X-Men is another frustrating aspect of this still-early issue: we are continually told they have been training and fighting intolerance for years — so why are their powers still so weak? Why does Cyclops need to recharge after every big blast? Why does Jean still need to take a break after raising things with her mind? I understand they are still teenagers, but if we are to believe they are capable of defeating so many otherwise unstoppable foes and saving mankind from itself, they have to start getting really good at what they do.
With that said, the Sentinel story is a welcome change (even though it does take away from the more-interesting anti-mutant storyline with Trask). The all-too brief character moments are another welcome addition, and the issue would certainly have benefited from more of them instead of making all their vacation scenes end so abruptly. The close-up panels on Scott are some of the better panels in several issues, in part because we get the feeling we are really connecting with him, just like we do in a roundabout way when Xavier watches Scott leave for his secret vacation. Like many of these early issues, this has its flaws, but like many of these early issues, it has its bright spots that keep our interest going in the world’s most unusual teenagers. “Now” (to them), the original readers only had to wait one month for the next installment (despite the protests by the Bullpen Gang only a few issues before they didn’t have the staff to make X-Men a monthly magazine). We’ll see if it is a disappointing conclusion like the end to the Juggernaut story was — but again, the main thing to remember is that even though the logic and details are somewhat sketchy, the X-Universe is finally becoming a rich, diverse place.
15) “Prisoners of the Mysterious Master Mold!”
Again the Marvel Comics Group proves it has difficulties with multiple-part storylines. There are some good moments in this issue, as with most of them, but the lack of planning/thinking-through who/what the Sentinels are becomes even more apparent than it was in their inaugural issue. The Sentinels are supposed to be connected and aware of what is going on (in a Borg-like hive-mind), but some of them do not know the X-Men are mutants or that they are even under attack, despite the fact the automatic defenses are blaring and blasting away. Why some Sentinels don’t attack the X-Men on sight is unclear and confusing. So, too, is Xavier’s need to remind them they have been training for two years for this very thing: shouldn’t they have this down by now? Bolivar Trask’s rather quick change of heart concerning the X-Men and mutants is another short-sighted element of this still-early story. Trasks’s ability to create the sentient demagogue Master Mold is similarly inexplicable.
The Beast’s backstory is disappointingly reminiscent of Professor X’s history: are all mutants the same, or was the creative team so overwhelmed with monthly issues they couldn’t actually be creative? I’m uncertain whether Xavier’s astral form danger is interesting and dramatic or just corny — magnetic discharges affect the astral plane? The best part of the issue is the continuing development of the X-Men fighting and operating as a team (though the flying ice disc is remarkably inane). This is also the first issue (of the X-Men series, at least) in which the Bullpen gets its own separate page, freeing up the letters pages to concentrate on letters and their insincere replies. We also learn the “Marvel Pop-Art Productions” signs on recent issues were a serious attempt to change the name of the company — we can be very grateful they realized so soon how idiotic that notion was. After some impressive years of burgeoning success with the FF, Avengers, Spider-Man, Daredevil, X-Men, and others, why is the Marvel Comics Group still not taking itself seriously?
16) “The Supreme Sacrifice!”
Back on track (again). This issue is much better than the middle section of the story and one of the better issues in quite some time, despite the continual deus ex machina-like resolutions. It’s nice Stan Lee is a fan of classical theater, but its overuse has become trite, along with the “this is our most dangerous foe yet” dialogue still hampering the story at times (especially Xavier’s opening recap-lines, though, fortunately, it is not as prevalent as in the earlier issues). As nice as it was to have a resolution to the collapsing Sentinel two issues ago, making it a giant crystal that just so happens to be dangling from a nearby building is a bit far-fetched, even for a series based on mutant teenagers.
It’s interesting to note the opening pages of the issues no longer refer to the X-Men as the “most unusual teenagers of all time,” as if the by-now years’ worth of training has seen them move into adulthood (or, at least, their twenties). This maturity is seen in the diminishing hijinks (especially at the most inopportune times — though Hank still cracks wise at odd times), Scott’s great line encouraging Bobby he’s a man and no longer just a silly kid, and their increasing functionality as a team. Their teamwork is shown well in their preempted escape from the gravity bubble, made even better by the absence of nonsensical attack pattern names (“Angel, attack plan D-33!” or some such nonsense they used to have that was thankfully dropped — except here Stan Lee takes the time to insert a wisecrack about the lack of rationality/science of the Sentinels’ machines, totally disrupting the seriousness/reality of the situation!).
It is also interesting to note Bobby does not automatically de-ice when he loses consciousness — it’s not a major point, just a small addition to his powers that is nice to know. Now it is Angel’s turn to feel useless, with no super powers other than his wings — but again the team assures him of his usefulness as he helps them escape, working in tandem with Marvel Girl, who is likewise finally using her powers in skillful, advanced ways. Her ability to telekinetically work locks is a good development, even if the sudden appearance of a lock mechanism is suspicious. Trask’s sacrifice is no big surprise and too long in developing, but it is a nice touch. Again Xavier has no problem mind-wiping allies still in an effort to keep his association from the X-Men a secret — but since Washington already knows about it, his motivation is continually confusing in this area. The nice resolution is hampered by both Stan Lee’s overt moralizing and the final “whose shadow is approaching the mansion?” panel — just let the story tell itself, Aesop. There is no need for suspenseful endings by now, either. This storyline (and its moral) will be a popular form for the X-Men over the years, perhaps most notably with Chris Claremont’s God Loves, Man Kills in the early ’80s. The Sentinels themselves, a great idea though flawed by lack of thorough planning, will become much better, sleeker opponents in the years ahead, as well.
17) “… And None Shall Survive”
“The way it ought to be!” Incorporating haunted house suspense into fine character moments, Lee and Co. deliver a pretty impressive issue with only a few flaws. Hank betrays some brief sexism when he jokes Jean needs her constant chatter just like a woman, but Jean possibly indicates she knows he is joking; it would be a relief to know the smartest X-Man is not gender-biased. The only other glaring flaw in this issue is Jean “forgets” she can levitate herself with her TK ability. After all their practice, and the great success she had last issue, why would she just forget she can do that? Other than those brief moments, the issue as a whole is rather lucid (except for why Magneto is placing the X-Men in a giant steel gondola). Xavier covers his connection to the X-Men well, the way Magneto traps the X-Men is believable (albeit corny at times) and mildly suspenseful especially as he doesn’t use his magnetic powers to reveal his identity, and the tension of the Worthingtons’ visit supplies some good moments as well. Xavier admits the families of the students are the weakest links in their identities/security (even though they have all “graduated”), and the Worthingtons’ unwillingness to postpone their visit is good proof of that. Even though Cyclops told Iceman he was a man like the rest of them in the previous issue, unconscious Bobby still struggles with his need to prove himself, an issue that will not be resolved for several decades. The first half of the issue focuses on character moments, which adds a great deal of depth (if not verisimilitude) to the X-Universe, as the team has to recover from their Sentinel battle and spend some time being themselves (though still their costumed hero selves). These sorts of issues really help the series grow.
18) “If Iceman Should Fail!”
The previous issue saw the older X-Men demonstrate a healing power far superior to Wolverine’s recuperative abilities (no doubt this is dropped soon). Bobby Drake, unfortunately, does not seem to have such good health … until Dr. Thomas injects him with the miraculous, experimental sulfa. Bobby does a fairly decent job standing up against Magneto, even though not too many people seem to take this issue seriously (including the creative team and characters within it). Magneto, fresh from his bitterness against the failure of the Brotherhood, decides the best way to take over the world would be to do it himself … by creating a synthetic army from the genes of the Worthingtons using the machines Xavier already has lying around. The entire steel gondola plan betrays Magneto’s claims to ruthlessness — why not just kill them? How is he going to take over the world if he can’t even eliminate his biggest enemies when he has the chance? The Stranger coming at the last moment (looking like the North Wind) to chase away Magneto is another example of the creative team’s inability to come up with a thorough, solid story. They caved in to fan mail asking to bring Magneto back, brought him back with no real purpose or motivation, and whisked him away again, letting down the interesting potential of some of the moments in this issue: the Worthingtons visiting the school and Bobby having to face Magneto alone. Bobby does a decent job, as mentioned above, especially in his debilitated condition, hopefully earning him more respect from others (even though Cyclops assured him before he was a man and their equal). The real outsider left is Jean, wearing her apron in the final panel like the hired help, not the most dangerous telekinetic mind on the planet, who got no thanks at all for her part in rescuing them from the steel gondola. It’s an up and down issue that falters a bit too much (e.g., Xavier’s mental instruction to Bobby: “You must leave [the hospital] unnoticed! Form an ice slide at the window!” An ice slide won’t get him noticed?).
The final point worth mentioning is Xavier’s possession of a “counter ego,” a mental-identity that can perform telekinetic feats when his brain is otherwise incapacitated. Perhaps this is really the source of Onslaught? I truly wish this interesting element had received more attention in the intervening years and issues. Xavier deserves better treatment (as do they all).
19) “Lo! Now Shall Appear the Mimic!”
As innovative a creator and enthusiastic a personality Stan Lee is, it is quite clear by issue 19 of X-Men he had pretty much run out of ideas. The Mimic is innovative, sure, but his origin story is fundamentally no different from Xavier’s origin and Beast’s origin: atomic or chemical explosion/accident followed by dominance at everything in school coupled with loss of social acceptance. Not only does Calvin Rankin copy the powers around him, but his story is a re-hash of most stories we’ve seen already. The issue does have a good premise with Rankin as the Mimic, as I said before, but Lee fails to follow through in a meaningful way. He is clearly a mutant (even he knows it), but Cerebro doesn’t register him as one. The X-Men give up on their defeat of Rankin too quickly, perhaps because of their hubris at the beginning of the issue with their too-easy training. They had a vacation cut short again and seem to be sick of being X-Men for some inexplicable reason. Things are too easy, even when confronted by their own powers — the only thing too difficult is having successful romantic lives or being allowed to finish a vacation. Xavier finishes up the re-hashed episode with once again mind-wiping the foe, this time while he is already down and unconscious from the trickery of Rankin’s father and power-absorbing machine that still works after being buried in rubble for an undisclosed period of time. If that wasn’t enough, the teaser for the next issue promises the return of three old villains: Unus, the Blob, and Lucifer — that’s supposed to be exciting? It was time for a writing change, indeed.
House of Ideas: A Dream Defended
Before the X-Universe became thoroughly convoluted by ubiquitous “franchise-wide events” and retconning (though it didn’t actually take them long to start rethinking the origins of these characters), the X-Universe was a fairly simple, straightforward place: Jean Grey was just a girl with telekinetic abilities; Hank McCoy was a human-looking mathematical genius; Bobby Drake was a youthful prankster who loved ice cream; Warren Worthington III was a blonde, natural-feathered millionaire; Scott Summers was a standoffish, Jean-loving leader-in-training; and Charles Xavier was a man with a dream who had never met Magneto before. The times were simple, but, then again, so, too, were the stories and conflicts. The development, especially through the Claremont era, made it a much more interesting and enjoyable universe — it is just a shame the writers of today, especially, feel the need to destroy the foundations and characters of yesteryear in order to make the stories of today so shattering and revolutionary (I’m talking to you, Morrison and Bendis). The characters and stories of the original Stan Lee era are perhaps overly simple, and oftentimes incomplete, but, to be fair, they did lay the foundation for some thrilling and heartbreaking characters, conflicts, and stories to come in a universe that, while not always safe and happy, is always driven by an optimistic dream: freedom and life itself are worth fighting (and dying) for.
Editor’s Note:
Now is the best time to begin reading these classic stories, if you only know of the X-Men and other Marvel superheroes from the recent motion pictures. We are living in an age of affordable re-prints and trade paperbacks (and collector’s hardcover publications) the like of which has never been seen before. Fine, reputable local merchants and on-line distributers offer an incredible selection of collections at more-than-reasonable prices, of either the individual titles/series themselves or collections of major cross-over storylines and events. Additionally, the GIT Corporation released a few years ago several Marvel titles on dvd-rom, collecting digital pdf copies of over 40 years’ worth of complete issues (complete with original covers, advertisements, and letters pages unavailable in the other re-print trades) of the Fantastic Four, X-Men, Avengers, Silver Surfer, Amazing Spider-Man, Ghost Rider, Invincible Iron Man, Captain America, and more. Though these are out of print currently, they always re-appear on the market sooner or later. Finally, wonderful Web sites such as newkadia.com and mycomicshop.com have mind-blowing collections of individual issues at unbeatable prices to complete any missing gaps in any collection. It truly is the best time to catch up on the great past of Marvel (and DC) comics and read some incredible stories. Excelsior!
There are certain bands throughout music that impacted music in such a way they cannot be ignored. Nirvana created “grunge” and was the voice of a whole generation of angry teenagers; Elvis Presley combined blues and country to make what we now know as rock and roll. Everyone knows who the Beatles are; everyone has at some point in their life heard a Beatles song. Many people don’t see the Beatles’ true impact on music, however; many people think the Beatles are overrated and over played. The Beatles are the most influential band in the past century; their influence is so felt in music most people wouldn’t even noticed it, and their influence is so ingrained in modern day music and fashion people just overlook them. Something people can’t deny though is that for better or worse the Beatles changed music. Think: a band that was only together from 1962-1970, only six years, and they’re the bestselling band in the history of rock and roll.
The Beatles started in 1955 when Paul McCartney joined John Lennon’s band “The Quarrymen.” A year later a thirteen-year-old guitar player named George Harrison also joined the band. In 1960, Peter Best became their drummer, and they renamed the band “The Silver Beatles.” In 1961, “The Silver Beatles,” now just shortened to “The Beatles,” were making their mark playing in clubs in Hamburg, Germany. They would return to Liverpool in late 1961; here they began to attract a big following.
When the Beatles returned home and started playing at the Cavern Club, they made a very big impression on Brian Epstein. Epstein was a young manager who wanted to record a few demos with the Beatles. Epstein got them into the recording studio but not without one big change, their drummer. The Beatles were no longer impressed with Peter Best as a drummer; Epstein simply voiced the Beatles’ feelings, and in 1962 Peter Best was kicked out of the Beatles. The drummer they got to replace Best was the only professional musician prior to being with the Beatles. His name was Richard Starkey, but in his year of on-stage performance, he earned the nick-name “Ringo Starr.” “Ringo” was because he liked to wear a lot of rings on both hands, and “Starr” was short for “Starkey.”
In September 1962, the Beatles released their first single, “Love Me Do/P.S. I Love You.” Their first single was not a great success; it barely broke onto the Britain top 20. In early 1963, the Beatles released their second single titled after their debut LP, “Please Please Me.” The LP would be at the top of British music charts for an amazing 30 weeks. In December of 1963, the Beatles released their first U.S. single, “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” The single was instantly at the top of the charts in the U.S. Then they were asked to perform on the Ed Sullivan Show in February of 1964. After their U.S. tv debut, the Beatles would be a hit like no other band in history. After the Ed Sullivan Show, the Beatles had the top five singles in the U.S. and the top two albums.
The Beatles were now making movies; their infamous “mop top” haircuts were seen on most young men in the U.S. In 1964, Beatles merchandise outsold Disney. The impact the Beatles had on pop culture was clear. The Beatles brought a very upbeat and happy sound to rock and roll. In 1965, their image would change. With the release of their album Rubber Soul, the Beatles did away with their “good boy” image, and their sound also started to change. Instead of just making upbeat pop, the Beatles started to make more deep meaningful tracks such as “In My Life” and “Norwegian Wood.” “Norwegian Wood” was the first top ten hit to feature a sitar.
Rubber Soul was its own unique musical experience, and each song showed how the Beatles were changing. The Beatles began to stray away from their upbeat pop sound. The Beatles began to explore more influences from the east, and they began to get into eastern mysticism. The next album after Rubber Soul was Revolver, the album featured the songs “Eleanor Rigby” and “Yellow Submarine.” The album revolutionized the use of background instrumentation apart from just guitar, bass, and drums in popular music. The Beatles’ changing style was greatly helped by their producer George Martin, who encouraged the Beatles to experiment.
After Revolver was Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band; the album started with a concept by George Martin of two separate tracks working together. This can be seen in two songs on the album, “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band/With a Little Help from My Friends” and “A Day in the Life.” The album also showed the contrasting styles of John Lennon and Paul McCartney. In “A Day in the Life” was a competition between Paul and John to see who could write a better song. This sort of competition began to drive Paul and John apart; that, combined with the fact their girlfriends were constantly fighting, began to end the Beatles.
The Beatles’ next album was Magical Mystery Tour, which, when it was released, was a huge flop. The music critics at the time complained the album had too much psychedelic influence; this can be seen in the only top ten hit of the album “I am the Walrus.” The Beatles even admitted they didn’t put their best effort into the album, which was a soundtrack to a tv movie; the movie was the least successful of the four movies the Beatles starred in.
The next album was a mix of the Beatles’ psychedelic influences and their old pop sound; the album released in 1968 was simply titled The Beatles LP, but it came to be more commonly known as the White Album. The White Album was the Beatles’ only double album, and it was recorded during a time of great turmoil after a controversial visit with the Maharishi in India. The album featured the single “Helter Skelter,” which in Ozzy Osborn’s words, “was the first metal song ever made and my greatest inspiration.” The Beatles were starting to get a bit more into hard rock; this was mainly spurred on by Paul.
There were two albums after the White Album; Let it Be and Abbey Road. Let it Be was recorded first, but the producer George Martin decided to extend the release date because he felt it needed more work. The Beatles then started to work on their last studio album, Abbey Road. The album continued a lot of the same ideas Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band had. Both albums are considered to be concept albums, which means songs could be mixed together and could be played one after the other without any pause in between. The best example of this is the last five songs on Abbey Road, known as “The Abbey Road Medley.” The last five songs are all really one song. The last song ever recorded by the Beatles in studio was “I Want You/She’s so Heavy.” Four days after the recording was finished, John announced to the band he was leaving; he agreed he wouldn’t make a public announcement until certain legal issues with the record company were resolved. Abbey Road came out in September, 1969. John Lennon announced publically he was leaving the band in December of 1969. Let it Be then came out in May of 1970, and Paul released a statement explaining reasons for the break with the album’s release.
It was the end of the Beatles, but what they accomplished in only seven years of making albums is remarkable. They brought the idea of the concept album to the forefront of music. They changed pop forever; pop no longer had to be upbeat guitar riffs and songs about girls. Pop was deeper now; it can be seen in their last single, “Let it Be.” The Beatles forever changed how music was made and how the public perceived music. They influenced generations of musician after them from Ozzy Osborn to Michael Jackson. Without the Beatles it is a fact music as we know it today would not exist. They changed music forever, and no band after has had as great an impact on music and pop culture as the Beatles.
Music: it is known as the universal language. All cultures have some form of music, and just as cultures change, so does music. Music is a building that will never be completed; each trend and fad contributes to the next. Think that if some primitive man didn’t think to tighten an animal skin over a circular piece of wood, we would never have the snare, tom, and bass drums we have today. Every musician throughout all of history has been influenced by someone else; Mozart to Lil’ Wayne have/had an influence. This is even true today with the rise of electronic music such as dubstep, techno, dance hall, etc. It is true the instruments for these genres to even exist are somewhat recent inventions, but nonetheless their roots can be clearly traced. To truly understand a genre of music or an artist, one must trace their influence.
We now stand on the verge of a new musical era; the days of rock and hip-hop dominating the radio are coming to an end. Now there are all sorts of new kinds of music; techno has been sweeping Europe for the past decade, and now dubstep looks to take over America. Where did these kinds of music come from, though? The recent rage over electronic music can be easily traced. The first major event to get the ball rolling was the invention of the electric guitar.
In 1931, Adolph Rickenbacker introduced the first patent to make a guitar that could be played through an electric amplifier. This invention was later improved with a solid body by Gibson Les Paul and Leo Fender (who actually came up with the idea first is widely debated) in 1941. The invention of the electric guitar was the first step in bring electronics into music. The next invention was similar to the guitar: the electric bass guitar. The electric bass was invented in 1947 by Leo Fender (that’s not debated). The invention of both these instruments may not seem important to modern day electronic music, but many inventions for the recording of these instrument are crucial to the start of electronic music. These inventions also got many music engineers and producers to start exploring other ways to make more instruments electronic.
The next invention to start the electronic era is obvious. In the 1940s, many people made claims to its invention including the Russian government; no one can say for certain when it was introduced or who made it, but in the 1940s the synthesizer was made. When the synthesizer first came out, most people didn’t even think to put it in music. The original synthesizer was made more for scientific experiments in order to understand sound waves rather than used for music. Then in 1958, Dr. Robert Moog, an American scientist, made some of his own modifications to the original synthesizer; he made it more “musically usable.” Dr. Moog added smoother tones and more keys to make it easy to play.
Dr. Moog’s invention was not well received by most musicians. It would take years for his instrument to become more popular. In July 1965, a major event happened in the history of electronic music. A young graduate of the UCLA film school named Ray Manzarek was walking on Venice Beach in Los Angeles, when he came upon another UCLA film school graduate writing poetry. The man’s name was Jim Morrison, and that chance meeting was the creation of The Doors. The Doors put a demo together and managed to release it just two months after getting together. The demo was well received by the local Los Angeles crowd but got no national attention.
The Doors were revolutionary in their use of the Moog synthesizer, but before they could make it big another band had to pave the way. The Beach Boys were the first band to use a Moog synthesizer to break onto the charts. In October 1966, the Beach Boys released the single “Good Vibrations”; the song took 90 hours to complete and was at the time the most expensive song ever recorded, costing $40,000. It was the first song ever to be a number one hit using a Moog synthesizer. This opened the door for The Doors.
In November 1966, The Doors released their self-titled album; they also released their first single “Break on Through,” which did not have much radio success. The band decided to edit their seven-minute ballad “Light My Fire” down to three minutes, releasing it as their second radio single. “Light My Fire” achieved great radio success and brought The Doors popularity with the masses. Critics did not all find this new use of the synthesizer pleasing to the ear. Many critics complained that the synthesizer wasn’t a real instrument, that it took no skill to play, and that it sounded too spacey. The synthesizer had been used in songs before 1966, but no song with a synthesizer reached the popularity that “Good Vibrations” and “Light My Fire” did.
The Doors brought major attention to the use of the synthesizer as a lead instrument; they revolutionized the use of electronic music. The Beach Boys may have had the first hit using a synthesizer, but it was The Doors who really made it popular. Shortly after the release of The Doors’ album, other bands began to experiment with the synthesizer. The following year The Beatles released the album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band; the album has a few songs using the new electronic instrument, mainly on “A Day in the Life.”
Jim Morrison in a later interview before his death said, “I see a new era in music, a mix between the rock we have now and electronics. I see a single man using tapes and a keyboard being able to replace whole bands.” Morrison would never live to see his vision come true, but if one looks at modern day music, it has come. The modern day DJ only needs himself and a keyboard. Listen to dubstep or techno and see the advances in musical technology since the ’60s. Jim Morrison never got see what he started, but, nonetheless, it was the band he started that got the public interested in electronic music; The Beach Boys helped, but The Doors were the real original electronic band.
Murder, monsters, unity, and magic are all regularly seen on the exciting show Lost. Every episode either ends on a maddening cliff hanger or a warm feeling of love and peace among all the stranded people on the island. While Lost is intriguing and enjoyable to watch, there are many issues I have with the program.
A great deal of events or key things the show makes a point to center on are just not tied in well to the plot or just dropped all together. When Desmond Hume is first seen on the show, he is working out in the first hatch, makes breakfast, and then injects himself with some sort of serum from a cabinet. Again in the show, when Desmond runs away from the hatch and leaves the button-pushing to Locke and Shepherd, he grabs food and supplies, including the mysterious serum from the cabinet with a pneumatic injector. What the serum is used for is completely unknown. After continuing to watch Lost, no mention of this serum ever arose again. There was one point where a pneumatic injector was used to treat Claire’s sickness, but the serum used for the treatment was not the same as Desmond’s. The writers didn’t use the serum again or explain it for the rest of show, which I find annoying because they made such a point to film it and its use.
Michael’s son Walt was another writing error by the staff of Lost. He was abducted by “the Others” after Michael, Sawyer, and Jin tried to find the shipping lanes after constructing a raft out of bamboo and plane parts. While the abduction was occurring, “the Others” stated Walt was a special boy, and they had use for him. Later in the plot after Michael went out into the island alone to look for Walt, he was captured by “the Others.” They again told him his son Walt was a very special boy. Michael and Walt left the island soon after that incident, and Walt and his father were gone from the story for a while. Walt later resurfaced in a vision to John Locke and told him to finish his job. Why did John Lock see Walt and not someone else? For Locke to have seen the ghost of Boone would have made much more sense. Lock was actually close to Boone, not so much Walt. What was ever special about Walt in the beginning to merit abduction by “the Others”? These are the kind of gaps in the writing of Lost that reflect the writers’ negligence.
Throughout the Lost series was a main recurring theme: everyone is equal, and we can all get along no matter what our backgrounds are. Consider the evidence. In the plane crash is an Iraqi Muslim soldier, an American doctor, an American murderer, a conman, a crippled man, and a Korean couple as the main characters. As the show progressed, oftentimes the episodes would end playing slow inspiring music showing all of the characters looking out for each other, loving each other, living in harmony. In and of itself, it’s not a bad message; in fact, the opposite: it’s an inspiring message. What the writers of Lost were trying to do was show the pettiness of fighting over trifling things like race, background, or preferences. In the end we’re all human. The writers went too far when in the final episode of the final season they directly compared Eastern mysticism, Islam, and Christianity as equal. Jack Shepherd was talking with his father in the back room of the church in front of a stained glass window. On this window was a Christian cross, the Islamic crescent moon, the yin-yang, and the Star of David, among other religious symbols. They finally reached the crux of their main point: all religions are the same, and all paths lead to heaven, their heaven being unity and fellowship in their own personal heaven where nothing goes wrong for them. Christ said “I am the way, the truth and the life, and no one comes to the Father but through me.” The Bible clearly says that Christianity is the only way to salvation, yet the writers of Lost ignore that.
What is the bright light that must be guarded from misuse by evil mankind? No one ever knows. In fact, Jacob doesn’t even know what the bright light is, what it is used for, why it exists, and why it must be protected. Those same questions were asked enough by the characters themselves, but the customary responses were, “It doesn’t matter,” “We have to keep moving,” or “You’re not ready to know yet.” Ignoring the question all together was also another response. Did the writers just not want to explain it, or did they just not know what to make the light be without it being too absurd? Another loose end in the Lost plot, I suppose.
My biggest issue with the plot of Lost was the portrayal of Jacob’s brother, also the Black Smoke Monster, as evil. What has he done that’s so evil? He’s killed people, yes, but only because he was provoked to do so out of necessity. When Jacob and his brother were born, their mother was murdered by a woman on the island guarding this mysterious light in a cave. She raised the boys as her own, but then Jacob’s brother discovered the truth about his origins and tried to go back across the sea to his homeland. His mother’s murderer knocked him unconscious and destroyed his means of getting home. All that Jacob’s brother wanted to do was go to his real home, be with his real mother (impossible now since the woman killed her, for no reason at all, and if so, left unexplained) and see the world. Those were never bad things.
Jacob’s brother then killed his mother’s murderer and in turn was murdered by his own brother. If anyone is evil it should be Jacob. He was jealous of his brother because his fake mother loved him more than she did Jacob. Jacob threw his brother into the bright light, which turned him into the Black Smoke Monster (another fact unexplained). So, the main characters of Lost are being directed and ordered by Jacob, a man who killed his own brother out of a jealous rage because he avenged the death of their real mother and only wanted to go to his real home.
All in all, Lost is enjoyable, interesting, and a fun show to watch. Six seasons of 45-minute episodes with only these discrepancies is not that bad of a review. If you can’t stand dropped plot points then don’t watch it, because the end of the series will be a severe disappointment to you, and all the countless hours you’ve spent in watching it will seem like one big waste.
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