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"And there came a day when earth's mightiest heroes found themselves united against a common threat! On that day, the Avengers were born -- to fight the foes no single hero could withstand!"
For other Avengers appearances see
Aladdin Effect, Black
Panther: Enemy of the State, The Life
of Captain Marvel, Marvels, Son
of Origins, some Fantastic Four collections,
X-Men
collections, and Daredevil collections, and various
others
All Avengers GNs/TPB published by Marvel Comics
Essential Avengers vol. 3 2001 (SC TPB) 508 pages
Written by Roy Thomas. Pencils by John Buscema with Gene
Colan, Barry Smith (and George Tuska, Don Heck, Werner Roth, Sal Buscema).
Inks by various.
Colour: B&W. Letters: various. Editor: Stan Lee.
Reprinting: The Avengers (1st series) #47-68, Annual #2 (1967-1968)
Additional notes: covers; a text piece detailing the history of the Avengers (though obviously reprinted from an earlier source, as it's not up-to-date)
Rating: * * * (out of 5)
Number of readings: 1
Marvel's Essential books are a handy way to collect huge chunks of old comics that, otherwise, would be hard to track down and pretty pricey to boot. The only downside is that, in order to make then so darn economical (500 pages for the same price as a regular TPB of less than 200 pages), they're in black and white.
The third Avengers book collects almost two years of Avengers issues in their entirety (these issues had previously been reprinted in the late 1970s/early 1980s in reprint comics like Marvel Super Action and Marvel Triple Action, but usually edited to fit a smaller page count). This run of Avengers is O.K. with some noteworthy tales, but it's not exactly an unbroken stream of riveting escapades.
The art can't be faulted, with John Buscema delivering most of the pages with his mix of elegance and robustness, realism and idealism, while other artists -- including Gene Colan and Barry Windsor Smith -- contribute here and there. Admittedly, though, this is the first of these books where I really felt the absence of colour hurt it. Maybe Buscema's art takes to colour better, or maybe, with a team book featuring various colourfully garbed characters, the absence of colour is more obvious.
Despite coming on the heels of Avengers #46, which I had a reprint of from my youth (in the above mentioned Marvel Triple Action) -- a tale that seemed rife with the kind off character angst and human drama that defined the Marvel Age -- too many of these tales are pretty light weight, as the Avengers go from one knock-down/drag-out battle to another. Nor is there a lot in the way of sub-plots -- something that can make these Essential books really fun, as you can follow an unfolding story to its end. Writer Roy Thomas throws in the odd character bit, or plot thread, but doesn't always seem to follow through on it. The Wasp's chauffeur, for example, is secretly the villain Whirlwind, which we are reminded of in a few issues...then that sub-plot disappears about half way through. I don't know if Thomas eventually did something with it, or whether he forgot about it entirely.
The stand out tale is Avengers Annual #2, ironically, not drawn by Buscema but the more modest talents of Don Heck and Werner Roth. They tell the tale competently enough -- and what a tale! Following on the heels of the previous issue (though only indirectly connected) the current Avengers find themselves in an alternate timeline where the original Avengers have set themselves up as (well intentioned) dictators. Eerie, moody, with the flavour of DC's alternate reality Elseworlds stories, and anticipating such moral debates as raised by Squadron Supreme, it's off-beat amd quite gripping for the most part.
Other solid stories include a two-part battle with the Masters of Evil (#54-55), given a dramatic kick in the pants by the Avengers seeming being betrayed by Jarvis, their butler (and Thomas doesn't use a cop out solution). As well there's the introduction of the Vision in a couple of effective stories (#57 and 58 -- each self-contained, but inter-connected). There's the encounter with the villainous Yellowjack (#59-60) that poses intriguing questions as it unfolds (which, admittedly, are less so if you know your Avengers history). Because so many issues are reprinted, the book features not just the first appearance of arch foe, Ultron, but a couple of later appearances that flesh out his background and abilities.
The book closes with two above average trilogies. The first (#63-65), giving background to Hawkeye, and throwing in a touch of pathos, is good as a story, but it really scores because of Gene Colan's art. His beautifully fluid, unique style might at first seem like an unusual choice for the iconic Avengers, but there's a visual panache that even Buscema's issues don't match. The closing saga is drawn by a young Barry Smith in a style that goes for a Jack Kirby-esque blockiness that is surprisingly effective (and unrecognizable compared to his later style), with Sal Buscema (John's brother) furnishing the finale issue. It sees the return of Ultron in a big way, cranking up the angst and character conflict within the team as they are betrayed by the Vision. The ending is a bit simple, but it's pretty exciting, evoking the kind of earth shattering threats the Avengers, overall, are known for.
As noted though, there are a lot of undistinguished stories here, though that doesn't make them bad. Just...undistinguished, reflecting too much the simplicity of the times. Though, looking at my above mentioned favs, clearly things get better as they go along.
In addition to introducing the Vision and Ultron, this features the first appearance of the hero, Black Knight, and the villain, the Grim Reaper, plus the Black Panther joins the team, and Hawkeye becomes Goliath II and other keystone events. The membership roster shifts here and there. The team is mainly comprised of Hawkeye, The Wasp, Hank Pym (under various guises), the Black Panther, and the Vision, with other stalwarts like Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, the Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, Hercules, and the Black Knight sticking around for a few adventures here and there. As well as occasional guest stars...although a guest appearance by the X-Men is problematic as it continues from a story in their own comic (at least it isn't continued into the X-Men!) -- an issue not included here (at least, not in the first printing).
In the end, this third volume of Avengers stories should satisfy Avengers collectors, and there are enough decent reads to make it reasonably enjoyable. But "essential" reading? Maybe not quite.
Cover price: $21.95 CDN./ $14.95 USA.
The Avengers: Celestial Madonna 2002 (SC TPB) 224 pages.
Written by Steve Englehart, Roy Thomas. Pencils by Sal Buscema, Dave Cockrum, with Don Heck, George Tuska. Inks by Joe Staton, others.
Colours: various: Letters: Tom Orzechowski, others. Editor: Roy Thomas, Len Wein.
Reprinting: The Avengers (1st series) #129-135, Giant-Size Avengers #2-4 (1974-1975); with covers.
Rating: * * * * 1/2 (our of 5)
Number of readings: 2
The Avengers learn one of their members, the Vietnamese-born Mantis, is destined to become some cosmically significant mother to a super being. The time travelling villan, Kang the Conqueror, is aware of the prophecy and determined to kidnap Mantis, so that he may take charge of any progeny -- and tries and tries again in this collection. In between, the Avengers and Mantis seek to unravel the contradictions inherent in Mantis' origin as they learn some of her previous memories aren't wholly accurate. The truth takes them, as ethereal observers, to the beginning of time and the origin of the never ending war between the two alien races, the Kree and the Skrull. In a sub-plot, the Scarlet Witch has been practising her sorcerous powers...and seems to be taking a turn toward the dark side. And the Vision travels through time to unravel the mysteries of his own origin. As well, an Avenger dies -- in a surprisingly effective scene -- the Vision and the Scarlet Witch get married, and a few other things crop up along the way (like a one issue tussle with the Crimson Dynamo and a few of his East Bloc buddies, plus appearances by Rama Tut, Immortus and Captain America in his early '70s alter ego of Nomad).
Whew! Best of all, the disparate threads all come to a head by the end of this collection.
Celestial Madonna is one of those old school epics that are fun precisely because it's comprised of smaller two or three issue story arcs. It forms one saga, but there's enough new things happening to keep it fresh and unexpected, not unlike the Avengers: The Kree/Skrull War and The Life of Captain Marvel. Celestial Madonna isn't quite on the same level as those, lacking the socio-political edge of the former and the cosmic awe of the latter -- though it tries. In fact, it's odd that it doesn't "feel" quite as epic in scope, despite dealing with grand concepts and is steeped in a kind of ineffable cosmic mysticism. Though maybe that's the problem, the stories tend to be extremely personal to the characters (Mantis, the Vision) while the "cosmic" aspects are maybe just a little too wooly headed and vague in their mysticism.
Regardless, it's still highly enjoyable, doing the usual mixing of comicbooky action and adventure, with soap opera-y character stuff, cosmic plot threads, witty wisecracks and highfalutin' philosophizing.
Collected some thirty years after it first saw print, and tied as it is into so much of past Marvel Universe history, I couldn't help thinking an introductory essay -- "for those who came in late" -- would've been in order, particularly as the saga begins with the action already starting. After all, modern readers might be asking: "Who's Mantis? What's going on?" But, to be fair, most of the initial confusion is dispelled as the story progresses, filling in the blanks as we go (helped by the fact that Hawkeye rejoins the group and conveniently acts as the reader's surrogate by demanding explanations).
The early stuff is high octane entertainment, mixing, as noted, grandiose ideas with fisticuffs, anchored by a nice feel for these characters. Despite their super powers and their earth shattering conflicts, the Avengers work best because the characters are very human (even when they're a Norse god or an android), and the scenes are filtered through their emotions, their doubts, their passions. The whole "feet of clay" that represented the Marvel Age. Iron Man can take time in the middle of a scene to briefly lament his former career as an arms making industrialist. The Swordsman is a bit of a loser, woefully out of his element playing on this A-team. While Mantis herself starts out as a surprisingly cold hearted, selfish character who breaks the Swordsman's heart while making a play for the Vision, even knowing the Vision is committed to the Scarlet Witch. Of course, having Mantis refer to herself in the third person ("this one") seems a bit odd and one can't decide if writer Englehart learned all he knows of the Far East from watching Charlie Chan movies or, to be fair, whether her speech patterns owe more to her upbringing in a mystic temple than her nationality.
I often like comics stories that blatantly reflect their period, such as the use here of Vietnam (even if it raises technical questions about how come super heroes like these haven't aged in thirty years). Though a scene where the Swordsman, in an Avengers jet, gets into a shoot-out with the Egyptian air force after violating Egyptian air space smacks of an unfortunate imperialism on the part of the creators (I mean, would a hero shoot down American jets over a misunderstanding?)
Regarding the action-adventure stuff: the first battle with Kang takes them from New York to an Egyptian pyramid and beyond; while another epic conflict has them in a timeless limbo battling resurrected dead foes (in a story that reminded me of the much later The Avengers #352-354 -- and it's a mark of the good ol' story telling at work here that the similarity didn't diminish this original's effectiveness one bit). It's all fast-paced, exciting stuff yet, thanks to the attention to character (to which I alluded), the action rarely seems like just boring fisticuffs.
The saga becomes a bit problematic as we get into the actually unravelling of the origin stories, as it require the characters to simply be observers. That part of the saga has its own appeal though, particularly when the Avengers witness the beginnings of the Kree race, and this super hero comic takes on a science fiction feel (and there's the intriguing, more realistic idea that the perennially evil Skrulls were, once upon a time, not such a bad lot).
Although the climax of the Celestial Madonna aspect seems a bit of a let down, and unfortunately the grand finale issue (Giant-Size Avengers #4), where everything comes together, is actually the least compelling of the issues. I think mayhap it's because it's trying to do too much and is a bit too top heavy with verbiage and exposition...something which is true of the saga overall in the later issues. It also features the least effective art of the entire collection.
The art on the epic is a mixed bag. The lion's share is done by Sal Buscema, with Joe Staton on inks, with Dave Cockrum doing a couple of the Giant-Size issues (the regular Avengers and the Giant-Size Avengers were treated as one series, so story arcs begun in the regular comic usually climaxed in a Giant-Size issue). Don Heck provides the saga's conclusion in Giant-Size #4, and Heck is probably not regarded as an A-list artist at the best of times, and the art here seems particularly slapdash occasionally, with inker John Tartag providing a rather crude and thick lined coating. Going into this, probably my favourite artist of the group was George Tuska, who only does one issue, and even his work seems a bit rushed, not helped by the inking job (but still good). The point is, there's nothing exactly breathtaking about the art...at the same time, there is a kind of clean, efficient, tell-the-story approach to the style that is appealing. It keeps the focus where it should be: on the story and the characters. And the Buscema-Staton combo emerges as perhaps the best.
Of course there's so much about this saga that's evocative, having been used before and since, such as tying it into the Kree-Skrull conflict, or the old "character must sift through the contradictory origin stories they've been told in past issues" (such as in the later Yesterday's Quest). But that's kind of what makes this such a quintessentially Avengers-esque epic. And so many of the villains, heroes, and cameos are all drawn from past adventures -- but at least they are properly annotated. A novice reader might find the reliance on flashbacks and references a bit daunting, but I think this saga does better than many in explaining things as you go for the uninitiated. I knew some of this stuff, true, but there was plenty of stuff I didn't (including everything surrounding Mantis, a character I'd barely glimpsed previously) but I found it easy enough to follow and become involved in.
As I said earlier, as classic early 1970s Marvel sagas go, Celestial Madonna maybe isn't in the absolute top -- but it's still an exciting, intriguing, and thoroughly entertaining epic. Decades later, Steve Englehart returned to the team and penned a sequel of sorts collected as The Avengers: The Celestial Quest.
Cover price: $__ CDN./ $19.95 USA.
The Avengers: The Kree-Skrull War 2000 (SC TPB) 200 pgs.
Written
by Roy Thomas. Pencils by Sal Buscema, Neal Adams, John Buscema. Inks by
Tom Palmer, George Roussos, Sal Buscema.
Colours/letters: various. Editor: Stan Lee
Reprinting: The Avengers (1st series) #89-97 (1971)
Rating: * * * * * (out of 5)
Number of readings: 2
This review, in a slightly altered form, was originally posted at the science fiction webzine, Strange Horizons. As such, it was intended for a readership that wasn't necessarily specifically a comicbook readership.
The Avengers: The Kree-Skrull War collects in Trade Paperback form, for the first time in its entirety, the comic book saga that details how the Avengers and earth become embroiled in a conflict between two warring alien races. It was one of those touchstone sagas that fans continued to refer to in letters pages years after it first appeared.
Long considered a disposable medium, even by those who toiled in the profession, comic books have seen a shift in the last decade and a half toward the belief that stories are worth repackaging and reprinting. The boom in comic book Trade Paperbacks (book-format collections of comics) has become a popular second industry in comics. But just as, for a while, you were more likely to find the latest action movie given a prestigious DVD treatment before you'd find an old film classic, TPBs are often used to collect newer storylines, rather than re-presenting old stories that might be deemed unappealing to the tastes of modern readers. Given that editorial climate, it's unsurprising that Marvel has only recently collected the Kree-Skrull War, almost thirty years after it first saw print.
The story is a surprisingly convoluted tale, less a consistent narrative than various stories layered one on top of the other, forming a greater whole. The saga hits the ground running with the Avengers seeking to capture super hero Captain Marvel (not the Shazam! guy, the other Captain Marvel) -- the good captain being unaware that he poses a public danger thanks to having been recently subjected to a dose of radiation. This segues into a story in which the alien Kree attempt to literally devolve humanity. These three issues are largely unspectacular -- fast-paced to be sure, brimming over with grandiose ideas (the first issue alone would probably be stretched over two or three comics today), with some nice character angst involving Captain Marvel's sidekick, Rick Jones, feeling like a Judas for having aided in his capture (even if it was for his own good). But overall, it's colourful action devoid of much depth. Those opening issues can lull you into a sense of complacency. After all, one might ask smugly, what can you expect from 30 year old comics? They're kid's stuff!
Then writer Roy Thomas hits his stride with the fourth issue when a corpulent Senator chairs an investigating committee into possible alien infiltration. Captain Marvel, you see, is a Kree himself, and instantly becomes a suspect, as do the Avengers for providing him sanctuary. Suddenly the four-colour heroics are stripped brazenly away to reveal a gritty parallel to the 1950s House Un-American Activities Commission and characters refer critically to Japanese-American relocation centres. Then the android, The Vision, remarks: "If first a man of the Kree can by detained for no reason, the detainment of androids will follow -- next mutants -- then giants..." To science fiction fans, accustomed to the parables that are the idiom's bread and butter, it's understood that the Vision isn't really talking about mythical alien races or fabricated minorities at all.
Though comic books have long been considered, at best, a minor diversion, or fit only for kids, even Hollywood movies or TV rarely acknowledged there had ever been HUAC until a few years after this story first saw print. Granted, Thomas is playing in the somewhat protected sandbox of allegory, never referring to the McCarthy hearings by name, but it remains significant.
The characterization and angst becomes better realized as well, introducing, among other things, the beginnings of the romance between the dispassionate android, The Vision, and the passionate Jewish-Gypsy, The Scarlet Witch, that would be a mainstay of the title for years to come. The characters emerge with quirks and individuality, capable of doubts and fears, pig-headedness and self-sacrifice. The Vision's attraction to the Scarlet Witch, for instance, provides a subtle irony: his awakening to his own (unspoken) emotions seems to isolate the character even more from his peers. The writing veers from poetical text pieces, to characters who speak in Elizabethan English, to others bantering in American (1960s) slang, tossing out pop culture references left and right (long before Quentin Tarantino, comic book writers realized a character can seem more real if he's seen the same movies the reader has).
The racism metaphors and character interplay provide genuine depth and grounding to the saga, but first and foremost, this is meant to be fun entertainment. For those unused to the medium, it might be difficult to quite get into it, to allow ones self to be swept up in the necessarily curt scenes and exclamation points, the thought balloons spelling out motivation or the way characters can deliver entire monologues while throwing a single punch. But comics is a language with its own tools, perhaps best likened to poetry -- another "mannered" medium that requires some adjustments on the part of the reader in order to appreciate. Put another way, even in the Renaissance it's unlikely anyone spoke as they do in a William Shakespeare play, spontaneously delivering metered speeches utilizing elaborate similes. But one doesn't dismiss the truth of his work because the reality is suspect.
If ideas were trees, Roy Thomas could be accused of clear-cutting. He ruthlessly throws in idea after idea, constantly adding new elements and twists as the various schemes of the Skrulls, the Kree, and the xenophobic Senator weave in and out of each other. The saga leaps from New York to Florida's Cape Canaveral, from a prehistoric jungle in the Arctic to a city in the Himalayas, from the inner workings of the Vision's body to alien armadas at the far reaches of a distant galaxy, tossing in other super heroes like The Fantastic Four and The Inhumans as it goes along. Along the way, Thomas evokes classic science fiction ideas, from "The Fantastic Voyage" (in a memorable, visually eye-popping sequence as a character journeys through the Vision's comatose body), to the paranoia of Jack Finney's The Body Snatchers (the Skrulls are shape-shifters), to esoteric ideas echoing Arthur C. Clarke's Childhood's End -- SF fans will even recognize chapter titles derived from SF classics. Thomas doesn't always fully develop his ideas, often discarding them as quickly as he introduced them. The logic is suspect in spots, and the coherence occasionally tenuous, but the result is a breathlessly-paced epic that never has time to become boring, or remotely predictable. It's written with the spirit of a movie serial, a budget that would break most Hollywood studios, and with socio-political rumination and thoughtful characterization mixing with pulpy adventure and larger-than-life heroics. This then is what comics can do best: an unashamed melange of highbrow and lowbrow, a mixing of milieus, that is rarely mimicked in any other medium.
The early issues (or chapters, if you prefer) are illustrated by Sal Buscema, an artist who has a decent eye for composing a scene (a comic book artist having to be co-director, cinematographer, film editor, set designer, all in one) and a solid grasp of anatomy. Yet I've never been that big a fan of his work. Still, it's a perfectly competent job. But then Neal Adams takes over (with Tom Palmer inking Adams' pencils). Adams is an industry legend who was just hitting his stride back then, with a dynamic eye for composing a scene and a softer, more organic approach to figures, etching out sinewy bodies and often eerily realistic faces. Visually, the comic becomes truly enthralling. Adams wasn't the business' fastest drawer, though, so the always effective John Buscema pinch-hitted in a few spots, including the epic's conclusion -- John being Sal's older, and arguably more accomplished, brother.
Comics largely pioneered the idea of continuing sub-plots that TV has adopted in the last decade or so. As such, the epic unfortunately ends with one minor plot thread still dangling, and throughout the story it interweaves threads from other comics, though there are enough flashbacks and recaps to help orient novice readers.
Modern comics fans like to believe that comics have become more sophisticated, that current fan-favourites like Alan Moore, Mark Waid, Neil Gaiman and Kurt Busiek write smarter, more mature stories. Although there is some truth to that, in other ways, and like everything aesthetic, it's in the eye of the beholder.
Roy Thomas' Kree-Skrull War is a mishmash of ideas and influences, veering from hokey and goofy, to surprisingly thoughtful and audaciously ambitious, never letting the socio-political ambitions trip up the pulpy adventure. Some modern writers in the medium make the mistake of confusing pretension with profundity -- not so Thomas. And he's got enough faith in his audience to mix the provocative with the pugilistic and assume we can understand which is which. And while modern critically acclaimed comic book classics like The Watchmen, Kingdom Come and Marvels tend to ask what would a world with super heroes really be like, such an approach has the danger of becoming self-obsessed, excluding any wider relevance. The Kree-Skrull War uses super heroes (at least in spots) more as a metaphor for real world dilemmas. Above all, the heroes are people. When Thomas' generation of comic book writers wrote about super-powered people, the emphasis tended to be on the people over the powers. And this re-presentation of this long ago epic maybe serves as a reminder that that's definitely a distinction with a difference.
Deliriously fun...and thought provoking. What more can you ask?
This is a review of the story as it was originally serialized in Avengers comics.
Cover price: __ CDN./$24.95 USA
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