CAPTAIN MARVEL #20 JUNE 1970

A white-haired superhero cradles an infant amongst the ruins of a building. It's a dynamic, defiant pose, full or barely suppressed anger, his muscular frame threatens violent retribution. Behind five or more masked assailants emerge from the debris swinging an array of makeshift weapons. 'The hunter and the holocaust!' reads one caption, 'Back by popular demand,' reads another, 'the HERO who wouldn't DIE!' It's a glorious cover, courtesy of Gil Kane, oozing energy. The composition effectively draws the viewer's eye directly to the faces of the central figure cradling the unconscious child in his arms. Note the blazing eyes in the tilted head-- they are each the smallest of dots, yet they are the entire focus point of the image. The effect is utterly compelling, a clear case of the well-worn adage, 'less is more'.

 In my last HULK blog entry I commented on the fact that there were a number of references to prior events in the storyline. Issue 130 jumps on so far from the events of #129 that I was totally confused about what was happening. Not until several pages in does a handy caption box appear, pointing me directly at previous issues of another comic altogether. Which is how I now come to be writing about a comic I had no previous plans of reading, CAPTAIN MARVEL.

Or should I say 'The sensational new CAPTAIN MARVEL' as the character is heralded on the cover. For it comes as no surprise to me that in the world of superhero comics, modesty is not an effective marketing strategy. "You've come back, Captain Marvel--" shouts the owner of a green-gloved hand brandishing a heavy metal crow-bar, "Just in time to face-- The RAT PACK!"

Until I chanced upon this issue I understood Captain Marvel to be female. In the movie she's certainly female. And I've seen plenty of images of the comic version of her in the last couple of years or so to know that in the comics she's female. But of course this is the Captain Marvel of 50 years ago. And I'm beginning to understand that in superhero comics sometimes its the costume that stays the same while the person in it can change (I mean Batman's always Bruce Wayne right? Robin on the other hand...)

So I start reading CAPTAIN MARVEL #20 with very few preconceptions, very little knowledge except that the central character's is certainly not Brie Larson. It's written by Roy Thomas and Gil Kane is the artist throughout with inks by Dan Adkins.

The opening is great, employing what seems to be a common trope of this era of comics-- the pop singer. BATMAN #222 famously involves the caped crusader meeting a band based on The Beatles, GREEN ARROW #77 features a Bob Dylan inspired character. It stands to reason that a superhero might himself be a performer with a legion of adoring female fans.

 An ominous tone is established in the huge frame dominating page 2 of the story counterpointing the green-lit face of Rick Jones and the adoring fans with their outstretched hands against the caption warning of a 'quiet fury' which might signify 'nothing... or everything...' The lyrics Rick sings are like The Rolling Stones at their bleakest and most bittersweet late 60s zenith, describing the death of a young woman. The upturned faces of Rick and his fans with eyes closed and mouths open are open to dual interpretation. They are the faces of people suffering, in agony, at the point of death. One girl even has her hands over her ears. The others' outstretched hands reach for help, salvation. But these are also faces at the point of extreme pleasure and abandonment to everything else external to the moment. In other words their faces suggest the pleasure at the moment of orgasm. Which in the context of the songs' words subversively ties together the ideas of sex and death.

But one of my favourite panels from the entire issue follows immediately after. The girls, now satisfied, are coloured with warm browns and oranges in contrast with the ghastly bleached out white of the previous page. They voice their admiration for Rick, and just when you thought the creators have gone too far in hinting at the excesses of unbridled sensuality, they drop in a detail to appease the moral guardians as one wide-eyed girl gasps, "Boy, would I like a meaningful relationship with him!!"

So this is Rick Jones, a young man who following the performance doesn't meet up with what his promoter calls "the teeny-boppers" but needs time on his own to "get his own head in gear". And looking into a cracked mirror he labels himself a "nut" before a voice from the mirror speaks back to him and he is confronted by the superhero character from the cover, Mar-vell. 

And I'm back on the steep learning curve as I find out that Rick and Mar-vell are sort of two aspects of the same person. There are superheroes like Spiderman or Superman who retain their powers while not in their costumes, and there are characters like the Hulk who undergo a physical transformation to become powerful. Here is something different, two guys who seem to exist together at the same time albeit in different dimensions, but "switch atoms" to exchange places. 

Poor Rick is confused by the whole thing, and I learn through a two and a half page sequence that he has an intriguing backstory in which he appears to have been some kind of mascot for "the mighty Avengers" before becoming intrinsically linked with Mar-vell and thereby a superhero himself, Captain Marvel.

A few pages on and the decision is made to enlist the help of Bruce Banner to try to resolve the existential problem of one of the pair being perpetually trapped in the limbo of the Negative Zone. It's quite sophisticated stuff and I imagine older kids being intrigued by it in 1970, though the stop-start releasing of the CAPTAIN MARVEL title around this time that I've learnt about presumably suggests there weren't enough of them to secure it as a viable commercial enterprise.

Before he can locate Banner/The Hulk, Captain Marvel happens across The Rat Pack, the green suited nasties from the cover who are looting a tornado hit town. 

There follows a couple of pages of punching and throwing, before Marvel is torn between staying and helping the rescue services or resuming his quest for Banner. The role of the superhero, as in GREEN ARROW #76, is mused upon. There Green Lantern admonished Green Arrow for seeing the role as a game. Here Mar-vell opines that helping the vulnerable or endangered is "all that really matters", "not our names in the papers-- not a rock music career". He has exiled himself from his own people to dedicate his life to saving lives he reveals.

Any orgasmic energy Rick may have felt from the ecstatic audience at the start of the story, it is suggested, is misplaced. His destiny is not to be another Mick Jagger or Paul McCartney, but an Iron Man, a Captain America, a Thor. Or at least that's what the writer wants for him. It's almost post-modern in intent-- here we have a superhero character who hasn't gelled with readers in the same way as the aforementioned Avengers, he has had a go at being in "the big leagues" as a "supporting player" to quote the self-analysis presented earlier in the story. At that point Rick had asserted that he wanted "to carve out a life of my own" but Mar-vell goads him to accept "the burden which has been handed you" that together they will have the power to combat "the evil afoot on this planet". 

Being a superhero is not easy, not fun, but a burden. The conflict between the two characters is compelling stuff, a neat way of depicting an individual's inner turmoil in a similar way to what is done with The Hulk. Again, it's less likely to resound with readers wanting to see a big fight, but for me it's more satisfying story-telling.

Additionally, I really like the fact that Mar-vell can only stay outside of the Negative Zone for a maximum of three hours at a time before surrendering his position on Earth with Rick, adding a dramatic ticking-clock element to the character. Somewhat conveniently when the transformation occurs Rick winds up at the door of Bruce Banner's lab, but the insecure scientist immediately assumes he will have led The Avengers to him and transforms himself into The Hulk and we are left with a dramatic cliffhanger conclusion...

Mar-vell's urging that Rick is ready for the challenges of life as a superhero seem ill-conceived. He has narrowly avoided death in an Icarian falling from the sky, saved only by the former's efforts to maneuvre his descending alter-ego into 'a shallow desert stream'. And now he is about to be crushed by the massive form of an enraged green giant. It is hardly a vindication of Mar-vell's enthusiasm to act as a saviour for others. Or at least that's how the issue ends.

There's a lot in CAPTAIN MARVEL #20 to like. I know that following #21 the series was once again put on hiatus, but I also know that it then goes on to be revived several times with various changes that I am only most vaguely aware of, avoiding spoilers as much as I can as I look into the subject.

As I said earlier, this is something of a steep learning curve for me and if I didn't know it already then I am increasingly being made aware of the body of multiple narratives both the Marvel and DC universes offer. It's potentially quite daunting to jump in at the seemingly random point of Spring/Summer 1970, but exciting too and I am grateful for the tweets and comments I am already receiving pointing me in the right direction.

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