The books I read for this year are: Amazing Spider-Man, whatever books the
Hulk appeared in, Journey Into Mystery, Tales of Suspense, Avengers, Fantastic Four, and Uncanny X-Men.
In terms of the stories, all of the pieces were in place that we
recognize today: the heroes, the major villains (and a host of forgotten
ones), and their supporting casts. I knew the universe was pretty static,
but I wasn't expecting this extent.
In 1965, Marvel characters still barely qualify as such. Labels
substitute for backgrounds: doctor, scientist, disgruntled circus
performer, Communist. Motives begin and end with "because heroes", "I
would like to be rich", and "I just like being evil okay." Thor has a
signature formality to his speech, Cap a certain stolid patriotism, but
everyone else sounds like Stan Lee. Fine details of appearance
were restricted by the available printing technology. Character backgrounds are
sparse and mostly occupied by dead relatives.
It occurred to me that this might not be a deficiency if what
you're really after is reader self-insertion. It's not "good writing,"
but it gets a particular job done. Maybe if you're an adult writing
adult characters for an audience composed (or thought to be composed)
largely of pre-teens, maybe they assumed that any depth or significant
time spent on character problems out of costume would have been wasted.
I'm not even going to start on the state of their writing WRT women
at this point, or else I'll be here all day. I suppose I should be glad
that they had any women characters at all, and that they were allowed
to do something other than be taken hostage. I swant someone to
track down Stan Lee and find out why he stringently avoided the word "woman" in
favor of "female." Efforts to
set stories outside the US are cringe-inducing.
For all the crowds that showed up for Reed and Sue's wedding, the
universe feels thin; there isn't much of a supporting cast in any of the books. We see the teams
being domestic among themselves, fighting among themselves, and fighting
villains, but seldom interacting with anyone else on an ongoing basis.
Spider-Man does a better job of this than the rest of them, because he
spends so much time out of costume. Most of the
supporting cast for other solo books are dedicated to love
interest/triangles. So for Journey Into Mystery, Thor's got Jane and
he's got his family in Asgard, but a big chunk of the family scenes
revolve around the Jane Problem. Iron Man's supporting cast is just
Pepper and Happy. The Hulk doesn't have one at all.
Captain America has Bucky in past-set stories, and Rick in present-day
stories, and that's it. Secondary characters shouldn't just be
there to be kidnapped, rescued, and mind-wiped; they add depth to a
setting and round out the main characters by letting us see them in a
variety of circumstances. That's missing.
Plots were rudimentary; for the most part, they didn't draw
out longer than two issues. Kind of funny to me that despite the serial
format--which has been used to produce some long-ass novels--they didn't trust either their medium or their audience
to support actual long-term stories. Bad guy appears (or breaks
out of jail, or gets hired by some other villain), attempts some crime.
There's a fight. After a more or less protracted exchange of
blows/fire, a defeat and retrenchment, the hero wins the fight. Almost
everyone has a romantic interest or two, and Peter and Tony have
recurring job woes, but it's more furniture than plot, because nothing
significant happens as a result of these features (other than the
creation of the Scorpion, I suppose). The Hulk, oddly, got some of the
most intricate and extended sequences, but his characterization was all
over the place. It took forever to find a place for Captain America as
anything beyond a Nazi-puncher.
I'm told that I should be judging these books against what had gone
before, and against their DC contemporaries, which would make it clear
where Marvel was breaking ground in art and story, but there are limits to
how much time I'm willing to put into this project. I see flashes of
promise, and I quite like some of the art, but in terms of story-telling
I'm calling this bad to mediocre.
So that was 1965.
You have not cringed until you've read some of the Teen Titans' dialogue from the '60s. (They got their own title in 1966 but appeared in other mags in '65.)
ReplyDeleteI'll take your word for it. :) I'm sure there's lot of stuff I'm missing!
ReplyDelete