Complementary Distribution
At roughly the same time Englehart was writing the Doctor Strange solo title, he was also scripting, and eventually, plotting another cosmic hero: Captain Marvel (1974-1976). Created in 1967 by Stan Lee [1] , Captain Marvel was initially more important as evidence for a copyright claim than as an actual superhero. The history of the various Captain Marvels is quite convoluted, and we need not go into it here. The original Fawcett character was no longer being published, and Marvel Comics had an obvious incentive in owning a character with “Marvel” in his name.
Lee and Kirby had just introduced the alien race known as the Kree a few months earlier, in Fanatstic Four 65 (August 1967), and now this new character was part of a Kree mission to Earth: Captain Mar-vell (get it?) arrived on our planet to spy for his people. His early adventures have little to recommend them on their own merits, but did introduce or develop concepts that proved important to Marvel in general and the present study in particular. [2] The Kree proved to be one of the most important alien empires in the Marvel Universe, playing a crucial role in Englehart’s own adventures.
It took years for the character to catch on, and his book was plagued by poor sales. Roy Thomas and Gil Kane modernized his costume and changed his status quo in issue 17 (October 1969), but the series was cancelled a few issues later (issue 21, August 1970). Mar-vell and his new sidekick (more about him in a bit) played a key role in the classic Kree-Skrull War (Avengers 89-97, also written by Thomas). The series was revived with issue 22 in March 1973, but only hit it stride once writer/artist Jim Starlin took over (issues 25-34) (March 1973-September 1974).
The key feature of Thomas’ revamp would be an important part of most of Mar-Vell’s adventures in his solo title: the inclusion of eternal Marvel sidekick Rick Jones. Initially attached to the Hulk before doing a stint as a replacement for Captain America’s long-dead partner Bucky, Rick became molecularly bonded with Mar-vell thanks to the intervention of the Kree Superme Intelligence. Mar-vell was trapped in the Negative Zone, and the only way to free him was to don a pair of golden “Nega-Bands,” clap them together, and change places with him for a period of three hours.
To comics readers, this new status quo was suspiciously familiar. Roy Thomas was fixated on Golden Age superhero characters (eventually writing World War II superhero adventures for both Marvel and DC), and he seems to have found the parallels between Mar-vell and the original Fawcett Captain Marvel too hard to resist. That Captain Marvel was actually a boy named Billy Batson, who, when he said the name “Shazam,” turned into a super-powered adult whose powers and physique were so reminiscent of Superman as to spark a lawsuit.
Starlin used Captain Marvel as a vehicle for delivering a number of concepts he had been developing on his own for years, most notably the series’ new villain, Thanos (now world-famous from the Avengers movies). Suddenly Captain Marvel was an exciting and unpredictable title whose scope far exceeded that of the standard superhero fare. “Cosmic” in its subject matter (interstellar warfare), it shared Englehart’s own interest in expanded consciousness and higher realities. Starlin, who had already worked with Englehart on Master of Kung Fu, was initially uncertain of his writing abilities, and asked Englehart to script his last two issues on the book (the end of the Thanos storyline, plus an earth-bound adventure that sowed the seeds for the next storyline). When Starlin left the book altogether, Englehart took over, with Al Milgrom on the art chores (and also serving as co-plotter).
Starlin had elevated Mar-Vell from his status as ex-solider to the more exalted title of “Protector of the Universe;” a godlike being named Eon granted him new abilities, including something called “cosmic awareness.” But Englehart, though an admirer of Starlin’s revitalization of the Captain's comic, still felt that there was room to develop Mar-vell further. In particular, as he writes in his introduction to the Marvel Masterworks edition containing his stories, he found the protagonist to be too “reactive.” Meanwhile, he was fascinated by the relationship between Mar-vell and Rick Jones, who did more than take each other’s place in the Negative Zone; their minds were linked together, which meant they never had any privacy. This would be Englehart’s hook: the bond between Rick and Mar-vell, and its effects on their very selfhood.
That bond turned out to have a great deal of untapped potential. The analogy to Billy Batson and Fawcett’s Captain Marvel is obvious, but the Marvel Comics version added several layers of complexity. Billy Batson and the “World’s Mightiest Mortal” are simply different manifestations of the same consciousness, while Rick Jones and Mar-vell each have well-established separate identities before they are forced together. The great cliché of the superhero’s secret identity is that the civilian and the hero cannot be seen together (“Clark, why is it that you’re never around when Superman is here?”); in this case, the cliché is made literal: Rick and Mar-Vell have to take turns leaving the Negative Zone and wearing the Nega-Bands. At the same time, they are in near-constant communication; the artists often draw one of them in the positive cosmos and the other as a head floating over his shoulder, seen only by his partner and the reader.
Starlin leaves the book with Mar-vell lying unconscious, poisoned by nerve gas. [3] Engelhart turns a comatose protagonist into a narrative opportunity: with Mar-Vell unconscious until the very last page, Rick is left not only to carry the story, but to animate the hero. Rick discovers that, through their mental link, he can make Captain Marvel’s body move, deploying his powers in one fight in the Negative Zone and another in our world. Considering Englehart’s later complaint that Mar-vell was too reactive, it is fitting that Englehart’s first post-Starlin story requires that the hero’s partner use his mindless body like a puppet:
“I saw very clearly that Mar-Vell had a reactionary nature—not in the sense of right-wing politics, but in the sense of…reacting. He rarely seemed to take the initiative in situations, preferring to remain primarily an observer while others did things to him, until he was pressed so hard he had to fight free. This was primarily a function of his being joined at the lobe to Rick, so he was unable to make any decision without taking Rick’s well-being into account."
Though the contrast will only be explored in subsequent stories, Issue 35 is an exaggeration of the dynamic underlying the Rick/Mar-Vell relationship. Mar-Vell is mature, deliberate, and controlled, while Rick is impulsive and overactive. Though the context could not be more distant, the opposition between Rick and Mar-Vell resembles the master plot of Soviet socialist realism, as elaborated by the scholar Katerina Clark. Socialist realism allegorizes the dialect of spontaneity and consciousness. Spontaneity is the active, impulsive efforts of a protagonist whose general goals align with socialism, but who has not developed a sophisticated understanding of the system, and has not fully incorporated himself within the structures that govern his world. The superviorsry authorities and bureaucracy represent consciousness, the full understanding of socialism’s mission, but have a weakness for procedurals and a tendency towards inertia. The socialist realist master plot uses the hero’s journey from spontaneity to consciousness not only as an example to the reader, but as a metaphor for the revolutionary process itself,
Of course, Captain Marvel is not socialist realism; if it were, its sales would have been even lower. But the spontaneity/conciousness dialectic, despite its roots in Soviet socialist thought, is surprisingly applicable to American mass culture, in particular to trends that took off in the 1970s. One of the most successful formulae for wedding activism to crowd-pleasing is the story of the lone crusader or whistleblower who starts out apolitical, discovers an injustice, starts out fighting for a relatively narrow cause before joining or founding an organization to combat the problem on a larger scale (Norma Rae, Silkwood, Erin Brockovich, dozens of televised “Movies of the Week”). In American entertainment, the role played by socialism in Soviet culture is filled by environmentalism, feminism, civil rights, or the fight against corporate or governmental corruption.
Englehart’s first Captain Marvel storyline dealt with this dynamic on two fronts. First, it put Captain Marvel in conflict with the Marvel character who superficially embodied passivity, but who observed the ideal of non-interference primarily in the breach: Uatu, the Watcher. Introduced by Lee and Kirby in an early issue of the Fantastic Four, Uatu is a member of a godlike race whose disastrous history led them to swear off all direct involvement with other species, choosing to observe them instead. Motivated by jealousy of Captain Marvel’s heroism, Uatu lets Mar-Vell’s enemies, the Lunatic Legion, use his home on the moon as a base from which to launch their attacks. Once the Legion is defeated, Uatu returns to his homework for judgement, followed by Mar-Vell and Rick, who want to defend him at his trial.
As is so often the case in Englehart’s “Cosmic” adventures, the real drama here is both interpersonal and, thanks to the strange bond between Rick and Mar-Vell, internal. Mar-Vell can fly to the moon under his own power, but he has to switch places with Rick every three hours. The trip will be long, Rick might miss an upcoming performance (he’s a budding rock star), and Mar-Vell gets him a space suit so he can survive during the Captain’s intervals in the Negative Zone. Before they depart, Rick complains to Mar-Vell that he has lost all privacy, to which Mar-Vell responds “It’s only that our minds seem to be growing more closely linked, more symbiotic, as time goes by—and I’m beginning to truly know you.” Rick does not want this kind of closeness, and resents both the imposition on his time and the fact that the more mature Mar-Vell is “always right.”
Their argument is sparked by an intriguing exchange between Rick and his back-up singer, Dandy, who gives him a pill as a present (“in case your ‘personal thing’ gets boring!”). Rick hems and haws, and Dandy responses that it is “Vitamin C, Kid. What do you think it is ?” Later, overcome by boredom in the Negative Zone, Rick finds the pill: “Wellll…she said it was Vitamin C!” And takes it.
Obviously, the writer who dropped acid to plot Doctor Strange stories had something else in mind. But despite all the winks and nods accompanying the repeated invocations of “Vitamin C,” the story somehow got approved by the Comics Code, and soon Rick’s journey to the moon became a trip through the doors of perception.[4] Unfortunately for Mar-Vell, the drug also has an effect on him. When he lands on the moon, he stumbles. Or, in other words, he trips. At first he thinks he might be coming down with something (“Perhaps I should have borrowed Rick’s Vitamin C.”), but soon he is completely incapacitated by the disorienting visual imagery and debilitating physical sensations channeled coming at him through his link to Rick. The Watcher defeats him in a one-sided battle.
When he awakens, Mar-Vell quickly throws off the effects of his contact high thanks to his cosmic awareness, and discovers that he and Rick are now fundamentally changed: “We’re more than the same person! / We’re the sum of our parts—/ and then some!” When Rick also wakes up, Mar-Vell explains their new status quo while still engaged in a physical battle against the Lunatic Legion. The ensuing two pages are quintessentially Marvel: drawings of punching and kicking accompanied by a complex dialogue on an unrelated topic. Rick and Mar-Vell talk about their enhanced bond and even make their peace with it while Mar-Vell simultaneously hits one opponent in the head, elbows another in the jaw, and kicks a third in the face. The (temporary) resolution of the Rick/Mar-Vell conflict plays out against the backdrop of intense physical violence.
Just as Doctor Strange’s path to enlightenment is more of a spiral than a straight line, the bond between Mar-Vell and Rick strengthens thanks to continual rupture. No sooner have they reached a greater mutual understanding than do they discover the ability to break free of the Negative Zone and co-exist in the positive cosmos (Issue 39). They are both present at the Watcher’s trial (for breaking his people’s law against interfering with less advanced civilizations), and both continue to behave in keeping with their customary roles. Mar-Vell is reactive, while Rick is the one who talks him into following Uatu in the first place and also comes to Mar-Vell’s rescue when he is attacked by a local monster.
Notes
[1] Gene Colan drew the comic, but denied any authorship of this character whom he didn’t particularly like.
[2] Carol Danvers, who eventually became Ms. Marvel and, more recently, Captain Marvel, debuted along with Mar-well.
[3] Years later, it is revealed that the nerve gas gave Mar-fell cancer, causing his eventual death.
[4] Reading this story as a child, I assumed that the Negative Zone had unanticipated effects on the metabolization of Vitamin C.