One of the most refreshing comic books I have read lately is the limited series Original Sins. A collection of shorts, each of the five issues contained a narrative featuring Young AvengersHulkling, Marvey Boy Noh-Varr, and Prodigy facing off against the Hood. The Original Sin story arc has to do with the strange cognitive dissonance set off by the detonation of one of the Watcher's eyeballs.
In the Young Avengers narrative tenement junkies have been zapped into a zombie state by being caught in the blast zone of the Watcher's eyeball. The Hood convinces the Young Avengers to try to save the brain-bleached junkies by building a "cerebro," a device that can scoop all the information out of their brains. Needless to say the Hood has ulterior motives.
I want to hypothesize that this visual style holds a key to deciphering the dire straits of our present age, or as Heracleitus philosophized, "The way up and the way down is one and the same."
Below are scans of eight pages from Original Sins #3:
Silver Surfer was introduced, like many of the characters that form the backbone of the Marvel corporate behemoth, in the pages of the 1960s Fantastic Four. He was the tragic, brooding, enslaved herald of planet-gobbling Galactus. Marvel's first "cosmic" comic-book hero, Silver Surfer captivated the Baby Boomers. A loner, a stranger, an alien, filled with regret and sorrow, Silver Surfer harnessed the power cosmic, riding the spaceways on his silver surfboard.
The 1960s were all about power -- explosive, mind-bending, colorful, no-holds-barred, live-or-die power, like a color TV Western high-noon gun fight. I realized this, felt this '60s indulgent Romantic feeling, on the bus on my way to a race last September when the garage rock classic, "To Die Alone" by The Bush (produced by Kim Fowley), shuffled on my iPod:
After the 1960s, the next period of great Silver Surfer popularity was the Grunge Age, the late 1980s/early 1990s.
A moment of mass social ferment that in hindsight is more indicative of neoliberalism's complete victory over social democracy and socialism (the collapse of the Soviet Union and the ascension of New Democrat Bill Clinton) than any lasting cultural monument, Grunge nonetheless instilled belief in youth (and I was one) that another world was possible.
I read The Silver Surfer and listened to Pearl Jam's Ten at the time. I displayed issue #48, the "Past Sins" issue, on the wall of my Washington Heights studio:
Now that Silver Surfer is back with his own vibrant title once again, does this herald another age of social ferment? I hope so. What is different about this latest iteration is how whimsical it is. The Silver Surfer is teamed with a twenty-something slacker/bed-&-breakfast hostess named Dawn Greenwood. Gone are the testosterone-driven tales of deep-space combat with super-powerful cosmic villains. The comic book as scripted by Dan Slott with art by Mike Allred and colors by Laura Allred reads more like an airy Golden Age fable.
And that is what is so perplexing about this new Silver Surfer. With the fracturing of Western Civilization -- digital technology dominating social consciousness, neoliberalism pauperizing the planet, murder and mayhem abounding, displaced persons in greater numbers at any time since World War Two -- the comic book appears to be an inversion of current events. Rather than translating our Zeitgeist into a heroic, cosmic narrative, as Silver Surfer has done in times past, Slott and Allred create a comic book that turns our present age upside down and inside out. This is a good thing, I think. The system is collapsing, and we need to break on through to the other side. Slott and Allred are giving a glimpse of what might be there waiting for us.
Below are seven scans from Silver Surfer #4, the cover and six interior pages. Surfer and Dawn return to Earth after a cosmic odyssey. Strange events are unfolding at Greenwood Inn.
