Orpheus and Eurydice

 Recently, I went to see Gluck's Orpheus and Eurydice at the War Memorial Opera House. I deliberately did not read the program and therefore was surprised at how different from other conceptions of the Orpheus myth this performance was. Although program notes are often useful, particularly for stories with which I am less familiar, I believed that the Orpheus myth was familiar enough to not require extra reading. 

The first conspicuous element was the balletic component. Out of opera, symphony, and ballet, ballet is easily my least favorite, but here the ballet was well integrated into the music. This brings me to the second element - the repetition. Opera, by its nature, involves much repetition of themes and phrases, but this opera seemed to almost have a surfeit of repetition worthy of a Jesuit education. The first and second elements, however, worked together to create an effective impression of something as ineffable as the singing of the greatest singer who ever lived, whose song entranced implacable chthonic beings; such hyperbole is far easier to write than to render visually, 

The third element was the excellent use of color. Orpheus' vived red contrasted with the blacks and greys of the infernal denizens and the yelloe of Love. The shifting colors of the area currently spotlighted enhanced the music and the movement of the performers. I found it a great aid to my deficit of knowledge of reading ballet.

The fourth element was the change in the Orpheus myth from the "canon" (although any casual dive into Orphic texts suggests "anti-canon" might be a better term). The absence of Hades and Persephone was initially jarring/ The inclusion of Love as the divine character marked this as a version more focused on the internal components of the myth than the external. It also provided Orpheus with an ally and advisor, something which was lacking from the more "traditional" version, which I suppose is therefore an externalization of the usually internal components. The potentially successful rescue of Eurydice reminded me of Alcestis, but Eurydice's reluctance to return from the Shadowlands was reminiscent of Izanami and Izanagi; the tale of a bereft husband seeking his departed wife is as least as old as a migration into the Americas. Thus the reduction of the myth to a man, a woman, and their love might be more faithful than a more numerous cast.

Sorrow, son of Unrejoicing: Euripides' Bacchae and Linguistic Archaeology

 In approaching the end of Euripides' Bacchae, a parallelism that has struck me is the mother-son pairs on either side of the conflict of the play. Dionysus is the son of Semele, daughter of Cadmus; Pentheus is the son of Agaue (sic), daughter of Cadmus. Pentheus' name means "the one who sorrows," a connection explicitly made within the text of the play. The context and conflict of the play is the arrival of the Bacchic rite to Thebes and its hostile reception, so names which have meaning are conspicuous and may be names of roles assumed in the rites. Within the Bacchic rites, whoever assumes the role of Bacchus becomes Bacchus in a sense, so it is reasonable to assume that the principal opponent would have a similarly dual role. On the maternal side, Semele is associated with a number of earth goddesses such as Rhea and Doso (Demeter) and happens to match the name of the Thracian Earth Goddess Zmele (because Thracian was a satem language, whereas Greek was a centum language - see Russian 'zemlya' 'land' for a more familiar cognate), so Agaue's name and role should also be significant.  Agaue murders her son Pentheus under the influence of the god, but her name also has meaning. Agaue may well be derived from the root 'gawe-', 'rejoicing', which lies at the sourche of Latin 'gaudium', 'joy'. The Greek verb 'gauroomai' occurs in the text in the discussion of Agaue's behavior. 'Gauroomai' can be broken down as follows: '-omai' is the first person singular present middle ending and can be safely excised. This leaves 'gauro-', which is an adjective. If the component which makes it an adjective is removed, i.e. -ro-, all that is left is 'gau', the part shared with the name Agaue. The -e of Agaue is just the feminine ending, so the important part for analysis is Agau-, which is -gau- with a negative prefix A-. The name Agaue, therefore, means 'The Woman Who Does Not Rejoice', which is a thematically (and dramatically?) appropriate name of the mother of The Man Who Sorrows, Agaue changes from rejoicing when she is entranced to not rejoicing when she recognizes what she has done.

Heracles, Hercules, Why So Many Names

 The mightiest son of Zeus has many names, but the two most frequently used in modern media are Hercules and Heracles. The simple explanation for this is that the Romans used Hercules, while the Greeks used Heracles (or Herakles). That suffices, but it would not be a Wednesday Classics post if there were not greater depths to explore.

The original name of Herakles was Alkaios, the name of his paternal grandfather, Alkaios, son of Perseus. This genealogical connection is why Herakles is sometimes referred to as Alcides, “descendant of Alkaios.” Herakles’ mortal parents were Amphitryon, son of Alkaios, son of Perseus, and Alkmena, daughter of Elektryon, son of Perseus. Alkmena’s name shares a root with Alkaios which indicates strength, because names in myth and legend are often extremely on the nose. Alkaios, son of Amphitryon, was a target for Hera, the wife of Zeus. After baby Alkaios strangled the two serpents sent to kill him in the first days of his infancy, he was renamed Herakles, “glory of Hera,” in a futile attempt to appease the wrath of Hera by dedicating the baby to her. That is the mythological background for the name.

Greek is an Indo-European language with a pitch whose placement is not automatic and a distinction between long and short vowels. The pitch on the name Heracles appears on the final syllable of the name; the length pattern of the name was long-short-long, a cretic according to Greek metrical naming conventions. This name did not fit well into the dactylic pattern of epic poetry, so alternate names were often used for Heracles in poetry. The Greeks used the Greek alphabet, which did not have the letter C; Heracles in Greek is spelled with a K (kappa).

 The Greeks travelled and colonized much of the Mediterranean, including what is now Italy. In Italy the Greek colonists met the Etruscans, the dominant ethnic power of northern and mid-Italy. The Latin peoples, the speakers of Old Latin, were under the power of the Etruscans. The Etruscans borrowed and adapted the Greek alphabet to write their previously unwritten language.

The Etruscan language was quite different from the Greek language. The variety of the Greek alphabet which the Etruscans adopted had three velar sounds: kappa, qoppa, and gamma. Kappa and qoppa were like a hard C sound in English, although the Etruscans could hear a difference. Gamma was like a hard G sound in English. The difference between hard C and hard G in Greek is called voicing; it was something which the Etruscan language lacked. The result of this lack was that Etruscan heard G as C. At this point, with three letters for the same or similar sounds, many language adopters would have chosen one; Etruscan retained all three and distributed them in front of specific vowels. Qoppa (Q) appeared before U. Kappa (K) appeared before A. C, the gamma which was now identical in sound to K but had one less stroke, appeared before E. Due to its slightly easier writing, C gradually annexed the vocalic territories of K, including before I, the fourth vowel of the Etruscan language.

The speakers of Old Latin learned to write from the Etruscans. They therefore adopted the three varieties of hard C. Q was useful because QU was a frequent combination of consonants in Old Latin. Old Latin did not need both K and C and opted for the simpler of the two – except in the important time word Kalends and some names. Since C was always an English hard C, any Greek words with K could be spelled with C.

An alphabet was not all Etruscan and Old Latin shared. The languages were in a Sprachbund, a kind of linguistic marriage in which certain features are shared between unrelated languages. One of the features in the Etruscan-Old Latin Sprachbund was consistent stress (not pitch) on the first syllable of a word. Herakles, therefore, became Heracle in Etruscan, with initial syllable stress. A frequent result of initial syllable stress is a decrease in stress on non-initial syllables to the point that the vowels in those syllables disappear; thus Heracle became Hercle. This form lasted in Etruscan until its eventual extinction.

Old Latin, however, did not like this consonant cluster. Old Latin, unlike Etruscan, was also a member of the Indo-European language family. Old Latin had long and short vowel lengths, which underwent different changes in initial and non-initial position. This distinction is why the Latin verb ‘facio’ has the perfect passive participle ‘factus’, but the same root with the prefix ‘infacio’ has the perfect passive participle ‘infectus.’ In Old Latin as well as Etruscan, Heracle became Hercle, but Old Latin broke the cluster by inserting a vowel to produce Hercules – Old Latin shared many declensions with Greek and therefore requires the case ending -s to use the name Hercules. The name Hercules had the same metric value as Heracles; thus this difficulty remained unresolved.

Latin, the descendent of Old Latin, had a different set of stress rules, but these happen not to affect the name Hercules. Although the native name Hercules was preferred, the Greek borrowing Heracles (with Latin C rather than Greek kappa) was available. Poets were still stuck with an awkward name – especially because Latin, due to the initial stress period and the loss of non-initial syllables, had even less short syllables.

When the Western portion of the Empire fell, most knowledge of Greek was lost, while Latin retained its position as the language of the church and of administration. The name by which the son of Jupiter, “Jovis filius,” was known for millennia in the West was Hercules, in accordance with the use of Latin names for the Greco-Roman gods. This can be confirmed in the English poetic tradition, which favors initial stress. The Greek names were not unknown, but not preferred.

In more recent times, however, there was a movement to use the Greek names, or at least the Latin spelling of the Greek names, of mythological figures. Heracles became a more common sight than it had been previously, but it did not displace Hercules in the popular consciousness. The next step was the restoration of the kappa in the name Herakles. This is most common in relatively historical or realistic accounts. While Hercules and Heracles have co-existed for a long time, the use of the name Hercules in the scripture of the Mouse is an indicator of which name remains preeminent in English-speaking, and particularly American, popular culture.

War and Peace: Hypermetric Verse and Its Contrasting Uses in Aeneid Book One

Hypermetric verse is a phenomenon where the last syllable of the dactylic hexameter is potentially extrametrical because the dactylic hexameter must end in a dactyl and spondee; this error is resolved by elision of the extrametrical syllable by the initial vowel of the first syllable of the next line. Hypermetric verse, therefore, places a restriction on the following line, much as a mistake in game can limit the conditions by which one corrects their strategy. Hypermetric verse implies enjambment, but enjambment is not dependent on hypermetric verse, avoiding it altogether. Two examples of hypermetric verse are Aeneid 1.332-3 and 1.448-9; the intended effect of the hypermetric verse, however, is antithetical.

The first example (1.332-3) occurs in a speech in which Aeneas petitions his mother Venus, thinly disguised as an impossibly beautiful huntress.

 

iactemur, doceas. Ignari hominumque locorumque
erramus, vento huc vastis et fluctibus acti:

 

The -que is self-consciously hypermetric, as indicated by erramus, the first word of the second line. The use of hypermetric verse also augments the theme of lack of control and involuntary mobility, which is shown in the bracketing of the hypermetric verse by ‘ignari’ and ‘vento … acti’.

 

The second example (1.448-9) occurs in the context of Aeneas’ jealousy of the state of Dido’s Carthage, which is not complete but well-built enough to have a finished temple whereas Aeneas has yet to reach his destination.

 

aerea cui gradibus surgebant limina, nexaeque
aere trabes, foribus cardo stridebat aenis.

 

 

This completed temple is heavily composed of bronze, a metal associated with war. This metal is mentioned three times (aerea, aere, and aenis), creating an impression of unity. This unity is reinforced by reference to architectural features which connect and support (gradibus, trabes, cardo, limina, foribus). The word which hypermetricizes the verse, ‘nexaeque’, is a verb of joining. This example, in contrast to the preceding, uses hypermetric verse to emphasize control and stability. Both lines have identical metrics for the dactylic hexameter except for the hypermetric elision!  

 

One might be tempted to consider this unity and conformity a wholly good thing, but there are elements which suggest otherwise. The use of bronze, a martial metal, is a reminder of past and future conflicts. The metrical identity of the two lines could suggest an army on the march or a crippling lack of flexibility, on the part of peoples and kings. This temple gate, which creaks (stridebant) like the Trojan fleet under assault, is reminiscent of the Gate of the Temple of Janus, which was open during war and closed in peacetime. The man who is still wandering and the woman who has settled bodes ill for any romance (of which there must be one, since Venus is involved).

Dionysus, Semele, Bromius

 The anapest is a metrical foot that not only reflects its own nature of two shorts and a long, but also matches the initial syllables of the names of the Bacchic cult. Both Dionysus and Semele form anapests, as does Bromius, the most common appellation of Dionysus, under common metric conditions. Admittedly, Bacchius does not form an anapest. The question then arises: does meter dictate the names or do the names guide the meter, or is it a matter of reciprocity? Are there instrumental factors of which we are no longer aware? 

Superman Space Age

 Superman Space Age, by Mark Russell and Mike and Laura Allred, is an illustration that a limited scope is not an impediment to telling a good story. The art is reminiscent of X-Statix, an unusual look for a Superman story, but this is a particular Superman on an Earth which does not have the privilege of being one which survives the Crisis on Infinite Earths. This is not a true spoiler: the first pages are set in 1985. This Superman's floruit is in the 1960s; the inciting incident, therefore, is the assassination of President Kennedy. This Earth's Clark Kent has a relation with his Earth father which is closer to that of the Man of Steel movie than any television adaptation. The assassination spurs Clark, Lois, Luthor, Bruce, and Hal into action which will lead to the conclusion. Despite the decade, Pariah, the multiverse-hopping herald of cosmic oblivion, arrives and the world does not immediately end in a wave of white blankness. Some may view this as breaking canon. This premature arrival prompts Superman to value the time left and rally the proto-league of this Earth. 

This version of the Superman story is geared for a generation who knows that disaster is coming within their lifetime and must decide how to manage both the catastrophe and their emotions. It is worth reading, and the development within the limited framework will be intriguing.

Paper Girls (Show and Comic)

The primary difference between watching Paper Girls and reading Paper Girls is not the '80s vibe - that is consistent - but rather that the show is structured as a season and the comic is structured like a very long '80s kid gang movie, despite its distribution over several volumes. A literal adaptation, even if costs allowed, would have felt disjointed, failing to introduce all relevant concepts and failing to conclude in a way suitable for the season format. The reworking of the plot, therefore, as well as the expansion of the cast's background, was a wise decision. The necessity for an ending, however, does create the risk of further time shenanigans that are less well-written than the original comic - note the deterioration of Game of Thrones. Appropriately, time will be the judge.

Heaven and Earth

 A feature of the myth of Dionysus which is likely to escape non-etymologists is the origin of the name Semele. Semele is an adaptation of the Thracian Earth goddess Zemele, cognate with the Greek word khthon, although it is not surprising the Greeks, hobbled by prejudice and the infant science of etymology, would not recognize it as such. Not only did the Thracian language lack the aspirated consonants (kh, th, ph) of Ancient Greek, but it was also a satem-language whereas Greek was a centum-language. This difference caused the sound which developed into kh in Greek to become z in Thracian. If Semele is Zemele, not a mortal but a god, then the union of Zeus and Semele is not a forbidden liaison between divine and mortal, but a union between heaven and earth, and Semele is the peer of Rhea or Demeter in the Bacchic rites by nature not merely by apotheosis.

Minor Threats

 The first issue of Minor Threats, the comic by Patton Oswalt, currently engaged as Matthew the Raven on Netflix’s The Sandman, Jordan Blum, Scott Hepburn, Ian Herring, and Nate Piekos, is a promising start at examining the midlevel criminal underbelly of a superhero universe. Our protagonist is a second-generation villain with inherited gimmick powers who just wants to lead a regular life and regain custody of her daughter. The universe in which she lives has suffered event escalation to the point where gimmick villains and bank robberies are old-fashioned, but there are still rules, particularly about killing heroes. This precarious balance vanishes when a sidekick of ersatz Batman is killed. The campaign of terror from the heroes prompts the midlevel villains to hunt down the culprit themselves to demonstrate zero tolerance. I look forward to the second issue.

Changing Planes (Ursula K. LeGuin)

 

Ursula K. LeGuin’s Changing Planes is a collection and a reminder of a simpler age before 9/11, before Columbine, before COVID. The parables are framed by an airport experience no longer available: dozing off. Each parable takes place on a different plane (in the non-aeronautical sense of the word) with a different ethnic group or species; not dissimilar to the manga Kino’s Journey. It is best read slowly, and a return to a favorite parable, whether that is due to familiarity or perplexity, will reap additional rewards.

The Book of Man (Mike Resnick)

 Mike Resnick's Birthright: The Book of Man is a deeply cynical future history that will delight those who seek the scope of Foundation and amoral universe of Pegana but wish to avoid the erotic exoticism of Heinlein. Each story features a different era from the ascent of Man to the stars to his eventual extinction. Man cycles through various forms of government, but ultimately remains Himself. If you need a dose of wonder afterward, Stapledon's Star Maker (equally atheist) is recommended.

Icon and Rocket

 The latest Icon and Rocket comic series is a distillation and update of the original Milestone Comics from the ‘90s. The plotting within the Dakotaverse (the name of the continuity) is tight and displays and awareness of the limited time and space granted to comic universes which are not part of the Big Two. The only character from the Dakotaverse who can hold his own long-running series is Static, and even that is sometimes tenuous. The Rocket who appears in Young Justice: Phantoms is a significantly different character in a very different world; that version is not addressed here. The leads of this comic are the titular Icon and Rocket. Icon is an alien who crashed on Earth in the antebellum South in a field; strange visitors from another planet are required to land in a field – unless they are causing cataclysmic destruction by crashing into the city prematurely. Rocket is a teenager who breaks into Icon’s house. These versions of Icon and Rocket do not exist in some separate multiverse; rather they are part of the DC multiverse or Omniverse; the gravitational pull of DC is too strong for virtually all the copies, commentaries, and deconstructions.

This Icon has tried to change the world, which resulted in a different conclusion for the Civil War; this might be considered cheap until one recalls that in Marvel the Human Torch (the original, android version) killed Hitler and in the prime Earth of DC Hitler used the Spear of Destiny as his primary defensive weapon. Comic book universes do not, and should not, have identical histories to the real world. This variation from our history in the Dakotaverse is a secret from the public. The concealment reflects the general ignorance of important events in Black history; but the method by which it is concealed is true to comic book aesthetics. The public history of the Dakotaverse must be the same as out real world because the George Floyd protests are the setting for the Big Bang, from which most of the powered individuals (but not our leads) gain their abilities. This update is reminiscent of the sliding scale of Marvel Comics, where the failed rocket flight of the Fantastic Four is move to the closest relevant international competition.

Icon has failed to change the world; Rocket inspires him to try again. The limited run time of the series allows the characters to execute real changes in their world that do not need to be reversed to the status quo, even as that same limitation restricts the amount of detail in which the characters can discuss the issues presented. If you want a series which features black leads and supporting cast, which is well thought out, and does not raise baffling alternate history questions, this could be the series for you.

Tricolon, tricolon, tricolon!

 The First Lesson from the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost is Deuternomy 30:9-14. This passage displays the use of tricolon, as well as other rhetorical devices. The first tricolon centers around "prosperous" and "prospering." The Lord will make Israel prosperous, and will delight in making Israel prosperous, just as He made their ancestors prosperous. The first part of this tricolon is expanded by a second tricolon, thereby making the first tricolon a descending tricolon. This second tricolon is based around the fruit of various living things and is (grammatically at least) balanced rather than descending or ascending.

The third tricolon is expanded to a paragraph, embedded in a ring composition, and could be decribed as a priamel, although the goodness of the commandment is not explicit. The first two parts of the tricolon are startements of fact that exclude asking the hypothetical question (which is asked anyway). The final part of tricolon is a refutation of the distance of the commandment by locating it not just near the addressee, but within him. 

Deuteronomy 30:9-14 NRSVUE - and the LORD your God will make you - Bible Gateway

Gorr the God-Butcher: A Child's Story

 Thor: Love and Thunder is a “classic Thor adventure” told by Korg to children and ending with a punchline that is poignant rather than funny. The audience of children frames the way the story is told in both omission of gruesome deaths and the prominent inclusion of children within the story. This child-focus also creates a connection between the narration and the other framing device about Gorr the God-Butcher, which in the source material was less child-friendly and certainly more lethal. There are a lot of scary and dangerous things in Love and Thunder – as Thor reminds us, these are (mostly) Asgardian children.

The reticence of early MCU to use the word ‘gods’ is wholly gone from this movie, although Thor is still from space. The gods in this story are the sort tp whom you can pray and they might hear you. The attitude of the gods is established in the interaction of Gorr, the last surviving devotee of his god, who takes his devotion for granted and mocks his belief in an afterlife. This god’s existence is not contingent on the existence of believers. The existence of a divinely lush oasis on an otherwise dead planet suggests a retreat of the gods from reciprocity of do ut des, which is mirrored in the hedonistic isolation of Omnipotence City. The corpse of the previous owner of the Necrosword, a weapon which can kill gods, suggests that Gorr is not the first to turn resentment towards the gods into direct hostility; perhaps the existence of gods who might aid mortals are a hindrance in the Celestials’ plans for planets such as Earth? Or perhaps the Necrosword is a weapon of an enemy of the Celestials, who want life, if only specific kinds, to exist? After this nameless god has dismissed his last worshipper, Gorr starts his career as Gorr the God-Butcher.

By the end of the movie, there has been a lot of love and even more thunder, but both have been recontextualized in such a way that Thor and others receive as happy an ending as one can find in the death and battle dominated world of Norse myth. Thor’s arc, like those of many MCU heroes, finds him in a state closer to his canonical self than at the beginning. The mid-credits scene promises the audience a new father-son dynamic to replace that of Thor and Odin for the next phase.

The Complete Pegānā

 If you want to avoid the loathing of all things and otiose verbiage of Lovecraft, but still desire a cosmos that is at best indifferent and at worst actively hostile, you could do worse than Lord Dunsany’s mythology about the Gods of Pegānā. Lord Dunsany’s style is the opposite of that of Lovecraft: Lord Dunsany writes horror by omitting adjectives and descriptions of rituals which are either known to those who dwell therein or are secrets known only to the Gods. Many of the most memorable elements of Lovecraft’s cosmos derive from here, including the sleeping god whose dream we are and his musical attendant. The best collection to read these tales is The Complete Pegānā: All the Tales Pertaining to the Fabulous Realm of Pegānā. The cosmos of the Gods of Pegānā is mostly Lucretian, in which the prayers of Men usually reach only as far as the ears of the priests; the attitude of the Gods towards Man is best epitomized in these lines from the chapter “Of Yoharneth-Lahai”: “Yoharneth-Lahai is the god of little dreams and fancies … To whom Yoharneth-Lahai come not with little dreams and sleep he must endure all night the laughter of the gods with highest mockery in Pegānā.”

The first half of the collection is structured like a holy book. The chapter divisions are similar to the surāt of the Qur’an. The chronology is similar to the books of the Bible, stretching from the creation of the Gods and the Worlds to the End. The content in the beginning is reminiscent of the Theogony of Hesiod (another noted pessimist), while the middle contains longer stories of Men and their desperate attempts to access the Gods. The Gods win, every time. There is some variety, such as the rebellion of minor streams. The final tale is that of the End, in which the god of Time is slain by one of his own hounds, who are the Hours which devour all things.

The second half of the collection is an expansion of the mythology, both in the realms of the Gods and of Men. The order here is more varied. On the divine side, it includes “A Legend of the Dawn,” in which the sole child among the gods loses her ball (the Sun), and “When the Gods Slept,” in which worse things than the gods creep into the world and further degrade Men. On the human side, there is “The Relenting of Sarnidac,” in which a disabled dwarf undergoes accidental apotheosis, and “In the Land of Time,” in which a king declares war against Time himself.

The final three tales of the collection are titled “Beyond the Fields We Know”: each tale involves a traveler from our world participating in the world of Pegānā. These serve as a link between the realms of Dunsany’s dreams and the “real world,” thereby allowing a transition to more familiar landscapes with a new appreciation. A good (but definitely not tame) Lion once put it thus: “I am [there] … But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason you were brought [here], that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.” Homecoming is a necessity after the adventure in the perilous realm.

If you enjoy Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman, you will enjoy Pegānā; but I would not recommend a graphic novel adaptation, for the sign of Mung and the other Gods of Pegānā are best left to dreams and dreamers.

Rainbow Brite Is Truly Dead

 This was my first time inside the new McDonalds buildings (I have ordered from drive up). The wooden paneling seems more natural, less plastic, but also exciting, less vivid, as though the abolition of the characters took away the joy of childhood fast food. Gone, too, was the germ-ridden plastic play area of my childhood, replaced by a more compact structure that retains all the colors of years past but none of the whimsy (or, depending on your experience with Grimace, whimsical terror). Perhaps this impression was magnified by this particular franchise’s location in Pacifica, but overall the world has grown duller, more frequently monochrome, a return to beige sans the illusion of smoking section.

Teen Pride: Teen Justice

 The Teen Justice issue for Pride Month was not originally on the list for Wednesday, but it earned its place. Teen Justice is the youth team of DC’s Earth-11. In the DC Multiverse, Earth-11 is the genderbent universe (before gender acquired a narrower meaning); thus the Justice Guild had members such as Superwoman, Batwoman, and a male Zatanna, whose fishnets do not work. Where there is a Justice League equivalent, there is the potential for a youth team – but only one, because secondary earths must maximize impact whenever they are allowed page time. Teen Justice is the youth team to the Justice Guild. It is composed of their children, sidekicks, proteges, and whatever Donald Troy is. The team exhibits Young Justice energy more than Titans. The roster includes Supergirl (Lauren Kent), Robin (Talia al Ghul), Kid Quick, Donald Troy (Wondrous Boy), Klarienne the Witch Girl, and Aquagirl. The new kid is Gigi, a depressed runaway with dark clothing and emotional powers – no prizes in guessing who Gigi is based on. Watered-down Raven may not be a crowd-pleaser; more enjoyable is the dynamic between Lauren and Talia. Laurel Kent (Supergirl) is the daughter of Clara Kent (Superwoman). The original pre-Crisis Clara Kent was Super-Sister, a genderbent Clark Kent (Superboy), while Laurel Kent was a Kent descendant in a previous iteration of the Legion of Superheroes. Talia is a Damian clone, right down to attitude – thus your appreciation for her will vary immensely. Laurel does possess the enthusiasm of Jon Kent, and sometimes you need to take the good with the bad. If young teen Jon is gone, then Laurel will have to do.

Traditional genderbending universes can provide sharp commentary, but the temptation is to lazily transfer the concepts of the main universe without exploring the implications. Certain concepts, such as male Amazons, are awkward without further details. Donald’s mentor recently appeared in Wonder Woman’s multiversal trip, in which he was treated as temporary toxic male until Doctor Cizko (hence Psycho) could be deployed. Klarienne the Witch Girl, although a logical reversal, diminishes the impact of the apposition of ‘Witch’ and ‘Boy’; she does have Klarion’s bad attitude. Aquagirl is the distaff version of Jackson Hyde, Kaldur’ahm reskinned to avoid any royalties like Black Lightning; not a bad character, but as restrained as many leaders are. Kid Quick is just another speedster – how many are there now?

The story appears to be combination of Raven’s entrance and the Church of Blood, although the ones behind the Church of Blood are a genuine surprise. This issue’s primary purpose is to introduce or reintroduce the relevant characters of Earth-11.

As stated above, Earth-11 began as a genderbent world in a time with a simpler understanding. Now it has become a world for genderbending and non-cis het heroes. It is not clear whether such diversity will dilute the concepts because Earth-11 is not a central earth of the DC multiverse and therefore will never (probably) receive the level of exposure central earths such as the main one and whichever of 2 and 3 is currently the evil earth do. “What if the men heroes were women and vice versa?” and “What if the heterosexual heroes were homosexual and vice versa?” are similar but separate questions best handled separately. In the spirit of concession to our reality, perhaps the writers are combining the two conscious of the limited series in which to present it. Male Amazons is still a strange concept!

I Owe My Soul to the Ballybran Store

 Anne McCaffrey is best known for her Dragonrider series, but a far more intriguing series in the Crystal Singer trilogy, composed of The Crystal Singer, Killashandra, and Crystal Line. This series takes place in the same FSP universe as Dinosaur Planet, the Ship Who series, and others. The protagonist of the series of the series is Killashandra, whose unpredictable temperament and a singular vocal flaw result in the abortion of her career as a singer. Her perfect pitch, however, makes her a candidate for residence on the planet Ballybran, source of the eponymous crystals. The crystals are magic space crystals, the spice of the FSP universe. If the original inspiration were dilithium, it would not be surprising. These crystals, in addition to their exclusive origin, cannot be mined in a conventional fashion – they must be sung out of their formation with precision. The value of crystals drives a constant competition among the singers, who need to prospect for the next vein; but one cannot sing and drive the sled, so cooperation is also necessary. A land of crystal mountains, as one might suspect, is not particularly conducive to human life, even with the modifications available in the FSP, but the fantastically high prices which crystal commands ensures food imports. 

Potential singers are exposed to the environment of Ballybran, which is, at best, long-term incompatible with human health and at worst a harbinger of impending mental death; but those crystals are very valuable! Of the candidates to become crystal Singers who gather on Ballybran’s moon, some recuse themselves from the trial, some are immediately invalided by the fever from adjusting to the environment of Ballybran, some are disabled in a lesser manner, and a few survive intact with enhanced senses – for now. All who descend to Ballybran cannot leave the world for too long; the Singers are the only ones allowed to leave in order to install the crystals in the infrastructure of the FSP – the rest of the world does not need to see the human price paid for the crystals. Even the singers, however, ultimately succumb to the toxicity of the environment of Ballybran. If a Singer stays away too long from Ballybran, she dies because her body is adjusted for Ballybran; if a Singer is on Ballybran, she is slowly going mad because “adjusted” is a relative term; if a Singer does not find new veins, she accumulates debt; if a Singer errs while prospecting, she goes mad. Ballybran is a company planet; it is surely no accident that rarest and most valuable color of crystal is black.

The actual plot of The Crystal Singer is relatively simple: it is a story of vicious claim wars spiced up with romance. Many McCaffrey series feature a romance between a female protagonist and a high-status male, with varying degrees of consent. In this case, Killashandra aims as high as she can, successfully attracting Lanzecki, the head of the Heptite Guild. The nature of Ballybran, however, makes all romances doomed ones; Lanzecki’s years of service to the Guild have exacted a toll on him that Killashandra has yet to suffer. Killashandra must prove her worth while becoming increasing isolated from her less successful guild members. Much like the original Lost in Space movie, Killashandra proved too popular to remain dead.

The second book, Killashandra, is also a romance and an intrigue on a planet where ‘everyone is happy’. The new love interest is Lars, a name which also begins with L. Unless Killashandra has a pseudo-Kryptonian L-fetish (she is stronger, faster, better than non-Singers living in a sterile crystalline world), this is either an oversight on the author’s part, or an indication that the original script featured Lanzacki. The paradise planet is, of course, not a paradise. The false paradise, a love doomed to fail, and trial by computer give this book a feel reminiscent of Star Trek. It nonetheless has a happy ending.

The final book, Crystal Line, begins as more grounded, but its ending could be seen as cheap way towards a happy ending. The cost of maintaining essentially immortal brain-damaged Singers is ruinous, and Killashandra is well on her way to joining them. An unethical doctor discovers a way to circumvent the duty to care for such Singers. The discovery of a possibly sentient being named the Jewel Junk in ranges hitherto believed to be lifeless further imperils the status of the Heptite Guild, but the Jewel Junk could also be the solution to the Guild’s problems, or at least a way to avoid them becoming worse. The happy ending to this book suggests that the author has succumbed to the desire of a happy ending for the main character and her world even against the rigorous world-building – especially when the original novel did not end so.

The Crystal Singer trilogy is worth reading. Its world-building is excellent and contains many real world parallels for book club discussion. It has a strong protagonist, utilizes the author's larger universe well, and series has an arc with an adequate conclusion. It would make a wonderful miniseries. The only problem is that the ending is a deus ex machina in a series that hitherto had been grounded in realistic politics.

M.O.M

To read M.O.M., the latest comic entry in the burgeoning "menstruation pride" genre,was an inevitability, but the investment was too risky for installments. This is Emilia Clarke's first (and therefore potentially only) graphic novel, which explains its weaknesses as well its strengths. The plot of M.O.M. is comprehensive and conclusive, insofar as any comic production hoping for a sequel can be. The characters receive as much backstory as can be reasonably delivered in the time allotted. The theme should not have been as off-putting to other critics as it was. The author's enthusiasm for the project is heartwarming.

Everybody starts as novices, however, so there are three weaknesses. The first is the tendency to infodump. Experience with golden age science fiction, Steve Ditko, and Alan Moore has shown that this example is neither the longest nor the most awkward; incorporating all the necessary background into dialogue or visuals can be tricky. More and more comics writers are falling victim to the compulsive chart-making of Hickmaniasis. The expository dialogue in M.O.M. is still longer than it might have been had the author not been so well known. 

The second is the humor. Much of the humor is already outdated, a risk every author takes with the humor; the only jokes which never age (because they are so puerile) are bodily function jokes. A wife has never farted while sitting on her husband's lap, as the ancients said. Political humor, however, can sour like the half-full carton of milk accidentally shoved to the back of the fridge.

The third is the underlying assumption that the themes addressed here are being addressed for the first time. This is mostly a symptom of presentism, both of the author, not a lifelong comics fan by her own admission, and of the audience, subject to the illusion that because this is the first time they have encountered an idea it is also the first time that idea has been presented. This phenomenon is unfortunately part of the human condition, but it can be an irritant to those who have encountered the idea before and would like those who presented it to receive some credit. There are Wonder Woman runs featuring Veronica Cale in a similar vein.

M.O.M is worth checking out of the library or adding to your Christmas suggestion list. A sequel is unlikely.

Two and Half Feet in an Elegiac Trenchcoat

 In preparing for the June sampler of the Greek group, I was reminded how the second part of the elegiac couplet, the dactylic pentameter, resembles its lankier predecessor not so much as a younger sibling as much as a burn victim whose skin has been removed from one area to patch another, a Frankenstein of metrical composition. The dactylic hexameter is a well-behaved meter, rarely breaking its structure for moments of deep pathos or extraordinary gravity; the iambic pentameter, however, rather than losing a foot before the final spondee, amputates the spondee in order to graft a long syllable as the second-and-a-half foot, while extending the rigidity of the final dactyl and spondee (despondent for its other half?) to the entire latter half of the line. The iambic pentameter is a pair of two-and-half dactyls (Idaean or Cretan, they are always male) masquerading as a longer line.

If we switch to a more sober frame of mind, like the Medes upon the eve of a great decision, the hemiepes (for that is its name) is a more rational construction, although one would still think that half an epes (dactylic hexameter) would have three full feet. The elimination of the dibrach (two shorts) after the long is suggestive of the principle of brevis in longo, whereby even a syllable short in prose is treated as long at the end of the line; the dissonance comes from the two hemiepes (is the plural hemiepeis?) united in one line, thereby stranding what would have been a final syllable displaying brevis in longo as an orphaned syllable before the caesura. There are two explanation I can think for this. The first, closer to epic, is that the caesura in epes often falls after the first (long) syllable of the third foot, and therefore is the appropriate place for bisecting the meter; the second, closer to lyric, is that a three-line stanza of an epes and two hemiepes would not admit sufficient flexibility in the second line. I am inclined toward the former, if only because a half line with the caesura after the first short of the third foot of a dactylic hexameter would be subject to brevis in longo and therefore result in a half line indistinguishable from the latter half of a dactylic hexameter. But the resolution (pun intended) of this question admits of diverse answers.

X-Men '92: Thoughts

 I meant to pick up X-Men '97 (forgetting that it was a different format and yet unreleased). So I ended up with X-Men '92. X-Men '92 is a continuation of the X-Men-focused fragment of Battleworld, the pastiche world created by God Emperor Doom from the remnants of the multiverse. Sadly, the only thing Vancean about this pastiche is a lot of Paos in battle. X-Men '92 was a testing ground for the continuing animation of X-Men '97 (which is the why the voices of the voice actors and the characterizations in the comic matched well). Fortunately, too characters and a complicated backstory is par for the course for the X-Men franchise; I'm old enough to remember the spinner racks where, if you missed an issue, or even worse, if the key event occurred in an annual, you just shrugged and read on. The advantage of the comics medium is that you can have far more characters, including short appearances, than you could with an auditory medium. The wordiness in this comic is almost Claremontian, a nice touch.

The story of the X-Men being temporarily tricked and who is good and who is bad being reshuffled is standard X-Men fare, well-written but not revolutionary. The writers and artists took advantage of this limited opportunity to introduce as many of the X-Men characters as possible - with the notable exception of Grant Morrison's X-Men run. There is no Wither or Wallflower here. Perhaps these characters are being held in reserve in favor of X-Force, New Mutants, and Generation X, and would have appeared in the second volume?

Island in the Sea of Time

Snake Island, the island off the Romanian coast from which the Ukrainian soldiers shouted words as vociferous, if not as grandiose as some Laconic words of defiance has a history stretching back into the Greek myths. Upon this island lay the temple of Achilles, where now the lighthouse stands; on its model the Greeks constructed Elysium; on these shores Circe (in some accounts) absolved her niece Medea of the murder of her brother Absyrtus (whose resemblance to Abzu, the watery consort of Tiamat, does not pass unnoticed). Pindar's Olympic Ode 2 mentions the Tower of Kronos in the Islands of Blest. If any island should represent the ghosts and sorrows of war, it is this island. 

Trial of the Amazons: Thoughts

Some thoughts after finishing Trial of the Amazons. 

It is nice to see that there are now three tribes of Amazons. This number tracks with the legends of historical Themyscira and hinterlands. Three, however, is sufficient. This is not just due to the sacredness of the number three in the feminine and general Indo-European tradition, but also because the enhancement of a story which careful addition to lore provides can rapidly diminish if too many divisions are added or too carelessly. The impact falls to zero. An expansion of the Amazons beyond the current three tribes would need to be meticulously planned by someone who would remain in charge for many years; this is not how Wonder Woman has historically worked. In other lines, this is shown: the seven colors of the Lantern Corps were added slowly and with a plan. Even the black and white lanterns fit into that world, even if temporarily, as the absence or presence of light; but it should have ended there. The ultraviolet corps threw off the structure of the Corps. In a similar manner the consolidation of all the DC cities of Atlantis in the animation Young Justice can make continuity a trap as much as a springboard for future stories (which do not have to be pseudo-Arthurian).

The Amazons could also use a second island on which to have adventures. Themyscira is beginning to seem a bit cramped, not unlike the old X-Mansion in the older X-Men events.

There is a need to provide extra titles for Wonder Folk. The nature of the title Wonder Woman restricts it to one woman at a time, except perhaps if both Hippolyta and Diana are alive and serving on different teams, but surely there should be only one Wonder Girl at a time, with the others holding other titles. This has not been a problem with Donna, but Cassie should get her own title. As the Robins have shown, the name does not need to include the lead character's primary adjective!

Continuity and Character Development: The Marvelous Land of Oz, Part 1

 

The plot of The Marvelous Land of Oz is an elaborate card trick played upon the stage. The Wizard of Oz show was a success, and therefore a new show was called for. The Marvelous Land of Oz was a script for that new show. Not all characters from the book had been translated to the stage, most notably the Lion (replaced by Elsie the Cow), so the archetypes that Baum used for The Marvelous Land of Oz were as follows: Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, Toto, Wizard, and Wicked Witch. Baum, however, faced a challenge he had not previously encountered: continuity. All his previous fairylands had been separate countries, but now he was returning (at least in book form) to the same country. The popular characters from the previous work had to appear, but the familiar characters could not occupy the same archetype because they had completed that portion of their story.  At the same time, the new characters could not entirely repeat the vacant archetypes; that would remove any surprises. Finally, the conclusion of the second trip to Oz needed to conclude in such a way that Baum could move on to other fairylands; Baum therefore created a magic trick in the form of a play.

The first difference between The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and The Marvelous Land of Oz is the initial location. This story starts within Oz. The Land of the Gillikins, the northern land neglected in the original, becomes the starting point.  There must be a wicked witch and an oppressed child. The Wicked Witches of Oz are dead, so this witch, Mombi, is not allowed to be an official witch, but she is wicked. The Good Witch of the North is mentioned as the author of this “one witch at a time” decree, but she is not the witch (not even the Good Witch) relevant to the story. Mombi’s status as potential Witch is cemented by her connection both with a crooked magician and the Wizard. The Wizard, of course, has returned to our world, so cannot be part of this story, but Mombi’s connection with the Wizard is the first clue that there is a mystery to be solved. Trafficking with the Wizard contrasts with the attitudes of the Witches in the first book, where they prefer to keep their distance from the Wizard, as well as indicating that there is further imbalance in Oz that requires correction.

The oppressed child, although he is not particularly oppressed but modern literary standards, is Tippetarius, also known as Tip. He is, of course, effectively an orphan. The relationship between Tip, our primary Dorothy replacement, and Mombi is reminiscent of that between the Tin Woodman and his witch, as well as that between the Tin Woodman’s female love interest and the witch who employed her. While Mombi is off to the black market to defraud and possibly be defrauded, Tip, whose ethics are somewhat lacking through no fault of his own, constructs a man out of sticks with a pumpkin for a head to scare Mombi. Tip has neither magic nor narrative power, so the sticks remain sticks. When Mombi comes across the stick man and is not alarmed, she uses the magical gimmick, the Powder of Life, to give the figure life and dubs him Jack Pumpkinhead; thus we have an occupant for the Scarecrow archetype. A living stick man who does not eat is cheaper than a flesh and blood boy who does, so Mombi decides to change Tip into a (apparently alive) garden statue. This seems at first glance an act of gratuitous cruelty, but it cements Tip’s archetype as the Tin Woodman as well as Dorothy.  This transformation, however, will have to wait for tomorrow, since potion making is a lengthy process. Mombi’s assumption that Tip will not leave and will voluntarily drink the petrifaction potion illustrates how much control Mombi believes she has over Tip. This control is illusory, which is interesting because her primary magic skill is illusion. The long-term motivation for petrifaction might be a fear of Mombi that Tip will rat her out to the Good Witch of the North directly or indirectly, but Mombi’s trafficking with the Wizard, the bretwalda of Oz, suggests substantially greater problems. Tip fulfills his obligation as Dorothy by freeing Jack, but their departure together displays Tin Woodman elements, because Jack is a magical toddler and does not come possessed of the sagacity which the Scarecrow received, even though Jack is structurally more like the Tin Woodman than Tip. It is also possible to miss the Scarecrow element of Jack if the party’s numbers are the only consideration, since Tip and Jack are travelling to see the actual Scarecrow in the Emerald City.

Tip and Jack have an important conversation about their relationship. Jack maintains that Tip is his father because he constructed him. Tip points out it was Mombi who sprinkled him with the Powder of Life and therefore would be his mother. Jack insists that Tip is his real parent because if Tip had not created him, he would not have existed at all; moreover, nobody would choose Mombi as a parent, adoptive or biological. This discussion introduces parentage as a major element of the story, but also temporarily deflects the question of parentage to the sidekick rather than the protagonist.

Alis in Waunderland

 I’ve been reading Pindar’s Olympian Ode 1. Every ode has a victor which it celebrates and almost every ode has a mythological antecedent. The Olympic victor here is Hieron, tyrant of Syracuse, while the mythological antecedent is Pelops, son of Tantalus. The story which Pindar tells about Pelops is different from the usual tale; but Pelops returns to the mortal realm either way. Once Pelops is growing into a young man, he needs to find a bride, so he decides to enter the contest for the hand of Hippodamia, daughter of Oenomaus of Pisa, a city near Olympia. The successful suitor receives Hippodamia as a bride; the unsuccessful suitors receive death, because myth never does anything halfway. Pisa and Olympia are in the land of Elis, or at least that is how the Attic Greek of Athens would render it. In the Ode, which is written in the Doric Greek of Thebes, the land is Alis, showing the long alpha for eta correspondence used (and sometimes abused) in certain parts of Greek poetry. In the land of Elis (or Alis) itself, the Doric Greek dialect is yet more archaic: it retains the digamma or wau lost in more rapidly developing dialects, and therefore Elis in Elean Greek is Walis or Valis (the digamma is sometimes rendered as beta in Greek which lacks it). This name, as speakers of Latin might notice, means ‘valley’ or ‘hollow’, which makes the subdistrict of Hollow Elis a Torpenhow Hill or Caermarthen Castle. The land, therefore, in which the Olympics occurred shares a name with a Swiss canton because humans are not very imaginative when it comes to naming things – the name Pisa is basically Las Vegas.

Young Justice (Rebirth): Continuous Continuity Confusion

Recently I finished the three-volume trade of Young Justice from the Rebirth Era of DC. Rebirth was an amelioration of the New 52 Era in which the continuity on which DC had based its identity was rejected, except for the series that were selling well. Most reboots of the universe after various crises have this flaw, which might even be described as a metaflaw; at least explicitly out-of-continuity stories can pick and choose their Robins and even the order in which they apprenticed.

Young Justice is a pleasurable read if you either ignore the continuity mess it is trying to fix, or you (like me) love overly complicated continuity. Since there has been "not a Crisis" since publication, and a new Crisis looms at the time of writing, the former option is probably better.

The initial lineup of Young Justice is Wonder Girl (Cassie), Robin (Tim Drake), Impulse, Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld, and new kids Teen Lantern and Jinny Hex (one of them is LGBTQIA+). Thus it contains three of the original members of Young Justice, a princess whose origin lies in pre-Crisis continuity, a descendant of another  pre-Crisis character, and the mandatory new kid. The politics of Gemworld are as eternally contentious as Gotham is crime-ridden, so the six members end up as prisoners on Gemworld. Once they escape, they meet Superboy. This is the Superboy (Kon-El or Conner Kent) from before the New 52, the Superboy who is a clone of Superman and Lex Luthor and really likes leather jackets. Due to secret experiment shenanigans, Superboy had ended up in Gemworld and therefore survived the Crisis reboots; there was a clone Superboy in the New 52, but we don't talk about him. Young Justice saves Gemworld but is thrown into the Multiverse as thanks. The final Earth is Earth-3 where they meet their counterparts, who have taken over for the Crime Syndicate of America, the Justice League of Earth-3, who had died in a previous storyline in the New 52. Tim for some reason borrows the costume of his Earth-3 counterpart and commits the one sidekick sin that no previous Robin had: using his own name as his "code name." When Young Justice gets back to its Earth, it is somehow widely known despite being kidnapped almost immediately. They recruit Naomi, Bendis' Miles Morales for DC, as well as the Wonder Twins, who are interns for the current Justice League and whose series was amusing but perhaps too silly for some people's taste. 

They confront the evil secret scientist, which raises even more continuity issues. If this Superboy is the one from before Flashpoint, then this scientist is not the same scientist as the one who ejected Superboy into Gemworld; so if this scientist remembers a Superboy, it cannot be this Superboy. If this scientist ejected a Superboy into the Multiverse, that Superboy (the New 52 one? a new Rebirth one?) must have ended somewhere else.

At the time of publication, when I saw that Superboy (Conner) had been brought back, I thought that he might be a replacement for Superboy (Jon Kent). Jon Kent, the son of Clark and Lois had been unfortunately aged-up because Superwoman (Lois Lane Kent) of Earth-3 (or an Earth-3? Didn't Superwoman die earlier?) had imprisoned him for his teenage years. Jon was then recruited by the newest version of the Legion of Super-Heroes to receive some of the training he needed to become the heir to Superman and therefore inspire the Legion with which he was now. Even when Jon would return to present to engage in such inspiration, Conner would still exist to provide a Robin (rather than Drake) solution to the limited number of Kryptonians; apparently Kara doesn't count. 

And then Dark Knights Metal and Future State happened. And everything mattered, so for some nothing mattered.

 

Do They Know It's Christmas in (Fantasy) Africa?

If the sections of Baum's Land of Oz are reflective of portions of America (Munchkin land is the populous East, Winkie Country is the West, Quadling Country is the swampy and isolated South, and the Emerald City is Chicago), is the much less well-known Island of Yew a fantasy Africa? The entirety of the island is abundant with sorcerors, although not as many as the Yewsians would have potential enemies believe. The north is a land of feuding, bloody baronies, much like the Barbary states of the Mediterranean and bandits reminiscent of the Senussi slave routes from the Niger to Cyrene. The west is characterized by a flim-flam sorceror, similar to the European perception of voudoun, along with the attendant suckers, and a magical land of twins, much like the twin statues of the Gulf of Africa. The east is a land of cattle raiders, which matches the cattle-raiding culture of Bantu tribes of East Africa. The center is unknown and as mysterious to the travelers as the Mountains of the Moon, full of monsters. The south. of course, is dominated by a ruby-themed good sorceress who maintains civilization (God save the Queen!). Fairies are needed to guide places and people that are not civilized; once a place is civilized, the fairies do not need to intervene and any remnants of the pre-civilized edge will be out of place.

On the other hand, much of this directional theme could be overlaid on Europe in certain periods.

Not All Women (Are Museless)

 The Legend of Wonder Woman is a 2016 series by writer/artist Renae de Liz and artist Ray Dillon which tells its own version of Diana’s entry into the world. The style is a bit too 3D for my taste, but that is now a common style and does not detract from the story. I have the issues for about half the series; unfortunately, I misestimated where it ended and at the time I did not have it on my pull list. When I saw it in the local branch, I immediately grabbed it.

In this version of Themyscira, the Amazons believe themselves to be the survivors of an apocalyptic Titanomachy, although with one “Titan”. The rest of the world is seen as barren wasteland. The majority of the Amazons are mortal. So why are there still Amazons? Some Amazons, those whom the gods deem most suitable for the task, are designated to be mothers to the souls of girls, presumably from the pool of all women. The race of Amazons is small enough to avoid psychic recycling.  These mortal Amazons live their best lives in paradise and die happy. A few Amazons, including Queen Hippolyta, are immortal, but immortality always comes with a price. In this case, the price is childlessness. The other immortal Amazons can accept this, sometimes reluctantly, but Hippolyta cannot. Hippolyta molds a statue out of the clay of Themyscira and prays to the gods to give her a daughter. The statue comes to life as Diana, an immortal child. These details are important to Diana’s childhood. Although she is not the only child, she is the only immortal one. She has a destiny, like all Amazons; hers is to become queen after Hippolyta. This destiny, unfortunately, suffers from a breakdown in logic: if Hippolyta is immortal, then Diana will never become Queen. Although Diana is referred to as a Princess, it does not have the same connotation on Themyscira, since the two functions of an only child of the monarch, succession and marriage, are not relevant. When Etta Candy later describes Diana as a princess, she must think about it for second; this would be a strange reaction from a mortal royal. Diana, the immortal child, but fortunately not in the vampire child way, is an anomaly, and her anomalous nature enables her to detect other anomalies.

Paradise never lasts, much like childhood, and disturbances begin to gnaw at the peace of Themyscira. The rot is reminiscent of that found in Disney’s Moana. The inevitable plane crash occurs with Steve Trevor as the pilot. The Amazons in charge of the defense of the island want to kill him, but Diana nurses him back to health. This recuperation, of course, means someone must pierce the veil to return him to Man’s World. There must be a contest of volunteers to determine this. The point of contention here is that passing through the veil causes amnesia for intruders and a ban on returning.  Diana wants to enter; her mother forbids it; she enters anonymously; she wins; her mother gives her the paraphernalia. This is as inevitable as Krypton exploding (since Thomas Wayne is now a Batman).

Diana passes through the veil, but she manages to lose Steve, presumed dead. Diana is now depressed because she both failed on her first mission objective and can never return home. She is, however, pleasantly surprised at the non-wasteland of the outside world. She is welcomed, despite being a stranger in wartime, by a kindly elderly couple, who may be an oblique reference to the Kents (the wife certainly exudes Ma Kent vibes), but its coastal setting suggests Aquaman. After she has recuperated, she heads into town, which includes Holliday College. Her youthfulness and Greco-roman outfit lead the college students to assume she is one of their peers (and possibly drunk, since she falls out of a tree in the make-out corner of campus). Etta Candy, in all her Forties campus gal glory, rescues Diana by claiming she is her cousin from Gargantuania; this is both a reference to the villain Gargantua and the way that Diana replaces the member of the Golden Age Holliday Girls whose personality was being very tall (the very short one is present). A reference to Gargantua and Pantagruel seems a bit deeper than this series would go.

This story is about Etta and Diana, not Steve and Diana. If they are more than friends, there is no explicit reference – but it seems less likely in the Forties (pace fans of a certain author). Etta directs her characteristic enthusiasm towards boys, and Diana would like to hook up with Steve, but the mission takes precedence. This version of Etta is an update of the comic sidekick, stripped of some of the elements that would appear mean-spirited today. Etta’s comedic plot is her life-long rivalry with her hometown nemesis, Pamela Smuthers, now expressed through musical competition; the Holliday Girls are not just sorority sisters, but a musical group (thankfully this time without the Mexican stereotypes) who are this world’s Andrews Sisters. Smuthers naturally shows up every time Etta is about to perform.

After the domestic comedy, including Diana’s poor taste in clothes while shopping, her unfamiliarity with the concept of movies, and her anger at the misrepresentation of her mother in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, it is time for Etta and Diana to go to Europe. This is not easy in the middle of a war. Etta’s impetus to leave for the front is an unflattering ad from the Candy family business featuring Etta; she hopes that she can both avoid the embarrassment at home and make her name as a singer on the front. Diana’s impetus is to find the Duke of Deception, whose jewel she recognizes and whose existence is guaranteed by a news reporter named Perry. Diana signs up solely as a nurse so that she can have access to the news from the front. Steve is around and teaches Diana important Chekov’s skills, but Etta is still more important.

The treatment of race in this book is interesting. The appalling excesses of the Golden Age comics are thankfully absent, but the presence of an integrated campus and military with the absence of any comment on race is a bit odd. It is true that later war stories projected integration back on World War Two, and Etta’s libido is as outsized as any of her other appetites, but the only reasonable conclusion is that focusing on race would be a different Wonder Woman story with a different villain.

When the Duke of Deception starts raising the dead, which itself could be a reference to a real incident on the Eastern Front, Diana springs into action as Wonder Woman. This heroism leads to the troops regarding her as their hero. Although this is a Wonder Woman story, superheroes do exist – enough that there is a JSA, which includes at least Hourman; thus she is not the lone hero of this earth. Why the other heroes are not in Europe is not answered; but perhaps the sole mention of Hourman suggests no mystical or mythical heroes, and Clark Kent failed his eye exam.

Wonder Woman is on an upward track until Zeus, who has apparently finally noticed Diana using Hippolyta’s paraphernalia, summons Diana before him. Zeus offers to make her his champion against the Titan, whom Ares is attempting to raise using the Duke of Deception’s campaign of death and misery. Zeus is best known for being a lecher, but his most relevant quality here is his unbending authoritarianism. If Diana agrees to be his champion, she will receive greater power than she already possesses, but she must abide by Zeus’ rules. Since this is a duel, if the Titan wins, Diana’s friends are fair game for the Titan. Diana does not mind dying for her friends, but she is not willing to abandon them and the rest of the world to destruction. Zeus, who is petty in all the ways that a being of immense power can get away with, strips Diana of all her powers save natural Amazonian athleticism.

The Titan rises. The air corps flies off to meet their doom. Diana steals the invisible jet on which Steve trained her in one lesson, with the Holliday Girls as her crew. This chutzpah is true to the spirit of the Golden Age Holliday Girls. Diana confronts the Titan without her powers but is summoned again before a god. This time Gaia, the Earth, reveals that Diana is the last child of Gaia and bestows upon her the powers which Zeus had removed. This reveal is interesting because in Classical Greek mythology Gaia was the mother of monsters rather than the mother of the champion against monsters. Gaia was the mother of the Classical Titans, but this Titan is not the child of Gaia, but rather a being from the stars, a robotic Manhunter. These Manhunters began as just, but they became corrupted over time and more dogmatic. The Manhunter that fell to Earth tried to purge it, but Zeus’ attempt to destroy the Titan through control of his champion decimated Earth almost as much as a Titan victory would have done. The Amazons’ isolation preserved a piece of paradise, but stagnation was the price of immortality. Redemption required a mortal impulse from an immortal made immortal rather than a natural immortal; this mortal impulse produced a member of the immortal society who could not fit in, and therefore would experience both worlds in the way that Zeus could not and Hippolyta would not. The champion of both worlds needed to care about both portions to defend the entire Earth from a threat beyond the stars.

On a more personal level, the Duke of Deception turns out to be a regular human, Thomas Byde, who sent his little brother away from present danger. He dies in a bombing anyway. Thomas feels guilt over this, and Ares exploits this guilt to manipulate him. Thomas flies to Mars and lives there alone in the former habitation of his master; a cruel fate, but one that contrasts with the communal life on Themyscira.

The Inverted Island of Oz

The Enchanted Island of Yew is a geographical reversal of Oz. Oz is an endorheic basin bounded by desert, but Yew is an island with central mountains. The central kingdom of Oz has an allegedly good ruler, who leaves the other realms alone for the most part. The Kingdom of Spor, in contrast, is feared among the inhabitants of the Island of Yew, and it is a good year when the locals are robbed only once by King Terribus and his Grey Men. Of the other four kingdoms, the western Kingdom of Auriel has a pleasant fairytale name, but the eastern Kingdom of Dawna and the southern kingdom of Plenta sound like matriarchal realms from a Golden Age Wonder Woman comic. The southern kingdom of Plenta naturally has another wise and beautiful sorceress. Then there is the northern Kingdom of Heg, which seems to be in a war between barons. The kingdom has names such as Baron Neggar of Merd which suggests a much more adult version later watered down for the consumption of children; whether this adult version originated with Baum or was adapted by him is not clear. The northern barons do not control the entire northern kingdom because there are at least two other rivals in the northern kingdom, unless Wul-Takim’s bandits control lands of King Terribus the way Lake Quad is in Emerald City territory rather than Quadling Country. The western kingdom is ruled by a sorcerer, Kwytoffle, while the eastern kingdom is dominated by the Red Rogue of Dawna. There is at least one other Kingdom within the western kingdom, the Kingdom of Twi, surrounded by a magical hedge – it isn’t called magical, but the kingdom seems much bigger on the inside. The only reason their neighbors have not invaded a land in such disarray is the fearsome reputation of the sorcerers of the Enchanted Isle of Yew. The residents of the island make no effort to disabuse their neighbors of this notion.

The portion of the northern kingdom where the book begins is the baronial territory that borders the northern coast. The castle of Baron Merd is set back from the water, while the Forest of Lurla where fairies live is behind the castle. The barony is sufficiently secure that the Baron’s daughter, Sesely, and her two attendants, Berna and Helda, can safely picnic in the forest. The three girls encounter a fairy, who has grown bored with immortality. Rather than spending a period doing good, a period doing mischief, and a period doing evil, this fairy, who avoids giving her fairy name, decides to spend a year as a mortal – with severe qualifications on the “mortal” designation. In this world, fairies can grant the wishes of mortals, but cannot make them fairies, nor can fairies make themselves mortal. The surprising reversal here is the reveal that mortals can wish for fairies to become mortal. Instead of the fairy granting the three girls their wishes, the girls can grant the fairy her wish. The fairy is fully aware of the foolishness of a woman who looks like a girl wandering a bandit-infested island, so she disguises herself as a male knight – a petite one, to be sure, but it is still a safer option. She dubs this persona Prince Marvel.

Prince Marvel’s first adventure takes him toward the center of the island, much like all adventures in Oz that don’t start in the Emerald City lead to it. The first challenge for Prince Marvel is the bandits of Wul-Takim. The bandits are so well known that they label their entrance without fear of reprisal. The child-sized Prince Marvel ignores the warnings and enters the cave, where he meets Nerle, the son of a local lord whom the bandits are holding for ransom.  Nerle, unlike many Baum characters, is not brimming with optimism; he is the sole character who is seeking misfortune and misery to the point that he does not care if he is impaled on the bandits’ swords. Prince Marvel is a hero and cannot allow this, so Nerle agrees to be rescued and accompany Prince Marvel as his squire so long as he can complain. When the bandits show up, Prince Marvel not only vanquishes them but turns them into his personal army. Although bandits are the bad guys in most tales, their moral compass operates more on might than dichotomous morality.

At this point, the name of Nerle’s father must be addressed. Nerle is Nerle, son of Neggar, the richest baron in the land. This wealth explains both the ability to survive the bandits’ depredations and the utility of Nerle as a hostage, even if Nerle himself has doubts about his rescue. Although the name could appear to be a joke in poor taste, especially with the previous Duke of Merd, one pronunciation of the name is close to Nagus, a title of exotic (to American) princes with fabulous wealth, while an alternate pronounciation suggests a connection with ‘negative’ and ‘nag’, the combination of which epitomizes Nerle’s terrible relationship with his dad (who, ironically, is not the one being negative). The name Nerle itself sounds like both a playground insult and a mispronunciation of ‘null’; neither of these associations improve the quality of this father-and-son relationship.

Prince Marvel’s next adventure leads him to the center of the island, the Kingdom of Spor, the domain of King Terribus. Terribus is the most formidable ruler on the island due to his nigh-impenetrable fortress. His appearance is terrible: it combines an actual trunk for a nose and an incredibly bizarre placement of his three (yes, three) eyes. Most three eyed creatures in fiction have a third eye above the conventional pair, or maybe three in a vertical row: King Terribus has three eyes arranged vertically on his forehead, crown, and back of his head. The reaction of “normal” people to his appearance has soured Terribus, so his servants, primarily giants, dwarves, and those known only as “Gray Men”, he sends out on raids, fear him as a monster. Prince Marvel, who has not given up his fairy talents, slips through the impregnable defenses and bests the giants and dwarves, but then must face a dragon. The dragon, as it transpires, has been poorly maintained. When the dragon is (literally) relit, it refuses to fight Prince Marvel allegedly on the grounds of professional courtesy, but also because it is old and hurts. Apparently berating your underlings does not create motivated living cavalry. Prince Marvel restores Terribus to a conventional human appearance on the condition that he cease his wickedness, which he does.

Prince Marvel and his retinue of Sesely, Wul-Takim and his bandits, and the Chronic Whinger of Yew head west to the Kingdom of Auriel, where a wicked wizard dwells. The wizard, Kwytoffle, turns any dissidents into insects. Nobody has seen this occur, but all of them have heard about it from someone else. This information arouses the suspicions of Prince Marvel. When Prince Marvel confronts Kwytoffle, the wizard has an extremely limited spell book (none of which are magic missile) and no ability whatsoever to transform people. This fraudulence is like that of the more famous Wizard, but Kwytoffle is more pathetic and does not come with his own balloon.

Within the Land of Auriel there is a magical exclave containing the Kingdom of Twi. Access to the kingdom is via a hedge borrowed from Sleeping Beauty. Between the raids of King Terribus, the bandits of Wul-Takim, and the perceived wizardry of Kwartoffle, the kingdom’s decision to hide is quite sensible. Prince Marvel and select members of his company penetrate the hedge to discover the terrifying secrets of Twi – it is not terrible puns; that’s just basic Baum.

The kingdom of Twi, which seems larger on the inside, is bathed in Twilight and operates on different rules than the lands outside the hedge. It is a topsy-turvy land, but the most important aspect of the kingdom is the Twinese government. Everything is doubled and each doublet always agrees. The double executive of Twi consists of the elderly male twins the Ki of Twi and the younger male twins the Ki Ki of Twi. On the rare occasion that the Ki of Twi and the Ki Ki of Twi disagree, the High Ki of Twi, a pair of young female twins adjudicate. This is not a traditional monarchy; the people, all of whom are also twins, chose a new Ki, Ki Ki, or Hi Ki from the general population. The Mikado-esque balance is overthrown when the latest dispute between Ki and Ki Ki results in the attempted kidnapping of the High Ki; this is only partially successful because the Ki gain the support of only half of the High Ki. This physical separation of the High Ki from themselves allows each to start developing individuality; both possess the same potential but are interested in different aspects of that potential. The Twinese government, like many governments in fiction, cannot sustain any minimal damage; in this case, the High Ki resigns and each individual chooses a different path in the wider realms of the Enchanted Island.

Prince Marvel and his retinue return to the northern Kingdom of Heg, where more disorder on the island has led to the death of Neggar as well as the father of Sesely’s companions. One half of the former High Ki becomes the Bandit Queen, but most of the protagonists travel to the eastern kingdom, the Kingdom of Dawna. There the principal reaver is the Red Rogue of Dawna, so named for his russet beard, but also illustrating that red does not always have a positive association in Baumian color theory. The Red Rogue, an onomastic predecessor of Roquat the Red, has an intimidating castle, but his main internal defense is not a prosaic tight stairwell, but rather mirrors which will steal your visible form and leave you invisible. This defense works well on all but the OP fairy Prince. Prince Marvel’s appearance is already an illusion, so the mirror cannot make him invisible. This adventure of the party capture and a sole protagonist rescuing them is the plot of the second half of Ozma of Oz, but it also indicates that Marvel’s personal integration is too strong. The Red Rogue is defeated by one of his own mirrors and remains there a long time.

Since the quest would not be complete without visiting all quadrants of Yew, the company travels south to the Kingdom of Plenta. This is the southern kingdom in a magical land in a Baum book, so naturally it is ruled by a wise, kind, and generous ruby-themed sorceress. This land is where the final party takes place. As a wise hobbit once remarked, a long time can pass without adventure in times of peace and do not make for exciting tales. Prince Marvel returns to the wood where she first descended, changes her horse back into a stag, himself back into a fairy, and departs. Nerle and Sesely get married; Sesely’s two friends come to live with them. The Red Rogue eventually escapes his mirror prison, only to find he has been forgotten in the manner of Curdy and Irene. He tries to scrape together a “gang,” but the residents of Yew who possess negotiable morals have less murderous ways to indulge their appetites. The Island of Yew has become civilized, less magical, less chaotic.

In each stage of Prince Marvel’s adventure, the land of Yew becomes progressively more integrated. The bandits retain their identity as powerful warriors but are still proud of the name bandit. The appearance of Terribus changes to eliminate his sensitivity, but he does not have to surrender his kingdom. Kwytoffle’s illusions are shattered, but the people of Auriel learn to trust their own logical faculties. The Kingdom of Twi is brought out of its isolationism. The defeat of the Red Rogue allows the people of Dawna to no longer be invisible in decision making. The entire lsland becomes developed, civilized to the extent that the Red Rogue no longer fits in the society.

The applicability of Prince Marvel to transgenderism is easy to see, although it is not perfect. Prince Marvel is never uncomfortable in their identity as a latter-day Britomart, nor are they truly human. Even in their temporarily mortal form, they retain fairy powers which make the quest perhaps a little too easy. The primary applicability is to Baum’s feminism, in which the authoritative feminine protagonist displays qualities more commonly associated with boys in order to restore order. The one realm of Yew in which no dramatic adventure occurs is the one ruled by Baum’s archetypical Ruby Sorceress, be it Glinda, Maetta, or any other.

The Enchanted Island of Yew is also a prototype for the sequel to the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, the Marvelous Land of Oz. Tip is the inverse of Prince Marvel in his transformation. He comes from the north to the center. He is an agent of change and picks up fantastic allies in the west. He faces a challenge from the west. Each adventure has a conclusion. Although the protagonist of the Enchanted Island of Yew does not remain on the isle, it is probably no coincidence that the next Oz book, featuring gender politics as well as other inversions, was called the Marvelous Land of Oz.

The Forever People (Jack Kirby)

 

The Forever People is the last part of Jack Kirby’s quadrivium of his original Fourth World. The Forever People, whose appellation is never adequately explained, are the classic team of four guys and a girl. Mark Moonrider is the leader, and most normal, save for his “megaton touch”; Serifan is cowboy-themed, armed with “cosmic cartridges”; Big Bear is the driver and predictably the strong one; Vykin the Black is the token black-skinned character who does nothing that would scream “black (human)”; and Beautiful Dreamer is the chick with long-range rather than melee powers. When the Forever People use the Mother Box, they can summon the Infinity Man in their place, much like Rick Jones could switch places with the Kree Captain Marvel. At this point, Infinity Man has no ties to any Fourth World characters other than the Forever People.

The Forever People are a reminder that even among the New Gods of New Genesis there are degrees of power, and that not all of them are royalty like Orion and Mister Miracle or elite warriors like Big Barda. The defiance of these three is lessened without the portrayal of others who find resistance more intimidating. The Forever People’s adventures illustrate the external manifestation of human inner conflicts such as the darkness exploited by Glorious Godfrey (for Amazing Grace is not a Kirby creation) or the illusion of happiness promoted by Desaad’s Happyland. A team of heroes against a more potent evil is where Kirby’s genius sometimes shines. In the grand scheme of the Fourth World, the Forever People are the balance to the Female Furies.

The Forever People lack the driving character narrative which both Orion and Scott Free possess. Although Beautiful Dreamer is believed to possess a portion of the Anti-Life Equation, Sunny Sumo eventually usurps that role. Sunny Sumo is an example of a character whose external manifestation of the human spirit is diminished by Kirby’s onomastic habits wandering into accidental racism. Heroes and superheroes are not subtle in their virtues or their physical traits, but this explicitness can clash with the real world of the audience (note the current refusal of Sima Liu to autograph Seventies issues of his Marvel character). Even if this issue is set aside, the Forever People suffer from the lack of characterization which Orion and Mister Miracle (and certainly Big Barda) do not; although here it must be conceded that the human companions of Orion are even more one-dimensional than the New Gods, who are personifications of ideas important to the Fourth World mythos. The reader has a sense of who Big Bear and Serifan are, but not so much Beautiful Dreamer, Vykin the Black, and Moonrider. It is not surprising that Orion and Mister Miracle became important in the post-Crisis universe, while the Forever People did not.

The Forever People, whatever their flaws might be, do have an advantage over their nobler fellow heroes: they receive a definite ending within the Jack Kirby run; Its later overwriting is not the fault of the King. This conclusion, a concept denied many times to Kirby’s world-building endeavors, is a poor consolation prize for the lack of a Kirby Ragnarok or epic overthrow of the father by the son. Fragmentation and incompletion are features of the epic tradition, as is work thwarted by the powers that be, so in one light at least, Kirby stands proud among those creators more honored among the academic world.