A People’s History of the Marvel Universe, Week 6: This Man, Magneto!

Face front, true believers!

When it comes to the intersection of politics and Marvel comics, the X-Men’s “mutant metaphor” is justifiably at the forefront. Up until now, I’ve danced around the topic a little because I lost a detailed set of notes that I had made on the original Lee and Kirby X-Men and Claremont’s entire run and am still in the process of reconstituting my research.

This means that my discussion of the “mutant metaphor” will have to build gradually, which is actually rather appropriate because I intend to argue in several succeeding columns that the “mutant metaphor” was something that took a good bit of time to emerge in the X-universe and as a theme ultimately owes far more to Chris Claremont’s work than to Lee and Kirby.

One example of this is the character of Magneto, the X-Men’s original antagonist who is often held up as the Malcom X to Professor Xavier’s Martin Luther King. There’s a lot of problems with this analogy, as I’ll discuss in future issues, but to the extent that there’s any truth to it, it’s entirely the result of Claremont’s run, because the original Magneto from the Lee and Kirby years is unrecognizable from his appearance in X-Men #114 through #161, and is frankly not that great a villain.

To begin with, Magneto’s motivations in the Silver Age are so generic and opaque that he decides to name his mutant revolutionary group the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. This kind of stuff is the weakest part of the Silver Age, because the adage that “everyone is necessarily the hero of his own life story” speaks to a truth of human nature. Almost everyone, even sociopaths and sadists, feels the need to construct ideological frameworks and narratives which justify and legitimize their actions. But the closest that Silver Age Magneto gets an ideology is a crude Social Darwinism which posits an inevitable race war between humans and mutants in which mutants must rise up and subjugate humanity (which becomes more problematic when you consider the Silver Age depiction of anti-mutant prejudice…more on this in a future issue):

Despite these shortcomings when it comes to motivation, Silver Age Magneto could have been a more impressive antagonist if he was presented as a figure with some dignity (like Doctor Doom) or wit (like Loki). Unfortunately, Lee and Kirby depict the master of magnetism, the would-be messiah of mutantdom, as a straight-up Snidely Whiplash villain. To begin with, Magneto is repeatedly and habitually abusive to his underlings, especially to the cartoonishly obsequious Toad, who he makes wear a metal belt specifically so that Magneto can torture him with his mutant powers.

In addition, he’s also a lousy manager. He shows a blatant disinterest in his subordinates’ safety, makes it blatantly clear that he will throw each and every one of them under the bus the moment it can gain him the slightest of advantages, and repeatedly abandons them in moments of peril to save his own skin:

It’s not that these qualities can’t be part of a villainous background, but it doesn’t particularly fit a villain who aspires to be the leader of an entire race of people. At the end of the day, there’s just not enough Toads in the world who would be willing to follow someone who calls them cannon fodder to their face. The only way that Lee and Kirby explain why anyone would ever follow this guy, especially why they would continue to follow him after the first time that they get foiled by the X-Men, is that he’s a consummate gaslighter and emotional manipulator. Hence his long history of constantly holding over the heads of Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch the one time he “helped” them, as well as pretending to be the father of both (plus Polaris):

Again, this isn’t adding to the portrait of a villain who impresses anyone. Add onto that the way that Magneto compounds this callousness with a sadistic streak that runs to the quasi-genocidal (which I think is where, if we’re in the mood to be charitable, Jeph Loeb got his idea from for Ultimatum), and you’ve got a real heel:

But of all of Silver Age Magneto’s personal behaviors, I find none so foul as the occasion where, to put it bluntly, he decides to pimp out the Scarlet Witch to Namor to gain his support.

There’s not really another way to interpret this scene, especially with the way that Kirby depicts Magneto pawing and leering at a shrinking Scarlet Witch in the manner of a cliffhanger serial villain tying a damsel in distress to the train tracks. All of this is truly despicable on a personal basis, but the reason why I argue that, in all the ways that really matter, Chris Claremont created Magneto as we have come to know him, is that Lee and Kirby’s Magneto is a Nazi (and I don’t make that claim lightly):

As I’ve mentioned before with reference to Captain America, Jack Kirby especially was not a man to make such comparisons lightly or accidentally, given his anti-fascist sympathies and service in the European Theater in WWII. Each visual detail – from the goose-stepping soldiers wearing M armbands and knee-high patent leather boots to the WWII era Stalhellms and forage caps and submachine guns – is meant to evoke not just fascism generally but Hitler specifically. And this is simply not compatible with the identity that Chris Claremont would develop of Erik Lensherr, the Holocaust survivor who bases his belief that humans will inevitably attempt to exterminate mutants on the fact that he saw genocide against supposedly dangerous genetic minorities first-hand. (Arguably there’s an interesting story to be told of a survivor so traumatized by their experiences that they seek to become the figure of their own nightmares, but that’s not a story that Lee and Kirby were telling.)

However, there are a few redeeming virtues of Silver Age Magneto that explains why he was revived when other antagonists like Unus the Untouchable were left in the circular file of history. The costume’s red with purple accents and the distinctive helmet are an iconic Jack Kirby design that would be carried forwards for decades (although in recent years he’s been rocking an all-white variation of same). And while Stan Lee didn’t have that good a fix on Magneto’s political ideology, he did have something that almost made up for it – a complete lack of understanding of how magnetism actually works. This allowed for some truly wacky moments while giving Magneto a useful power set for a powerful villain:

While the Magneto-turning-guns-against-their-wielders trick is a good one (that predates X-Men: First Class and Days of Future Past by several decades), this is basically magnetism-as-telekinesis, which Magneto will use to block Cyclops’ eye-beams or fly through the air. And it only gets goofier from there:

While I’m willing to grant Lee and Kirby that there might be enough dust with a high content of iron or nickle or the like to spell out a giant skywriting message (and the cursive signature is an uncharacteristically dashing touch), Magneto’s hypnosis-by-magnets is clearly a callback to the long-discredited ideas of Franz Mesmer, who believed that you could use magnets and one’s own “animal magnetism” to cure diseases and mental illnesses.

However, a snazzy costume and a lack of understanding of magnets work is a thin reed to build a major antagonist on, which may be one reason why Lee and Kirby kept marooning Magneto on alien planets or de-aging him into baby. To make Magneto something more than a Snidely Whiplash, Chris Claremont would have to do some rewrites…which we’ll discuss the next time A People’s History of the Marvel Universe covers the X-Men!

how densely populated would you expect the land surrounding Highgarden castle to be? are city-sized towns likely?

Well, the Reach is the most densely populated region of Westeros, so the most dense. I doubt there are any city-sized towns (i.e, as big as White Harbor’s 50k) because you’d think they would have gotten charters and become cities, or at least we would have heard of them. My guess is that you just have a lot of towns that are in the 10k range, more decentralized.

Did the title “High King of Dorne” wound the pride of other realms? Of the Reach and Marcher Lords at least?

warsofasoiaf:

Thanks for the question, Anon.

The only House I can see ever used the title “High King of Dorne” was House Yronwood, that ruled the largest swath of land among the petty Dornish kings before Nymeria’s conquest (there was also a High King of Dorne by the Greenblood in ancient days, selected among a number of now-extinct houses, but considering that crown disintegrated prior to the Andal Invasion, I don’t think that style made much difference to anyone). I don’t think the reacher and marcher neighbors thought much of the style, to be honest; reacher and marcher lords have long been enemies of their Dornish neighbors (and vice versa), and if a Dornishman called himself “lord”, “high king”, or simply “ser”, his style wouldn’t change the mutual antagonism on that southern border. It would not have likely been in the interest of reachmen and men of the Dornish Marches to study the political makeup of Dorne; there could be a God-Emperor of Dorne, for all they cared, but Dornishmen were still in their minds cravens and liars and enemies. A man could call himself whatever he liked, but since there was little enough respect already held by marcher lords and reachmen for Dornish (and, if Anguy can be believed, by the Dornish for these people), a grander title would not, I think, have really affected the mindset of non-Dornish. Not that the style “high king” limited only to the Yronwoods anyway: after all, Robar II Royce had declared himself High King of the Vale after receiving the fealty of a number of petty First Men kings in his valiant but failed effort to drive back the Andals, and there had been at least 111 High Kings of the Iron Islands before Urron Greyiron made the office hereditary.

The Queen Regent (NFriel)

Actually, High King usually refers to a King who has other kings as vassals, but who hasn’t adopted the title of Emperor, usually because Emperors were believed to rule multiple nations whereas a High King ruled over one nation. So the Yronwoods having petty kings of Dorne as their vassals style themselves as High Kings of Dorne, and Robar II becomes High King of the Vale by having other First Men Kings of the Vale bend the knee. 

Had Aegon I not been so insistent that all of Westeros was one kingdom, he might have crowned himself Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms or possibly Emperor of the Andals, the First Men, and the Rhoynar; or if he’d decided to keep the various kings as kings instead of as Lords Paramount, he could have called himself High King of Westeros. 

A few days ago, Martin compared Daeron II with Edward II of England in the Mysticon. Do you agree? Do you see any other historical figures he could have based Daeron on?

molicioushat:

warsofasoiaf:

racefortheironthrone:

Wait, are you sure it was Daeron II and Edward II? Because that would be pretty controversial, given how much of the fandom really buys into the Daeron the Good narrative, when Edward II was a pretty thorough failure as a king. 

I saw this reported as well, from a few different people at Mysticon. Strangely, I didn’t see any explanation why GRRM thought the Good King and one of the worst Plantagenet kings were alike (perhaps he did and I just missed it). Doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.

The Queen Regent (NFriel)

I was just as confused but this cleared it up a little bit. 

AHAH! Interesting. I guess is I could see that. A lot of Edward II’s bad publicity came from his favoritism to Piers Gaveston and the Barons Despenser, so I could see the parallels between that and the critiques of Daeron II as favoring the Dornish. 

But man were they different in terms of capability when it came to government. 

Given how powerful and dynastically smart the Tyrells and the Lannisters (or at least Tywin) are why does there seem to be so little connection in recent history pre-ACOK. It seems the two could have formed a pretty strong, for lack of a better name, “western ambition” plot. Is there any reason for this?

Because they’re historical rivals. If you read WOIAF or Sworn Sword, you get a very clear picture that the Kings of the Rock and the Kings of the Reach were pretty bitter rivals, to the point where the existential purpose of Houses like Crakehall and Swyft and Serrett in the Westerlands and Oakheart and Rowan and Crane and Osgrey in the Reach is to guard against the other in a long-running series of border wars all along the “Northmarch.”

Simon Rumble Asks: Invasion Plans

What do you think about the Golden Company’s invasion so far? What would you do differently? If Danaerys was not a factor how would you rate their prospects of long term success?

I’d generally defer to BryndenBFish on this point. But overall, it’s going well – the Stormlands has mostly fallen, Storm’s End is going to fall, chances are the Martells are going to back him, and he’s basically destined to briefly become the King on the Iron Throne.

If it were me, I would have stayed with the meet-Dany-in-Meereen plan. 

Simon Rumble Asks: Stupid!Robb

Robb wastes two months sitting at Riverrun only to allow the Riverlords to return to their keeps and fight divided once more. He then invades the Westerlands with a fraction of his total forces.

Robb launches his invasion immediately after the Battle of the camps with his full force of North and Riverlands soldiers. How does this change the campaign?

That’s not the order of events as I understand it. Rather, following the Battle of the Camps, Edmure allows the Riverlords to split and then Robb holds tight at Riverrun because he doesn’t have the strength to hit Harrenhal (and indeed, didn’t have the strength even when the Riverlords were with him).

But Robb’s plan works – he takes out Stafford’s force at Oxcross, forces Tywin to follow him. Taking the whole of the army with him wouldn’t really help much. Especially since he wants Riverrun itself held to prevent Tywin from turtling again.