The Next Chapter of Hercules, Hero of the Ages

 

There have been so many attempts at providing a solo series to Hercules, the self-designated Prince of Power, that it's easy to discount them, often on sight alone. What will this one bring to the table, we wonder, that could possibly provide some measure of depth to this character that goes beyond his preoccupation with seeking out forms of amusement, a tavern, or, failing that, a challenging opponent? Admittedly, I'm as guilty as the next person, having formed a bare-bones impression of Hercules during the '70s and '80s as an egocentric, brazen god who is easily provoked and revels in battle, wine and song (not necessarily in that order). Yet I took note of artist/writer Bob Layton's attempt to temper him to an extent in no less than four projects--three of them being four-issue "limited series" (the term no longer being used in banner form by that point), and, in 1988, a graphic novel--all written in the spirit of good, obstreperous fun and not to be taken too seriously, a description that might suit Hercules himself when not in the heat of battle.

In 2015, however, I ran across another brief series which sought to turn things around for the character, this time by writer Dan Abnett, and with an ambitious premise that appears to acknowledge that he has his work cut out for him. (A statement that we could apply to both Abnett and his subject.)

And so, having touched on this series previously, let's now backtrack to its first issue in order to see Abnett begin to put in place the pieces that would help to redefine the character for a readership which by this point might have collectively felt certain they knew what they could expect from a Hercules story--expectations that Hercules himself appears mindful of in his approach to dealing with a looming threat older than himself.

The assertion that Hercules was Earth's first super hero is definitely a distinctive bit of trivia that would bolster this reset of the character, given that in the case of Thor that's never really been made clear. In the classic scene where Odin prepares to send Thor to Earth in order to teach him humility, Thor reacts to the image of Earth as if he's never seen that world before, and this was in the early 1960s; yet we know he was present on Earth during the Trojan war, as well as the heyday of Vikings (if briefly) and the ancient Grecians. My guess is that Abnett is simply emphasizing that Hercules has lived through a great deal of Earth history and thus has considerable perspective on the human race and its evolution, which will become pertinent as this story progresses in relation to how he's adapted to those changes.

We find Hercules just as he's begun to make modest inroads toward breaking with his careless past and sordid lifestyle, having distributed unpretentious notices that advertise his services (though we'll also see that the U.N. Secretary General has made a point of pocketing his business card for emergencies). He's also taken in a temporary boarder--Gilgamesh, a former Avenger and hero who has fallen into a rut and whose life Hercules hopes to turn around. We get our first look at Hercules through the eyes of two young boys who could use his help in a domestic situation involving a family member--and the pace Abnett establishes in these introductions helps us acclimate to this new Hercules in a way that we've seldom seen before.

Sophia, Hercules' landlady, appears to be mostly Abnett's mortal-in-the-mix, a sort of grounding character whom we later learn had made Hercules' stay in her building conditional on his staying sober. As for the boys, Akil and Baste, they serve as our gateway into this new avenue of heroism that Hercules wishes to pursue--one navigated not by bragging, but by conversing, which the art of Luke Ross appropriately takes its time examining and brings the reader along, so to speak. I found myself quite drawn into the story, pleased to find a greater degree of nuance to Hercules peeking through that larger-than-life veneer than what I'd experienced in past stories.

But as we soon see, Hercules' wish to help these boys has more to do with his suspicions of what he suspects is the true nature of "Erik," the boyfriend of Akil's sister. Yet what's truly intriguing to see come to light in their eventual conflict is how mindful Hercules is (and perhaps has been, to some degree) of the advantages inherent in someone having lived through the centuries in regard to changing with and adapting to the times on this mortal world.

As Hercules pauses, we're witness to another surprise in his modus operandi, where--rather than bellow his outrage and re-engage with the Urmut with arrogant declarations of his foe's imminent defeat at his hands--he instead takes stock of its motives, and, equally important, its vulnerability to the tools which Hercules the "Prince of Power" would have forsaken in favor of naught but his right arm and trusty mace.

"I have lived lifetimes. I have learned many skills." How true!--and how odd, in retrospect, that this side of Hercules was rarely if ever explored during his time with the Avengers (even by Roger Stern, who regarded the character as an amiable bruiser who took the initiative but for the most part was seldom solicited for his opinion and/or perspective).

The crisis dealt with and reassurances made to those to whom he pledged his aid, Hercules then races to face the other obligation he agreed to fulfill, bringing to a close a public debut which has stunned a good many this day--including the news media, which don't have the benefit of having this issue in hand and, like their fellow New Yorkers, struggle to make heads or tails out of the behavior of this character who now seems to be the epitome of responsibility.

During the events of this day, Hercules has also been "visited" (an apt enough description of the scene) by the goddess Athena--her coming shrouded in mystery, keeping silent in response to Hercules' many queries as to the reason(s) behind her appearance. Something to ponder further as the day winds down for him and he again turns his attention to his couch-settled friend, Gilgamesh, even as he mulls a suspicion that the Urmut may be a portent of a greater threat yet to be faced. In a sense, Hercules and Gilgamesh are perhaps two sides of the same coin (Gilgamesh, an Eternal, having been mistaken for Hercules during his own past adventures in ancient times), the latter now facing a future of irrelevance which nearly claimed the former but, unlike Hercules, seems resigned to such a state.

If Gil can be pried off of his couch, Abnett's story, "Still Going Strong," could be on its way to redeeming two heroes in the eyes of its readers.

BONUS! The Marvel Legends 2021 action figure based on the new Hercules,
alongside the Hasbro vintage Hercules figure (sandals and all).

Which of these gods gets your vote as the more compelling character?