"Doom Must Fall!"

 

At long last, it's a pleasure for me to revisit an issue of Nick Fury Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. that had first caught my eye in an old house ad (most likely a reprint issue from the early 1970s) but had regrettably been long gone from the stands well after its 1968 release. (Those of you in the UK perhaps found it reprinted in the 1977 Captain Britain publication, issues 38-39.) What helped to embed the issue in my mind was of course its stunning cover by Jim Steranko.

I was reminded of this issue thanks to an upcoming PPC post regarding the final issue of Ka-Zar The Savage--specifically, its homage cover by artist Paul Neary, where our Lord of the Savage Land is doing his best to fill the boots of Nick Fury:

"Collectors' Item Last Issue!" The 34th issue of a cancelled title isn't likely to be something a reader would covet, gentlemen.

Steranko's cover is for the most part symbolic of the crisis in the issue's story, with the exception that within the pages Fury doesn't suit up for a mission in outer space (though not for lack of trying, as we'll see); and yet, taking into account the fact that Steranko had just departed the book as its writer/artist with the prior issue, he might well have had the entire cover scenario in mind for this issue had he continued. It's an eye-catching image that I would have liked to have seen to completion.

Yet the plot we have is from Roy Thomas, with the story scripted by Archie Goodwin. And the essential gist of Steranko's cover layout would appear to be intact when the crisis presents itself:

These Odds and Ends Approved by Princess Zanda

 

Recently, I had occasion to go through a lot of graphics files that have been collecting dust over the years--looking them over after so long, clearing out the chaff, that sort of thing. Many of them consisted of content for old blog posts long since completed; some were curated as fodder for framework ideas for either home or office; and there were a few curiosities in the mix that evoked my earliest days of collecting comics memorabilia, a sort of digital "scrapbook" I hadn't even realized I was contributing to. By contrast, however, there were also a few such images that had me wondering just what I'd intended for them, but for whatever reason decided not to pursue or preferred to put on the back burner indefinitely.

Yet there were enough of these to share with Peerless Power readers and perhaps convey the same mixture of nostalgia and curiosity that I still have toward them--a sort of "grab bag" of comics tidbits that will hopefully evoke some thoughts on your part, as well.

We can start off with a montage of Alex Ross renderings that never made it to a wall hanging, but were most suitable for throwing together a desktop wallpaper montage:

(And if you're wondering why there's a Batman/Green Hornet graphic among the Marvel scenes, the only explanation I have is that it was too awesome not to have on my desktop! :) )

The Spy Who Overtaxed Me

 

When Strange Tales ended its run in May of 1968, it served as a springboard which launched each of its two principal characters--Doctor Strange and Nick Fury--into their own titles the following month. Doctor Strange would continue the former book's numbering and begin with issue #169--while the new Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. book would start off with issue #1. Prior to then, Jim Steranko had shepherded the SHIELD segment of Strange Tales successfully for fifteen issues, and it seemed that Marvel had struck gold with Steranko and his interpretation of the man who had been appointed as head of SHIELD. Who better, then, to spearhead Fury's new solo espionage series?

And yet the celebration of a new SHIELD series with Steranko at the helm was short-lived. As before, Steranko was working on a title being published monthly--but where Strange Tales offered a comfortable 11-12 pages for the writer/artist to produce, as he did for over a year, Steranko now found himself on the hook for twenty pages of story per month--inevitably running into deadline pressures as early as issue #4, when a story by Roy Thomas and artist Frank Springer was substituted and which retold Fury's installment as head of SHIELD and covered the events from Strange Tales #135 in more detail. Issue #5 subsequently turned out to be Steranko's final work on the series (though he would turn in cover art for issues 6-7), after which Springer would return as artist and several scripters would try their hand on the book.

But Steranko's early work for the series was nevertheless something to behold.  It was here he would introduce the character of Scorpio, who would later turn up as a member of the Zodiac crime cartel but who flies solo in this series and whose true identity will elude Fury until Steranko's departure. Until then, Scorpio would relentlessly pursue bringing about the death of Fury--beginning with an elaborate scheme that would use the resources of SHIELD itself, a scheme that would backfire thanks to the tenacity of its intended victim.

The battle between the two see-saws back and forth--but just as Fury seems poised to learn Scorpio's identity, a twist to this tale reaches its climax that first allows the villain to escape, only to then bring about his apparent death.

Yet Scorpio returns in Steranko's final issue, as Fury pursues a lead from SHIELD's telepathic operatives and he's forced into evading a series of attacks launched by the key of the Zodiac, which ultimately hem in on him and culiminate in his capture.

Scorpio's scheme this time is to cast a mask that allows him to impersonate Fury within SHIELD, and then arrange for Fury himself to replace a Life Model Decoy unit scheduled to be tested in a deadly chamber of fatal traps--nor do Fury's fellow agents realize the LMD is their leader, given that the face is masked (then pull it back, Fury--even I knew that!) and they're aware that the unit was programmed with Fury's own reactions and reflexes. Clearly Scorpio has an axe to grind with Fury that involves stress and suffering rather than killing the man when he was unconscious and helpless.

Yet, again, Steranko provides twists to this story that involve more than Fury and Scorpio--and eventually, circumstances result in Fury's pursuit of his foe, the man's literal unmasking, and another apparent end to the villain.

Scorpio would resurface (heh, get it?) in Avengers #72, where Fury has faked his own death (thanks to an attack by Bullseye) in order to infiltrate Zodiac as (you guessed it) Scorpio. Once the dust settles on the defeated cartel, and the Avengers learn that Fury is alive, the mystery of Scorpio's identity is at last revealed by Thomas, as Fury recounts what he'd learned in that last chase in which he saw Scorpio alive.

In closing the circle, Thomas also pays a bit of homage to Steranko's dramatic splash pages from issues 1 and 5 of Nick Fury, Agent of Shield, though Thomas's effort is somewhat disappointing in that it boils down to a play on words which takes its material from the lead-in to a joke.

Gerry Conway would also contribute his two cents in a Defenders story where Scorpio is out to create his own members of Zodiac, but sticks to Steranko's general theme for the splash page's wording:

Before Steranko would bring Scorpio back for his curtain call, he would provide us with some unorthodox Fury stories which featured the return of Jimmy Woo in his first appearance as a SHIELD agent, followed by a 1930s scientist bent on wiping out mankind--as well as a mystery which plays off Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Hound of the Baskervilles"* (with an evil Nazi plot twist):

*Which, granted, strays from the "Agent of SHIELD" espionage angle a reader might have been expecting from this title.
 

Once Steranko departs the series, he leaves behind two covers for the stories which follow--one of which won the 1968 Alley Award for Best Cover.

Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD would last for 18 issues, the final six shifted to a bi-monthly schedule. Springer returned to the series for six issues post-Steranko, followed by an appearance by Barry Smith, with Herb Trimpe pencilling the next three. But the book effectively ceased publication with issue 15, at which time it began featuring only reprinted stories from Strange Tales Nick Fury segments until the plug was finally pulled. Oddly enough, even then Marvel was promoting the book with new cover art, recycling Strange Tales for all it was worth.

(To which Nick Fury might have replied, "Nuts!")

 

"Today Earth Died!"

 

For its final issue in May of 1968, you can't say that Strange Tales didn't try to go out with a bang--the kind of bang, unfortunately, which portends the end of the world, as artist/writer Jim Steranko makes clear on the splash page of the Nick Fury portion of the issue.

Steranko and inker Joe Sinnott's impressive opening page, which entreats the reader to turn it and find out the details, receives a bit of reworking for its appearance in the letters page* of the new Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD series which premiered the following month. Steranko's original depiction, come to think of it, would have made a fitting entry in the PPC's prior post featuring the art of the letterer, though it's difficult to tell whether it was Steranko or letterer Sam Rosen who superimposed the mushroom cloud effect with the story's title. (Perhaps both men pooled their talents.)

*Entitled--what else?--"Don't Yield, Write S.H.I.E.L.D."

This final Fury story of the book--one that I've been meaning to get back to ever since it was featured as part of a brief roundup of splash pages which caught my eye--turns out to be a bit offbeat for a SHIELD story and perhaps not a tale that one would expect to find as part of a mag's final issue, yet it comes off as well-timed for regular readers since it provides a change of pace from the heated Yellow Claw conflict which had played out over several issues. As to what's on Fury's mind here, the head of SHIELD isn't actually brooding about some approaching apocalypse, but is instead dictating a message to Jimmy Woo, a former FBI agent who got his start in the 1956-57 espionage series Yellow Claw and then segued to Strange Tales in the fall of '67 where he lent a hand to SHIELD against the Claw--a partnership which Fury is interested in formalizing.

Of course, when it comes to SHIELD, duty may call at the drop of a hat, something Fury knows all too well--but the coming threat will in the end be unlike any other that he's faced.

 

Hail, Madame Hydra!

Ophelia Sarkissian may not be a name that immediately rings a bell for Marvel readers, but the character has enjoyed a long and prolific career as one of the company's most deadly and recognizable villains, establishing a reputation that precedes her throughout the world and a "rap sheet" that no doubt makes for an eye-opening file in the databases of both Interpol and S.H.I.E.L.D. You likely know her as Viper, gaining her name much the same way as she acquires anything--through the use of deadly force.

While there's no question that the original Viper was dangerous in his own right, his successor has an edge on him not only in sheer violence but also the fact that her dedication to nihilism is ultimately the driving force of her actions.

Yet in spite of Viper's longevity and greater notoriety as a character, I still wonder at times why Madame Hydra, her original role, wasn't given the same amount of attention and was quickly abandoned. It's hard to pin the blame on the organizations that each was originally affiliated with--Hydra, despite its broader reach and resources, arguably isn't that much of an improvement over the Serpent Squad in terms of story draw, and each had their fair share of stories featuring conflicts with Captain America. My layman's guess is that Madame Hydra was scripted very two-dimensionally by Stan Lee, though Lee and artist Jim Steranko at least made an effort to explore her character in the early days.

The full-page shot of Madame Hydra addressing the troops doesn't make for a bad pin-up, thanks to all the trimmings that Steranko and Lee provide at first glance: We have Madame Hydra herself, imperious and commanding; we're privy to the Hydra oath in its entirety; we're shown the Hydra emblem in the background; and naturally we're witness to the unfortunate Hydra minion who receives the ultimate penalty for his failure. (The Warrant of Death is a new one on me--if someone announces that you're being handed something called the Warrant of Death, what person in their right mind reaches out to take it?)

Yet Madame Hydra's claim to fame wasn't even of her doing, but rather the unwilling part she played in the master plan of the Space Phantom, part of which involved targeting Captain America on behalf of the Grim Reaper:

While logic suggests that there is only one person acting as the "Supreme Hydra," it's also reasonable to assume that there are subordinates who take charge of Hydra's cells around the world and report directly to the S.H. We learn later that there are other Madame Hydras leading their own contingents (one is featured in the 1988 Nick Fury vs. S.H.I.E.L.D. mini-series)--yet it's interesting that there doesn't seem to be a male counterpart for the position with his own title. (Maybe just "Leader"? "Mr." or "Monsieur Hydra" comes off as silly, even for a comic book.)

The death of Madame Hydra that the Phantom speaks of takes place during the culmination of a plan meant to destroy Cap, the Avengers, and Nick Fury. Yet as we know, it's difficult to declare Captain America dead and turn out to be right about it--and when he and Rick Jones turn the tables on her, it's Madame Hydra herself who sows the seeds (or hunter missiles, in this case) of her own destruction.

The panel which the Phantom's recap indicates was the moment in which he replaced Madame Hydra would be where she yells to her hordes to destroy Cap and Rick--which later makes the Phantom a pretty good actor at the point where "Madame Hydra" later appears earnest in admitting her own failure and launches the missiles. It's anyone's guess how the Phantom escaped death from the unexpected missile impact on "his" own position, though it's reasonable to assume he'd have more resources to escape the blast than Madame Hydra would have.

As for Madame Hydra, she returns from Limbo fairly soon afterward, with the Phantom relocating to a Hydra base underneath a gutted tenement on the lower east side of Manhattan and switching bodies once more to replace the Supreme Hydra in order to continue with his plan. Once freed from Limbo, it takes awhile for Madame Hydra to resurface, the circumstances of which she explains to her new subordinates in the Serpent Squad--a meeting where it's fair to again wonder aloud why the Cobra's power makes him such a reputed threat.

Obviously the Viper isn't worried any longer about Hydra looking her up and taking vengeance against her.

For what it's worth, we learn a little more of Madame Hydra's origin through a 2010 flashback featured in the Secret Warriors series, though its focus is obviously on the Viper and her untimely end--"end" being a rather fluid word in the Marvel universe.

And of course there's nothing like confronting your murderer after your death.

Hail, Madame Hydra--a Viper in a nest of serpents.

Striving Through Adversity

Today, as I join my fellow Americans in observing this anniversary of our independence and freedom, it seemed appropriate to look for a different kind of inspiration from our most recognized fictional bastion of national pride and liberty, Captain America--particularly this year, when many of us find the state of our union in a precarious condition and we navigate our way through such troubling domestic conflicts. Fortunately, throughout his long career, Steve Rogers has often shown us through example his own method of facing difficult challenges--while continuing to push on against injustice and the forces that seek to weaken our spirit, as well as rejecting the sinking feeling that we take two steps backward for every step forward. For Cap, his perseverance seems to all come down to a virtual code by which he lives: striving through adversity. To keep at bay those who would derail our progress and dampen our identity as a nation that treasures equality and the rule of law... to rise above the setbacks we encounter and stay true to our conscience. Cap has certainly had his share of setbacks and tests of resolve--and to bring some of those together in this post is both a pleasure and an interesting trip through the decades of his career, as well as providing a look at the many interpretations by his writers and artists of how this character handles adversity, both personally and as a national symbol.

To start things off, there is, of course, no more memorable event in Cap's life than his startling decision to hang up his uniform and shield and renounce his identity as Captain America, a decision he's made more than once. In two of these instances, his decision was the result of his disillusionment with his government, though for different reasons. In the first, the corruption he discovered at the highest level of government led to a feeling of betrayal, and, from there, the decision that he couldn't in good conscience continue to represent that government.

During World War II, when the country was united not only domestically but with the free world in common cause, standing behind the U.S. government was a role that must have come easily to Rogers, one he fell into almost immediately after the experiment that made him Captain America; so it's understandable that seeing that government become something so insidious would have hit him hard, given his unswerving belief in his country's leaders up to that point. Yet after taking up another costumed identity for a time, it occurs to him that, in his role as Captain America, he's come to represent not so much the country's government but rather the dreams and spirit of his fellow Americans.

It's a realization that serves him well from that point on, giving him a clarity and purpose that went beyond unwavering duty and service. At a later point, when he's called on the carpet by a government commission to assume a more direct role as a government operative, his perspective has evolved to the point of making a distinction between the American government and those he feels he truly represents, though his decision is not an easy one.

The government's solution is to move on and select another man--John Walker--to fill the role of Captain America. But Walker proves to be unstable, and a subversive plot within the government leads the commission to request that Rogers step in and reclaim his uniform. Rogers, now in another costumed identity, at first refuses--but Walker takes him aside and urges him to reconsider.

It wouldn't be possible to show Captain America striving against adversity without including the work of writer/artist Jim Steranko, whose brief work on the title injected the character with boldness and vitality that made Cap practically leap off of every page. One of my favorites involved a plot of Rogers to regain his secret identity by faking his own death, in a story drawn by Steranko and scripted by Stan Lee; and while I didn't care much for the plot itself, Steranko's art has a way of reeling you into the action and holding your attention. As for Lee, who took quite well to bringing to life Cap's fighting spirit and his will to persevere, his narrative blends nicely with the dynamic action playing out before us. Throw in Madame Hydra, an army of Hydra goons, and the backdrop of a cemetery, and you've got yourself a party.

There were also times when Cap faced more personal obstacles, such as when his foes would devise ways to put him at a disadvantage by forcing him into a form that resulted in him becoming less than he was. Yet a person's will and spirit can never be underestimated--and what holds true for you an I is equally applicable to Captain America, who wrote the book on the indomitable fighting spirit. For instance, even when Cap reverted to the state he was before he underwent the super-soldier experiment, he sought to prove to himself that Captain America was more than a mask and a serum. The odds were against him prevailing--but what are odds to this man?

At a later time, Cap was severely aged, thanks to the Red Skull (whose own clock was quickly running out on him). In the Avengers' lab, the battle to restore him was waged in an isolated chamber with special equipment; yet his foes sought him out even there, and Cap, in his aged and weakened state, waged his own battle for his life.

Finally, we find Cap again at a point where he must decide whether to give up his role as Captain America--this time, not out of antipathy toward what that role had come to represent, but because he must consider whether he can better serve the greater good in another role. Suddenly engulfed in a public wave to draft him as a presidential candidate, he receives advice from a number of sources in many walks of life--yet what decides the issue for him is a memory from his childhood that provides guidance (and no small amount of inspiration) from his former civics teacher.

Over 240 years after our struggle for independence ended, one can only wonder what King George III, regarded as a tyrant by those in his country's colonies to the west, would have thought of America as it stands today: a fragmented nation with a divisive culture, its people at odds with its own government (and vice versa). We'd probably be able to hear his mocking laughter clear across the Atlantic.  As we've made the transition to the 21st century, we've learned how far we have yet to go in our dealings with each other; and in the coming years we're likely to encounter even more differences of opinion. Judging by just the last few months, the conclusions we come to may not be easy ones to live with. Until the storm passes, we're left to strive on as best we can. With no Captain America to look to as the embodiment of the American dream--the American ideal--our struggle will lie in setting a higher standard for each other while doing our best to see those elusive qualities realized in our lives, and in ourselves.