Let's Rap About Cap, pt. 8: Stern and Byrne

ROGER STERN and JOHN BYRNE

CAPTAIN AMERICA 247 - 255

"Roger and I had a whole heap of fun doing Captain America. Perhaps that's what people found in those pages." - John Byrne

Roger Stern's and John Byrne's short stint on Cap is fondly remembered by fans and pros alike. When asked why, Byrne (in Back Issue 41) said he's given up trying to figure out why anyone likes or doesn't like anything but offered the quote above. 

He might be onto something. Nothing earth-shattering happens here - if I had to liken it to a previous entry, it'd be the second Kirby run, minus the unfortunately wonky art from the King - but there is a sense of the book's creative team having a good time just making comics the way comics used to be made. (Elvis voice) Just TCOB, a-huh-a-hey-a. 

Not that it's fluff, just that there's no ax to grind, no big message to hammer home, just Cap fighting Dragon Man and Nazi robots and Baltroc the Leaper ("Sacre bleu, mon capitan!") and Mister Hyde and what not.

As well as homages to Trek and 60s Marvel.

I am going to steal your girlfriend, Wood-ee!

Hyde finally gets to crush some Cap-shield when Stern writes The Avengers a few years later.

Byrne (and to a lesser extent Stern as well) developed a reputation as a "Mr. Fix It" for aspects of Marvel continuity by other writers he didn't approve of. Here, he and Stern only refit one aspect of the character, though it's an important one: Cap's origin.

During Steve Gerber's brief tenure on Cap, he offered up a new origin for Steve Rogers that (as summarized in the Stern/Byrne piece in that Back Issue mentioned above) "despite its various merits, (felt) more resonant with the zeitgeist of the Vietnam era than that of World War II America and violated existing continuity in several respects (...) Stern reconciled all of the earlier inconsistencies by explaining that Rogers underwent an experimental procedure during the war in which he was implanted with various false memories as a defense mechanism against interrogation should be captured by the enemy."

Kinda makes sense in a place like the Marvel Universe.

Otherwise their version of Cap's origin is pretty much what audiences saw in The First Avenger.

Although FDR gives him his shield, not Howard Stark.

They also fleshed out those aspects of Steve's personal life established by Roger McKenzie on the title - namely, Cap's freelance illustration career (something inoffensive enough but really, all of Cap's civilian jobs feel unnecessary) and his friends and neighbors at his apartment complex.

One in particular:

Bernie Rosenthal, Steve's soon-to-be main squeeze.

More from Mark DiFruscio's article in BI 41: "Although Bernie and Steve were about the same 'age' physiologically, culturally they had a May-December romance."

"Throughout these interludes, Stern and Byrne invest Steve Rogers with an array of humanizing details, allowing him to demonstrate moments of shyness, charm, and self-deprecating humor. Rogers reveals himself to be a man who comes home to an empty kitchen, pulls all-nighters to meet a deadline, and doesn't even know the name of his local congressman."

In Cap 250 Cap is approached to run as an independent candidate in the 1980 election. That would have neatly solved the "how do we make Cap's civilian job exciting?" dilemma. He declines, of course; what's better? Vigilante symbol of all that is free and good, moving freely and autonomously amidst these amber waves of grain while dropping in to flirt with the Wasp over at the Mansion, or sitting on your duff in the Oval Office, writing executive officers and working on your jokes for the next Press Correspondents Dinner?

Not even a contest.

The story yielded a What If story down the line that's kind of fun. In this one Cap says what the hell, runs for President, and wins. 

This leads to the Red Skull (in disguise) doing the same in South America, and he lures President America to his doom.

 

There's an awful lot of win on the Marie Severin-illustrated cover, though:

Let's start with the faces in the crowd. I won't try to identify all the real-world people, but you can see Smilin' Stan (I think) to the above-right of Cap's head. And Marie made Kirby Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. Which, I mean, if I were President, I'd nominate him, if only to have a seriously awesome set of illustrated dissents for the Library of Congress.

I like how Reed and Sue and the Thing are present but no Johnny Storm. Makes sense - he'd be a security risk. All the FF would be, probably. The Secret Service would have a hell of a time keeping up with the dangers of a super-powered Presidency. But it also got me thinking of who would Cap put together for his cabinet? Is the Thing there to indicate a cabinet position? Secretary of Clobberin' Time?  

When this scene plays out inside the issue itself, the FF (and Kirby) are not present.

Finally, there's a nice nod to Invaders-era Cap in issue 253 and 254, when Cap is called overseas to the Farnsworth estate. Cap knew both elder (Union Jack) and daughter (Spitfire) during the war, as well as whom the elder suspects has returned: Baron Blood, that dastardly vampire with the National Socialist leanings.

I keep meaning to reread Invaders one of these days. I really loved that series when I discovered it (ten years after its cancellation) in high school.

Again, Cap's man-out-of-time-ness rears its head.

"Are you accusin' me of bein' a bleedin' Nazi vampire?!"
Well, sure, you put it like that...

Cap takes out the Baron in decisive fashion:

From the moment we see frail Lord Farnsworth in his wheelchair, two things are all but inevitable: he will don the Union Jack colors again, and he will die of a heart attack for the effort. Sure enough, so it goes. The end page is a nice splash and has this nice dedication, which I'm happy to end on since it goes some small way to all my snarky comments on Frank Robbins' art ("Roscoe!!") last time. The artist deserves all possible accolades, and this is a nice two-parter in his memory.

~

NEXT:  Deathlok the Demolisher! See you then.

Let's Rap About Cap, pt. 7: Man Without a Country

THE NOMAD

The theme this time around is timely for a lot of people: What does an American icon do when American iconography itself goes ass over teakettle? It was timely for Steve Englehart, author of most of the below, as well. Here he is speaking on the inspiration of his storyline:

The important takeaway to me is that Englehart wrote it in response to Nixon and Watergate, but it's not just about Nixon and Watergate. Ditto for the nowadays parallels, wherever they may fall for you. 

PRELUDE:

THE SECRET EMPIRE
Captain America #169 - 176

After many adventures together, the Falcon decides to truly keep up with Cap he needs some super powers of his own. Cap recommends the services of Harry Pym or Tony Stark, but the Falcon had someone else in mind: T'Challa, the Black Panther. ("He's black, so it would make me feel easier." Fair enough.) Cap agrees to set up a meeting and leaves for Avengers Mansion to get right on it. On the way, though, he sees a crowd gathered around a storefront window, watching some kind of program on himself.

Our old friends: C.R.A.P.

Uh-oh.

Cap punches his way into C.R.A.P. HQ (run by advertising hard man Quentin Harderman) and agrees to go to a charity event to ostensibly clear his name. It's a set-up, though, and when a villain named the Tumbler is assassinated, it's blamed on Cap. Cap flees the scene and is attacked by a hero-in-the-making (secretly bankrolled and controlled by Harderman) Moonstone.

Sooner or later this fake-hero/false-flag situation shows up in every Marvel title.

"The Secret Empire is dedicated to domination - without the people they dominate being aware of it. They often use advertising - or propaganda - produced by their agents on Madison Avenue..."

With some help from the X-Men and Gabe Jones, who helped the Hulk battle the Secret Empire over in his book, Cap and the Falcon, disguised in "City on the Edge of Forever" outfits make their way to Tennessee (home of Moonstone) and finagle to get themselves recruited by the Islamofascist-commie-kinda-anticommie-too-confusingly apparatchiks of the cult.

I'm skipping over all the stuff with Sharon Carter - undercover with the Secret Empire along with Gabe Jones - and her older-sister-later-aunt Peggy Carter - who will strike up a relationship with Gabe in the next section but is for now afflicted with amnesia, pining for her WW2 sweetheart Steve Rogers - and plenty more, but it all leads to a showdown in D.C. where Cap defeats Moonstone and chases the masked head of the Secret Empire - known only as Number One - into the White House itself, where, after a dramatic off-panel reveal, he paints the walls of the goddamn Oval Office with his brains.

So, while everything else was happening in the Marvel Universe, it is strongly implied that Richard Nixon was actually (or concurrently) the head of a cult of thrill-kill SLA John Bircher crazies. And instead of resigning - as all us rubes believe - he actually committed suicide in the White House. (This was written before Nixon's actual resignation. As Englehart alludes to up there, events were happening faster than even his comics-plotting brain could anticipate.) The next time you revisit a Marvel with cover date July 1974 just remember: this was the Watchmen-esque drama down in Washington, DC. Anytime you see Cap after this, this is the horrible secret truth he (and whomever disposed of the body and fed the resigned story/ managed Nixon's hologram appearances for David Frost, etc.) carries in his heart.

1. 

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY
Captain America #177 - 186

Englehart must have been an optimist. He imagines that Steve's reaction to such a paradigm shock would be to take a step back and self-reflect. Not retreat into "Smash the Patriarchy" memes and blaming the Russians. How can he go on being the "symbol of America" when America now means so many different things? Is the America he knew even part of the conversation? Is it a viable concept? Is he aiding the Body or destroying it? He realizes he has no honest answers to these questions and does the only honorable thing he can do: he stands down to get some time to think.

Hawkeye goads him into donning a mask, again, though, by disguising himself and trying to kill him a few times. For his own good.

And thus is born:

Sans cape.

I've always loved this costume from when I first saw it in Marvel Team-Up 146. Meanwhile, the Falcon carries on as a solo act, but various wannabes keep trying to take Cap's place. No one can, of course, although eventually a youngster named Roscoe decides to make a go of it, making up in spirit what he lacks in experience/ skills.

Things don't end well for Roscoe. Which is what prompts Steve to stop his soul-searching and accept his destiny. Before we get to that, though, the villains for this part of the story are the Red Skull and -

the Viper nee Madame Hydra.

Madame Hydra frees the Viper from prison - just so she can kill him and take his name. Very metal. She gets the Serpent Squad back together (or maybe forms them for the first time, I can't keep up) and teams up with Krang, the Sub-Mariner's old foe, who has the Serpent Crown, one of the thousands of objects in the Marvel Universe which allows for mass hypnosis and mind control. (Someone needs to Curious Goods this inventory.)

This time, it's the head of Roxxon Corporation - Marvel's stand-in for Evil Corporations Everywhere making their first appearance here - that gets kidnapped.

In these last 18 issues of his Cap run, Englehart channels all the malaise of the 70s: cynicism and distrust of government, the energy crisis, extremist groups and terrorism, and fear of corporate conglomerate power. (And lizards.)

Unfortunately, halfway through this story arc Sal Buscema was replaced by Frank Robbins. The effect is jarring. Say what you like about Robbins - I know he had a long and storied career and all possible respect, etc. - but he is an unfortunate mismatch for the tone and pace of proceedings here. 

This is what inspires Steve to become Cap again.

They never really explain the clothes, here. I mean, was he carrying an extra set? Did he strip Roscoe, somehow repair the damage to the chain mail, then put it on without washing off any of the sweat and blood and what not? And did he leave Roscoe's naked body on the roof? Maybe I missed it. Anyway - the detail above is from the cover of Cap 183, drawn by Gil Kane. Here's how Frank Robbins interprets the same scene in the issue itself:

I mean, is Steve Rogers flailing? Like putting his hands to his face and shaking them at the wrists while shrieking "OMGEEEEEEEEEEEE"? This is fargin' ridiculous and completely punctures what the hell we're supposed to be emotionally processing. How the hell did this fly? Awful. Unfortunately, the worst is yet to come.

The whole Snap Wilson thing is a really odd idea. Many have speculated that Englehart had planned to reveal that the Red Skull’s Falcon revelation was just some psychological torture of the Captain by the Skull but as it was his last issue, he never got the chance. Englehart explains otherwise: "This was one of those things I did where I toss an idea into a story and then see where it takes me. If I’d been the writer, we might have found out that it was true, or we might have found out that it was all a mind-fuck by the Skull, or we might have discovered some third or fourth solution - but I would not know until I ran with it for a while. Since I was not the writer and didn’t run, I have no idea, and when John (left the title after only two issues) the whole thing ended up going nowhere."

Robbins' art is even more out of place with this kind of stuff.

People sort of pretended it just never happened until later writers decided to try and clean it up. I'd have done the same. For this as well: 

As mentioned here: "'Cage's color is a very slim lead, but it's all I can come up with right now!' Uh, Steve, Cage's color isn't a lead at all. 'Cage is something of a detective' is a pretty good excuse to go to Luke Cage. 'Cage knows the streets of Harlem pretty well and might be able to tell me about anything unusual going on' is a pretty good excuse to go to Luke Cage. 'Cage is black and so is my friend who is missing' is actually a terrible reason to try and get his help." So say we all. At least Cage thoughtfully left a huge note stuck to the plywood covering his office entrance. Before moving on, one last thing:

EVERYONE I DON'T LIKE IS HITLER

The Red Skull tells Cap that he is commemorating the 30th anniversary of der fuhrer's suicide in the bunker. He - and Cap - must have forgotten that Hitler was actually killed by the Golden Age Human Torch and also lived on in a cloned body that became the Hate Monger. I guess neither Cap nor the Skull read either of those 60s FF annuals. Ah well.

2.

GIANT-SIZED AMERICAN ROBOT
Captain America #261 - 263

The Nomad next returns in J.M. DeMatteis' first storyline for the title in Cap 261-263. Cap is called to the West Coast to advise on a special film about his life, but as soon as he arrives he finds himself conspicuously upstaged by a mysterious stranger wearing his old Man Without a Country duds.

Nomad plays the Moonstone role with a mysterious "Teacher" orchestrating his every appearance.

Meanwhile, Cap pals around with this We Wear Short Shorts PA.

Things come to a head when during a parade to promote the film, Cap is attacked by his old foe The Ameridroid, described by our friends at SuperMegaMonkey as "such a dumb idea that it goes back around to being cool again." 

The Nomad appears, again to upstage Cap, but the Ameridroid murders him and captures Cap.

All of which leads to the big reveal of the "Teacher:"

He combines all the aforementioned schemes (discredit Captain America through Fake News, raise up a false hero, bewitch the masses through hypnotic media)

with the micro-made-macro (Giant-Sized Cap Robot).

Cap thinks little of the plan.

DeMatteis went on the greater things on Cap (such as the very next issue) but the broad strokes of this one are pleasingly meta. Like many a DeMatteis story, it's really a story of lived truth vs. manufactured truth, substance vs. spin, ethos vs. conformity. Cap has gone through the ringer on all these topics in the Secret Empire and original Nomad story; this one recalls them well while demonstrating where Cap is at as a result of having lived through them.

3.

YOU DON'T KNOW JACK

I like how these things from Cap's past keep returning in new forms - sometimes only slightly different (as Cap remarks on the Skull's scheme in the Ameridroid issues above - isn't this just C.R.A.P.'s scheme again?), other times more surprisingly. Such is the return of Jack Monroe aka 1950s Bucky, last seen getting shot by Fifties Cap.

He got better.

Things get started with Cap watching old newsreel footage of himself and Bucky and feeling old and man-out-of-time-ish.

Steve doesn't notice another figure in the dark of the theater.

50s Bucky (aka Jack Monroe) decides to follow Steve home and tell him what happened to him after they saw each other last: SHIELD detained him then stamped him "No Longer Crazy" and kicked him loose. (With no warning to Cap. Or anyone.) 

Steve greets him in the mighty Marvel manner. But once he explains himself, he's quick to offer the younger man his friendship. Because that's the kind of thing Steve Rogers does, bless him.

Faster than you can say This Little Greaseball Tried To Ethnically Cleanse Harlem Multiple Times, Steve's got the lad dressed up in one of Bucky's old outfits - who the hell keeps spare Bucky kits in the closet? What a weirdo - and out on patrol, where they're attacked by the Constricter, who's thrown in with our old pal:

The Viper. (Shooting the messenger)

Fresh off a plot in Spider-Woman, who at this point in Marvel continuity was the Viper's daughter.

Her plan is simple - another admirably-meta mish-mash of all previous Nomad appearances, right down to SHIELD having its own undercover agents in the thick of things:

It all ends with a big air balloon action sequence, which is kind of fun. The real story is the Man Without a Country come back again (that suspiciously recurring player in US history), former American Nazi, rehabilitated. Interesting choice for the visual symbolism of the Nomad uniform. Interesting symbolism all around. 

Cap's drugged up on hallucinogenic drugs for most of the story.

Another DeMatteis thematic staple.

Jack/ Nomad stuck around for the rest of my Marvel-reading days, although Gruenwald turned him into someone else entirely on his watch. We'll look at all that in turn. It's odd, though, that I consider the rehabilitated Jack Monroe here as the real McCoy and not any of his other appearances. First impressions in the comics world last for decades.

~

 NEXT: STERN and BYRNE