X-Men 169: Introducing the Morlocks, the hidden street people by Chris Claremont, Paul Smith
Jason Powell in his exhaustive and engaging Claremont posts on the blog Remarkable by Geoff Klock, describes Paul Smith:
With a line as smooth as Byrne’s but softer, as bold as Cockrum’s but possessing more dimensionality, he delivers the series into an entirely different artistic realm. Inspired by the quiet versatility of his new collaborator, Claremont takes the storytelling into new levels of psychological complexity, which seemingly draws less from the tradition of superhero comics and more from the darker and more nuanced independent comics of the day.
Their rich character development as ‘people’ sets a nifty contrast when meeting a new, mysterious group of characters that represent a profoundly alienated group, a concept as outsidery as the X-Men but without the posh mansion or Blackbird or fortune. The development of the X-Men – a group of friends who are also a quasi-family, moving towards more family-like status with things like Kurt’s flirtation with marriage-promises a rich roll-out of the Morlocks as more than shadowy villains. We’ve moved from a concept like Alpha Flight, introduced to be superhero antagonists with little investment in their personalities, to this four years later, where subtle hints of their hard-luck lives and misfortune-forged bond.
So here we go: Uncanny X-Men #169, introducing a new concept- sort of the X-books’ answer to the Fantastic Four’s discovery of the Inhumans (particularly in FF #45).
A move like this evokes the invention characteristic of the blooming Marvel Age; it’s very much in the spirit of Stan Lee’s interest in humanizing characters with thoughtful stories. The differences in the feudal Inhumans, complete with a royal family in superhero costumes, and this Claremont/ Smith innovation reflect a change of the times, a kind of post-punk take on the ‘hidden tribe’ blowing up the naturalistic depiction of gritty urban reality to science-fiction proportions.
The conflict- set up as a sort of genre-requirement- also reflects the outlaw alienation of the Morlocks. We first meet them as a mystery group of mutant-powerful subterranean invaders, breaking, entering, terrorizing. There’s no mutant more antithetical in lifestyle from what we’re about to discover of the Morlocks you could choose, than trust fund baby, glamor boy, winged superhero Warren Worthington III, aka the high-flying Angel. It’s such an intentional contrast, one cannot help reading statements about economic class into Claremont’s choice of kidnapping victim. Previous stories don’t seem to indicate a great love of The Angel on the writer’s part, but Warren’s also a convenient symbol of all the Morlocks cannot have, cannot be. He’s no aspirational figure, because the Morlocks feel, as a community, resigned to the shadows underneath the capital of the World. The single broadest stroke by which their identity is painted is their shared compassion for their exiled, freakish nature.
With that comes a bitterness equal to fueling their villainy- which is aspirational in the only way they know how: rip down someone epitomizing all to which they are forever barred, recast him in chains as consort to their cunning leader, Callisto. Make him an Angel cast from the heavens. In their anger and anguish and jealousy, there is no crime that can be committed against a man who has it all that is worse than the fate in which they’ve been dumped to squirm and survive.
Now, there are problematic undertones: in today’s terms, we’re on the verge of depicting disenfranchised terrorists. The Morlocks are a deviation of the culture from which they feel excised. They are not direct victims of ongoing aggression from the establishment, but rather, of neglect, and personal exclusion, bigotry. This does upend the X-Men’s role in the series as champion of the disenfranchised- a point more often than not lost to this juncture. They are typically portrayed as superheroes in the interest of all humanity, a sort of ambassador of the emergent genetically-redefined race. From the start, their role as superheroes- an undercurrent of all superheroes- makes them protectors of the status quo. They are also protectors of mutants facing discrimination and fear, as per their mission to explore new mutant appearances via Cerebro. That story engine’s largely been abandoned at this point.
AT any rate, what do you do when those you wish to protect, those with whom you would be conciliatory, engage in violent anarchy? It’s hard to champion those who kidnap and terrorize your friends- but that’s how they’ll meet the Morlocks.
“Catacombs”
We open with Warren’s’ girlfriend Candy Southern, a nice, even brave person, returning home in a life of privilege. By the simple expediency of the very tall wall framing Candy, Smith tells us the penthouse is enormous. The scattered feathers- addressed with nervous humor in “Lover, are you molting?”- kick off the threat, the defilement- taut suspense comes immediately. She calls Xavier, a humanitarian who lives in a mansion, for help- with an automated phone system that also reflects, in 1983, status. The massive figure, who introduces himself menacingly as Sunder, looms over her, like any home intruder, promising unequivocally: “I am here to hurt you.”
Candy no doubt hoped to come home to a scene not unlike the one shared next by Kurt Wagner and Amanda Sefton. They flirt in a bubble bath, teasing an openness about marriage. His blue skin and outre yet handsome appearance represents an idyllic acceptance- happiness for someone marked by his very looks as a mutant. Danger separates them now, too- for Kurt is an X-Man. When it comes to hurrying to the aid of one of their own- as conveyed by Professor X’s telepathic communication-Kurt doesn’t even stop for clothes. Nakedness-not just bikinis on females-begins becoming a X-Men specialty, a covertly salacious means of conveying more mature themes. We see a lot more nude X-Men, only recently including male teammates.
Demonstrating his ability to cling to surfaces and most importantly, to teleport, Nightcrawler’s rescue of the waning Worthington in Sunder’s arms departing the subway halts. Candy’s sent smashing out a window to fall to her doom, save for his power. With his skill, he is fortunately within the couple miles’ proximity limit of his ability to move through extra-dimensional limbo and reappear somewhere else he can clearly visualize with a “bamf!” We get a hilarious, unceremonious dumping of Candy into Amanda’s bath, with further titillation in the form of his still-nude protesting girlfriend. They know the way to their adolescent fans’ hearts. Don’t kid yourself, it was never just the specter of Death alone that sold X-Men like nothing else. What’s better, too, than having powers and a girlfriend than to interact with both, nude? What liberation, right, in using reality-defying powers, also while unclothed?
It’s fair to say, a physical, warm relationship with an attractive person (to say nothing of the taboo where Kurt and Amanda were raised together, unaddressed here) represents as a vital an adolescent yearning as the more juvenile power fantasy.
Every serial needs a suffusion of new characters, along with a continuing development of interesting ongoing ones-we’ll get to the latter point shortly. Introductions, when I first chose a theme for this discussion, stuck out as a good one, with the care and flaws implicit in introducing the Morlocks. For one, unless you have a one-off of deep reverberating effect on the lead character, why not introduce concepts and characters that can flourish in future interactions- with your title character (s), in this case with the shared universe? Editorially: who fits what story, how do you cast them, what pieces of information do you wish to share in framing your concept, and how patient are you and how much space do you have for subtle tease-outs exploring both the concept and characters?
Claremont, of all Marvel writers, doubling down on a plotting style like Wein’s Spider-Man webs in the 1970s, loves introducing new concepts, nearly with a Kirby-esque lack of regard for the space he’ll need to develop them all. He’s already busy developing story lines for previous antagonists, now seen as quasi-supporting characters. As Powell cleanly noted, they’re all dealing with the fall out from epics past: Mystique & the Brotherhood (Days of Future Past), and the Hellfire Club (Phoenix Saga), the latter of which we encounter in their own sympathetic scene. The captions, and the silhouetted Sebastian Shaw appearing twice, make no mistake of his level of menace-how the Hellfire Club is a mutant-infiltrated opposite to the Morlocks. They seem haunted by madness within their own catacombs (also a metaphor for hidden conflict as well as the past). I don’t recall who was behind laying White Queen low, comatose as she lies beneath Tessa’ ministrations. Shaw’s musings provide a false foreshadowing, as does the look at Mystique coming soon, to increase parallels of the suggestion that Madelayne Prior will turn out to be the returned Dark Phoenix. Perhaps it’s a consciousness about space, rather than a lack of ideas, that will precipitate the X-Men’s brush-off of their alienated counterparts. It’s unfortunate that these are also unglamorous characters that echo some real life awkwardness, for anyone who’s opened their eyes in most urban American settings. In this case, their limited contact will yield disastrous consequences when the Marauders come calling around #210.
How do you set loose the X-Men on a quest for justice-when you know their foes will turn out to live not just on, but under, the streets- and not have them ideologically align with, say, the Los Angeles Police Department of that era? (You know, too, some of your readership wouldn’t have a problem with that- they like superheroes because they are extra-legal agents of law and order.) You have to make it personal; first things first, they gather in a living room to prepare their search for their helpless, endangered friend. He’s very fortunate, indeed, he has powerful, courageous friends. The fact that he is a mutant- and that’s why they’re friends-happens to be what marks him for kidnapping, adding a level to the exclusion-borne angst of Callisto and her followers.
We get a neatly layered reference, the sort Claremont did so well, where Amanda offers to guard Candy and watch after Lockheed- after all, her (sorcerer) mother taught her about caring for dragons. Every detail’s a potential story. Storm, Kitty and Kurt discuss Lockheed’s alien nature. It’s very relatable, comic relief: who is who’s pet? Appearances don’t tell the whole tale. The X-Men will have to leave their resources, their perch of privilege- the hand-held Cerebro’s only keyed to Angel, Xavier can’t penetrate the catacombs psionically, and he won’t loan them Wolfsbane – no New Mutants on missions. Descent, from penthouse to the catacombs- a clear psychological metaphor. From the point Nightcrawler exposed himself...to the cold..they’re coerced out of their safety, a plausible point of identification for most readers poised for vicarious excitement. The back cover advertises: Become a Jedi Master Without Ever Leaving Home. But in the Catacombs arena, for our mutants it’s no game!
For the second storyline in a row, the X-Men are essentially invaders, albeit provoked in both instances. In both cases, the setting introduced is integral to the concept. On the trail of the violent kidnappers, Claremont/Smith/Wiacek now introduce the Morlocks in earnest.
Strategic use of their home turf, and the mysteries of their powers, will give them an advantage. Nightcrawler recalls the token booth operator had taken sick, swarms of paramedics- “the opposition plays rough.” The rushing train, the smells: it’s antithetical to Storm, as concerned Colossus notes. Kitty’s phasing unveils a hidden door in the wall. We get Storm’s musings about life as an outcast, hints of her past-all throughout, the other X-Men will be concentrating on unraveling her thoughts, centralizing her. Kitty’s posture as she ponders Storm’s distant bitterness: introverted, sad. From the stairway’s high ground, a wave of menacing Morlocks rush down, testing the X-Men’s powers. And Kitty’s spying is betrayed to Callisto’s hyper senses- suddenly Plague’s left a touch of death, even through her intangible state. Concerned as ever for one another, as their skirmish concludes, the male X-men feel emotional distress at Storm’s careful leadership call- a revulsion she resents. Necessity’s busy pushing Ororo from serene goddess to hardened warrior, a knife’s edge removed from madness.
We discover Caliban- obscured at first, a recurrent mutant tracker introduced in #148-lives at some remove among the Morlocks. His desperation to help the ailing Kitty Pryde presents a step deeper into what will be a moral catacomb: Kitty will save herself and her friends through a Hobson’s Choice next issue, and it will embroil them all with the Morlocks again. Caliban, a decided contrast to regal Medusa, parallels the way we met one Inhuman before the rest- as an antagonist-before the rest.
Dwarfed beneath the surprisingly well-maintained tunnels-in real life, I believe they’re there to relieve flooding such as from Hurricane Sandy, beneath the subways- the three X-Men are blinded, spotlighted- then confronted with the sadistic sight of Angel, nearly naked and unconscious. Finally face-to-face, leader Callisto explains she’s chosen him, “the most beautiful Man in the world,” as her consort. Her turgid desire evokes more haunting memories from Ororo- of the time she was twelve, when a man’s advances caused her to become a runaway, an outcast, herself. Peter’s moral apprehension frames his character and invites us to further outrage in assessing these otherwise pitiable sub-city dwellers. Then she apparently begins trying to cripple his wings, as though for his own good!
This time, the nameless hordes somehow overwhelm both Kurt and Peter through sheer numbers, and some hinted hidden power leeching. Storm’s taken down with a simple slingshot and steel ball bearing, dangerous, efficient, in Callisto’s sure hands. From their darkness to Kitty’s queasy emergence from her sickened sleep, we see her deliriously confused that she’s safely at home. And if her would-be savior Caliban has anything to say about it...these catacombs will now, indeed- be home.
When Storm makes her breath-taking challenge for Morlock leadership next issue, the drama for her very soul will heighten. Moral compromise abounds, as I believe Claremont intended: he knows Rogue will come desperate and helpless to their door in #171. He does not intend for heroic choices, even right ones, to come easily. He will let the X-Men walk away from the needs of the Morlocks at their own peril. He seizes upon a sublimated fear of what we cannot do for those we might pity; only those with time and resources and will ever volunteer to make life better for real life street people. Even the sickness transferred by Plague’s touch strikes a nerve with prejudices and class distinctions, as if somehow the calamities that have befallen the less fortunate, or those they brought on themselves in addiction, might somehow infect one’s secure, healthy life.
The moral obligations don’t factor into this introduction in so large a way, but re-reading this and thinking on the social caste question- side-stepped initially by the nature of Marvel’s best-selling comic, which taught tolerance so many times in its adventures- I reflected on the hard reality on the sidewalks of my former big city life. I gave away, with my wife, over a thousand dollars on a big city street over the years: food, conversation, flowers. You rarely have the personal resources to address every single beggar. I assure you, even in temperate San Diego, it never gets easy to simply ignore the homeless, sleeping in the shadows of barely-filled condos, with needs overwhelming what any two working class people can do. It is human to shut the door to a one-room apartment, conflicted you can’t do more, grateful for what you have, hopeful you made any difference. It makes socialists or libertarians of us. Even a degree of desensitization cannot go ignored by any person of conscience.
Further, as several homeless people over time told me in our talks, the greatest threat, aside from being moved along by police, is that another street person will steal from you Why do the Morlocks work together? Even when, as Sunder states, it seems wrong to attack people you recognize as your own? They are bound by need as well as prejudice. They embody Stan Lee’s model of sympathetic villains to a T. A strip from their perspective might not have yielded action figures and lunch boxes and back packs, but even Marvel-style escapism would evolve past these halting steps.
Powell praises Smith’s psychological complexity and inventive sense of layouts; he considers his assignment to X-Men “serendipitous” to Claremont’s writing evolution prompted by his work with Miller on the Wolverine mini-series.
The two-parter inaugurated here has been convincingly deconstructed by Neil Shyminski in his essay “Mutant Readers, Reading Mutants: Appropriation, Assimilation, and the X-Men” for its dismally simplified identity politics, wherein, as Shyminski says, “[the Morlocks] are figured as villains as a direct result of their refusal to conform to non-mutant norms.”
Actually, in more prosaic plot-terms, they are figured as villains because inside of the first five pages they commit breaking & entering, kidnapping and attempted murder. But the point is well taken, nonetheless.
Once again, there’s a modern corollary in society that makes our choice of these comics relevant: one might interpret today’s mission by ICE agents as an effort to step amid the immigrant community to find the criminals within. One might find another between the sanctuary cities situation and the Morlocks. Depending on their leadership, what identity would these Morlock survivors choose: a haven for those who refuse to join a gang? A gang themselves? A force to stand against crime, themselves? What would happen to someone who wants to leave the Morlocks? They’re a durable story concept. It’s not enough that they be villains, nor victims.
I certainly wish we had more than five initial issues of Hero Duty, because early on I wanted at least one scene that mixes the legally-deputized superbeings (and one very controversial, satirical villain I created in an acrimonious moment of inspiration) with the troubles of policing in a community mixing some gang activity with illegal immigrants living beside legal ones. How does one address civil order and justice? My antagonist would, of course, go overboard taking the law into his own hands. Perhaps I can find the way to feed that modern difficulty deftly into my novel, The Butterfly. At any rate, I don’t doubt that if the Morlocks debuted today, they would be a home not only to dejected, angry outcasts. Their catacombs would be a haven to those otherwise hiding from the law, as almost certainly, criminals who found the Morlocks would’ve chosen a life with them as opposed to expatriate exile. It’s problematic territory, leaving the safety of fantasy to interact with harsh realities. Doesn’t your mind sparkle with the possibilities?
FIN
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