Avengers Academy #1

Because I’m trying something a bit new by (hopefully) digging pretty deeply into the psychoanalytic and thematic devices of Avengers Academy, it stands to reason that these particular entries will contain a good amount of spoilers. I try to avoid them in my book reviews, but this particular project is going to veer more towards the literary criticism end of the spectrum – meaning that opening up plot twists and character nuances is unavoidable.

If possible, please give me some feedback as to whether or not you like this format. I’m hoping to expand my more in-depth analyses of literature on Burning Leaves, making it a place for non-spoiled reviews as well as dissections of different books that specifically peer into what many would consider spoiler territory. I’m starting off with a superhero comic because it seems like a genre where few consider that some – and I freely admit not all - titles actually come packed with excellent material for a formal (or semi-formal in my case) literary criticism session. Avengers Academy promises plenty.

Madeline “Veil” Berry (also known as “Maddy”) serves as this issue’s narrator, so we get a nice glimpse inside her head as she navigates her first day as ostensibly the best of the best metahumans rescued from torture at the hands of Norman Osborne’s Dark Reign. As we’ll see with her classmates, Gage portrays his new characters - all of them former victims of diabolical torment - with broader personality baselines. I’m fine with this in a first issue, since it (hopefully) promises a higher degree of development and analysis – maybe some deconstruction if we’re lucky - later on down the line. Too much too soon drives an audience away and ruins any sort of organic, believable growth.

“Believable” is actually a grand word to expand upon here. Because Avengers Academy #1 revolves less around action and emphasizes character and theme over plot for the time being, it is key for Gage to establish his creations as familiar and comfortable figures who could easily veer off into a multitude of different directions. And, by the end of the book, he does exactly that. Narrator Veil once passed her teenage years as an impoverished, apparently friendless young woman who finds herself cruelly victimized by her classmates. Humberto “Reptil” Lopez sports an upbeat, friendly confidence and outgoing personality. Ken “Mettle” Mack initially comes off as an optimistic sweetie-pie of a gentle giant. Jennifer “Hazmat” Takeda snips, snaps, and snarks her way through her interactions with everyone, be they teacher or student. Polymath Finesse and lightning-themed Striker both boast abrasive, self-centered personalities, with the former preferring isolating herself from what she perceives as dead weight classmates and the latter a depressing commentary on contemporary society’s obsession with fame, glory, and waves of attention.

Narrator Veil recently discovered her power to transform into different types of gases is killing her, resulting in what seems to be a budding emotional clinginess towards instructor Vance “Justice” Astrovik – and her constant obsession with the shape of her body reveals what may very well be an escalating case of body dysmorphia. Reptil’s cheerfulness reads as a disconcerting mask for post-traumatic stress disorder once you realize that Osborne likely tortured him worse than any of the other students. Mettle’s submissiveness, sweetness and self-awareness may very well end up resulting in abuse at the hands of others and conformity to negative self-fulfilling prophecies. Hazmat’s prickly anger is understandable when Justice reveals that her body’s toxicity and radiation unintentionally killed her dog, sent her boyfriend to the hospital, made both her parents very ill and ruined her chances to get into college – not to mention the fact that she now must whittle away the rest of her life in a containment suit. Finesse’s intense (and very, very chilling) self-centeredness and lack of emotional awareness very much reminds me of a sociopath I once knew. And Striker’s persistent braggadocio and lust for attention is pretty self-explanatory.

The final reveal of the book shows that these kids were not recruited because The Avengers thought of them as special little snowflakes to be shaped and molded into the heroes of tomorrow. They were recruited out of fear, because their psychological profiles flagged them as possessing character traits more common to villians. Every single one of these new characters now traipses a tightrope wire between doing great good or descending into outright evil. Players in a fantastic world facing down very real, very universal themes. Likely archetypes we have encountered at various points in our lives – I know I have, at least. In adding this dimension to the story, Gage piques interest in learning more about how these characters come to grips with balancing the lightness and darkness within themselves. Suffice to say, not everyone sports that sort of self-control. Surely one of more will end up descending into madness or villainy, and with all of them possessing the possibility to snap readers are playing a safe literary game of Russian Roulette.

Because Veil narrated this issue, she makes for a lovely example of the binary struggles that all the students must confront at some point during the series. This story bookends with her feeling betrayed and humiliated, first by her peers in high school who frown upon her poverty and awkwardness and again upon realizing that her recruitment into Avengers Academy was a result of her possible vulnerability to the sweet temptations of villainy. Even at the beginning of the story, she – tragically like many teenage girls – considers herself an aesthetic stain upon humanity. Gage hints that much of her poor body image (especially regarding breast size) actually stems from idolizing Ms. Marvel. As someone who has done extensive research on body dysmorphia, I found it a nice, subtle commentary regarding the physical portrayal of women in comic books, if not the media at large. In addition to her sad and relatable relationship with her externals, Veil’s other hurdle involves the recent revelation that Osborne’s torture unnaturally altered her core molecular structure. She possesses more sophisticated powers that allow her to transform into different types of gas, but the artificial jump-start will lead to an inevitable and permanent dissolving. Almost all of Veil’s major issues stem directly from perceptions and realities of her physical being, and the resulting insecurities and fears can very easily lead her down a questionable path. As is, she already emotionally fixates on inaccessible authority figure Justice – a one-sided relationship that will likely result in further hurt and vulnerability. These very real character flaws need only a few nudges to send her veering off into extremely constructive or devestatingly destructive ends, which Justice explicitly references upon witnessing her understandable emotional outburst following news of her deadly condition.

When the list of core instructors at Avengers Academy was revealed – Hank Pym, Quicksilver, Justice, Tigra, and Speedball - many fans expressed outrage that more popular and, frankly, stable characters such as Captain America and Thor weren’t chosen. Personally, I loved it. Even without knowing the final twist, I considered them all excellent choices. All of Gage’s picks harbor the same darkness as their students, making them far more able to relate to the kids in their care and better personalize lessons. All of them (at least) once swam the tempest of wrenching emotional torment as a result of their own actions, and they seek to prevent others from emulating their mistakes. Icons like Thor and Captain America rarely plumb the more twisted, frightening corners of the human psyche the way these seasoned heroes have. It’s why you get former addicts to lead recovery seminars. Even factoring out the “students-as-potential-villians” plot twist, I think the teachers all needed solid redemption stories and possessed the negative (and positive) elements of their hero careers necessary to establish a well-rounded syllabus.

A couple of parallels cropped up between the students and the instructors as well, I noticed. Like Pym, Finesse possesses an astounding intellect and curiousity to learn new skills, yet neither are able to genuinely relate to others on an emotional level. Though where Pym’s isolation leads more to depression, desperation and rash actions, Finesse comes off at first as a truly frightening sociopath. Both Quicksilver and Striker gravitate towards obnoxious arrogance and showboating, the result of extremely unhealthy relationships with one parent. Striker’s circumstances have yet to apparate in the comics, though Marvel makes explicit mention of them in one article. Justice and Hazmat both accidentally lost family members as a result of their powers manifesting, and Speedball and Reptil have had their spunky personalities compromised by nauseating guilt and torture. I’m hoping that Gage will address many of these similarities in due time, as they seem intentionally constructed.

The major overarching theme of the book revolves around the ethics of lying to students with the hopes of encouraging them to live up to their positive attributes rather than giving in to their negative. Pym explicitly states that hiding the potentially villainous profiles from the students will bolster their confidence and prevent them from slipping into dangerous self-fulfilling prophecies. Jennifer and Caroline at Fantastic Fangirls delve into the philosophies and psychologies behind educating children and the role they play in Avengers Academy far better than my minimal teaching experiences ever could. Even then, though, their assessment makes perfect sense even with the pedagogy facet factored out. The more individuals are exposed to negative criticism about themselves, the more likely they are to give in to them and put forth little effort towards self-improvement. When used in an educational setting, it does bring up some muddied ethical questions about whether or not lying to a student will help or hinder his or her performance - not to mention how to handle the situation of compromised trust once it becomes public knowledge. Such a situation occurs at the very end of this issue, with the students finding out exactly what their instructors have been hiding. It will be fascinating to see which of them ultimately use the information to prove the predictions wrong or just give in to evil temptations.

Mettle, I think, seems to be the character to watch out for the most. Gentle and seemingly kindhearted, prior to the big revelation he already makes note of he and his teammate’s destructive potential once the training sessions begin. But after finding out that his mentors have him pegged as a possible future villian, he looks as sad, betrayed and dejected as a young man constructed of solid iridium can. Blending this self-awareness with finally realizing what authority figures actually make of him can very easily lead to some potent events and bits of character development down the line.

This definitely reads as a far darker and morally grey interpretation of both the “older heroes training a new generation” and “teen drama” subgenre and genre, respectively. Gage definitely has the potential to completely deconstruct much of what we know about the tropes and archetypes associated with them, and with the twist at the end of the first issue I’m sincerely hoping that’s his ultimate goal. It’s definitely fertile territory for analysis of the familiar characters, themes and events, and it would be nice to see them filtered through a creative, critical lens that steers them in a new direction.

Bibliographic Information

Gage, Christos, writer. Avengers Academy. Art by Mike McKone. New York: Marvel, 2010. Print.

~Riot