Avengers Academy #2

Avengers Academy #2 actually came out last Wednesday, and real life commitments (also known as work, chores and attempting to eke out a healthy, financially responsible social life between them) have prevented me from settling down with a cup of matcha and giving this issue a thorough little look-see. Fortunately, I managed to somehow get ahead of schedule at work for the first time in I don’t know how long. Instead of plopping down with the last disc of Mad Men‘s 3rd season, I’m following through with my monthly synthesis of overanalyzing literary criticism and unapologetic geekery.

The sophomore issue shifts narration from archetypal (yet still intriguing) teenager Veil to her staggeringly different contemporary Jeanne “Finesse” Foucault (significant name?). As with the previous perspective, writer Christos Gage uses familiar characterizations as a starting point for some potentially revealing deconstructions later on in the story. With Finesse, he slowly starts building upon the broad foundation of an exceptionally brilliant individual who can figure out anything except human emotions. She is essentially the Dr. Manhattan of the Avengers Academy series, albeit with different superpowers and under a different set of circumstances. Unlike her big, blue, bare counterpart in Watchmen, she possesses the ability to absorb knowledge at an accelerated rate – essentially mastering skills both academic and physical in a matter of minutes. A polymath with an eidetic memory, Finesse  picks up everything from advanced robotics to back room billiards through reading, witnessing and even watching videos. The transition between Veil’s wavering self-esteem and the arrogance of this issue’s narrator certainly jarred me.

Gage treads no new territory with this character at first, though small pockets hinting at greater depth and questioning begin to emerge as her story progresses. This technique right here leads me to believe that he means to begin dissecting the familiar further into the series – anything too new right off the bat may compromise the effectiveness of any compelling, impacting changes and growth to come. I am curious to see if my theory proves correct. One of the most obvious hints Gage drops involves an introspective interlude where Finesse gives herself a brief round of psychoanalysis. After inadvertently embarrassing Reptil in front of the other students and watching Hazmat destroying a berserk Arsenal (more on that later), she reflects upon the concept of alexithymia.

Alexithymia manifests itself alongside a surprisingly broad spectrum of mental and developmental conditions. It involves, as Finesse’s character epitomizes, “a deficiency in understanding, processing or describing emotions” (12). Although present in clinical depression, eating disorders, post traumatic stress disorder and other illnesses, Gage initially narrows down the source of Finesse’s inability to 2 options. She mulls over the autism spectrum and clinical psychopathy, noting how she does not think she fits the diagnostic criteria for the former. The true origins remain unknown – and they probably will for the foreseeable future. Navigating this character will certainly prove a challenge for reader and writer alike now that psychology has explicitly factored into her story – most especially if it comes to pass that she lay on the autism spectrum. I’ve done plenty of research on the subject for work. I’ve met  and talked to many individuals with diagnoses of autism and Asperger’s as well as their families. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time came extremely close to genuinely capturing everything I have learned about the subject so far, and just about the only thing Finesse has in common with any of it is the alexithymia.

Her calculated blackmail against veteran Avenger and Academy instructor Pietro “Quicksilver” Maximoff will prove problematic should Gage decide to take the autism route with Finesse. As is, individuals with developmental and mental health issues already struggle against negative portrayal in the media. Because the polymath’s portrayal involves acts that parallel psychopathic and sociopathic behavior, anything heavier than a delicate hand can lead to some extremely unfortunate implications. That does not, of course, mean that she cannot be written as a well-rounded autistic character with a nice balance of positives and negatives. Gage just needs to approach her with painstaking care if he hopes to play with such concepts. As she currently stands, however, Finesse shares far more in common with individuals I have met who fit the diagnostic criteria of sociopathy. Not only does she mimic human emotion and behavior rather than genuinely feel it, she also brashly bucks common courtesy and generally approaches others as if completely above universal moral constructs.

More specifically, Finesse sees no issue with manipulating her teachers in order to win their favor and receive special training. She takes a cue from Veil and unsuccessfully attempts to flirt with Hank Pym, but manages to find success in blackmailing Quicksilver for the same terrorist training he underwent during his stint with the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. The scene where she nonchalantly threatens to expose his battery of lies from the later issues of the now-defunct Mighty Avengers comes off as initially chilly. As if she sees other people as little more than stepping stones towards attaining her own wants, caring little about who may get hurt along the way. Reading it reminded me far too much of my own dealings with such individuals in real life.

However, Gage does leave a door open for Finesse to grow into her own as a true hero someday. She ought not be dismissed as truly sociopathic only 2 issues into the series, especially given this one’s overarching theme of free will. Quicksilver and Greer “Tigra” Nelson verbally spar with one another over the direction their lessons have taken. Behind the backs of his fellow instructors, Quicksilver had applied experiences gained under association his mutant separatist father Magneto to the Avengers Academy classroom. He ordered the repair of the indestructible but thankfully nonlethal battle robot Arsenal and launched a surprise assault on the students at breakfast. Although he hoped to teach him the potentially lifesaving skill of preparedness and improvisation, the others took issue with forcing them to unexpectedly undergo such trauma so early in their academic careers.

Pym decides to take a more diplomatic approach and asks the students themselves for their input on whether or not they found such lessons effective, putting them in control of their own educations. He effectively restores their free will after Quicksilver attempted to symbolically snatch it away. A later conversation between Hazmat and Finesse propels plumbs this theme even deeper. The former grows more cynical with her education as the breakfast battle dredged up the anger she still felt over well-intentioned lies exposed in the previous issue. Along with her other classmates, she looks towards Finesse for answers. Her response succinctly sums up the entire concept of free will, one which I’m almost certain will prove indispensable to the series. She instructs her peers to learn everything they can from everyone who is willing to teach them. Once they feel as if they have soaked up enough from the world around them, they can make the contentious decision to pursue a path of either heroism or villainy. She demonizes neither choice, merely acknowledging that such a duality exists.

Therefore, it is entirely possible that she sees the terrorist training she manipulates her way into receiving from Quicksilver through the same neutral lens. After all, as Finesse narrates her life up to this point she makes note of how she embraces knowledge as knowledge – no matter where she finds it. The Avengers fear her because she willingly accepted an education from Norman Osborne…but they never made note of how she approached the opportunities they had to offer with the same enthusiasm. In spite of the blackmail, one can still interpret Finesse as morally neutral – she cares not for good or evil, but rather learning everything about everything. Gage could very easily kick her over to the hero’s side, using her intimate understanding of terrorist tactics to better thwart their activities. As with all her peers, she can easily succumb to the darkness or the lightness that resides in everyone.

Much like founding Avenger and current Academy headmaster Hank Pym, really. In spite of a storied history dating all the way back to January of 1962 (that’s older than my dad!), Pym never really scored too many fans until his recent revival as the Marvel Universe’s resident Dr. Who at the hands of Dan Slott. Part of this has to do with his spotty characterization as an explicitly mentally ill superhero. Possessive of a crippling inferiority complex and prone to nervous breakdowns and panic attacks – he even attempts suicide at one point – Pym could have easily become a wonderful study in resilience and fortitude in spite of crushing internal setbacks.

Instead, he cycles to extremes depending on the writer’s ability to sensitively and realistically portray mental illness…not to mention whether or not he or she even likes him in the first place! Jim Shooter had him suffer from a nervous breakdown and backhand his wife (Wasp, incidentally my favorite superhero), an unfortunate incident that furthered the negative stigmas attached to mental illnesses and resulted in future inconsistent characterizations. Kurt Busiek and Dan Slott both established him as a deeply troubled man who worked hard and yearned to rise above his mistakes and personal demons – extremely sensitive, realistic portrayals of how good people sometimes feel really bad things inside. Gage has thankfully been playing with this particular interpretation, hinting at the cracks without branding Pym as detestable for possessing them. Chuck Austen saw him as an impotent, whiny and ineffectual loser, losing the love of his life to a close friend who suddenly hates him. And almost everything in between.

I could devote a plethora of entries to the psychology of Hank Pym alone, but the similarities between him and Finesse are so undeniable she even brings it up herself. Both of them must grapple with either a mental or a developmental disorder, though the specifics of the latter remain hazy for the time being. This persistent inner struggle to try and make sense of the frequent nonsense that is human nature can lead to either devastating or world-saving consequences. Pym’s history comes with more than his fair share of both, and Finesse carries that very same potential. I hope that Gage uses his series to dispel many of the sadly negative depictions of the mentally and/or developmentally disordered in the media.

Bibliographic Information

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

~Riot

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