The Definitives: Hawkeye

Tom Brevoort once told me that Hawkeye was “the Wolverine of his day” (he was actually talking more about The Thing and using Hawkeye as a supplementary, but as said supplementary example better serves this post, that’s what I’ll be going with). Basically what he meant is that when the Avengers weren’t far from their founding and Marvel hadn’t gone too long into the Silver Age, Hawkeye was the rebellious voice questioning Captain America’s more conservative values in the same way Wolverine would later chafe against Cyclops and so on as this is a dynamic you’ll find in just about every super hero team past the Justice League from the 60’s.

Like Wolverine, Hawkeye was the loose cannon who did what he wanted despite the rules and did so with a brash tone, loud mouth and often disregard for the safety of himself and the property around him (he’s always been pretty good about shielding teammates and civilians though). Also like Wolverine, Hawkeye became pretty popular as a result of this; not three or four ongoing solo series at once popular (he’s had his books here and there, but I’d say general consensus is the character works better with others to play off of in a team setting), but he did ok.

Unlike Wolverine and his more modern ilk, Hawkeye was the bad boy of a more traditional time, so he talked a big game, but he still adhered to a relatively traditional moral code that excluded killing and extreme violence; in the recent past, some writers have had him walk the line of violating that, and an argument could be made that his experiences have led him that way, but I believe deep down Clint Barton still finds murder to be anathema, regardless of the reason why.

I think the combination of Hawkeye’s similarities to the loose cannon characters he’s something of the godfather to with the contrast against those that came later is why I like him so much. I’ve always been partial to the wisecracking smartass super hero, but I also like the swashbuckling romantic vibe of years gone by; Clint Barton combines the best of both worlds on that score. He will always speak his mind, he falls in love too easily and he’s far from fully matured emotionally, but he’ll also do the right thing when the chips are down, and even though he’ll drive Captain America nuts, he’ll also be the first to come to his defense when anybody else does it.

Gotta love the guy.

I should offer the disclaimer that I was not an avid Solo Avengers or West Coast Avengers reader growing up and have never really caught up on either, so I’ve got a pretty sizable Hawkeye blind spot (though I have read Hawkeye: Blind Spot), but here are my favorite stories featuring the Avenging Archer that I’d recommend to anybody looking to learn more about that dude with the bow and arrow who Jeremy Renner is playing.

HONORABLE MENTION: AVENGERS #223
A classic to be sure, as Hawkeye heads back to his old carnival stomping grounds and clashes with Taskmaster, who’s holding the show hostage, leading to the seminal shrunken Ant-Man on an arrow routine. It’s a fun story, and I’m a fan, but I think it’s actually a better Ant-Man and even Taskmaster yarn, not quite capturing the essential Hawkeye.

AVENGERS: EARTH’S MIGHTIEST HEROES
I love this series on the whole, and every character gets their time in the sun, but really Hawkeye’s story is my favorite part. Joe Casey really nails how the bulk of the early Avengers were good guys (and one girl), but thrown together by circumstance as a team and in many cases only acting as heroes because an accident led them to their situation (Iron Man and his shrapnel, Thor and his exile, Hulk and his…being The Hulk); even Captain America became an Avenger mostly because they found him and he needed guidance in a strange world. Hawkeye’s the one guy who actively seeks to become an Avenger, because even though he started as a villain, it’s never what he wanted. Casey’s story captures the driven desire of Clint Barton to do the right thing even when conventional wisdom stacks the odds against him, plus there’s an excellent relationship between him and Jarvis, and Scott Kolins draws one of my favorite Hawkeyes.

AVENGERS #189
Hawkeye gets tossed off the Avengers by Henry Peter Gyrich in order to fill a government quota (also, Gyrich doesn’t really like Hawkeye since the first time they met Clint tied him up, thinking he was an intruder in Avengers Mansion), but rather than mope for too long, he decides to show them it’s their loss. He swoops into Cross Technological Enterprises and auditions for their Head of Security gig by foiling their current system. Clint kicks back and looks forward to a relatively easy new occupation, only for Shi’ar super villain Deathbird to show up looking for trouble. Hawkeye is totally outclassed against a cosmic-level threat like Deathbird, but that’s when he’s at his best, using his wits to get through the situation, smiling as he does it and then stealing a kiss from the alien cutie when he’s done. This issue is basically a capsule bio for everything cool about Hawkeye (plus great John Byrne art).

HAWKEYE (1983)
The first true solo Hawkeye adventure, both written and drawn by the late, great Mark Gruenwald, who it turns out was a heck of an artist! Uncovering corruption at CTE, Clint investigates alongside former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Mockingbird and runs afoul of the dude who would become his archenemy, Crossfire. It’s a fun caper that packs tons of action into only four issues and allows Gruenwald to widen Hawkeye’s range a bit, playing him as devil-may-care adventurer and hothead, but also delving into his deeper emotions and giving him a deep romantic subplot. Speaking of which, the chemistry between Hawkeye and Mockingbird is dynamite right from the start; you’re rooting for them from the get-go, and the end result doesn’t disappoint.

AVENGERS & JLA/AVENGERS BY KURT BUSIEK & GEORGE PEREZ
When Kurt Busiek and George Perez brought Avengers back from Heroes Reborn, establishing Hawkeye as a key member of the team was clearly a top priority. When everybody gets mind wiped and sent to Morgan le Fay’s crazy Camelot world, Clint is the first guy Captain America “wakes up” because he recognizes that Hawkeye is the heart of the Avengers. During the roster-building issue, you get the great thread of Hawkeye taking Firestar and Justice under his wing, and then doing the double take when Cap messes with him by offering them his spot on the team. And from there, the Avenging Archer departs in pretty rapid fashion, shuttled over to Thunderbolts by Busiek, where he did more great stuff with him and stayed true to another core element of the character: he goes where he is needed, not necessarily where he wants to be. Busiek and Perez reunited years later on JLA/Avengers and made this fan smile by having Hawkeye and Flash (not Wally West, but still) be the guys to pull the classic against all odds save when all seems lost.

HAWKEYE & MOCKINGBIRD
I don’t feel it’s favoritism at all to put my buddy Jim McCann’s series on here, because his passion for the character of Hawkeye (and of Mockingbird) in my mind created a fun arc that will hold up nicely in an evergreen sense, and the best thing is it was born out of love. You won’t meet a bigger Hawkeye fan than Jim, and his desire to do right by the character, not only telling the kinds of stories he loved but that can spread the appeal to a new generation, went a long way in my book. It’s a nice bookend to Mark Gruenwald’s series, with lots of callbacks, plus several love letters to the Marvel Universe along the way. It also doesn’t hurt that artist David Lopez is a gem and that Mockingbird’s brother’s name is Ben Morse; a great easy-to-acquire gateway to Hawkeye.

CAPTAIN AMERICA & THE AVENGERS
Hawkeye’s video game debut! Super fun, tons of characters, rad graphics, and the suspension of disbelief that Hawkeye’s bow when held horizontal is an equally powerful protector to Captain America’s shield, Iron Man’s armor and the Vision’s intangibility. Also: sky sleds!

First Impressions (and more): Wonder Woman

My first memory of Wonder Woman (as a comic book fan—blah blah blah usual disclaimer about how I saw her on Super Friends and lunchboxes as a kid) is her wearing a baseball cap and serving tacos at a fast food joint. I’m referring to the Brian Bolland cover pictured above to Wonder Woman #73, an issue set in the midst of William Messner-Loebs’ mid-90’s run with the character.

I didn’t read Wonder Woman growing up so my exposure came solely from DC house ads and seeing the covers, which more often than not featured her doing stuff I’d more expect out of Batman like fighting the mob or posing for sight gags like the aforementioned waitressing gig or having a delicious pasta dinner with Flash.

As a reader (rather than a cover viewer), I made Wonder Woman’s acquaintance when she became leader of the Justice League following the death of Superman. Now this was a ways before I understood what “pre-Crisis” and “post-Crisis” meant, so the concept that Wonder Woman wasn’t part of the Justice League already and further that her joining was a big deal first time thing baffled me a bit, but I rolled with it. More puzzling to me, I suppose, was how she come off almost as a bit of a wallflower with super strength. Fun Bolland covers aside, my abstract concept of Wonder Woman was still that she was a bad ass—she was an Amazon warrior after all—yet to my mind she was written in Justice League America as a figure whose name and reputation intimidated those around her, but she would then win them over with how down to Earth she was, which was a perfectly valid characterization, but seemed still off to me. I wanted to see her punching Guy Gardner in the face like Batman did, showing him there were women who could stand up to him physically as well as verbally, but instead she tended to reason with him.

Not long after this, Wonder Woman had her Death of Superman/Knightfall/Emerald Twilight prerequisite mid-90’s DC shakeup storyline wherein she was replaced in her role by a redhead named Artemis and took to just calling herself Diana and sporting a leather jacket and biker shorts as her look. I read the stories years later, and as is generally the case with Messner-Loebs (along with a young Mike Deodato) it was solid stuff, but again, at the time it was strange to me how there seemed to be this trending pattern toward making Wonder Woman/Diana “just one of the gang,” and humanizing her whether through comedy, fast food jobs, complacency on a team or losing her status; even at that age, I held the opinion—even if I couldn’t articulate it yet—that Marvel characters fit the “feet of clay” mold better while DC heroes were cool when they were aspirational, so humanizing Wonder Woman didn’t really work for me personally.

Apparently, somebody at DC in the late 90’s thought teenage me was right on, as the next era of Wonder Woman—which coincided with my getting out of comics temporarily, so I didn’t witness it first hand—brought her back in the direction of being a formidable and imposing figure who commanded respect through words as well as actions, both in her solo title under the reins of John Byrne and particularly as Grant Morrison penned her in JLA. Morrison’s Diana was certainly more along the lines of what I always expected, with her being an advocate for peace, but also somebody who understood it may take a smidgen of aggression to get there, at least in the short term. I dug how Wonder Woman fit into the team dynamic, with Superman and Martian Manhunter as her buddies, holding even Batman’s respect, flirting with Aquaman and then reducing Flash and Green Lantern to nervous man-children with her beauty/brassiness combo (Mark Waid was pretty great at writing that last one as well).

I finally jumped into the Wonder Woman well as far as her solo title when my good friend (not then, but now) Phil Jimenez was serving as both writer and artist. I’m a little nervous about using hyperbole here, particularly since I’m talking about a pal, but honestly, Phil’s Diana was the one I’d been waiting for.

Initially I picked Phil’s Wonder Woman up for the art—I’d been a fan since he did Robin fill-ins for Tom Grummett when I was a kid—but I stayed for an endearing take on a character I’d always been flummoxed by in regard to where her following came from. Ok, first off, the art was gorgeous, but I’ve talked about that before. What worked for me was that Phil was able to make Diana the fierce warrior I’d read about in JLA but also give her the softer side I’d always understood she was meant to have without having her roll over when challenged by her friends and teammates or depowering her. The key as I saw it and see was that where past creators had tried to make Wonder Woman more relatable in some way by “humanizing” her and attempted to bring her closer to somebody we felt like we knew, Phil made her empathetic by playing up that while the world may see her as a goddess, this can often make her feel more apart than embraced.

(This is about when I’ll get an e-mail from Phil explaining who this isn’t what he was going for but he can totally see where I’m coming from because he’s the nicest, most charitable person in comics)

She appreciated and loved the people who stood in awe of her, but felt a sad distance from the friends who had grown old while she remained young, the supposed peers who got weak-kneed around her, and the family she had reluctantly put at a distance so she could do her work. Phil’s Wonder Woman was powerful, regal and graceful, but she also had a loneliness in her eyes that made me feel like I knew her more than wearing a baseball hat ever would. This was a woman who could stare Lex Luthor in the eyes and not be intimidated, but didn’t know how to ask a normal man out on a date and was devastated when he said no (both scenes and several other terribly insightful ones occur in Wonder Woman #170, an issue narrated by Lois Lane who follows Diana around for a day and jots down observations, many of which I’ve cribbed for this article; I consider this essential reading for anybody who wants to tackle the character).

I would later read George Perez’s late 80’s reimagining of Wonder Woman—which came directly before the Messner-Loebs run—and see where Phil got a lot of his inspiration from. Perez brings Diana to Man’s World for the first time and grounds his story in her journey of discovery and her relationships with ordinary people. She is very much the foreign exchange student who is fascinated by everything around her and makes mistakes because she doesn’t understand, but she’s also still definitely Wonder Woman, able to stand up inspirationally to any challenge through strength and wits; just because she may be naïve doesn’t mean she’s not plenty clever. It was certainly a far cry from the Wonder Woman I remembered playing second fiddle to Captain Atom in my Justice League comics.

When Allan Heinberg launched a new Wonder Woman series back in 2006, I did a retrospective piece on the character speaking with him, Phil, Greg Rucka and others who had worked on her. It was an article about what was upcoming and what made Diana tick, but inevitably a lot of the familiar questions about her relative lack of commercial success against Superman and Batman came up. I explored the gender issue—character and fanbase—as well as the lack of a “Dark Knight Returns” (i.e. classic pivotal story), but also examined the other side of the coin: when Wonder Woman was a success. Two points came up specifically: Wonder Woman was a hugely popular character in the Golden Age, specifically during World War II, and that the Lynda Carter TV series remains a fondly remembered and cherished piece of Americana. While the character has been around over 70 years and had some great stories (and not so great stories) along the way, my conclusion was that her prominent place in the public consciousness came from images ingrained by those earliest tales and her multimedia portrayals in animation and live action TV shows.

I’m no expert on Wonder Woman, I’m just a guy who can kill an evening rambling 1500 words about her while waiting for the new episode of Happy Endings. But the take away I got from that article and really all my experiences reading the character is this: On Wonder Woman either go big or go home (coincidentally enough, a patented Phil Jimenez expression). She succeeded in the 40’s because perhaps even more so than Captain America she was over-the-top American propaganda, but also plain fun. She succeeded on TV because Lynda Carter embraced the role quirks and all. I love the work Perez, Jimenez, Morrison and others did because they enjoyed the fact that they were writing an Amazon princess who had a magic lasso and fought Greek gods; they didn’t feel like they needed to ground her in mundane trappings so readers wouldn’t be intimidated.

I’ve said it before, but it applies double to Wonder Woman: You don’t want to relate to every comic book character, sometimes you just want to read about them having crazy adventures. I’d much rather watch Wonder Woman hanging out with centaurs and fighting Joker with snake hair than serving fast food in a leather jacket.