Word has it he’s destined to expire in a multi-part epic culminating in September. Don’t be silly.
Marvel’s spinning smoke into gold with the recent announcement that writer Charles Soule and artist Steve McNiven are going to kill Logan, once and for all, in Death of Wolverine, a four-part mini-series in which he’s robbed of his healing factor, harassed by his enemies, and croaks in the finale in September 24th.
No, he won’t. We all know that: no, he won’t. Like Clark and Bruce and Steve, he’ll take a break and be back – not “bigger and badder than ever,” just…back. We all know he’s worth too much alive, and just as he is, in terms of licensing, movies, and single-copy sales to rest easy in his X-Tomb. (For further evidence, see “Robins, Blue-Haired, Teenage, Male”)
So here’s a question: why bother? The “Death of…” story line is like a Heinlein joke: funny once, but only once. It truly was a shock when Doomsday beat the shit out of Superman and he really, no kidding, died. There was even talk that some other dude, other than Clark Kent, would take his place, and for one giddy moment fandom almost believed it. Same, to a lesser extent, when Jason was crowbarred to death by The Joker. Or Bruce was back-broke, then murdered. Or Steve Rogers was shot. But of course they call came back, not even significantly changed for the experience (except for Jason Todd, really, who just became an even bigger douche). Doing it to Logan now – in the same time frame that Archie Andrews of Riverdale is (temporarily) biting it – just seems…old.
It really betrays a lack of imagination and an excess of greed. What, like Marvel isn’t making enough money off the short dude with the untrimmed fingernails? They think this will drag in a significantly greater pile of cash? Come on. They know, as well as we, that ultimately, it really can’t work. No matter how beautifully it might be drawn – and it will be, McNiven’s a pro (just look at that cover), it cannot have any real emotional impact because we know it’s a lie. We’ll just get past it, unmoved, and begin the endless debate about how long he’ll be gone and how he’ll be brought back, rather like your weird Uncle Dale who got stranded in Belgium when he lost his Europass, but will make it back in time for Thanksgiving one way or another. He’s not dead, he’s just…delayed. That Dale!
At one level, it’s just a confession that Marvel can’t think of anything better to do with Wolverine. They have run out of stories to tell about a virtually immortal and unkillable rogue-hero with an uncontrollable penchant for violence and a history of at least 300 years. The only thing they can think of is to “kill” him, until somebody thinks up something better. It’s like dunking Sherlock in the Falls so A.C. can have a damn break, but that’s about it.
And our response should be, “really?” You can’t think of anything better to do that pretend-kill Mr. Pointy? Then maybe it really is time for a break. Not for Wolverine, but for the folks who are writing him and guiding his fate. Maybe it’s time to turn it over to somebody, somewhere, who has some really cool ideas they can’t get past the pitch. Because temporary death? Come on. Been there, done that. Over and over.
Nice cover, though.
