3 out of 5

I’m not actually as down on Chuck Austen as most people are.  I don’t have any particular attachment to the X-Men, nor do I get foolhardy with continuity, so I didn’t really care that he – in many people’s minds – stomped and spat on the series.  That being said, the dude does make some spectacularly odd / stupid choices in his writing, and while in part it seems to be influenced by his personal politics – which would be fine except that he’s not too great (or never got the issue space..?) at layering his ideas in there, so you’re just sort of slapped with it – there also seems to be a genuine lack of respect for his reader sometimes.  Like he knows that something doesn’t make sense (there is intelligence sprinkled through his writing, so I don’t think he’s as ignorant as his setups sometimes make it seem), but either in response to the backlash he received OR in some weirdly writer contrived way where he thinks that sacrificing logic for brevity, or something, is valid, he’ll go ahead and write flagrant contradictions into the story.

And thus The Eternal: plagued by all of these Austen problems, but a solid series that really spun a Marvel property in, to me, a unique way – artistically and story-wise.  I used to love this series for the way it explored some issues, but time has dimmed that opinion a bit as I can see Chuck losing his way in the story, and the overall impact of that exploration is lessened by that change in direction (perhaps due to cancellation, part of the wonder of how he would plot something if given the run to do so) along with those general flubs.

I’m not too familiar with the original Kirby concept, but from the Wiki page, what Austen kept was the concept of the forever-and-above-all Celestials having created a mostly immortal race called The Eternals on Earth.  In the Kirby version of things, The Celestials seemingly do this out of experimentation, to see what will happen, and The Eternals are evolved from Earth proto-humans.  They, in turn, protect the regular humans on the planet, except when some Eternals break off, deeming themselves in charge of the lesser-thans, deemed “Deviants.”   In Austen’s re-telling, The Eternals have been evolved from some other planet, and are shuttled from planet to planet as slaves of the Celestials, doing the evolving dirty work, but only far enough so that they can be taught to do the drudge work of mining resources which, in some vague way, benefit both The Eternals and Celestials.  Furthermore, The Celestials have kept their Eternals in line by slaughtering all of their females.  Thus, no chance of breeding a future generation to rebel, and also no chance of expanding the line – work with what ya’ got, so if you don’t work for us, it’s the end of the line.  They arrive on Earth to do their regular dance, and discover that, once evolved, these proto-humans look quite similar to Eternals… might the men and women be compatible?

So we have the core elements of Kirby with a lot more potential for exploring social and gender dynamics, with two layers of revolution (human to Eternal, Eternal to Celestial) and the reintroduction of females into a society that’s apparently just been using random “Deviants” on other planets to get their kicks when needed, but it’s all functional.  Kev Walker’s art adds an excellent layer of extra to the whole thing.  The gore (which comes into play initially during the evolution process) us lapped on with gibs and gushes of meat and gristle, The Eternals look appropriately weathered and austere, and their constructions seem massive and confusing, as they should be.  As the series goes on, the style gets looser, more expressive, and maps to the way The Eternals start to feel and express the highs and lows of emotion with this return to coupling.

Now this series – and a lot of Austen’s work – has been accused of misogyny.  Rather, he seems to just like sex, and believes in embracing openness to it in our lives.  We expect our male characters to be lusty, but when females are written that way (especially by a male), we call foul.  Again, part of Chuck’s problem is that he’s not very good at saying things except in a pretty obvious way, so I’m not saying he presents his beliefs effectively.  Just that his treatment of women in this book seems to match his treatment of men – the way that sex perverts us because of how it’s suppressed – and that it can be equally enjoyable for both parties, but also a cause of jealousy, and ownership, and ignorance – which are, as The Eternal tries to show, very “human” traits.

God, how long is this review?

Anyhow, at whatever point the series was canceled, I can’t say, but Chuck, as usual, gets distracted.  This interesting exploration of sexuality is cheese-puffed up by a lot of nudity – but this was one of the first Marvel MAX titles, so we can sort of credit the expectation of it there – and de-railed by inevitable in-fighting amongst the eternals of whether or not they should be taking mates in the first place.  With a more patient approach, this could’ve been spun into something, but it’s given a quick wash of taking sides (with our lead sympathetic Eternal – Ikaeden – or our lead over-evil Eternal – Kurassus) and then let’s go ahead and toss in the usual Chuck logic-skipping, because here comes a Deviant who also looks human but isn’t from this planet, and the whole evolving process becomes a little questionable as to how it works, and then when the big war is waged there’s some random points stuck in there about the inherent violence of man and then a fart of dialogue about how religion equals ignorance.  Fighting takes over a lot of issue 5 and 6’s page count, lots of blood and sound effects, and though I can’t say the previous issue’s plotting was subtle, there was a sense of build there that’s just dismissed by the “you’ll never take me alive” nonsense of these concluding issues.  At least Chuck was able to finish the story.  The last few pages show the scope of what he was conceptualizing, and I use it as further evidence of how he had some good ideas…  But I suppose we’ll (I’ll) never get to discover if he had the chops to actually develop those ideas.

Mind you, I still like this series.  All of the elements are there.  And despite things devolving (heh) as the story surmounts its apex, the general feel is pretty consistent dialogue and pacing wise, Austen’s words always sort of striking a balance between over-simplicity and human blabber.  If any of the ideas had been explored more centrally, that would bump it up a star.  While there’s enough here to still damn Austen in any hater’s eyes (the tons of sex, the stupid incorrect use of repeated letters in dialogue – if I scream “Ikaeden” at length, I’m not going get stuck on the second ‘e’…), if anyone is open to re-evaluating his work, I’d hand them this along with Eden’s Trail.  Neither are perfect, but I find more value between the lines than I do almost any Bendis book.