So...the "unkillable" mutant who survived the Hiroshima nuclear attack, and also endured being shot into the friggin' Sun, has died. Yes, Marvel's beloved, mutant berserker Wolverine has passed on to that great Danger Room in the sky.
Yesterday, Marvel released the last in the four issue limited series titled "The Death of Wolverine" and, you guessed it, James Howlett, aka Logan, aka Wolverine, shuffles off of this mortal coil. I was enjoying this series, much like I enjoyed the "Origin" series in 2001, but the death was just...bad, so I'm not going to discuss the why's and the wherefore's of it here. Pick up the book yourself and form your own opinions.
I find myself wishing that Marvel didn't kill Wolverine, who has been my favorite Marvel Comics character for some time, but instead had him leave the name of "Wolverine," and all of the associated superhero antics, behind. From an overall narrative standpoint, it would have been better handled if he was just retiring and goes off into the Canadian wilderness to live the rest of his days in peaceful solitude.
That way, Marvel could have him come out of retirement when they inevitably bring him back, but now the fans will have to endure whatever contrived monkey business they'll come up with when they miraculously bring him back from the dead. But no, as I'm sure they learned from DC's "Death of Superman" in 1992, death is big business. Death sells books.
That's the thing I think sticks in my craw the most...is the disingenuous nature of it all. Marvel knows Wolverine isn't going to stay dead. The fans know Wolverine isn't going to stay dead. Just like DC knew Superman wasn't going to stay dead. Why must we all do this silly dance? It makes no sense to me. At all.
The first death in comics that I recall reading, and that truly affected me, was the "Death of Phoenix" in 1980, although I didn't read it myself until 1984. I actually teared up at the end when Jean Grey regains her sanity for a few, fleeting moments, long enough to say goodbye to her love, Cyclops, before getting atomized by a Shi'ar cannon on the Moon.
I was out of the whole comics scene when Marvel brought Jean back in 1986's "X-Factor # 1," but I was intrigued enough by the idea she was back to pick up a copy of the book. I read it, and was so annoyed with what an obviously slap-dash and ridiculously manufactured cash grab the whole thing was that I put the book down and didn't pick up another comic for about 10 years.
Anyway, the Wolverine is dead. Long live the Wolverine.
(MAJOR SPOILER ALERT: The final panel of "The Death of Wolverine #4" is below. View it at your own peril, true believer...)
