Gene Kendall here, with the launch of another review series of questionable merit and mainstream interest.
Everyone knows the X-Men. Billions of dollars at the box office. Successful animated series. The highest-selling individual comic book in history. Inspired maybe the best joke in Idiocracy.
And if you know the X-Men, there’s some chance you’ve heard of Chris Claremont. Sadly, in today’s environment, that’s no guarantee you ever actually read any of his X-Men issues. Or, if you did, you understand the cultural impact of his initial, nearly seventeen-year long stint on the X-Men comic book. But Claremont’s Dostoevsky meets Asimov meets Days of Our Lives approach to the title truly did revolutionize the superhero genre, and for even a decade after departing X-Men, his style remained the template for mainstream comics storytelling.
As writer artist Howard Chaykin told Wizard magazine in 1995: “He invented the contemporary language of comics, the current relationship of hero to hero. His characterization of the X-Men is the single most influential language in comics today. Comics are what they are today because of what Chris did with the X-Men.”
[Chaykin didn’t necessarily mean this as a compliment.]
Claremont’s rep wasn’t enough to leave him as the dominant voice on the monthly X-Men assignment, however. Penciler Jim Lee and editor Bob Harras both leaned toward a “back to basics” approach, leaving the more forward-thinking Claremont increasingly voiceless on the title. He departed the X-Men franchise, and Marvel Comics, at the end of 1991.
Claremont spent the next few years working on science fiction and fantasy prose novels, penning a Star Trek graphic novel for DC Comics, and writing a twelve-issue Aliens versus Predator miniseries for Dark Horse Comics. But while Claremont was straying away from superheroes, the already superhero-engorged market experienced a cavalcade of new heroes. A variety of factors -- superstar artists, Tim Burton’s Batman films, the migration of trading card speculators into a new market -- had the comics industry exploding in the early 1990s. And most of these new titles took the easy way out -- drawing direct influence from the already-popular X-Men franchise.
In 1994, Claremont did “special guest appearances” as the writer of a few issues of WildC.A.T.s and CyberForce, two Image titles from former collaborators that cribbed heavily from their X-pasts. This was treated as a minor publishing event, the gimmick being that Image creators might actually be hiring a decent writer instead of their college buddy or cousin.
Somewhere between DC Comics inking a deal with Claremont for a new superhero series and the actual release of Sovereign Seven was the inevitable industry bust. Hurting after a rough year, retailers were eager to have a new Chris Claremont superhero team to pitch to customers.
In a rare move, Claremont retained the rights to the S7 characters, meaning DC cannot use them today without his permission. Hypothetically, they could also appear in any comic Claremont writes for Marvel, or in novels or films independent of DC. Given the era’s climate, following years of creators railing against unjust treatment from the major companies, this was a fantastic publicity boost for the series. And more than one commentator, regardless of how they felt about Claremont’s creative decisions in the later X-Men years, did opine on the unfairness of Claremont creating so much intellectual property for Marvel and owning none of that material.
Sovereign Seven was a first for the industry, a creator-owned team existing within one of the dominant superhero universes. I’ll also add that while artist Dwayne Turner is listed as the co-creator, it appears an arrangement was made for Claremont to solely own the copyright.
[Also, earlier in the 1990s, Milestone Media had a partnership with DC that enabled Milestone to own their original characters, while granting DC a publishing and distribution deal. Still, Milestone was an independent universe, only interacting with DC heroes during a “dimensional breach” crossover event. Claremont remains the only sole owner of copyrighted characters to exist within the DC canon.]
So, what happens when a writer with a distinctive voice and idiosyncratic preoccupations is tasked with following unprecedented success? If you were to believe a disillusioned, mid-’90s online comics critic, the answer is, well, a disaster.
This was the prevailing narrative when I first plugged into online forums in 1998, coincidentally the same month DC Comics published the final Sovereign Seven issue. But why listen to those killjoys? I’d like to revisit the series today, oh-my-lord thirty years later, and I just might be crazy enough to do so in seven installments.
And what is Sovereign Seven? It’s a 36-issue series that ran from 1995 to 1998, starring seven exiled, superpowered royals from different Earths, each forced to flee their homes due to a cryptically defined cosmic event. After banding together under the guidance of their leader Cascade, they find refuge on, well, not “our” Earth, but the Earth of the DC Universe. The heroes take up residence in The Crossroads, the name of both a small town and a mysterious café-slash-inn that serves as a nexus between worlds.
There seems to be some confusion over whether the characters originate from alternate Earths, or outside dimensions that just happened to resemble Earth. As of 1995, the DC Multiverse did not officially exist due to the events of Crisis on Infinite Earths, which collapsed all parallel Earths into one. During the earlier Milestone DC crossover, the story suggested that the two universes coexisted in separate “phases” of reality, rather than being from separate Earths in a multiverse. This somehow appeased DC’s continuity gods. As for Sovereign Seven, regardless of what the publicity material or official bios might’ve said, the actual comics state definitively that our heroes come from parallel Earths. This doesn’t fly with DC’s rules of the time, and maybe someone should’ve flagged this during the book’s development, but the concept did pass through.
Claremont described the book in interviews as “A story about warriors and wanderers, exiles searching for a place to belong, and the battles they must fight along the way. ” Each Sovereign has a deep, mysterious backstory befitting a Claremont creation. And, appropriate for their creator, his plans on gradually revealing the details of their pasts are derailed by digressions, side-quests, and assorted snipe hunts. Three years of digressions, side-quests, and assorted snipe hunts.
And who are the Sovereign Seven?
Cascade is the team leader, possessing the power to teleport, referred to as “cascading”. Essentially, Cascade turns into some kind of gelatinous gloop and pours herself where she needs to go. She brings others along with her, everyone glooped together. In the early issues, artist Dwayne Turner does provide a visually cool representation of this. Unfortunately, every subsequent artist to work on this series struggles to do anything interesting with it. Her ability demands familiarity with the target location or a designated “waypoint, ” provided by teammate Network. And if you think Cascade and Network share a “close as sisters” relationship with Sappharic undertones...okay, how did you guess?
Cascade escaped from her mother, Maitresse, played up in the early issues as the series’ main antagonist. Maitresse is an all-powerful ruler who governed Cascade’s homeworld with ruthless dominion. According to Cascade, at least. Later in the series, Sovereign Seven meets Cascade’s mother and decides she’s not so bad, actually.
Network is the first of the Sovereigns to cross paths with Cascade and plays a pivotal role in assembling the team. The origins of her homeworld, well, Claremont didn’t seem to get around to revealing that one. A telepath, Network lacks many inhibitions about invading someone else’s mind. Later issues establish that without a link to another human, she becomes aphasic and illiterate. This conforms to some philosophies Claremont developed about telepathy during this era, ideas he later tried to introduce during his second stint on X-Men. Ideas that didn’t go over so great.
When promoting Sovereign Seven, Claremont would sometimes refer to the team as “young heroes.” Later in the book’s run, we’re supposed to believe they’re actually teenagers! The only member who actually looks like a teen is Network, and Turner does a great job of giving her a naïve, youthful appearance. (This plays nicely with a revelation that occurs in the book’s second year.) Her exaggerated anime eyes are a nice distinctive design choice, and another element that future artists choose to ignore.
In seemingly random issues, Network also wields an unusual-looking sword that carries some unknown significance for her. Turner isn’t very clear in rendering it, but apparently it’s something like a light saber, although sometimes she seems to be using it like nunchucks. Little character bits like this appear throughout the series, rarely receiving any satisfying resolutions.
Rampart is an Islamic prince from a world where the Middle East has global dominance instead of the West. Rampart generates force fields, but as Claremont makes clear, is not telekinetic. He’s likeable, honorable, and every girl in Crossroads has a crush on him. Apparently, Rampart was a character Claremont was pitching as one of the new X-Men, shortly before leaving in 1991. This might lead you to believe Claremont had a soft spot for Rampart, but he tends to spend most issues in the background.
Finale hails from a warrior culture, located in an aquatic world reminiscent of pre-colonial Hawaii. Visually, she might be the most striking of the cast, a female Snake-Eyes years before there was a female Snake-Eyes. This was a late-in-development redesign, as some early promotional art featured Finale in a different outfit, with her face exposed. Finale also carries a sword, moves like a ninja, and though she comes from an ocean world, is terrified now of ever getting wet. She also refuses to remove her skintight bodysuit. All of these characters are mystery characters in some way, but Finale might be the most mysterious. In the actual comics, her face is never even revealed.
Cruiser is a telekinetic whose powers are directly fueled by his body mass. This constant demand for energy leaves him perpetually hungry. His physical form fluctuates dramatically, oscillating between an emaciated state, to a more rotund form. Typically, he’s a chubby boy. One issue teases the idea that Cruiser is quite handsome when he isn’t bloated from the food he’s forced to consume, but nothing comes of this. One intriguing aspect of the series is the way the team members must work together and augment the other’s powers. While Jean Grey might be able to read minds, generate force fields, and move objects telekinetically, those abilities are split between three Sovereign Seven heroes.
Reflex is a speedster originating from an Earth likely inspired by the real-life Christianization of Scandinavia. He holds both Nordic and Christian beliefs, and though he was born a prince, Reflex longs to become a minister. Unlike most super-fast characters with lean, Olympian builds, Reflex is comically large, making it difficult for him to do simple tasks like, say, walk through a door. Superheroes had become ridiculously over-muscled by 1995, and Reflex seems to be Claremont’s sly commentary on the trend. It is a clever subversion of the accepted tropes, making your super-fast character also the super-large one.
Finally, there’s Indigo. Another character who never receives a true origin during the book’s run, Indigo appears to lack a fixed identity, alternating between male and female forms depending on the environment or situation. The stories and promotional material refer to Indigo as a “he,” for what that’s worth. No neo-pronouns in 1995. Indigo’s literal gender-fluidity seems to match ideas Claremont’s teased in the past for Mystique, another one of his shape-shifting creations.
Indigo’s body language and skin tone clearly evoke Nightcrawler, and much like the X-Man, Indigo can blend seamlessly into his surroundings for some sneaky fun. Unlike Nightcrawler, Indigo’s invisibility isn’t limited to the dark. Indigo also possesses a vaguely defined charm power, enabling him to talk others into anything. And he exhibits yet another power, an uncanny knack for envisioning complex scenarios and wild extrapolations that turn out to be true.
Having read through this series in the past few weeks, I’m not sure if any Sovereign is ever given an origin for their powers. There are a few origins regarding their homeworlds, but I don’t recall any rationales for why these characters have superpowers. No one in the letter column seems to ask about this, either. Was Claremont, and the audience as well, just that accustomed to the non-origins of Marvel’s mutant powers?
Regarding Claremont’s past with Marvel, it isn’t difficult to find parallels with these heroes and the mutant cast Claremont spent so many years chronicling. It’s worth noting, however, that Claremont does not have a Wolverine analogue on this team. Wolverine just might be the most commercially successful fictional creation of the late twentieth century, and though Claremont wasn’t responsible for the initial concept, he is the writer chiefly responsible for crafting the character the world knows as Wolverine. The landscape of 1995 was littered with Wolverine clones, and if anyone could write a fantastic Wolverine clone, it would be Chris Claremont. So, he deserves some credit for not going the obvious and shameless route here.
This completes our opening chapter. I’m also posting a video version of these essays on my YouTube channel along with some other genre essays and samples of my fiction. I’m also attempting to be active on Instagram and Substack, so a follow there would be appreciated.
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