What If? #32, "What if the Avengers Had Become Pawns of Korvac?" by Greunwald/LaRocque, 1982

What a great comic. So epic in scale.

2. X-Men #153 (Marvel 1981)



This entry probably shouldn't surprise anyone. I've made my case for this story time and time again and enjoyed your kind laughter in reply.

In 1991, I was first discovering the X-Men. On a friend's recommendation, I checked out X-Men #275. I couldn't understand a lot of what was happening, as the issue wrapped up years worth of Claremont continuity in one climactic story, but I was impressed enough by the sense that things had been building for a long while now, characters evolving, that I wanted to stick along for the ride and be part of wherever these characters were going next. So, when I first noticed a second X-Men title on the shelves the next month, I picked up the two issues I found from that series as well, not really understanding at the time that X-Men Classic was an all-reprint title.

But that was for the best, really, as those two issues gave me all the background I needed to really understand what the X-Men were and where they had been. Those two issues were #42 (reprinting one of the final chapters of The Dark Phoenix Saga) and #57 (reprinting "Kitty's Fairytale"). While I was intrigued by the dire scope of The Dark Phoenix Saga, it was "Kitty's Fairytale" that really hit home for me and turned me into a hardcore X-Men fan. As I was reminded again with Richard Bishop's selection of X-Men #303 for Day 10, while the X-Men provided many compelling high-stakes storylines and events, it was always the epilogues they did best -- those moments when things had finally quieted down, and it was time to rebuild, and for characters to emotionally process all that had occurred and be changed by those events. X-Men #153 does just that, providing a necessary emotional reconciliation of the terrible loss the team had experienced during The Dark Phoenix Saga. We're given ridiculous, light-hearted fare as Kitty tells an absurdly childish fairytale version of The Dark Phoenix Saga to young Ilyana, but it humanizes each character and brings out their soft sides when they'd spent the past year having to conceal them in the face of a cosmic force that threatened to destroy everything and, in the process, broke all of their hearts.

This story so effortlessly blended helping the team to laugh for the first time since Jean's death with subtly revealing the depth of emotional impact The Dark Phoenix Saga had taken on them all. It made them human and, for the first time since their Christmas shopping spree way back in X-Men #98, had made them a family again too. I could feel it then and, while the story does seem far sillier to me all these years later in hindsight, I can still feel it now when I re-read it, as well.


But this issue has an even greater meaning for me beyond all this.


Ever since reading X-Men Classic #57 at the age of 11, I've loved Kitty Pryde. I didn't have a crush on her, I didn't want to date her, and I couldn't imagine the two of us ever hanging out as friends, but there was something about her -- her warmth, brilliance, spunkiness, and imagination -- that I adored. I loved her in a way I didn't understand.

Until I got to know my firstborn.

As my young daughter began to grow and make sense of the world, I gradually came to realize that this was what I had always wanted out of Kitty Pryde. She was, in essence, my dream daughter. And so, fully understanding that my daughter would grow into her own person and could not be shackled by expectations, I nevertheless kept the Kitty Pryde ideal in mind and, as I played with her, attempted to talk with her, and taught her, I tried to ignite a mind that could be every bit as beautiful and brilliant as Kitty's. And, as Ellie grew, I began to see a young woman even smarter, kinder, more loving, and more imaginative than that two dimensional character could ever be. My daughter (well, both. I have two now) are more than a guy like me could ever have hoped for.

And so, when Ellie began to show a passing interest in comics (as a six year old, she still isn't totally enamored by them, but she gets excited from time to time), I told her about Kitty Pryde, and we stretched out on the floor to read X-Men #153 together. Of course, she instantly took a liking to Kitty and to the story, also finding the comedy laugh-out-loud hysterical while only somewhat grasping the sense of loss that framed the whole story. Delighted that she had enjoyed it, and thoroughly moved by the moment we'd shared, I gave her the book.

That copy is now my second favorite comic of all time.

It symbolizes so much that matters to me about who Ellie is and the bond we share, as well as the memory of that moment in time, stretched out on the floor of her toy room, reading and laughing together. Additionally, when we went to Motor City Comicon last year, Ellie met Chris Claremont (twice, actually. There's a whole story there), and he was very surprised to learn she actually knew something about the X-Men and loved Kitty Pryde. They had a conversation that lasted at least three minutes, in which Claremont looked even more delighted than Ellie as they held up an absurdly long line of fan boys with large stacks of comics to be signed.

Chris signed Ellie's copy of X-men #153:




but only after seeing that I'd signed it first.




One day, I hope Ellie will be a passionate comic collector with this book at the center of her collection but, for now, it matters to me.