Magneto Testament

Magneto Testament (Greg Pak) is the first Marvel hardcover I've seen to include a Teacher's Guide in the back. That fact alone says much about the story. It's not just the origin of the X-Men's greatest foe, but a serious holocaust drama, closely modeled on real history and real human lives. And the real beauty, and tragedy, of Testament is that it never needs to be a superhero story at all.

If a person were to pick up this story without ever having read an X-Men story (or having seen the films), they would never guess the protagonist was a mutant. Max Eisenhardt's journey takes him from schooldays in 1930s Nazi Germany, to the Warsaw Ghetto in Poland, and eventually to the infamous concentration camp of Auschwitz. Every horror that befalls Max and his family, every neighbor's sacrifice that sustains them, and every cruelty that dooms them all ring true because of the painstaking work of Testament's creative team.

The tale is deeply grounded in research; Pak's extensive endnotes in the collected edition excavate the story page by page, revealing the actual historical people and events from which even seemingly minor details were drawn. (We all hated compiling bibliographies for our papers in school; who'da thunk they could make a comic book more impressive?) The script is excellent. Pak sketches in the broad strokes of history for context, then pulls his focus in tight the on small and human moments, brought to gut-wrenching life by artist Carmine Di Giandomenico. The whole epic is near-perfectly paced, and deftly balanced between grinding heartbreak and slivers of hope. And for those of us who do know the man Max Eisenhardt will one day become, there's a second story hiding in plain sight.

Pak and Di Giandomenico evoke Max's future with a perfectly simple recurring visual trick: a glint of light reflecting off metal. It's there when Max hurls a heavy javelin in school games, and when he's scrounging for coins in the gutter. It's there on the knife in Max's hand as he watches two Nazis beating a man in an alleyway, as his uncle stops him from getting involved, getting himself killed. Those of us who know his power and his future can't help wonder - perhaps he could have killed those soldiers, perhaps he could've saved that man? And it makes the tale of Max's impotence in that terrible time and place only more potent.

As the background for a loathed and beloved comic book villain, it makes Magneto's place in the X-Men universe all the greater. The horrors he experiences in these pages haunt every Magneto story to come (even the hokey ones), for this is the world he always fears might return, if he can do nothing to stop it. And that fear, in turn, drives him to inflict his own terrors on others. Yet in his long history in the X-Men universe, Magneto has also enjoyed the occasional stint as a hero. Horrid 1980s purple costumes aside, I hope he may yet again and for good. After spending these five issues with young Max, I find myself hoping that Magneto's story might somehow yet wind up in the light. I want his story to find, if not a happy ending, then at least a measure of peace.

Still, it's just as important that Testament can be read as if Max were just an ordinary man, with no special abilities or destiny. The power of any story, no matter how fanciful, comes from our ability to believe. We will believe a man can fly because deep down, we all know what flying feels like, or what it should feel like. We will let a fictional character break our hearts because we've been broken, and we've watched others be broken. We know fictions, even science-fictions, are made for us because someone in the world has felt this way. But there is a special double-edge to a story like Magneto Testament, enriching the fictional life of a comic book villain, even as it pays homage to the struggles of millions of survivors and victims of a real-world genocide.

- JC