When we last left Doctor Strange back in January, he and his lover/apprentice Clea were trapped in the Dark Dimension, facing down the demonic minions of the Dread Dormammu — a group led by Dormammu’s chief disciple, Orini, whom both Doc and we readers had just learned was Clea’s own father.
That startling revelation had come on the closing page of Doctor Strange #7; for that reason, despite the fact that the title up there says this post is about issue #9, we’re going to be starting things off instead with a look at #8, whose cover by Gil Kane and Tom Palmer is shown at right. If you’re a regular reader, you already know this drill by heart… so, let’s get started:
“Rights of Passage” was the third installment of a four-part story arc that had begun in Doctor Strange #6, back in November, 1974. Like the chapters that preceded it, this one had been written by Steve Englehart and pencilled by Gene Colan; also like them, it had a different inker from the others. While Colan’s pencilled artwork for DS #6 had been embellished by Klaus Janson, and John Romita had supplied the finishes for #7, issue #8 found Tom Palmer joining the team; or, one might say, rejoining the team, seeing as how Colan and Palmer had previously collaborated on the earlier Doctor Strange title of the late 1960s. More recently, of course, the two artists had been working together regularly on Tomb of Dracula (a partnership they’d continue to maintain up until the cancellation of that title in 1979).
Once the the sorcerous couple is safely concealed in Clea’s old childhood hiding place, Clea gives Stephen the bad news from home; Dormammu, who’d been thought destroyed at the end of the Avengers/Defenders War, is incubating himself at the Earth’s molten core, where he holds the Earth-spirit sometimes called Mother Nature captive. Understanding now that the challenge of Dormammu’s sister, Umar, that lured him to the Dark Dimension in the first place was simply a ruse to get him out of the way, Dr. Strange suggests that they now meditate to seek a solution to their current dilemma…
The language Mother Nature uses to describe her current travails in this scene — along with Clea’s comment (see below) about how the goddess “has been violated by his [Dormammu’s] hellish penetration” — frames Dormammu’s assault on and exploitation of the Earth-spirit as an act of rape, followed by forced childbirth. It’s subtly done enough to have likely escaped the notice of the Comics Code Authority, but for those readers who pick up on it (which may or may not have included my seventeen-year-old self in 1975), the metaphor (if that’s actually the right word) adds another level of horror to the situation.
Steve Englehart’s script makes a nod here to Dormammu and Umar’s recent Special Guest Villain joint appearance in Giant-Size Avengers #4 (also written by Englehart, naturally).
The man called “Horse” — who gets a name (or at least a nickname) for the first time in the panel directly above — first showed up as a robed and hooded cult leader in the Defenders story in Marvel Feature #2 (Mar., 1972). He’d appeared to be a white guy in that story, but when reintroduced as an Umar-serving heroin addict in Doctor Strange #6, he’d become a Black man. Either someone failed to clue in Tom Palmer (who colored as well as inked the present story), or it was decided to go back to the original depiction of the character, following issue #7’s revelation that MF #2’s cult leader and DS #6’s junkie were in fact the same person. Your guess is as good as mine on this one.
Notice how just for this one, relatively mundane scene, Gene Colan has set aside his geometrically varied page layouts in favor of a conventional rectangular panel grid; this adjustment will last only as long as the scene itself does, as we’ll see when we turn to the very next page…
“…never had a mother“? Hmm. Even in the Dark Dimension, that sounds pretty unlikely…
Clea returns to Stephen, who’s been meditating in her absence, and has decided that their best option for regaining his mojo from the entity currently holding it, the G’uranthic Guardian, is to work through Mother Nature. Clea objects that the captive goddess is too weak to free herself from Dormmamu’s captivity, but Dr. Strange counters that she may still be able to aid those who contend in her name. “She uses basic magic, on a worldly scale –”
The Mindless Ones, for anyone who doesn’t know (or just needs a reminder), are violent creatures who are restrained from wildly rampaging through the Dark Dimension only by means of a mystical barrier erected long ago by Dormammu; as Clea’s dialogue on the next page suggests, the M.O.s have by now been around so long that, dangerous though they remain, they’ve basically become a part of the landscape.
And it’s a good thing she does, since Orini and his demons have finally caught up with their quarry. “I gave you one chance to depart the dark domain in peace, woman,” Clea’s dad declares, “in foolish memory of what once was! No further allowance can you expect!”
So concludes Doctor Strange #8. We’ll proceed directly to the following issue, which, behind a cover by Gil Kane and Dan Adkins, brings us the storyline’s conclusion… as well as yet another inker for Gene Colan’s pencils, Frank Chiaramonte.
Chiaramonte is a talented artist, but one whose style isn’t a terribly good fit for Colan’s notoriously difficult-to-ink-well pencils. Unable to match the illustrative texture that Tom Palmer routinely brings to the embellishment of his frequent collaborator’s drawings, Chiaramonte’s finishes for this story look somehow incomplete by comparison; fortunately, the underlying strength of Colan’s art still comes through, for the most part.
The reaction of the indigenous canyon dwellers to the sudden emergence of this flame-headed giant is, Englehart’s script tells us, “grim — but stoic.“. The tourists who also populate the area at present? Um, not so much.
While this is going on, Dr. Strange and Clea arrive back home in our dimension in the same place they’d started from, i.e., the Sanctum Sanctorum. Doc is just about to teleport them both from there to the Grand Canyon when he notices Wong standing in the doorway…
One of Stephen Strange’s unexpected visitors, Rama Kaliph, had previously been seen in Doctor Strange #7 (and one other time before that, way back in Strange Tales #136). The other three — Turhan Barim, Lord Phyff, and Count Carezzi — are all appearing here for the first time.
Like Rama Kaliph, the Aged Genghis had been seen twice before his brief cameo above, and in the same places (Doctor Strange #7 and Strange Tales #136).
I’d like to believe that my seventeen-year-old self was sharp enough to see this revelation coming, back in May, 1975; I can’t swear to that, though. In retrospect, of course, it makes all the sense in the world.
Dr. Strange and Orini proceed to throw down, magically speaking, while Umar and Clea watch from the sidelines. “She’s playing with Stephen — with my father and all of us!” Clea thinks, referring to the entity we readers now know to be her mother. “To her, we’re like children!” And then an idea strikes her. “Wait!” she exclaims.
At this point, I imagine that at least some of you out there reading this are well past ready for these frequent cuts back to the dying Horse to finally pay off somehow. If you’re one of those, don’t worry — we’re almost there…
Back out west, Umar exults in her superior power over Dr. Strange and Clea. It hardly matters that they’ve pooled their power, she tells them. “We both encompass the power of two — but all my might lives in this one body! Your link will fail against my unified assault!”
Englehart’s scripting is pretty subtle here; but it’s apparently Horse’s invocation of his master with his literal dying breath that allows Dormammu to reverse the mystical polarity between himself and his sister, allowing the power to flow out of her and back into him. Magic works in mysterious ways, I guess.
Hey, look, it’s an “infinity” page! (Or a “Droste effect” page, if you want to be all highfalutin about it.)
And here, almost at the very end of the story, we have another cameo by the Aged Genghis. You might well wonder what the point is, seeing as these brief appearances by the senile sorcerer have had no apparent bearing on events; rest assured, Steve Englehart has a definite purpose in getting the old guy’s name and face into the heads of his readers, though the nature of that purpose won’t be revealed until the next storyline.
Each of Steve Englehart’s Doctor Strange storylines to date have concluded with what might be called an “oh, wow, man… heavy!” moment. In Marvel Premiere #10‘s finale to the Shuma-Gorath saga (a lengthy continuity that Englehart had actually inherited from Gardner Fox and others), the Master of the Mystic Arts had been forced to slay his mentor, the Ancient One — only to find that in doing so, he’d allowed the A.O. to become one with the universe, while he himself now ascended to the role of Sorcerer Supreme. Then, in Marvel Premiere #14, he’d met “God” and witnessed the birth (or maybe the re-birth) of the entire cosmos. Most recently, in Doctor Strange #5, he’d returned to life after having “died” in the previous issue.
Compared to those epochal events, DS #9’s “hey, look, everybody saved the world this time — yes, even you!” climax might seem like something of a comedown. But, to my mind, it’s at least as hippy-dippy as anything else Englehart had delivered since coming on board this feature in 1973. And as regards the overall storyline’s long-term implications for the future of Doctor Strange, not to mention the larger Marvel Universe, it’s arguably more consequential than anything else that had happened in the series since the Ancient One’s passing, due both to its revelations about Clea’s parentage and to its introduction of Mother Nature — or, as we’d soon come to call her, Gaea — as a powerful “new” player in the MU.
And, besides, if you really wanted too see a literal cataclysm — cosmic, or personal, or both — whenever Doctor Strange went on an adventure, you had only to wait for the very next storyline… which we will of course be covering here in future posts.
“hippy dippy” Alan, I love it!
I had thought Lord Phyffe had appeared in an early Dr. Strange story, but a check of GCD tells me I confused something . . . .
This Dormammu/Umar multi-issue storyline was what really turned me on to Dr. Strange in a big way, and that’s mostly because of Englehart’s portrayal of Clea (no surprise), who finally emerges as a capable disciple and not just Stephen’s lover. (Yes, she also had her moment in the Silver Dagger storyline, but this one really cemented it. Not only did we get her family story, she really was pivotal in several ways to saving Dr. Strange, and then freeing Gaea to allow Dormammu to ultimately be defeated. This storyline still holds up for me. Exciting and deep, in that “hippy dippy” way comics’ deepest stories often are. Great summary.
It’s weird but I loved Colan in every book he did from Daredevil to Night Force except Doctor Strange. The art usually didn’t factor into me buying a book though. I was all about the writing and Englehart was still one of my top favorites. I think he lost interest in being commercial as time went by but I still love this era’s stuff.
I guess Dormammu’s flames being a sign of regency over the Dark Dimension hasn’t been yet and that’s cool. I just wish the fact that practicioners from there were unable to perform our dimension’s magic without training from scratch. It also made Stephen extra powerful since that limitation never seemed to work the other way. Umar’s disdain for physical love was also jettisoned at least for humorous effect in a Defenders mini-revival when she got it on with the Hulk. Not that I’ve enjoyed many Defenders revivals that focus solely on the original three and act as if Silver Surfer was any kind of regular member when he was just as much a guest member like Daredevil and Power Man. I wish they’d focus on the longest term core membership of Doc, Hulk, Hellcat, Nighthawk, and Val as Namor’s short tenure puts him behind Kyle and Patsy in terms of importance to the team.
Gene Colan did great artwork on these, aided by Palmer and Chiaramonte, but I never picked them up. After Brunner’s work in the first five I had moved on.
At the time I guess I took Gene for granted (unfortunately), as his Marvel output was far more prolific and consistent than, say, Neal Adams. John Buscema was the same for me. Now in retrospect I admire them all the more for being able to turn up high quality work on a regular basis.
Artists like Wrightson, Kaluta, and Windsor-Smith seemed to lack the stamina to stay in one place for very long, unlike Kirby on FF or Romita Sr. on the Amazing Spider-Man (though he had pretty much burned out on the title by 124, doing mostly covers after that).
“Familiarity breeds contempt” would be too strong a phrase to use in my view (then) of Gene Colan, but I do confess that I didn’t regard his work as highly as I should have. He was a rare breed, being able to soldier on like that for years on end, and to keep the work fresh and interesting. Greg Capullo is one of the few in today’s mainstream who seems to be able to do the same, being on Batman for so many years, and keeping a high level of quality. The stories and the sensibilities thereof are not my cuppa though (Joker’s face being torn off and hung on a wall, e.g.).
Maybe it’s because I’m coming off a Georgian (that’s the Georgia of “Back in the U.S.S.R.,” not the Georgia of Hoagy Carmichael’s 1930 song) film called “April,” in which pregnancy and abortion are very important, but in revisiting *Dr. Strange* #9 with you, I found myself wondering about what it was like for Umar to give birth.
If she found the act of intercourse “disgusting” (I gather she’s become quite enthusiastic about it since the days of Orini), what was delivering Clea like for her? Was she calling out for eldritch enchantments? Shouting for the Dark Dimension equivalent of an epidural? Would she know why the Victorians spoke of “confinements”?
Did she confront Orini like Wanda MacPherson in *Baby Blues* with a glazed look in her eye and a dull, horrifying “you,..did…this…to…me…”?
Should Clea ever become a mother, I would love to see how Umar reacts to the prospect of being a grandmother.
“The baby will call you ‘Granny,’ of course,” says Clea, “like that dear old woman on ‘The Beverly Hillbillies.’*
(Clea launches into a spirited, if tuneless version of “The Ballad of Jed Clampett,” which causes Umar to promise her anything if she’ll only stop)
*
As Clea was introduced in 1964, when “The Beverly Hillbillies” was high in the ratings, and came to Earth in the late 1960s, when it was still running, I can see her being a big fan of the show.
Of course, missing “The Beverly Hillbillies” in the 1964 *Spider-Man* Annual caused May Parker to scream in horror.
Somehow, I doubt Clea calls mom that much.
If nothing else, the roaming charges are insurmountable,
You’re probably right (though I believe that Clea received a message of warning from Umar in an issue of *Marvel Premiere* during the Cthulhu storyline. She was being capricious rather than maternal, but still…), but I cherish this notion of Clea marrying Stephen and wanting Umar’s blessing.
“Umar does not give blessings! Ask for something else!”
“Well, since we are family now,” says Stephen, “and since I lost my mother long ago, may I call you ‘Mom’?”
“No, no, never!”
“That’s what I want…Mom.”
“What about swearing to aid you should my brother try to conquer the Earth again?”
“Oh, Mother,” says Clea, “Uncle D has already promised that.”
“Did you call the Dread Dormammu Uncle D?”
“Oh, yes,” says Clea, “and he promised us anything we liked if we would onlu stop.”
“He began with never attacking Earth again,” says Dr. Strange. “What else do you have…Mom?”
I missed #8 but got #9. Pretty heady stuff. In this era of comics, Englehart, Gerber & Starlin were the prime purveyors of trippy, epic storylines, albeit each taking their own weird roads. In the covers of both D.S. 8 & 9, the use of the common trope of the main baddy shown as a gigantic figure, with the heroes mere dolls within his hands, were in this instance actual representations of the story within rather than purely symbolic. Dormammu had grown to gargantuan size as Englehart played with the workings of magic and imagination. And Clea was playing a prominent role, wielding massive power, however briefly, but also having her own ideas as to what was required for the situation and playing them out successfully. As well as not being emotionally crippled at having to fight against her own father and mother, even if initially she was hesitant in dealing with her father and struggled with the idea that in the eyes of her people, she was a traitor, even though her “treason” was against a tyrant. Although played out here in otherworldly realms of the fantastic, there are plenty of parallels in the world we actually live in and are playing out even now in the good ol’ USA and in other nations. I enjoyed the fleshing out of the Dark Domain, however minimal. That it’s not all just bizarre, abstract pathways in space, but that there are places where grass grows, and presumably other plants and forms of life.
Also intriguing were the interplays of lust for power and sex, as between Umar and Orini as well as Horse and Umar, and even Dormammu and Mother Earth, perhaps taking inspiration from very ancient myths. Although not explicit, Englehart makes Dormammu’s desire to conquer Earth seem almost irrationally carnal, as if he just isn’t satisfied with what he already has in his own realm but craves something more, something different. Maybe lording it up in the Dark Domain has gotten just too dismally boring for him! But then, why do some billionaires want even more billions and want more power, more influence and dominance over so many more people?
Just some stray thoughts roaming in the canyons of my mind upon reading this latest half-century flashback to the colorful fantasies of our youths!
Yell at me if you will, but I was never a big Gene Colan fan. My major complaint resides primarily with whoever was inking him on a particular book, but his work always seemed rushed and unfinished to me. Yeah, sure, his layouts were good, but the drawings themselves for the most part seemed like little more than thumbnail sketches that an inker was supposed to make something “finished” out of. Again, my dislike rose primarily from how well the assigned inker was able to handle the chore of taking all the vague, unfinished lines and making it look like something–which Tom Palmer and Klaus Janson seemed to do better than anyone–but I’ve never understood the reverence most fans hold Colan in.
As for the story here, Englehart is thinking is usual “big thoughts” and most of it is fairly entertaining. Strange’s attitude toward Clea makes it seem that perhaps the girl traded one master for another when she changed allegiances, but I guess that sort of thing didn’t seem all that strange in 1975.
The reveal of Clea’s parentage came with the appropriate shock, but when did they change Clea’s father from Orini to Dormammu himself? Is that supposed to mean that somehow Dormammu had sex with this sister? And while we’re on the subject of uncomfortable sexual story points, I can’t imagine that the CCA didn’t notice Englehart’s not-so-subtle indication that Dormammu raped Mother Nature. He practically his the reader of the head with it. Rather, I assume the CCA felt the reference was vague enough to go over the heads of the average 8-year old who might be reading Doctor Strange (and, as Alan said, the occasional 17-year old) and wasn’t something to worry about.
I stopped reading Doctor Strange when Brunner left, so all this is new to me. Thanks for the rundown, Alan!
“…when did they change Clea’s father from Orini to Dormammu himself?”
I’m pretty sure they didn’t. To the best of my knowledge, Orini is still Clea’s dad in current continuity.
Is she Dormammu’s kid in the MCU then? I could have sworn I heard somewhere that Clea was Double D’s child. That’s what I’ve always thought, I think. That’s a weird little brain fart.
I don’t think we learned anything about the MCU Clea in her one post-credits scene to date (did they even give Charlize Theron’s character’s name? I can’t remember). Unless Marvel spilled the beams in a What If animated ep I haven’t seen, or in an interview somewhere, I think her parentage has yet to be established. At this point I just hope we see her again!
Thank you Alan.
I first read these stories in Marvel UK’s reprint weeklies. They were in black and white, each issue was split up into six- or seven-page weekly instalments, and thanks to a short-lived experiment with landscape format printing, the pages were shrunk down to fit two on a page, side by side. All of which reduced their impact somewhat. I still enjoyed them all the same.
Seeing them here, for the first time in many years, I find them quite staggering in their scope, ambition and sophistication, certainly compared to most other mainstream comics of the period.
Lots of things I could mention about the writing, but I’ll pick out three:
First, the scene where the little girl spots Stephen and Clea and runs off to tell her mother helps to bring to life the denizens of the Dark Dimension as people. They’re not just Dormammu’s flunkies, they’re people with lives and families and a community and to them, Stephen and Clea are the villains of the piece.
Second, the sight of a huge Dormammu tossing terrified tourists around while he mockingly exhorts them to “run for your sweaty lives! Run till your hearts burst and your lungs collapse!” is genuinely disturbing and brings home what a nasty piece of work he truly is, in a way seldom seen in comics then.
Third, when Umar calls her junky acolyte “Horse”, I didn’t at first reading all those years ago interpret this as you did, Alan, as being his nickname; rather, it seemed to me that she was expressing her contempt for him as no more than a beast of burden, there to do her bidding and nothing more. If he had a name, she wasn’t going to take the trouble of remembering it. I still think this interpretation works in context.
And as for the art – well, Colan was at the very top of his game here, even despite Chiaramonte’s unsympathetic inking in #9. The gargantuan stature of first Dormammu and then Umar is expertly conveyed by varying viewpoints and perspectives, and the facial expressions throughout, particularly in the scenes between Clea and Orini, are beautifully executed. And Umar, well, yes, she’s evil, but she’s still kind of hot. Or is that just me?
Nah, Colin. She’s definitely hot. 🙂
Kind of like Sophia Loren, if Sophia Loren was 60 feet tall and had sorcerous powers.
Can’t believe I just typed that sentence. Maybe our parents were right all along, and comics really do rot our brains.
Non lo è? Non dirglielo. . . . .
I certainly didn’t think this when I first read the issue 50 years ago but reading it now it immediately clicked that “Horse” is street slang for heroin. I don’t know if Horse’s name was mentioned in his previous appearances, but that, today, is where I figured that he got his name–as a heroin addict.
Yes, I definitely think that Umar is hot. However, she can’t be as hot as Dormammu with his head of flames. (Ducks)
Ah, I just looked up the page and saw that Alan noted that Horse was named for the first time here. I wonder if Engelhart named him Horse because of the street slang.
I wonder why I barely glanced at Dr. Strange during this era? I’d give almost anything a try if Englehart was writing it; I’m guessing the mysticism didn’t work for me back then the way Starlin’s cosmicness did. I appreciate the work much better now
I suspect Colan’s art may not have been what I wanted on a superhero book back then, but that would only show my lack of taste as a teen.
How did killing Horse advance Umar’s scheme?
One of the screen shots that Alan posted above shows that Dormammu ordered Umar to kill Horse because Horse had failed to kill Clea on Dormammu’s command. Not that Umar was choked up about doing this at all.
Thanks, missed that. Very much Dormammu’s style of leadership (“The Dark Dimension Method for Motivating Disciples,” by D. Mammu).
Another great mind-blowing Englehart storyline and one of my favorites which I totally enjoyed at the time and holds up very well now. Was there ever a better inker for Colan than Tom Palmer? He really is amazing and I was very pleased when he returned with Dr. Strange 11. Alan, I agree with your comments regarding the inking on Dr. Strange 9. It was disappointing without Palmer (or even Janson) but at this point in time, Colan’s penciling was so strong that it would still look good. A few observations: I was not very familiar with Umar at the time as I had not read her earliest appearances in Strange Tales (which I would find as back issues years later). Englehart really had a knack for taking old characters (such as Kang) and doing interesting things with them. Here he really elevated Umar into a major league villainess (and there were not many of them at Marvel at this time). And show her to be incredibly evil and ruthless (“Umar? A woman? HaHaHa!” Yikes!) And regarding Clea…. I was also not very familiar with Clea’s past as I had missed the first Dr. Strange series (169-183) entirely and only read those issues several years after Dr. Strange 9. Not that the first series revealed much about Clea. I only became familiar with Clea from her appearances in the Defenders, Marvel Premiere and the newer Dr. Strange series. I remember being very surprised by the revelation that Umar is Clea’s mother, and I believe this would be referred to as a “continuity implant.” What Englehart did here was really quite clever since he didn’t contradict anything in past Clea appearances, especially since she didn’t know or even mention anything about her mother. It’s also interesting that this story ends with Clea still not knowing the truth about her mother, but it’s also frighteningly clear that Umar has no maternal feelings towards Clea. Also, Dormammu’s reference to Clea as “traitress” a few issues earlier takes on a new and deeper meaning since he must know she is his niece! This demonstrates that continuity implants can be done well if done thoughtfully.
However, retcons (everything you know about this character is wrong) can be much trickier. Englehart tried this with the Falcon in March 1975 and I believe most people including myself wish he had not done that…
Thanks for another excellent review Alan. I look forward to your review of DS 10-13, another favorite of mine, and a story both mind-blowing and literally explosive.
In the spirit of Anonymous Sparrow and John Minehan’s comments above about the Strange family relationship (sorry) that would be created after Dr. Strange married Clea, let me just add that Doc’s Mother-in-Law problems would be even worse than Darrin Stephens’.
As I’ve mentioned earlier, when I was reading comics in my single digits and pre-teen years, I shamefully (well, ignorantly) didn’t pay attention to who was drawing and inking them. However, I definitely recognized and loved certain styles and eventually came to know to whom credit was due. One of my favorite pencillers turned out to be Gene Colan on the late 1960s Dr. Strange series and in Daredevil. However, looking at the inking now in DS#9, it is now very clear to me that a big part of my liking Colan’s pencils was Tom Palmer’s embellishments because the artwork in DS#9 I found very unsatisfactory viewing (Umar aside). By the way, my favorite Colan/Palmer combination ever (at least for nostalgic purposes) is Doctor Stange #180, which I believe is Roy Thomas’ favorite Dr. Strange book he worked on.
As always, thanks Alan for a great summary.
50 years ago and my mind was reeling after reading this issue….the seduction scene, the revelation about Clea’s parentage, the betrayal of Umar, the victory of Mother Earth and the sheer unworldliness of it all. I missed the significance of (or rather misunderstood!) Horse’s last words, so thanks Alan for pointing this out to the less perceptive of us after 50 years!
Although this may not have been Chiarmonte’s finest hour ( and it sometimes hard to judge as we don’t know the deadline pressures) the artwork still comes over as powerful and primal in essence, enhancing Englehart’s storyline. The same month as this DD#124 came out, with the best inking over Colan I have witnessed, by Klaus Janson, equal to Bill Everett’s inking of Colan on the Black Widow in Amazing Adventures #5 . In my opinion Colan was at his artistic height in ’75, and it’s hard to believe that a different management so callously got rid of him only a few years later