MARTHA THOMASES: Why I love the Legion
It was in early 1980 when I realized what I geek I had turned into. The night before, I had a dream. My dream was not the inspirational kind like Martin Luther King, Jr., nor the poetic kind that Neil Gaiman would later spin into a career that brings happiness to millions.
I had a geek dream.
In my dream, the Ramones tried out for the Legion of Super-Heroes, and were turned down because Legion rules didn’t allow for more than one person to have the same super-power, which, in this case, was being a Ramone. I no longer remember precisely who turned them down, but I do remember Bouncing Boy suggesting they join the Legion of Substitute Heroes. Joey wanted to, but Dee Dee refused.
Then I woke up.
I read my first Legion story in Jamestown, New York, visiting my grandparents in the late 1950s or early 1960s. I had what must have been an Adventure comic, with a story about the adult Legion of Super-Villains fighting Superman, and the adult Legion of Super-Heroes joining in. My grandparents, while lovely people, were very boring, and I dove into that comic as a way of avoiding Lawrence Welk on television. Luckily, this eight-page story had plenty to mesmerize a young girl. Cosmic King versus Cosmic Man! Lightning Lord versus Lightning Man! Saturn Queen versus Saturn Woman! The villains had regal names while the heroes had descriptive names. Clearly, ego and a class system must be what turned people bad.
Over the next several decades, I read as many Legion stories as I could. I loved the variety of powers these kids had (Matter-Eater Lad!), and that they had a meetings where they could gather and sit behind desks, with title cards that explained their abilities, in case they forgot. (“I’m Invisible Kid, but I don’t know what I do. Oh, here it says on my name-plate. I can turn invisible!”)
But mostly, I loved that they had a clubhouse.