Warhammer 40,000: Marneus Calgar
Kieron Gillen loves, “Warhammer 40k,” the far-future version of venerated RPG series “Warhammer,” a whole lot. How much does he love it? He loves it so much that when Marvel picked up the license to make comics based on “Warhammer 40k,” Gillen came back to the company to write one and oversee future comics much in the same way that Jonathan Hickman is doing for “X-Men.” Which means that in addition to telling a compelling story on its own terms, “Marneus Calgar” also has to sell us on the idea of reading more comics set in this universe. I’m honestly surprised to say that’s a prospect I’m lukewarm on after reading this volume.
“Marneus Calgar” is, in theory, the ideal kind of tale to introduce us to the “Warhammer 40k” universe. It’s an origin story for one of its greatest heroes, the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines who is leading the fight against the Chaos Gods and their insatiable need for blood. For a series that has such reputedly dense and expansive lore, it makes a certain amount of sense to start with the story behind a character who is a living legend within it. If all the important stuff is happening around him, then the unconverted can get a good look at it and see if the “Warhammer 40k” universe is for them.
Based on this volume, the only thing that this universe has to offer me is a setting that’s grimdark to the point of absurdity. If we’re comparing British dystopias from the future, then “Warhammer 40k” strikes me as “Judge Dredd” on a cosmic scale. Everything is horrible, new crises rear their heads on an hourly basis, millions (or billions) die even if they’re resolved successfully, and only one man stands between humanity and the forces of Chaos. Oh, and the humor is always dark, but knowingly so.
That’s the vibe I got reading through the infodumps regarding the history of this particular universe that are strewn throughout the volume. The world of “Warhammer 40k” is certainty a colorful place, what with its vegetative Emperor of Mankind ruling from his Eternal Throne on Earth, the mutiny of half of the Ultramarine Corps to the Chaos Gods and the Black Crusades meant to pacify them, one of said crusades being destructive enough to rend the galaxy in two, and a general life expectancy of 30-40 years throughout the Empire. It’s just that we’re only told about these things rather than shown them up close. I can understand the need to ease the audience into some of this stuff, but I’ve seen so many futuristic dystopias over the years that I need more than words for them to stand out to me.
This wouldn’t have mattered as much if Marneus’ origin story was genuinely interesting. Gillen teases it out well enough in the sense that seeing the main character as a boy does offer sufficient explanation of how he became the man we see in the present-day sequences. The problem is that you’ll likely be able to see where his story, and the story of this volume, is going to go by the end of the first issue. What follows are four issues of flashbacks showing Marneus’ training and his efforts to root out the source of a heretic attack on the same planet decades later. With no real surprises to offer, you’ll be feeling the measured pace of the narrative with every page.
At least it has Gillen’s wit to liven things up. While I’ve praised this aspect of his writing in numerous projects before this one, “Marneus Calgar” would likely have been insufferable without it. That’s because while the setting of “Warhammer 40k” is ridiculously grimdark, the writer is fully aware of how ridiculous it all is. It’s why the infodump pages are filled with darkly comic quotes about how freedom from thought is the only real freedom of the universe. Or the last words of [REDACTED] being about how you have to admire the heretics’ persistence after thirteen Black Crusades, since he’d have given up after the eighth. Bits like these help distinguish this world by giving it a darkly comic bent rather than a wholly serious one. Which gives the world more character than it would have otherwise because it lets us know that the unrelenting horror of the “Warhammer 40k” universe has actually crossed the line over into (grim) comedy.
Helping that along is artist Jacen Burrows. He imbues most of the proceedings with a dry, no-fuss approach that delivers the story in a straightforward manner. Whether that involves kids knife-fighting to first blood, or Marneus murdering all those who charge up some steps towards him. While this means that we’re not getting a particularly flashy take on the adventures of the Ultramarines, it’s still appealing to look at and easy to follow. More importantly, Burrows’ approach syncs well with Gillen’s writing. The dryness of the artist’s approach allows the writer’s barbs and bon mots to land without distracting from the carnage of the story.
There is, however, one bit of storytelling necessity that Burrows can’t quite sell. This would be the fact that Marneus is the only Ultramarine in the story who goes around with his helmet off. Given how dangerous the world of “Warhammer 40k” is shown to be, running into beyond deadly combat situations without some kind of headgear comes off as dangerous bordering on insanity. It’s something that’s never mentioned within the context of the story, so I’m under the assumption that we’re not meant to think about this too hard. Yet, to see the main character of this story, the greatest of the Ultramarines, run through it without anything protecting his head, it… it just takes me out of the whole experience.
All of this is a roundabout way of saying that I never fully got into the story that Gillen and Burrows were telling here. It’s fine if you’re looking for an ultraviolet slice of militarized space adventure, but it has no real surprises or innovations to offer beyond that. Maybe you’ll get more out of this if you haven’t seen as many future dystopias as I have. Still, I’m willing to bet that a lot of you will probably wind up wondering just why Marneus runs around this story without wearing a helmet. It’s like he’s asking for the Blood God to take all of the blood in his head first.