#mythological archetypes

[frc-heraldofdoom]

Doctor Doom: Guardian of Truth, Ruler of Nothing

Through recent readings, I came to realize just how strongly Doctor Doom resonates with the figure of the Fisher King from Arthurian myth 🤯

So... who's the Fisher King?

Parsifal and the Fisher King

In the Arthurian mythology, the Fisher King - also known as the Maimed King, the Wounded King or the Sinner King - is the last of a long line of rulers descending from Joseph of Arimathea, entrusted with guarding the Holy Grail or, in some versions, the Spear of Longinus, both represent the Truth, the Last Light.

He is a wounded and impaired monarch who reigns over a desolate realm known as the Wasteland. The Fisher King's wound can never be healed: only the knight destined to find the Grail can restore him, because the injury itself is not merely physical: it is a manifestation of the king’s own sins, moral failings and spiritual imbalance. His physical impairment is directly mirrored by the condition of his kingdom which is sterile, ruined, and fruitless.

As long as the Fisher King remains wounded, the Wasteland cannot flourish. Only when the right question is asked and the truth acknowledged can the king be healed—and with him, the land itself.

Why Doctor Doom mirrors this archetype with striking precision.

The Fisher King motif has long been tied to Doctor Doom as a character archetype, but it has become particularly apparent in recent stories such as Secret Wars (2025), One World Under Doom (2025), Doomed 2099 (2025) and Superior Avengers (2025). In the latter two, Doom is shown reigning over devastated, barren Earths; literal wastelands.

Doomed 2099 (2025)

These ruined domains are not merely settings, but symbolic extensions of Doom himself, whose inner wound manifests outwardly. This is particularly evident in the case of the Victor von Doom of Year 128 depicted in Superior Avengers: as Sorcerer Supreme, Doom makes himself the sole possessor of magic, effectively becoming its only vessel and binding the fate of that world to himself.

Nothing exists beyond Doom. From Superior Avengers (2025) #2

Doom's wound is both physical and moral. His disfigurement, hidden beneath his mask, functions as a permanent mark of his hubris: his refusal to accept limits, his obsession with mastery, and his belief that only he is fit to rule. It is a wound that cannot truly be healed, because it would require Doom to relinquish his pride and confront his own fallibility. As with the Fisher King, the injury is inseparable from the king’s identity and authority, his suffering reflects the damage and decay of the kingdom he rules.

This parallel can be pushed even further by turning to Parzival by Wolfram von Eschenbach. In this version of the myth, the Fisher King’s suffering is not merely passive. The Spear of Longinus, the very weapon that wounded Christ, is repeatedly driven into the king’s leg, deliberately reopening the wound and prolonging his agony.

Doctor Doom’s disfigurement functions in a strikingly similar way. His damaged face is a wound he refuses to let close. Doom continually reenacts his trauma through the mask, and through an identity built entirely around the idea of monstrosity. Even when presented with opportunities for healing or restoration, Doom rejects them. Not because healing is impossible, but because the wound has become inseparable from his sense of self.

Victor is asked why he refuses to heal his face by another version of himself from Doctor Doom #10 (2020) by Christopher Cantwell.

This reading aligns with Jack Kirby’s own interpretation of the character: that Doom is not truly hideously disfigured, but bears only minor scars. The real deformity is psychological. Doom considers himself monstrous, and thus he makes himself monstrous. He continuosly flagellates himself by convincing himself he's unworthy and hideous even though it is not the case, to the point where the very sight of his own face cripples him bringing him to desperation and madness.

This is particularly obvious in Fantastic Four #200: when Reed has to unmask him to save his own life, Victor is forced to see his face in millions of solar enhanced reflections and "Doom falls, whimpering like a mindless cur to the ground, grovelling out of control in a painful, contorted rage... that may never see an end." (Marv Wolfman, Fantastic Four #200)

Fantastic Four #200 (1978)

In this light, Doom’s mask is not merely armor or concealment—it is the Spear of Longinus that pierces him again and again, a reminder of sin, pride, and failure, endlessly reenacted. The tragedy of Doom is not that he cannot heal, but that he will not allow himself to do so.

Doom cannot bear the sight of his face from Fantastic Four #10 and the Spear of Longinus is plounged into the Fisher King's tigh.

And yet, just like the Fisher King, Doom is a custodian of truth. He possesses immense scientific, mystical and political knowledge. He understands cosmic forces beyond the grasp of most heroes, and often sees outcomes others cannot. His wisdom and superior vision make him a guardian of the truth about reality, responsibility, and destiny, even if others don't understand it.

Yet this knowledge isolates him. He is the only possible saviour of the entire Marvel universe, he is the one who holds the answer. He knows what must be done, but cannot (or will not) ask the “right question” that would allow genuine restoration because Doom's vision of order can only be imposed, never shared.

Even Doom’s famous banquets echo the Fisher King myth: just as Galahad is welcomed at the Fisher King’s court, Doom receives all visitors both allies and enemies with a grand banquet—an act that is at once ceremonial and symbolic. Doom’s banquets function as thresholds. To dine at Doom’s table is to enter his domain on his terms—an assertion of sovereignty, control, and authority rather than simple courtesy.

Doctor Doom welcomes his guests in Fantastic Four #87 (1969) as depicted by Jack Kirby, and the Fisher King's banquet shown in a miniature from a 14th-century edition of Perceval, the Story of the Grail, by Chrétien de Troyes.

Oh and I won't point out how Doom's always portraited with that damn chalice of red wine in his hand 'cause, well... erm... any similarity to the Grail is purely coincidental? ^^

Doctor Doom from Super-Villain Team Up #10 by Bob Hall and the Fisher King as depicted by AJ King

Latveria: the Suspended Kingdom

Leeming writes that the Fisher King’s people “live, and yet are dead because God punished them after one brother smote the other for his land.” (Leeming David Adams. Mythology: The Voyage of the Hero., 1998.) This image of a population condemned to a state of living death finds a haunting parallel in Latveria under Doom’s rule.

Latverians are alive, protected, and materially provided for, but they exist in a condition of profound stasis. Their lives are stripped of meaningful choice, history, and moral consequence. Doom has ended conflict, but at the cost of vitality.

Latveria itself can be read as a modern variation of the Fisher King’s Wasteland. Not literally, as it is it is an orderly, technologically advanced and prosperous nation, but spiritually.

Latveria is a country suspended outside normal history and politics. It does not grow, change, or evolve through its people, but through Doom alone. It flourishes only insofar as Doctor Doom’s will remains absolute.

Just like the Fisher King’s injury has broken the natural order of his land, Doom's personal wound (his disfigurement, his pride, his unresolved guilt and trauma) prevents true renewal. There is no succession, no future beyond Doom himself. The land cannot outlive the king.

This parallel is particularly explicit in earliest portrayals of Latveria by Lee and Byrne, where the country is depicted as a seemingly idyllic and bucolic land, peaceful, orderly, almost fairy-tale in appearance. Yet beneath this surface lies something deeply unsettling. Happiness is not organic but enforced; dissent is unthinkable; and no one is allowed to leave the country or exist outside of Doom’s absolute control. (It improved over time; nowadays Latveria is no different from any other country, though it remains tied by a single thread of destiny to its king — but that is not what we are discussing here.).

Latveria as depicted by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby in Fantastic Four (1961) #84

Latverians smile, work, and praise their ruler, but no one is permitted to leave. They exist under the shadow of an ancient, unresolved sin that dates back to Cynthia von Doom's pact with Mephisto. Doom has ended conflict, Doom has brought peace but also a society bound eternally to the wound of its king.

Until that wound is healed, or acknowledged, the kingdom can only remain a controlled ruin, sustained by power rather than renewed by life. Everything is as Doom wants, he is Latveria and Latveria is Doom. They're bound and cursed together.

Latveria as a wounded Camelot

Latveria is a Camelot turned inward. An “ideal” kingdom on paper: a world power orderly, protected, free from crime and chaos, just and luminous but it is an empty ideal. It is just a memory, a promise deferred, a kingdom caught between what it was meant to be and what it can never really become. Its fate is suspension rather than destruction.

Doom, like the wounded king of Arthurian myth, maintains the structure of the realm while its spirit remains unresolved.

Where Camelot waits for the return of the king or the healing of the land, Latveria waits for something that can never arrive because Doom refuses the conditions that would allow healing. There is no space for the Grail question, no knight allowed to challenge the king’s wound. In this sense, Doom is both Arthur and the Fisher King: founder and destroyer, ideal and obstacle, savior and condemnation.

What ails thee?

Such a simple question, isn't it? What pains you? What's causing you trouble? A question Victor knows, and one to which he already knows the answer.

And yet Doom isolates himself ensuring no one can force the question. Reed glimpses it in Secret Wars (2015) by Jonathan Hickman, Valeria in One World Under Doom (2025) by Ryan North, but Victor rejects them, preferring godhood's stasis. The Fisher King's hope lies in prophecy: the pure fool arrives unbidden. But Doom refuses to see them, and refuses to be them.

Even when saviors do appear, their approach must be just right. Reed’s intelligence and intentions are admirable, but his method lacks the purity and perspective required to awaken Doom (let's be honest empathy and tact have never been Reed's stronger qualities XD) . Valeria comes closer, yet Doom’s refusal to acknowledge the truth bars even her.

Valeria tries to make Victor see reason, but Doom denies her pleas in One World Under Doom #8 (2025)

Doom's refusal to truly "ask the question", his refusal to yield to Valeria's plea in One World Under Doom ("Where does this end? Please, Uncle Doom... I want you to stop.") leads to her death by his own hand, forcing a sacrifice that echoes his eternal wound. Yielding means admitting he's doing everything for pride, it means admitting the wound is what defines him.

Reed makes the accusation explicit across multiple arcs. In Secret Wars: “You’re so afraid of losing what you’ve saved… you hold them too tight,” identifying Doom’s grip as the cause of the "Wasteland". In One World Under Doom: “There was perhaps never another man more gifted… and better suited to be a great and benevolent leader, if he chose to be… than Victor von Doom. But instead of helping people, you helped yourself,” diagnosing the hubris Victor reenacts every day.

Victor concedes that Reed would have done a better job than him in re-creating reality... yet he still refuses to accept it or yield. From Secret Wars (2015) #9.

Doom doesn't need to ask "What ails me?": he knows, and these pleas confirm it. Healing demands release: loosening his grip on Latveria and the world, sharing truth rather than imposing it. But that would mean annihilation for him: the mask is the Spear, pride is his kingship.

He may sacrifice godhood, empire, even life but never his pride, preferring stasis over renewal. Reed and Valeria offer the Grail’s light; Doom extinguishes it, condemning his realm, every realm he rules, in every reality, to a state of living death.

Saviors arrive, but the king bars the castle gate himself. Even the right intentions cannot overcome a will so bound to pride and identity.

This is Doom’s seal, the reason why he resonates eternally.

[mask131]

As I am making my way down the Dictionary of Female Myths, I thought of sharing some articles not about the Greco-Romans for once! And since we are in summer – it means beach, water, sea – so welcome this loose translation/vague recap of an article about the myth of the Mamy Watta, written by Lilyan Kesteloot!

Kesteloot presents the myth of the Mamy Watta as being present across most of the shores and coastal areas of Africa, and as an equivalent to the myth of the mermaid in Europe. Like her, the Mamy Watta is a “lady of the waters” or a “water woman” who lives in the depths of the sea, and has an habit of seducing human men – but any further correspondence between the two legends stops there.

The several Mamy Watta (aka, “mamy water”) find their origins in the religious animism of the continent: they are first and foremost spirits and goddesses that received a worship. For example, the sea goddess Yemandja wo is present among the pantheons of the Yoruba, Ewe and Fon (Nigeria, Togo, Benin). The imagery of the rituals depicts Yemanda with long black hair contrasting with a light-colored skin ; often her half-naked body is surrounded by a long snake. She has her own priestesses, and her faithful followers: her cult and myths were transported, almost without modification, to Haiti and Brazil, due to most of the imported slaves of these countries coming from the South-Western coast of Africa. But the Mamy Watta of Africa is also found all throughout the Antilles (West Indies), under the name of “Manman di l’eau”.

On the shores of Senegal, the myth of the Water Lady is very active and linked to specific rituals. She is one of the “rab”, the genies that haunt the sacred places of the country, and to which one must make sacrifices only when they manifest. The sea-rab appears in men’s dreams and “calls” for them. The one who has been “called” during his sleep must answer this call, or face grave troubles. Usually he mut go see a specialist, a “ndeupkat”, who will reveal to him the name of his rab, how to satisfy it, and what he is forbidden to do. The man will have to regularly offer the rab milk and millet porridge, and it will become his personal protecting spirit. This alliance can however enter in conflict with the man’s human marriage, or the relationship between the man and the rab can deteriorate if there is a form of negligence. Then, the rab becomes not a protector but a tormentor, by disturbing the spirit and twisting the behavior of the “unfaithful” partner. The man will either suffer from a madness in the form of regular mental breakdowns, or from a long and deep depression. This type of rab-caused disorders are well-known among the Wolof, Lébou and Sereer. To heal the victim, one must gather specialists to organize a “Ndeup”, a ceremony which lasts from three days to a week. Its purpose is to reconcile the sick man and his rab, by sacrificing a cow, painting the man with the cow’s blood and making him drink it, then covering him with white veils. The rab is prayed to with lengthy melodies, and finally one must take the sick man take a bath in the sea – supposedly healing him and reconciling him with his “sea-bride”. To put it briefly: one can never get rid of a sea-rab, one must simply learn to live with it. The rab can sometimes appear not as a woman, but as a man – however in these cases, it always calls out to women rather than men.

Another type of Mamy Watta manifestations can be identified at the mouth of rivers. It is considered that these legends were born out of the sighting and presence of manatees/sea cows, large sea-mammals with breasts: they are perceived as the manifestations of the water-spirit in countries such as Cameroun, Gabon and Congo. The encounter with these spirit-women is not codified by religion: rather, when someone is harassed by one, it is considered as a charm or spell that must be dispelled by a healer. However, among the Douala, the “Djengu” is a key part of the initiation rituals of the Ngondo society.

Finally, sometimes the Mamy Watta can live inside the continent, in lakes and rivers. We know, for example, of Faro, the twin sister of the god Pemba, a primordial goddess of the Bambara mythology. She lives within the Niger river and commands fecundity, both human and vegetal. She is linked to the problems women must face, and to the rituals surrounding the birth of children. She has priests dedicated to her: she can appear as a woman, but usually manifests as a fish ; specific fish species, such as the catfish, are considered her companions. Further away in the Niger river, by the area of the Niamey, another water-spirit rules: Harakoy. Legend claims she was a Fulani woman who was seen naked in her bath, and out of shame she threw herself in the river, never to come out of it again. Ever since, she lives in the water: the fishermen worship her, and so do the Sonrhaï, riverside farmer, and she regularly appears by the side of other local deities. There is also Mame Coumba Lamba, who rules over the Senegal river and the city of Saint-Louis: she is said to be responsible for either the abundance or rarity of fishes, as well as the sudden floods of the river. A last example would be Mame Yungume, who haunts the mouth of the Gambie and Saloum rivers.

The presence of those water-goddesses is very prominent across the African continent, not to say almost banal – and those listed above are but a handful of them. It is notably because the myth of the Mamy Watta is still very much alive and active in Africa, unlike the legend of the mermaid in Europe. Be it individual or collective, as a long as a myth finds roots within rituals or a cult, it becomes part of the religion. Most of the legends described here are tied to local religions still in full strength today, while the sirens of Odysseus or the Little Mermaid of Andersen were reduced a long time ago to mere literary figures.

The image, or rather the very concept of the “women” that comes out of those water-ladies is not clear-cut or one-sided. If in Europe the mermaid is always a beautiful seductress who is dangerous to the sailors, in Africa the appearance and roles of the Mamy Watta are diverse. The rab described above, for example, are not particularly graceful or charming – they can even appear as old people, since they are called “Mame”, which means “grandmother”. Their manifestations are sometimes scary, and they can sport monstrous appearances. As for Faro, the main goddess of the Bambara mythology, she appears to her chosen ones as a mother rather than a wife, when she doesn’t take the shape of a giant fish.

The behavior of the Mamy Watta is ambivalent, and mankind’s alliance with them just as ambiguous. If one honors and worship the Mamy Watta, she will favorize you. But if you offend a Mamy Watta, by either transgressing a rule or neglecting a sacrifice, she will get angry and persecute you. But are they more demanding or capricious than the other spirits and gods of Africa? One cannot really claim such a thing, their role even seems to be quite positive: they do not wish the destruction of their human partners. They are rarely wicked, as long as the terms of their alliance/union are respected ; and this is unlike Mousso Koroni for example, the goddess of disasters of the Bambara cosmogony, who takes the appearance of a witch and always manifests herself with violence and destruction.

Sometimes, the Mamy Watta can be androgynous, sporting masculine traits ; other times they actually have a family of their own: Faro for example was said to have a husband, and Faro-children who stole vegetables from the gardens near the river. The Mamy Watta, whose tales are always told by moonlight, are always ambiguous, as much in their role as in their gender.