The Man Who Died Twice

It's really neat when a writer and artist can take a very cliched trope, play it straight and still do something fun with it.

"The Man Who Died Twice," published in House of Mystery #225 (June/July 1974) does just that. Written by Jack Oleck and drawn by Alfredo Alcala, it does indeed play the "Deal with the Devil" cliche completely straight. A man sells his soul to Satan to get the thing he most wants. He gets it, but in a way that leaves him worse off than he was before.

You know from the first panel that Giles Mornay is going to come to a tragic if well-deserved end. But all the same, the story is fun due to a combination of Alcala's atmospheric art work and enough interesting details to keep the reader intrigued.

Mornay is a poor cobbler who dreams big. He's a peasant, but feels he was destined to be a nobleman and looks down his nose at his equally poor neighbors. Determined to actually become a nobleman, he is constantly trying to summon the devil, must to the disgust and fear of his long-suffering wife.

It's only after Mornay murders his wife in a fit of rage, the devil finally appears. The deal is this: Mornay confesses to the murder and gets executed. He must spend a year in the grave--but the devil promises he won't die. Then he'll get the body of a noble.

Mornay goes along with this. He's hanged for the murder and buried, but he remains suspended in a sort-of not-quite-dead state. Though he rots away into a moldy skeleton, he still lives.

The devil, of course, hopes that this experience will drive Mornay insane. But the cobbler's overwhelming desire to become a noble keeps him going. When the year is up, he digs his way out of his grave and confronts the devil, demanding his new body.

The devil lives up to his part of the bargain, moving Mornay's soul into a nobleman's body. Mornay, though, had no idea that there had been a revolution during his year in the grave. It was no longer healthy to be a nobleman.

Alcala's art really does sell the story. Setting it in 18th Century France--along with the irony of Mornay's disdain of his fellow peasants & desire to be a noble--effectively sets up the twist at the end and gives clever readers a chance to guess what's coming without this spoiling the story. It's similar to the satisfaction of figuring out who the killer is in a mystery novel by legitimately spotting the clues--it enhances the big reveal rather than spoils it.

Cliches often exist because they are effective storytelling tools. Used poorly, they can ruin a story. But if used skillfully, even the oldest cliches can still be effective.

Next week, we'll get back to superheroes with a look at a two-part story from Marvel Two-in-One that packs a lot of emotional punch.