Sunday Comics: On Superheroes, Part 1

Article 1: Setting the tone.

(Sorry for the wall of text--images forthcoming. Wanted to be sure I got this up first. --HC)


So for the next few weeks, Sunday Comics is going to be a little different. I’m
 branching out again. I’ve decided, more or less on a whim, to do a series of posts on my various beefs with the present state of superhero comics; especially various types of stagnation I think it’s time the genre got over, and possibly extrapolate from that (possibly) what this might be doing to the advancement of comics as a whole; if not the whole than at least what potential growth it could be inhibiting in its own genre.


However, before I launch into all that and subject you to several weeks’ worth of argument, I thought it would be in good taste to lay out more of what I’m trying to do with this and diffuse some of the potential nerd-rage that this sort of thing could spark.


Point one: I’m doing this for fun. I’m not out to ruin someone else’s fun, I’m not out to utterly decry the superhero genre, and I’m certainly not doing this to bash superhero fans. I’m just making my own observations on why I, personally, think the genre needs some work if it’s going to continue to survive. There are things about it, common tropes within it, that bug me. I recognize that some of these things might even be reasons that other folks enjoy the genre, and more power to ‘em. Tropes Are Not Bad.


Point two: I’m not trying to assert some sort of superiority. I recognize that the sorts of comics I usually like, if my usual Sunday Comics entries are anything to go by, often involve a distinct lack of superhuman individuals in bright shiny costumes. I’m not an expert on superheroes. Certainly I know a lot more about them than Average Joe—whenever a hero flick looks interesting to a non-comics-familiar friend of mine, I’m often the person they go to in order to ask, “okay, so what’s this character all about”—but I read comparatively few actual superhero comics. Much of what I know about them comes from a weird sort of osmosis developed from being a comics geek in general. I’m not saying the comics I typically enjoy are better than these—that, I would define through actual quality rather than genre. (And one of the most revered graphic novels in Western comics—Watchmen—is itself a superhero story.) And yeah, I recognize I’ll be using a lot of generalities in this. I recognize not all superhero comics are like what I’ll be discussing, and I’m sure many of you can think of subversions to the complaints that will be brought forward (if you can, I’d still love to hear them!), in fact, I know I’ll probably be able to myself. But it’s such a hugely prominent genre within comics (at least Western comics) with such firmly established clichés and expectations and tropes, plus the convenience of being put out in the most volume by a mere two companies, that I think I’m entitled to bring out a broader brush for the sake of these articles.


Point three: I’m not anti-superhero. I promise, I’m not. While I’m not a hugely enthusiastic fan of them, I do like a good Spider-Man or Batman or X-Men story, and I do enjoy some of current wave of superhero movies, when they look interesting to me (I admit as of late I’m rather burnt out on and jaded by most of them). I have friends who are superhero fans. I go to comics conventions, where superhero fans and costumers run rampant, and I bear them no ill will at all. The point of these entries is not “Superhero comics are bad and you should feel bad.” It’s a fun genre that still has lots of potential to tell interesting stories and if anything, I’m trying to do it a bit of service through this. Again, not that I’m some sort of authority or anything.


Beyond these points, I feel I should also define my terms here—specifically, what I think a “superhero” even is, and henceforth what we’re going to use the term “superhero comics” to stand for. Let’s start with that celebrated old resource, the dictionary. While the dictionary I use here (Oxford American Desk Dictionary, Second Edition) doesn’t have an entry for “superhero,” it does contain entries for the words from which the term is derived—“superhuman” and “hero.” Let’s examine those.


Superhuman:
1.) Beyond normal human capability.
2.) Above what is human.

Hero:
1.) A person admired for nobility, courage, or outstanding achievements.
2.) A great warrior.
3.) The chief male character of a poem, play, or story.
4.) A submarine sandwich.


When I think of a superhero, I think predominantly of the first definition of the former combined with the first definition of the latter, with some supplemental conditions. Many people believe superheroes must have explicitly non-human abilities, but I prefer Oxford’s definition here—“beyond normal human capability,” which lets us allow for figures such as Batman or others whose abilities are not other than human, but merely extraordinary for a human. The “hero” portion of the definition is more flexible these days, thanks to concepts like Byronic heroes, anti-heroes, and even outright villain protagonists proving viable in superhuman adventure stories. So rather than claiming a superhero, as a generalized term, must be classically heroic, I’d say instead that a superhero must fit a slightly modified version of the earlier definition—that they must have some noteworthy accomplishments under their belt, be they good or bad. Now, this alone still does not define a “superhero.” I can think of other characters that are distinctly not superheroes that still fit the description we have so far—as an example, Dream, of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series, comes to mind. There is another piece of the puzzle, and that is the idea of an alter ego.


Not necessarily a secret identity—not all superheroes’ identities are secret—but the idea of a duality, of either their fantastical or mundane selves being less of their identity than the other, or even of there simply being a divide at all. Even if Superman stopped being Clark Kent, he still has the duality of being a Kryptonian trying to live amongst humans. Even though Iron Man’s identity is publicly known, that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t have to deal with issues unique to just Tony Stark. Doctor Manhattan may be permanently stuck as a superhuman being, but he will never forget that he used to be human. This component comes about necessarily via the nature of a superhero’s other requirements—if they were constantly surrounded by other superhumans that also accomplished noteworthy things, there would be no basis for comparison. A superhero must be somehow special within their own story, set apart somehow—they can be part of larger teams, but there is always someone to have them compared to, always citizens or victims or what-have-you. If their alter ego is the superhero figure, then they will be special because they rise up out of their mundanity to become something greater, some sort of walking symbol. If their alter ego is their “ordinary” self and they consider their superhuman self truer, than the experience of having to live among those who will always be, in some capacity, strangers provides the duality.


So, to recap, when we talk about superhero comics here, for maximum clarity, we’re talking about comics concerning the adventures of individuals with abilities beyond average human capacity that have, likely using these abilities, accomplished notable things, and must deal to at least some extent with some sort of duality concerning themselves. We good? Good.


Join me next week for the first part of this series proper, where I’ll talk about the current “events” system for superhero comic plot arcs, and why I think making it your main way of doing things is neither sustainable nor a good way to attract fresh readers.


Before I close this off, I’d like to also introduce my friend Ciandi, also known as Ciandimus, Queen Didactica, The Philosigoth, Ciandi Mandy Bo Bandy, and a couple others I may have made up. She presently runs a historical-cliché-dissection blog called Let Me Ruin That For You and will be graciously writing supplementary articles concurrently with these, as she loves her comics almost as much as she loves her discourse, and I wanted to give her a chance to argue or agree. Look for ‘em at the end of these!


Next Week, Then.


[Holden Out.]

(PS. Thanks to Brunhilde of Unicorn's Perspective for being my editor. <3)