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wereright · 7 years
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Who is Batman?
I have loved superheroes since I was two. But unlike most of you, I'm willing to bet, there's one hero who just doesn't work for me.
Superheroes, the ones who last, have a unique life among fictional characters. Superman has had stories written about him and published continuously for 77 years. Spider-man for 53. Wolverine for 41. These are characters whose stories have no end by design. Even death is just another plot point for them. Over the course of their lives the hundreds of writers, artists, and editors who've handled them have helped them evolve and refocused their interpretations to show new facets through the years. The Superman who appeared in Action Comics #1 is not the same one who was killed by Doomsday is not the one written by Chuck Austin is not the one who starred in All-Star Superman.
Over the decades, the most lasting pieces of these characters get distilled by the zeitgeist and the fans to form a more or less cohesive character. There are always comic readers who say things like, "I only liked the Flash while Mark Waid was writing him," or, "Superman would be awesome if he would just get his hands dirty," but they are defining their preferred version of the character by contrasting him or her to what the popular interpretation is.
Which brings me to the character I have issues with: Batman. Like Superman, he's been around for closing in on 80 years and in that time he's been any number of things. There's a version of him for everyone. But it seems that the consensus surrounding the character dictates a hero I just can't get behind. It's seemed that way since Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy ended.
More than any other hero, Batman is defined by tragedy. I think that's my hang up. I don't enjoy, can't have escapist fun with, or imagine a better world built by someone who wallows in the darkest moment of his own life.
The blame for this naturally falls on Frank Miller. The Dark Knight Returns turned Batman away from being a superhero and the World's Greatest Detective and towards being a demigod, a Hades to Superman's Apollo. Miller's Batman isn't a detective, he's omnipotent. He isn't a man trained to physical perfection, he calls on the powers of Hell that visited him the night his parents were murdered to give him the strength to beat alien gods into the pavement. And Miller's subsequent work in the Dark Knight universe--The Dark Knight Strikes Again and All-Star Batman and Robin--have only pushed things further.
What's the counterpoint to this Batman of the Underworld? I think the answer lies in the character's natural progression as a hero.
Batman is born when Bruce watches his parents die in front of his eight-year-old eyes. Something not enough people ask is, "How does this scar Bruce psychologically?" They instead accept that Billionaire + Tragedy + Training + Batsuit = Justice.
Seeing his parents' deaths exposes some of the most common lies parents tell their children: "You are safe. I will always be there for you. I will protect you no matter what."
Bruce's issues all revolve around trust. A stranger came out of the night and took his security away forever. If his parents can be killed, anyone can. If a man on the street can pull a gun and put a life in danger, anyone can. Bruce can no longer trust the unknown to be good or the good not to hurt him by leaving forever. He can only trust himself. So he has to be ready for whatever might come out of the night for him.
But there's one exception. Alfred. Alfred hasn't violated the promises of safety and security. Alfred is the one who has been there for Bruce through everything. He's the one reminder of the world before it became this horrible place full of shadows.
And as we know from the stories, there will be others who will earn Bruce's trust. James Gordon. Dick Grayson. Lucius Fox. Superman.
Yes, Superman. The Batman I could believe in--Batman, the superhero--trusts his allies instead of plotting their eventual deaths behind their backs.
My preference for the prehistory of Batman, that vague five-year span (and earlier) that DC built in before the first issues of the New 52 reboot, includes a teenage Bruce meeting a teenage Clark Kent and the two of them forming the first true friendship either of them has experienced. Clark gets someone he doesn't have to hide his abilities from while Bruce finds the first person who's every bit as good a he appears to be. What's more, he's bulletproof. He's someone Bruce doesn't have to worry about protecting or being abandoned by. Not that this part appeals to Bruce on a conscious level, but subconsciously Clark and his friendship are the antidotes to Bruce's scars. Forming that friendship is the beginning of the healing process for Bruce.
That's the key word in all of this. The thing "my" Batman has that Frank Miller's never will is a chance to heal the wounds his parents' deaths left him with. It won't be quick, and in comic book time it'll never be finished, but here's what it might look like:
--Eight year old Bruce watches his parents' murder. He's left with no family except Alfred.
--A series of psychologists are unable to help Bruce. They never manage to establish trust and Bruce never opens up to them. Bruce begins to read about psychology on his own and later criminology as well.
--Bruce begins taking self-defense classes to try and gain a sense of control over his fears and his environment.
--At Alfred's insistence, Bruce enrolls in private school starting in 7th grade. He can't stand the other students or his teachers, but for Alfred's sake he does his best to tolerate them.
--In his late teens, Bruce meets Clark Kent. They each reveal their true selves to the other and keep in contact when they return to their separate worlds.
--Bruce leaves Gotham on the pilgrimage that will forge him into Batman.
--Bruce returns to Gotham and begins his war on crime. He meets James Gordon and finds in him the first ally he can count on since Clark.
--Bruce meets Dick Grayson and takes him in, eventually training him to become Robin. This is a huge step in Bruce's growth. He's taking responsibility for someone else for the first time. If something happens to him now, there is someone else who will be without a father figure. This likely becomes Bruce's deepest fear, the possibility of leaving someone behind the way his parents left him.
There are more opportunities in there and after, but you get the point. Jason Todd's death would be another landmark, of course, as would Dick leaving to become Nightwing if it's played as a child rebelling against his father. Like in any continuing story with a theme, there would be advances and setbacks for Bruce's ability to trust others.
The important thing is that this makes Bruce human instead of an avatar of rage. People call Superman unrelatable because he's a paragon who always makes the right choice, but Miller's Batman is no better. He's a man trapped for eternity in a place of bitter anger, stuck trying to mold the world in his own image and taking out anyone who stands in his way.
To mourn is human, but all mourning ends someday. We revisit the memories of those we lose and we feel their absence at our core, but that pain stops controlling us at some point. Batman shouldn't be built on the idea of making others feel our pain. He should be an example of what a person can do when he takes his pain and uses it to better himself and the world around him. Even after he stops feeling that pain every day.
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wereright · 7 years
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We were right?
It’s the nature of time and perspective that if you live long enough, the world begins to surprise you. Sometimes in small ways (Wait, I LIKE the taste of peppermint?) sometimes in big ways (...wait, who’s president?).
One of the stranger surprises for me has been the status of superheroes in our culture today. For around 65 years, superheroes were a kid’s thing passed from parents to children and given a sidelong look by anyone who wasn’t a geek. It got worse if you stuck with superheroes past age 12. I don’t know how many times in high school I heard “Superman?” with that tone that said “And do you still get a story at bedtime?” whenever people heard what my favorite movie was.
Compare that to today, fifteen years later, when co-workers turn to me routinely with a genuine desire for knowledge about geek things. Back then I could never have pictured a time when I would be asked so often, “But is it like that in the comics?” by people who spend more time in the gym than they do in the comic shop.
And in this brave new world, I have a son. A two and a half year old who’s currently arguing with my wife, shouting back and forth, “Hawkgirl!” and “Green Lantern!”
I’ve known for decades that superheroes would be a big part of my kids’ childhood if they took to it; I didn’t know that society would make it so easy by adopting my obsession.
I recently sent a theory in to a podcast about The Flash TV series; as part of their response, they asked if I had any work I wanted them to give a shout out. My reply was, “I don't really have an organized blog or anything, just a degree in film and a long history of thinking about superheroes too much.” Not long after typing that, I thought, “Why don’t I have an organized blog? I used to. Kind of. If you closed one eye and squinted.”
With the amount of geekdom I digest every week, it should be easy to put up one, well-thought piece each...Monday?
You can expect a lot of what I put up here will have something to do with my son. I’m sorry, he’s adorable, I can’t help talking about him. His name--as far as you’re concerned--is Kal. And I’m Jor. And my wife is Lara, because come on, you knew that already and I have a Superman tattoo on my chest, so you can deal with the metaphor. Hopefully we aren’t all living on a planet as near its end as Krypton, despite all signs to the contrary.
So far, his instruction goes well. His favorite movie is The Force Awakens, he asks to watch Superman on TV, and I’ve started him on Star Trek: The Animated Series in preparation for one day moving him over to the Original Series. We’ve just starting the Justice League series; he has surprised me with his fondness for Hawkgirl. I’m very pleased that he recognizes anyone who wears the costume as Green Lantern (even Kilowog didn’t get a second look, just “Green Lantern!”).
If you haven’t guessed by now, we’re a DC-centric family, though I love the Marvel films and what they’ve done for elevating superheroes to where they are now. And if Lara had her way, Kal would be carrying around a Captain America figure at least as often as he does his Superman.
Hopefully, if you’ve ended up here, you’ll find something to interest you. If you don’t, message me. I’m happy to think about things outside my usual tracks. When it comes to comics, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a bad character, just ones that haven’t been explored properly yet.
Except Prankster. Some things are just broken.
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