All right. Let's talk about Stephanie Brown.
I said all this many times before on messageboards, but I guess the point of a blog is that I can write a (hopefully) definitive version.
I became a fan of Steph in the first comic with her I read - Batgirl #20. The idea of a pretty blond girl who dresses like a hooded ugly gnome and hides her face because she feels the dark determination to fight crime, but isn't very competent at it (yet) - and that that girl still has soft toys in her frilly bedroom - was instantly appealing to me. Because even though Steph was a funny, optimistic character, her nightly adventures spoke of a bitter, unhappy part of her life, but one she was determined to face.
The next appearances in the Batgirl series impressed me even more. (Her role in Robin I liked less I admit, especially the "dear diary" stuff.) I had just started to read Batman comics, and I could relate very well to an outsider who hopes to become part of the Bat-family and is desperate to gain Batman's approval. It was a real inspiration to witness her developing friendship with Cassandra, and her iron resolve to improve herself by extremely hard training to be finally good enough to become Batman's sidekick. The stories seemed to promise she would manage to achieve that, and I couldn't wait for it.
Then came the issue of Gotham Knights where Batman told her coldly that she didn't have the skills and the talent and should go home. A blow that came totally out of nowhere. (Speculation is that Dan DiDio had just taken over and changed editorial plans.) I'm not exaggerating much when I say that I felt as if I had failed an exam myself. An experience not unlike having a novel rejected. ;) The bitter taste of defeat. A life's dream shattered. Being a loser. A failure.
But Steph didn't give up. And suspected with good reason that Batman had hidden motives in rejecting her. Which was proven more or less correct when he offered her to become the new Robin when Tim quit, and nonchalantly waved Alfred's surprise aside with the remark that skills can be taught and that he (suddenly) admired Steph's determination.
Well, we all know how that turned out. Batman changed his mind again and fired her a second time. Not because she would be lacking talent this time. No, because she disobeyed an order when she had to improvise alone in a life-and-death situation, and wanted to save his life instead of waiting quietly in the Bat-plane.
So, what does a failed teenage sidekick do? Well, start a desperate stolen plan to rid the city of crime once and for all of course, with a gang war that will kill hundreds! Too bad that everything goes wrong, and she is also tortured and killed herself.
So what is my opinion of the War Games event where that happened?
Of course I would have prefered if Steph had survived and would still be around today. But her tragedy might actually have been a good story. Her desperate attempt to prove herself to Batman, initiating a process that spins totally out of control and turns into a bloodbath, her heroic attempt to do what she can to still save the day...
Does sound almost like a classical greek drama if you put it like that. But sadly, there a some points to mention:
- The whole War Games event didn't impress me, not even as an uncomplicated action story. Everyone fighting everyone, each gang against all the others just is a recipe for random fight scenes without dramatic suspense, and the events added to change that (the hostage crisis at the school, the gathering in the stadium, the attack on the clocktower) were not very interesting.
- The logical flaws. Let's face the elephant in the room: Did Batman's plan include a bloody gang war, and did Steph accept that hundreds would die as a consequence? In other words, was she unscrupolous or just naive and stupid?
I refuse to believe the former, and the fact that she was shocked about the initial massacre seems to prove that. But: If Batman's plan didn't include any of that, WHY ON EARTH DID EVENTS STILL FOLLOW THE PLAN? Why was Batman able to predict that the electrical power would be cut soon, just as in his plan?
Sorry, that makes no sense at all. And that is not some minor detail, that is the very center of the whole event, and makes the whole event fail. At least in my opinion.
So Steph didn't get a satisfying end to her story. No closure. The events don't feel based on character development, but on forced editorial interference.Her death could have been a tragic yet emotionally satisfying story. But like this, I just feel cheated. I want Steph back!
The topic that keeps Steph in the headlines these days is if she should get a memorial in the Batcave, and if the fact that she doesn't proves sexist tendencies at DC.
While I of course applaud the support the character gets, I admit I feel a bit unsure if it's really a good idea to turn her into a political symbol. Sure it's important to protest against sexism in comics, but I sometimes wonder if all the protesters who demand a memorial for Steph today did give a damn for her comics when she was still around...
But whatever. When the discussion reaches this point, inevitably the question is raised if Steph did deserve a memorial or not. Here is my opinion:
People who oppose the memorial claim that Steph wasn't really part of the Bat-family, and was a failure and a screw-up anyway. Or was she?
Let's look at the facts. Batman decided to personally train her twice, and both times fired her a bit later. Why this to and fro? Shouldn't Batman be able to make up his mind?
It's not unreasonable to assume he had hidden, emotional motives. Alfred suggests that he accepts her as Robin mainly to send a message to Tim. So if she was not good enough, Batman deserves to be blamed because he built up her hopes only to crash them again. He should have realised how desperatly she wanted to belong, and how the rejection could drive her over the edge.
If she WAS good enough and he fired her without good reason, he is to blame even more. And remember, he didn't fire her because of a lack of talent the second time, but because she disobeyed an order. Something his other sidekicks surely have never ever done.
So the "failure" argument is at least questionable. Even more important is that Batman was responsible for Steph, as an adult who guarded her through highly dangerous situations, and emotionally as a surrogate father, whether he realised that or not.
Another argument against the memorial is the claim that her time as Robin was too short and irrelevant.
I can't dispute that Jason was Bruce Wayne's ward and actually a part of his family, so he surely had a closer personal connection to him. Maybe that justifies that only Jason got a memorial. But Jason's memorial is not for a son, but for a "soldier". And Steph was part of the extended Bat-family since the mid-90s, and for a few months WAS his sidekick and closest co-worker. Heck, she even saved his life in Detective #796!
But those are all in-story considerations. What about the point of view of the DC editors?
One argument I have heard is that a memorial would confuse new readers. Steph's story is over, let's move on and don't reference past continuity for no good reason.
I can respect that opinion. Similar things happen all the time. Who still remembers that James Gordon run for mayor in the 90s and his wife led the police department? Does it make sense to mention stuff like that in today's comics? I read No Man's Land and enjoyed that the consequences of the earthquake still were mentioned in the comics for years after that. But after some time that has to stop, or it will get even more difficult for new readers. Not to mention that the "illusion of change" in superhero comics that always returns to the old status quo after a while will feel even more forced when the past revolutions of the wheel remain too visible.
But would a simple glass case with an uniform in the background of the Batcave really trouble new readers? And some past events get referenced, they become defining for the character. Like the dead Jason. I never read a story with him alive, but as a dead Robin he had an enormous influence on the Batman stories, and I never felt confused by that.
Sure, only a few events can be chosen to become such central part of the myth. I actually would hesitate to use Steph in a similar way as Jason was, as one of Batman's greatest traumas. But all that is a bit besides the point. Even if the memorial would be hardly ever shown or mentioned in future stories, it would provide closure to a story that is still itching like something unfinished. It would demonstrate respect for the fans who loved Steph and bought and supported her comics, and make them feel less like victims of a cynical editorial bait-and-switch.
And I haven't even mentioned the most important argument for the memorial yet: Batman PROMISED Steph on her deathbed that she would be remembered and become part of the legend. That certainly raised expectations, and makes wonder if Batman was lying to her, or simply is too much of a jerk to honor his promise. Is that the message DC want to send? And that story is collected in a trade and will make future readers wonder the same thing.
But actually, while a memorial would be nice, it is not the reason I wanted to talk about Steph. It is that she was an awesome character. Her mixture of teenage enthusiasm and a dark past made for great stories and a unique point of view in the Bat-titles. Steph was funny, but not campy. Being a superhero was not easy for her. Her story was about the desperate wish to belong, to train and work very hard to achieve an almost impossible dream. Something we all can relate to I think - at least I can.
And I miss her very much.
Freitag, 5. Oktober 2007
Donnerstag, 13. September 2007
About Sexism in Comics
I'm new in the whole blogging business and not sure what's the correct etiquette when you have a lengthy answer to another blog - do you post it in a comment there, or in your own blog?
Since I'm egotistic I chose to do it here. ;)
I'm going to say my opinion about a blog entry here, linked from When Fangirls Attack.
Anon, A Mouse claims there that DC and Marvel have no responsibility to stop sexism in their comics because it's only comics, it's not real and doesn't hurt anyone. (I'm paraphrasing.)
I find that reasoning very strange. Sure, political correctness in the media probably won't make sexism in real life disappear, but it's reasonable to assume it might contribute to that.
And the other way around, sexism in the media is without doubt going to support and even create sexism in real life.
Sexism is a way of thinking, and to get rid of it, you have to change the way people think. I don't see how you can do that without the media, and yes, comics are a part of that. First step is to make people AWARE of the problem. And if it's NOT a self-understood requirement that the male hero has to save his girlfriend from the villain in any adventure story, that is quite an important step in my opinion.
That's not the same as some elitist assumption that people are sheep and will believe anything they hear. Who on earth would deny that people are influenced by the media? By the news selection they get presented, by the opinions they get to hear, and maybe most of all by subliminal prejudices they are fed.
Sexist comics are a form of propaganda. Propaganda for the status quo is also propaganda. And I prefer if I'm not manipulated. I prefer intelligent entertainment that somehow reflects the real world and real people.
Sure entertainment will never be totally "realistic". But that doesn't mean it has to be stupid or full of prejudice, or even less that stupid prejudice would be more entertaining - not even to the ones who benefit from it (males like me).
Personally I can't stand that in old Hollywood romantic comedies nearly always the woman first pretends to be proud and independent, but later melts and submits to the male hero: "Oh I was so silly. Just protect me and dominate me, that's what I really need to be happy."
It's just so STUPID and predictable that it makes me cringe.
Same goes for comics. I don't find witnessing oppression in progress entertaining. Sure, the original argument was that it won't affect the real world if it's only comics, and nobody gets hurt, just like the real New York will still stand after World War Hulk.
But sexism feeds you an opinion. Sure also in literature you often find that the author has opinions you don't share, but if it's good literature there is a lot of room for discussion and disagreement. Sexism however is about things you are not supposed to think and not supposed to notice. Thought control, in other words. Force-fed opinions.
And personally I don't find being force-fed very pleasant.
Since I'm egotistic I chose to do it here. ;)
I'm going to say my opinion about a blog entry here, linked from When Fangirls Attack.
Anon, A Mouse claims there that DC and Marvel have no responsibility to stop sexism in their comics because it's only comics, it's not real and doesn't hurt anyone. (I'm paraphrasing.)
I find that reasoning very strange. Sure, political correctness in the media probably won't make sexism in real life disappear, but it's reasonable to assume it might contribute to that.
And the other way around, sexism in the media is without doubt going to support and even create sexism in real life.
Sexism is a way of thinking, and to get rid of it, you have to change the way people think. I don't see how you can do that without the media, and yes, comics are a part of that. First step is to make people AWARE of the problem. And if it's NOT a self-understood requirement that the male hero has to save his girlfriend from the villain in any adventure story, that is quite an important step in my opinion.
That's not the same as some elitist assumption that people are sheep and will believe anything they hear. Who on earth would deny that people are influenced by the media? By the news selection they get presented, by the opinions they get to hear, and maybe most of all by subliminal prejudices they are fed.
Sexist comics are a form of propaganda. Propaganda for the status quo is also propaganda. And I prefer if I'm not manipulated. I prefer intelligent entertainment that somehow reflects the real world and real people.
Sure entertainment will never be totally "realistic". But that doesn't mean it has to be stupid or full of prejudice, or even less that stupid prejudice would be more entertaining - not even to the ones who benefit from it (males like me).
Personally I can't stand that in old Hollywood romantic comedies nearly always the woman first pretends to be proud and independent, but later melts and submits to the male hero: "Oh I was so silly. Just protect me and dominate me, that's what I really need to be happy."
It's just so STUPID and predictable that it makes me cringe.
Same goes for comics. I don't find witnessing oppression in progress entertaining. Sure, the original argument was that it won't affect the real world if it's only comics, and nobody gets hurt, just like the real New York will still stand after World War Hulk.
But sexism feeds you an opinion. Sure also in literature you often find that the author has opinions you don't share, but if it's good literature there is a lot of room for discussion and disagreement. Sexism however is about things you are not supposed to think and not supposed to notice. Thought control, in other words. Force-fed opinions.
And personally I don't find being force-fed very pleasant.
Mittwoch, 12. September 2007
Looking back on Seven Soldiers (Part Four)
(For the previous parts, click here, here and here.)
Zatanna
Zatanna is pretty down. So down she has to join a therapy group and explain her problems: She's addicted to spellcasting, has a low self esteem and can't do magic anymore.
Reason for this is a recent traumatic experience: With some friends she went on a metaphysical journey into other dimensions to retrieve some lost books her father wrote. But only she comes back alive, since she discovers to late that some demon called "Gwydion" is after her. One she summoned herself actually three nights before in a drunken attempt to magic the man of her dreams into her bedroom. Bad idea, as it turns out. So now her friends are dead, and Zatanna is not only feeling guilty, but Gwydion is still out there somewhere, waiting for his next strike. Let's hope the therapy group is worth the money, because that's no doubt a hell of a problem.
But Zatanna's health insurance has sent her to the right address. She is confronted by a stalker in the cute shape of teenage goth girl Misty who wants to become her apprentice. Fangirls, heh? But Misty has a convincing argument: Somehow she has aquired Zatanna's magical powers, complete with backwards-speaking and all. S'taht na reffo Annataz tonnac esufer.
With fresh determination to tackle the Gwydion situation Zatanna and Misty decide to aquire some magical weaponery from a magic shop. They're in San Francisco, so they don't have to drive far. But the demonic stalker doesn't wait till they're equipped, he attacks the shop. Our heroines manage to defeat him in a way that is not entirely clear to me, but it involves smoke and a magic mirror, a tophat, William Tell's talking crossbow bolt and some stage show misdirection. Gwydion ends up as a homunculus in a glass jar.
In issue #3 we learn that Misty is actually the stepdaughter of the Sheeda queen who, just like Snow White, was supposed to be killed by a huntsman but spared. They meet the flying horse of Justin, the Shining Knight, and ride it to the mysterious Slaughter Swamp where Zatanna is attacked by an evil sorcerer called Zor who is some sort of a nightmare version of her father. She realises she only thought she lost her powers because she lost faith in herself. And during the fight she has some otherworldly visions that help her gain both things back: She breaks the fourth wall and sees out of a typewriter seven bald guys with dark sunglasses who probably are meant to be ours truly, Mr. Grant Morrison. And she learns the missing books her father wrote were nothing else than herself, his greatest gift to the world.
So the Zatanna mini is obviously intended as a story about regaining lost self esteem. And I would say it more or less suceeds in that regard. Passing on your knowledge to an talented apprentice is not a bad way to get new insights about your mistakes and achievements and gain some maturity. And realising that the kid has a terrible secret and is something far more powerful and sad than you imagined is a suitable way to get some perspective on yourself and realise it's not all about you.
I don't think that allowing fictional characters to meet the author is a very meaningful idea. Sure, it creates the weird atmosphere of a disturbing revelation. So I guess it's suitable as a metaphor for discovering some deep hidden truth, blowing away illusion and getting to look behind the curtain. You could even say that Zatanna refuses to remain a puppet and takes her fate in her own hands. Maybe. Maybe not.
The revelation about her father's books is a bit soppy but works as well. Some sort of "the universe loves you" experience. Nothing very profound, but it gets the job done and provides an emotional climax.
But what about the story that leads up to that climax?
Issue #1 is rather strange. The therapy group at the beginning is a nice idea and continues the irreverent look on superheroes seen in the Bulleteer mini. The magical journey into the unknown does little more than reminding me that Alan Moore has done similar things much better in Promethea. And the annoying dialog demonstrates that Morrison understands a lot less about theoretical physics than he imagines.
The sudden attack of Gwydion comes out of nowhere and leaves you scratching your head if such a thing shouldn't have been foreshadowed a bit?
That has a lot to do with the problem of magic in comics in general. I admit I may be biased since I prefer magic to have well-defined rules, like in Harry Potter. Joe Quesada said in one of his Joe's Fridays interviews something about magic users being hard to relate to since they can literally pull deus ex machinas out of their top hat anytime they want. Issue #2 is a good example of that. it is rather hard to get what is going on. Is what happens right now dangerous or not? And what actually was the deal with Gwydion? All more confusing than mysterious.
So if I should summarise my opinion of the whole mini, I would say that character development is interesting, but the conflicts of the story don't support it very well.
Mister Miracle
I won't discuss Mr.Miracle. If you want you can just assume that I didn't understand it.
My Opinion
Let's move on to look at Seven Soldiers as a whole now. What glues it together are the common villains, the Sheeda.
Sure there's all that stuff about how the seven minis are connected indirectly, that Zatanna meets Justina's horse, that Klarion finds the Guardian's helmet and so on. But that is just something like a crossword puzzle for the fans. Virtuosity acts like that can be frosting on a delicious cake, but they can't replace missing story substance.
And does the story of the Sheeda have any substance?
On first glance the Sheeda seem like the cheapest, most one-dimensional villains ever created. And too much space is wasting talking about them than they could be accepted as just some backdrop for the heroes' challenge to be heroic, like Sauron in Lord of the Rings.
One interesting reveal for a short time suggests the possibilty of a more complex portrayal: That the Sheeda are from the future, they are what humanity will become at the dusk of time on a dying planet.
That obviously also means that the story includes time-travel. But time travel and the resulting paradoxons can be powerful metaphors. For example, Isaac Asimov describes in The End of Eternity an organisation of time-travelers that only exists due to a time paradoxon, which is a symbol for how forced, neurotic and unhealthy their social rules and values are.
But Morrison ignores all time-paradoxons which would result out of the Sheeda destroying past civilisations. If they would let them live, maybe the Sheeda's situation in their own time would improve? Are they digging their own grave? We never learn.
Or are the Sheeda a symbol for desperation when there seems to be no future, and how humans are inclined to give in to decadence to forget about that? So maybe we could learn something about decadence, its reasons and consequences.
The potential is there, but Morrison would have to actually USE that, by showing some Sheeda who experience emotional conflicts between their fear of the future, some remaining moral values and the sweet embrace of depravity. But he doesn't.
Do we at least get some conflict among the Sheeda, some intrigues and palace-revolutions? Some Godfather-like war among villains?
No, we get nothing.
Gloriana's step-daughter Misty was ordered to be killed long ago, and now Gloriana rules absolutely. Even the hinted conflict with her former husband goes nowhere.
Let's face it, the Sheeda are evil evil evil. Nothing more to see here.
I imagine some Morrison supporters will now claim that he probably intended them as a symbol for a negative lifestyle, that placing them at the end of time on a dying earth is also symbolic, and that we have to add the details and do the interpretation ourselves.
To that I can only reply: What the author intends and what actually ends up on the paper is not always identical. Even if I suspect some of his fans are not aware of the difference.
Here is an example of opinions like that, with additional links.
Reviews like that are desperately searching for common themes among the seven minis. Something like pointing out that all of the Soldiers have to deal with father-issues and volatileness and the benefits and dangers of change. Sure. So what? Baywatch was a story about the juxtaposition of the noble endeavour to save lives with the superficiality of bodily beauty. Just paraphrasing the story with pompous expressions won't change the content.
Let me choose a random example of a novel which not unlike Seven Soldiers lurks about halfway between entertainment and literature: Marion Zimmer Bradley's Mists of Avalon.
There we see all characters dealing with variations of a common theme: The desperate need for motherly love. The similarities allow us understand each character's struggle on a deeper level, and each story thread examines a different facet of the greater theme.
I won't claim that Mists of Avalon is great art, but it manages to provide some intelligent insights.
If Seven Soldiers was supposed to have a similar common theme, it would have to work on a much more basic level than "all characters have father issues".
For example if the Sheeda provided each Soldier with a method to gain immortality, with similar powers, temptations and prices to pay, and so each Soldier would experience a different aspect of the same conflict that made the Sheeda what they are. Then we could really speak of a deeper meaning for the whole event. But something like that is just not there.
I guess what really happened was that Morrison had ideas for a lot of minor characters, but knew those mini-series wouldn't sell without some trick. Therefore he had the idea to add the framing Sheeda plot to make us buy them all. I guess it could still have succeeded as something like an anthology, if the Sheeda plot wouldn't have been so cheap and stereotype. And if it wouldn't have eaten up so much space that it sometimes leaves no room for the (supposedly) interesting ideas he originally had.
But I don't want to end on a negative note. You probably noticed that I didn't mention yet Seven Soldiers #1, the big conclusion where all the seperate story threads merge.
Seven Soldiers #1
I have to admit that I like it. I don't really know why. It's a straightforward showdown. The bad guys get defeated without much complication or character moments. Nevertheless it has the breathless excitement of a big crisis where everything happens at once and the fate of the world hangs in balance while alarm sirens wail and every second counts as every hero is finally confronted by his own deadly nemesis.
Huge part of the appeal is J.H.Williams sensationally awesome art. He switches styles with mind-numbing virtuosity, among other things effortlessly recreating the individual look of each of the artists of the minis. But also the story works.
I think I remember Morrison said in an interview that he wanted to recreate the experience of reading your first superhero team comic as a kid where you have no idea what's going on but are awestruck nevertheless. Well, I never read superhero comics as a kid, but I think he manages that quite well here. The simple yet bombastic captions pile up sensation over sensation. Everything seems possible. Extraterrestrial gods creating the first superhero at the dawn of time! King Arthur finding their magic artefacts to conquer the earth, creating the glorious age of Camelot! Evil vampires from the future destroying our civilisation!
That's right, finally the Sheeda work. Maybe because the queen has stopped talking so much and gets her hands dirty in a bloody fight with Justina. With the pretense replaced by the naive charm of pulp monsters I can finally emotionally connect with the bad guys.
Who cares that not much actually happens? Justina fights the Sheeda queen and loses but is saved by her flying horse. Misty wants to save the day but is tricked by Klarion who plays his own careless game. I-Spyder changes sides once again and shoots the queen, who then gets finished unintentionally by Bulleteer, with some help by a spell by Zatanna. And also Frankenstein and Mr.Miracle do some stuff which I don't quite understand.
Even a goofy line like Bulleteer being the spear thrown thousands of years ago by the first superhero Aurakles finally finding its mark sounds somehow impressive in the context.
Because just like the feverish fantasy of a kid, the story fuels our imagination and makes us add the missing details ourselves. Maybe that's what it means when Zatanna breaks the fourth wall yet again and seems to directly address the reader? Or maybe not. As I said, I'm not so much into that fourth-wall-breaking stuff. Let's not get pretencious again, shall we?
Seven Soldiers #1 is an exciting escapist adventure, done in an original and innovative way. But nothing more.
Zatanna
Zatanna is pretty down. So down she has to join a therapy group and explain her problems: She's addicted to spellcasting, has a low self esteem and can't do magic anymore.
Reason for this is a recent traumatic experience: With some friends she went on a metaphysical journey into other dimensions to retrieve some lost books her father wrote. But only she comes back alive, since she discovers to late that some demon called "Gwydion" is after her. One she summoned herself actually three nights before in a drunken attempt to magic the man of her dreams into her bedroom. Bad idea, as it turns out. So now her friends are dead, and Zatanna is not only feeling guilty, but Gwydion is still out there somewhere, waiting for his next strike. Let's hope the therapy group is worth the money, because that's no doubt a hell of a problem.
But Zatanna's health insurance has sent her to the right address. She is confronted by a stalker in the cute shape of teenage goth girl Misty who wants to become her apprentice. Fangirls, heh? But Misty has a convincing argument: Somehow she has aquired Zatanna's magical powers, complete with backwards-speaking and all. S'taht na reffo Annataz tonnac esufer.
With fresh determination to tackle the Gwydion situation Zatanna and Misty decide to aquire some magical weaponery from a magic shop. They're in San Francisco, so they don't have to drive far. But the demonic stalker doesn't wait till they're equipped, he attacks the shop. Our heroines manage to defeat him in a way that is not entirely clear to me, but it involves smoke and a magic mirror, a tophat, William Tell's talking crossbow bolt and some stage show misdirection. Gwydion ends up as a homunculus in a glass jar.
In issue #3 we learn that Misty is actually the stepdaughter of the Sheeda queen who, just like Snow White, was supposed to be killed by a huntsman but spared. They meet the flying horse of Justin, the Shining Knight, and ride it to the mysterious Slaughter Swamp where Zatanna is attacked by an evil sorcerer called Zor who is some sort of a nightmare version of her father. She realises she only thought she lost her powers because she lost faith in herself. And during the fight she has some otherworldly visions that help her gain both things back: She breaks the fourth wall and sees out of a typewriter seven bald guys with dark sunglasses who probably are meant to be ours truly, Mr. Grant Morrison. And she learns the missing books her father wrote were nothing else than herself, his greatest gift to the world.
So the Zatanna mini is obviously intended as a story about regaining lost self esteem. And I would say it more or less suceeds in that regard. Passing on your knowledge to an talented apprentice is not a bad way to get new insights about your mistakes and achievements and gain some maturity. And realising that the kid has a terrible secret and is something far more powerful and sad than you imagined is a suitable way to get some perspective on yourself and realise it's not all about you.
I don't think that allowing fictional characters to meet the author is a very meaningful idea. Sure, it creates the weird atmosphere of a disturbing revelation. So I guess it's suitable as a metaphor for discovering some deep hidden truth, blowing away illusion and getting to look behind the curtain. You could even say that Zatanna refuses to remain a puppet and takes her fate in her own hands. Maybe. Maybe not.
The revelation about her father's books is a bit soppy but works as well. Some sort of "the universe loves you" experience. Nothing very profound, but it gets the job done and provides an emotional climax.
But what about the story that leads up to that climax?
Issue #1 is rather strange. The therapy group at the beginning is a nice idea and continues the irreverent look on superheroes seen in the Bulleteer mini. The magical journey into the unknown does little more than reminding me that Alan Moore has done similar things much better in Promethea. And the annoying dialog demonstrates that Morrison understands a lot less about theoretical physics than he imagines.
The sudden attack of Gwydion comes out of nowhere and leaves you scratching your head if such a thing shouldn't have been foreshadowed a bit?
That has a lot to do with the problem of magic in comics in general. I admit I may be biased since I prefer magic to have well-defined rules, like in Harry Potter. Joe Quesada said in one of his Joe's Fridays interviews something about magic users being hard to relate to since they can literally pull deus ex machinas out of their top hat anytime they want. Issue #2 is a good example of that. it is rather hard to get what is going on. Is what happens right now dangerous or not? And what actually was the deal with Gwydion? All more confusing than mysterious.
So if I should summarise my opinion of the whole mini, I would say that character development is interesting, but the conflicts of the story don't support it very well.
Mister Miracle
I won't discuss Mr.Miracle. If you want you can just assume that I didn't understand it.
My Opinion
Let's move on to look at Seven Soldiers as a whole now. What glues it together are the common villains, the Sheeda.
Sure there's all that stuff about how the seven minis are connected indirectly, that Zatanna meets Justina's horse, that Klarion finds the Guardian's helmet and so on. But that is just something like a crossword puzzle for the fans. Virtuosity acts like that can be frosting on a delicious cake, but they can't replace missing story substance.
And does the story of the Sheeda have any substance?
On first glance the Sheeda seem like the cheapest, most one-dimensional villains ever created. And too much space is wasting talking about them than they could be accepted as just some backdrop for the heroes' challenge to be heroic, like Sauron in Lord of the Rings.
One interesting reveal for a short time suggests the possibilty of a more complex portrayal: That the Sheeda are from the future, they are what humanity will become at the dusk of time on a dying planet.
That obviously also means that the story includes time-travel. But time travel and the resulting paradoxons can be powerful metaphors. For example, Isaac Asimov describes in The End of Eternity an organisation of time-travelers that only exists due to a time paradoxon, which is a symbol for how forced, neurotic and unhealthy their social rules and values are.
But Morrison ignores all time-paradoxons which would result out of the Sheeda destroying past civilisations. If they would let them live, maybe the Sheeda's situation in their own time would improve? Are they digging their own grave? We never learn.
Or are the Sheeda a symbol for desperation when there seems to be no future, and how humans are inclined to give in to decadence to forget about that? So maybe we could learn something about decadence, its reasons and consequences.
The potential is there, but Morrison would have to actually USE that, by showing some Sheeda who experience emotional conflicts between their fear of the future, some remaining moral values and the sweet embrace of depravity. But he doesn't.
Do we at least get some conflict among the Sheeda, some intrigues and palace-revolutions? Some Godfather-like war among villains?
No, we get nothing.
Gloriana's step-daughter Misty was ordered to be killed long ago, and now Gloriana rules absolutely. Even the hinted conflict with her former husband goes nowhere.
Let's face it, the Sheeda are evil evil evil. Nothing more to see here.
I imagine some Morrison supporters will now claim that he probably intended them as a symbol for a negative lifestyle, that placing them at the end of time on a dying earth is also symbolic, and that we have to add the details and do the interpretation ourselves.
To that I can only reply: What the author intends and what actually ends up on the paper is not always identical. Even if I suspect some of his fans are not aware of the difference.
Here is an example of opinions like that, with additional links.
Reviews like that are desperately searching for common themes among the seven minis. Something like pointing out that all of the Soldiers have to deal with father-issues and volatileness and the benefits and dangers of change. Sure. So what? Baywatch was a story about the juxtaposition of the noble endeavour to save lives with the superficiality of bodily beauty. Just paraphrasing the story with pompous expressions won't change the content.
Let me choose a random example of a novel which not unlike Seven Soldiers lurks about halfway between entertainment and literature: Marion Zimmer Bradley's Mists of Avalon.
There we see all characters dealing with variations of a common theme: The desperate need for motherly love. The similarities allow us understand each character's struggle on a deeper level, and each story thread examines a different facet of the greater theme.
I won't claim that Mists of Avalon is great art, but it manages to provide some intelligent insights.
If Seven Soldiers was supposed to have a similar common theme, it would have to work on a much more basic level than "all characters have father issues".
For example if the Sheeda provided each Soldier with a method to gain immortality, with similar powers, temptations and prices to pay, and so each Soldier would experience a different aspect of the same conflict that made the Sheeda what they are. Then we could really speak of a deeper meaning for the whole event. But something like that is just not there.
I guess what really happened was that Morrison had ideas for a lot of minor characters, but knew those mini-series wouldn't sell without some trick. Therefore he had the idea to add the framing Sheeda plot to make us buy them all. I guess it could still have succeeded as something like an anthology, if the Sheeda plot wouldn't have been so cheap and stereotype. And if it wouldn't have eaten up so much space that it sometimes leaves no room for the (supposedly) interesting ideas he originally had.
But I don't want to end on a negative note. You probably noticed that I didn't mention yet Seven Soldiers #1, the big conclusion where all the seperate story threads merge.
Seven Soldiers #1
I have to admit that I like it. I don't really know why. It's a straightforward showdown. The bad guys get defeated without much complication or character moments. Nevertheless it has the breathless excitement of a big crisis where everything happens at once and the fate of the world hangs in balance while alarm sirens wail and every second counts as every hero is finally confronted by his own deadly nemesis.
Huge part of the appeal is J.H.Williams sensationally awesome art. He switches styles with mind-numbing virtuosity, among other things effortlessly recreating the individual look of each of the artists of the minis. But also the story works.
I think I remember Morrison said in an interview that he wanted to recreate the experience of reading your first superhero team comic as a kid where you have no idea what's going on but are awestruck nevertheless. Well, I never read superhero comics as a kid, but I think he manages that quite well here. The simple yet bombastic captions pile up sensation over sensation. Everything seems possible. Extraterrestrial gods creating the first superhero at the dawn of time! King Arthur finding their magic artefacts to conquer the earth, creating the glorious age of Camelot! Evil vampires from the future destroying our civilisation!
That's right, finally the Sheeda work. Maybe because the queen has stopped talking so much and gets her hands dirty in a bloody fight with Justina. With the pretense replaced by the naive charm of pulp monsters I can finally emotionally connect with the bad guys.
Who cares that not much actually happens? Justina fights the Sheeda queen and loses but is saved by her flying horse. Misty wants to save the day but is tricked by Klarion who plays his own careless game. I-Spyder changes sides once again and shoots the queen, who then gets finished unintentionally by Bulleteer, with some help by a spell by Zatanna. And also Frankenstein and Mr.Miracle do some stuff which I don't quite understand.
Even a goofy line like Bulleteer being the spear thrown thousands of years ago by the first superhero Aurakles finally finding its mark sounds somehow impressive in the context.
Because just like the feverish fantasy of a kid, the story fuels our imagination and makes us add the missing details ourselves. Maybe that's what it means when Zatanna breaks the fourth wall yet again and seems to directly address the reader? Or maybe not. As I said, I'm not so much into that fourth-wall-breaking stuff. Let's not get pretencious again, shall we?
Seven Soldiers #1 is an exciting escapist adventure, done in an original and innovative way. But nothing more.
Dienstag, 11. September 2007
Looking back on Seven Soldiers (Part Three)
(For the previous parts, click here and here.)
Guardian
The Manhattan Guardian is the story of Jake Jordan, a cop who lost his job and his self-respect after accidently shooting an innocent boy. But he takes the chance when the Guardian newspaper offers the job of becoming the company's own reporter-superhero.
The series is a straightforward superhero tale, but full of fresh and exciting ideas: Subway pirates! The Newsboy Legion! And the mysterious cyberbetic owner of the Guardian, Ed Stargard.
I'm not sure if the pulp-like innocence of those colorful elements wouldn't fit better with a more lighthearted protagonist, instead of a whiny downer like Jake. And I'm not too keen on the cliche that his first mission involves saving his abducted wife. But I have to admit it works. The first two issues push all the right buttons for a mindless, breathless action adventure.
That the hero has to pay a big price at the end, since he could save his wife but not her father, is without question an ambitious addition, but again, I'm not sure if it really fits in the context.
Issue #3 is a nice little story about problems in an futuristic theme park. And then there's issue#4. At least, I am pretty sure there actually IS an issue#4. Only problem is, I don't have it. The issue was delayed, and somehow I totally missed it when it shipped.
So if Guardian #4 contains some amazing revelation that manages to turn the whole of Seven Soldiers into an amazing masterpiece, forget all I said before.
Bulleteer
Alix Harrower is a young woman who is not interested in becoming a superhero. But her husband is. Actually, he is obsessed with the idea. Fame, power, immortality, all that stuff. And since he's a mad scientist, he tries to make his dream come true, by developing a living metal skin which he tests on himself. And on his wife, against her will. Not a good idea. He dies, she gets superpowers. Guess that's what you call tragic irony.
The Bulleteer mini continues the irreverent look at superheroes begun in Seven Soldiers #0. Alix didn't want powers and isn't really sure what to do with them. But she has a good heart, so she reluctantly tries the role of a hero.
In issue #2 she cooperates with the FBI. We meet again the female agent from Shining Knight #3, Helen Helligan. We learn what traces the authorities found of the events in Seven Soldiers #0. Alix and agent Helligan (who suffers from the consequences of a Sheeda bite) question an old villain in prison who fought Greg Saunders back in the day. By means of inventive threats they manage to make him talk, and he actually has a few infos about the upcoming Sheeda invasion.
After that events take a weird turn as Alix helps agent Helligan hurry to her sisters wedding, which she doesn't want to miss - because she wants to expose the groom as a werewolf.
It's not clear if he really is or if Helligan just made that up. Nevertheless the whole thing almost makes sense with its own strange dreamlike logic. At the start of the issue Helligan is all matter-of-fact and businesslike, but as her health problems surface she more and more focuses on private things, culminating in the desperate rush to the wedding where she collapses after her dramatic allegation.
I'm not really sure what to make of this issue. It begins with a lot of exposition and turns into a strange experiment. But an experiment I approve I guess.
In issue #3 Alix visits a superhero convention, working as a bodyguard for a mermaid - excuse me, a female person of marine origin. She doesn't do her job very well - the client is killed by her son while everybody is distracted by another murder attempt: On Alix herself, by our old friend I-Spyder, the traitor from Seven Soldiers #1.
But only in issue #4 Alix finally meets her real nemesis: The eternally teenage supervillain girl Sally Sonic, who had an e-mail affair with Alix' husband.
Sally's origin is tragic and impressive. We see how she started with best intentions to become a hero but was slowly perverted, and lacked the will-power to take control of her life. Her story is easily one of the best parts of Seven Soldiers.
But her fight in the present is less well-done. It lacks a climax or a real resolution. Bulleteer simply wins at the end, without any sort of emotional breakthrough. Maybe that was the point, to demonstrate how she and Sally are more alike than she wants to admit? But Sally declared she would have embraced the chance to become a real superheroine that Alix is so hesitant to take, as well as given Alix' husband what Alix didn't want to give him. It fits that Alix refuses the subsequent summons by the ghost of Greg Saunders to join the fight against the Sheeda. Instead she wants to bring her injured enemy to a hospital. A strange but somehow appealing set of priorities. And while driving to hospital she will save the world anyway, without intending to do it.
After Klarion Bulleteer is the Seven Soldiers mini I like second best. Obviously it takes a critical look at the superhero genre and its fans. Morrison uses superheroes here as a metaphor for media stars, not unlike Bendis and Oeming did in Powers. Especially the convention in issue #3 provides lots of opportunity for parody and insight about superhero stereotypes.
But once again the stories themselves are lacking a bit in regard to dramatic structure and conflict. Maybe that was intentional, since Alix is a very reluctant, passive kind of hero who is not sure what to do with her new powers. And the issues read well enough, so I guess I shouldn't nitpick and just say that it's quite good stuff.
Guardian
The Manhattan Guardian is the story of Jake Jordan, a cop who lost his job and his self-respect after accidently shooting an innocent boy. But he takes the chance when the Guardian newspaper offers the job of becoming the company's own reporter-superhero.
The series is a straightforward superhero tale, but full of fresh and exciting ideas: Subway pirates! The Newsboy Legion! And the mysterious cyberbetic owner of the Guardian, Ed Stargard.
I'm not sure if the pulp-like innocence of those colorful elements wouldn't fit better with a more lighthearted protagonist, instead of a whiny downer like Jake. And I'm not too keen on the cliche that his first mission involves saving his abducted wife. But I have to admit it works. The first two issues push all the right buttons for a mindless, breathless action adventure.
That the hero has to pay a big price at the end, since he could save his wife but not her father, is without question an ambitious addition, but again, I'm not sure if it really fits in the context.
Issue #3 is a nice little story about problems in an futuristic theme park. And then there's issue#4. At least, I am pretty sure there actually IS an issue#4. Only problem is, I don't have it. The issue was delayed, and somehow I totally missed it when it shipped.
So if Guardian #4 contains some amazing revelation that manages to turn the whole of Seven Soldiers into an amazing masterpiece, forget all I said before.
Bulleteer
Alix Harrower is a young woman who is not interested in becoming a superhero. But her husband is. Actually, he is obsessed with the idea. Fame, power, immortality, all that stuff. And since he's a mad scientist, he tries to make his dream come true, by developing a living metal skin which he tests on himself. And on his wife, against her will. Not a good idea. He dies, she gets superpowers. Guess that's what you call tragic irony.
The Bulleteer mini continues the irreverent look at superheroes begun in Seven Soldiers #0. Alix didn't want powers and isn't really sure what to do with them. But she has a good heart, so she reluctantly tries the role of a hero.
In issue #2 she cooperates with the FBI. We meet again the female agent from Shining Knight #3, Helen Helligan. We learn what traces the authorities found of the events in Seven Soldiers #0. Alix and agent Helligan (who suffers from the consequences of a Sheeda bite) question an old villain in prison who fought Greg Saunders back in the day. By means of inventive threats they manage to make him talk, and he actually has a few infos about the upcoming Sheeda invasion.
After that events take a weird turn as Alix helps agent Helligan hurry to her sisters wedding, which she doesn't want to miss - because she wants to expose the groom as a werewolf.
It's not clear if he really is or if Helligan just made that up. Nevertheless the whole thing almost makes sense with its own strange dreamlike logic. At the start of the issue Helligan is all matter-of-fact and businesslike, but as her health problems surface she more and more focuses on private things, culminating in the desperate rush to the wedding where she collapses after her dramatic allegation.
I'm not really sure what to make of this issue. It begins with a lot of exposition and turns into a strange experiment. But an experiment I approve I guess.
In issue #3 Alix visits a superhero convention, working as a bodyguard for a mermaid - excuse me, a female person of marine origin. She doesn't do her job very well - the client is killed by her son while everybody is distracted by another murder attempt: On Alix herself, by our old friend I-Spyder, the traitor from Seven Soldiers #1.
But only in issue #4 Alix finally meets her real nemesis: The eternally teenage supervillain girl Sally Sonic, who had an e-mail affair with Alix' husband.
Sally's origin is tragic and impressive. We see how she started with best intentions to become a hero but was slowly perverted, and lacked the will-power to take control of her life. Her story is easily one of the best parts of Seven Soldiers.
But her fight in the present is less well-done. It lacks a climax or a real resolution. Bulleteer simply wins at the end, without any sort of emotional breakthrough. Maybe that was the point, to demonstrate how she and Sally are more alike than she wants to admit? But Sally declared she would have embraced the chance to become a real superheroine that Alix is so hesitant to take, as well as given Alix' husband what Alix didn't want to give him. It fits that Alix refuses the subsequent summons by the ghost of Greg Saunders to join the fight against the Sheeda. Instead she wants to bring her injured enemy to a hospital. A strange but somehow appealing set of priorities. And while driving to hospital she will save the world anyway, without intending to do it.
After Klarion Bulleteer is the Seven Soldiers mini I like second best. Obviously it takes a critical look at the superhero genre and its fans. Morrison uses superheroes here as a metaphor for media stars, not unlike Bendis and Oeming did in Powers. Especially the convention in issue #3 provides lots of opportunity for parody and insight about superhero stereotypes.
But once again the stories themselves are lacking a bit in regard to dramatic structure and conflict. Maybe that was intentional, since Alix is a very reluctant, passive kind of hero who is not sure what to do with her new powers. And the issues read well enough, so I guess I shouldn't nitpick and just say that it's quite good stuff.
Looking back on Seven Soldiers (Part Two)
(You can find the first part here)
Klarion
Since Shining Knight was the worst part of Seven Soldiers, let's move on to the best.
That would be Klarion the Witch Boy.
Klarion is a boy living in a forgotten subterranean city inhabited by Puritans who continue to live just like centuries ago in New England. Think of the Salem witch trials, and you have the right sort of idea.
Well, a few things have changed, actually. The Puritans turn their dead ancestors into zombies and make them work on the fields. They call them "Grundies", a reference to the well-known DCU villain Salomon Grundy. And instead of the Bible they read the Book of Shadows, and pray to a god called Croatoan. But you would hardly notice the difference.
Living in their city of Limbo Town is all about bigotry and intolerance. Hardly the right sort of enviroment for a rebellious boy who dreams of seeing the big world outside. So he decides to run away. Surface world or bust! Quite literally, as it turns out.
The subterranean Puritan community is simply a totally awesome idea, and would be the perfect setting for dozens of horror stories. But Morrison has only four issues, so I don't blame him for moving on quickly. Nevertheless he gets to make some observations about thought control and fanatism. Rather obvious and stereotype ones I admit, but delivered as part of a really impressive story.
In the second issue Klarion tries to find his way through the dark and dangerous tunnels, where there is no shortage of monsters and persons of evil intent. Luckily Klarion finds a trustworthy guide, another refugee from Limbo Town called Ebeneezer. Trustworthy? Not really, since Ebeneezer's actually a crook who wants to sell Klarion into slavery. But with the help of his faithful talking cat our hero can escape and reach the world above - better known as New York City.
Issue #2 delivers an exciting adventure, but also works on an emotional level as a metaphor for leaving home and venturing into the scary big world beyond. And how scary that world is! Even more when Klarion has to face the dangers of New York City in issue #3, which is by far the best issue of the whole Seven Soldiers event in my opinion.
He is welcomed by the mysterious Mr. Melmoth and talked into joining the gang of kids Melmoth accomodates in his "hostel". We learn later that Melmoth is actually the lost husband of the Sheeda queen and the founding father - literally - of Limbo Town. Now he wants to find a way back down there, and employs Klarion and the gang of little thieves to steal a drill vehicle he can use for that.
That gang of kids is the most fascinating part of the issue (and of all of Seven Soldiers). When they turn 16, they have to leave the gang and become part of the mysterious "Team Red", never to return. (In Frankenstein we learn that they in fact become slaves on Mars.) The gang leader, Billy Beezer, is proud and scared of that at the same time. So the gang has it's own secret mythology, they share a tradition no adult knows about, but their existence is also overshadowed by a dark mystery. All that is a very profound and enlightening metaphor for adolescence. The only part of Seven Soldiers I really consider to be a literary masterpiece.
What else happens in the issue? Klarion fights with Billy about becoming gang leader, but refuses the title. Instead he discovers and reveals Melmoths evil plots against the kids, but also against Limbo Town. Reluctantly he allows his cat to convince him of returning home so he can warn them.
Bad idea, as it turns out in issue #4 - the pious Puritans don't believe his blasphemic words and decide to burn him at the stake. Ironically Klarion is saved by Melmoth's arrival with the invasion force. But the Puritans are not as helpless as it seems and can repel Melmoth with dark magic. Klarion is forgiven and offered to stay, but he decides to do the hero thing and join the big fight against the Sheeda.
Summary and rating: Klarion is just awesome. Period.
Plus it has absolutely awesome art by Frazer Irving that would be worth the cover price alone.
Frankenstein
So, Frankenstein. Apparently the mini a lot of people like best.
Let's have a look, shall we?
Issue #1 quickly introduces our hero. It's Frankenstein's monster who has taken over the name of his "daddy" and keeps himself busy fighting evil.
The issue gives us the well-known horror motive of the ugly, bullied nerd taking revenge on the popular kids by means of dark magic. Buffy did it several times. But Morrison implements it
competently enough, so I won't complain.
Frankenstein shows up a bit late, the nerd has already killed almost all the kids at the prom, but at least he manages to save the only nice girl. Our hero wins a bit too fast and easy, a bit more thrills and excitement at the showdown wouldn't have hurt. But whatever.
Frankenstein rides on into the sunset, and we got a nice little horror adventure. So far, so good.
Second issue is a self-contained story again. Frankenstein is on Mars, searching for some children abducted by our old friend Mr. Melmoth we last saw in the Klarion mini.
The first pages describe this version of Mars. Unlike all the stuff about Camelot in Shining
Knight, Morrison manages to inspire my imagination here. He creates quite a nice mood of melancholic ancient ruins and mindless desert monsters, combined with Frankenstein as the Man with no Name on a lonely mission of vengeance. Quite beautiful.
Then Frankenstein confronts the villain, kills him and saves the kids.
The end. Wait, that's all?
Not quite. I suppose Morrison knows that a story like that (or any story, actually) needs
some human element with hopes and dreams and life-changing experiences.
What does he offer in that department?
a) A shocking surprise: Melmoth was actually involved in our hero's creation. "Luke, I am your father!" Or maybe it's more like that scene in Bladerunner if you prefer.
b) A boy we last saw in Klarion #3, Billy Beezer, who is some sort of mixture between slave and protege to Melmoth, decides to rebel and saves Frankenstein who was helplessly hypnotised.
c) Tragic irony: Melmoth was actually working on a plan to save humanity from the Sheeda invasion. To his own terms of course, but still, an enemy of my enemy should be my friend, right? Too bad Frankenstein isn't aware of that and kills him. Oops.
So was that enough human element for you? I would say not really, but that's anyone's own decision I guess. I'll leave it open. (Yes, I am in a benevolent mood.)
Issue #3 has our man - excuse me, our creation - visit a town where the animals have turned into killing machines and the humans gone crazy. It's a secret military experiment gone wrong, he learns from agents of the secret government agency SHADE. They need his help because only someone who isn't alive won't be affected. But he's lucky - or unlcky, depending on your point of view: He's not the only one who fits that description. He gets a companion he once knew quite well: The bride the good doctor created for him.
Bittersweet reminiscences and banter ensue. The two dish out some badass violence, solve the problem and decide that it's better to remain just friends.
Franky, as his old flame calls him, refuses the offer to join SHADE: There are some things even a monster won't lower himself to.
What to make out of this? The concept of water gaining a conscience is a little to crazy for my taste, but I hear stuff like that is what Morrison's famous for. We have some character interaction and learn a bit more about Frankenstein's personality. So the issue is okay I guess. But hardly anything special, unless 'unusual' equals 'special' in your book.
In issue #4 Frankenstein is on a mission for SHADE. Wait a minute, didn't he just refuse
their offer in issue #3? Well, yes, but apparently he changed his mind. *shrug*
He confronts the queen of the Sheeda and blows up some of her ships. How does he manage that? *shrug*
Apparently what we have here is the type of comic that doesn't bother with explaining what the hero can do and what he can't. That doesn't necessarily have to be bad, but it does mean it won't work as an adventure or thriller, where establishing some instinct what's possible and what's impossible is essential.
Since this issue is all about the framing Sheeda plot, I leave it at that and move on to my verdict about the whole mini.
Frankenstein is an interesting protagonist, no question. Cool and tough and badass. Putting him on horror cases allows a unique perspective. Just imagine him fighting monsters created by mad scientists: "I know how you feel."
But his stories are just not very interesting here. The conflicts are extremely simple and the characters rather superficial. That's just not good enough.
Klarion
Since Shining Knight was the worst part of Seven Soldiers, let's move on to the best.
That would be Klarion the Witch Boy.
Klarion is a boy living in a forgotten subterranean city inhabited by Puritans who continue to live just like centuries ago in New England. Think of the Salem witch trials, and you have the right sort of idea.
Well, a few things have changed, actually. The Puritans turn their dead ancestors into zombies and make them work on the fields. They call them "Grundies", a reference to the well-known DCU villain Salomon Grundy. And instead of the Bible they read the Book of Shadows, and pray to a god called Croatoan. But you would hardly notice the difference.
Living in their city of Limbo Town is all about bigotry and intolerance. Hardly the right sort of enviroment for a rebellious boy who dreams of seeing the big world outside. So he decides to run away. Surface world or bust! Quite literally, as it turns out.
The subterranean Puritan community is simply a totally awesome idea, and would be the perfect setting for dozens of horror stories. But Morrison has only four issues, so I don't blame him for moving on quickly. Nevertheless he gets to make some observations about thought control and fanatism. Rather obvious and stereotype ones I admit, but delivered as part of a really impressive story.
In the second issue Klarion tries to find his way through the dark and dangerous tunnels, where there is no shortage of monsters and persons of evil intent. Luckily Klarion finds a trustworthy guide, another refugee from Limbo Town called Ebeneezer. Trustworthy? Not really, since Ebeneezer's actually a crook who wants to sell Klarion into slavery. But with the help of his faithful talking cat our hero can escape and reach the world above - better known as New York City.
Issue #2 delivers an exciting adventure, but also works on an emotional level as a metaphor for leaving home and venturing into the scary big world beyond. And how scary that world is! Even more when Klarion has to face the dangers of New York City in issue #3, which is by far the best issue of the whole Seven Soldiers event in my opinion.
He is welcomed by the mysterious Mr. Melmoth and talked into joining the gang of kids Melmoth accomodates in his "hostel". We learn later that Melmoth is actually the lost husband of the Sheeda queen and the founding father - literally - of Limbo Town. Now he wants to find a way back down there, and employs Klarion and the gang of little thieves to steal a drill vehicle he can use for that.
That gang of kids is the most fascinating part of the issue (and of all of Seven Soldiers). When they turn 16, they have to leave the gang and become part of the mysterious "Team Red", never to return. (In Frankenstein we learn that they in fact become slaves on Mars.) The gang leader, Billy Beezer, is proud and scared of that at the same time. So the gang has it's own secret mythology, they share a tradition no adult knows about, but their existence is also overshadowed by a dark mystery. All that is a very profound and enlightening metaphor for adolescence. The only part of Seven Soldiers I really consider to be a literary masterpiece.
What else happens in the issue? Klarion fights with Billy about becoming gang leader, but refuses the title. Instead he discovers and reveals Melmoths evil plots against the kids, but also against Limbo Town. Reluctantly he allows his cat to convince him of returning home so he can warn them.
Bad idea, as it turns out in issue #4 - the pious Puritans don't believe his blasphemic words and decide to burn him at the stake. Ironically Klarion is saved by Melmoth's arrival with the invasion force. But the Puritans are not as helpless as it seems and can repel Melmoth with dark magic. Klarion is forgiven and offered to stay, but he decides to do the hero thing and join the big fight against the Sheeda.
Summary and rating: Klarion is just awesome. Period.
Plus it has absolutely awesome art by Frazer Irving that would be worth the cover price alone.
Frankenstein
So, Frankenstein. Apparently the mini a lot of people like best.
Let's have a look, shall we?
Issue #1 quickly introduces our hero. It's Frankenstein's monster who has taken over the name of his "daddy" and keeps himself busy fighting evil.
The issue gives us the well-known horror motive of the ugly, bullied nerd taking revenge on the popular kids by means of dark magic. Buffy did it several times. But Morrison implements it
competently enough, so I won't complain.
Frankenstein shows up a bit late, the nerd has already killed almost all the kids at the prom, but at least he manages to save the only nice girl. Our hero wins a bit too fast and easy, a bit more thrills and excitement at the showdown wouldn't have hurt. But whatever.
Frankenstein rides on into the sunset, and we got a nice little horror adventure. So far, so good.
Second issue is a self-contained story again. Frankenstein is on Mars, searching for some children abducted by our old friend Mr. Melmoth we last saw in the Klarion mini.
The first pages describe this version of Mars. Unlike all the stuff about Camelot in Shining
Knight, Morrison manages to inspire my imagination here. He creates quite a nice mood of melancholic ancient ruins and mindless desert monsters, combined with Frankenstein as the Man with no Name on a lonely mission of vengeance. Quite beautiful.
Then Frankenstein confronts the villain, kills him and saves the kids.
The end. Wait, that's all?
Not quite. I suppose Morrison knows that a story like that (or any story, actually) needs
some human element with hopes and dreams and life-changing experiences.
What does he offer in that department?
a) A shocking surprise: Melmoth was actually involved in our hero's creation. "Luke, I am your father!" Or maybe it's more like that scene in Bladerunner if you prefer.
b) A boy we last saw in Klarion #3, Billy Beezer, who is some sort of mixture between slave and protege to Melmoth, decides to rebel and saves Frankenstein who was helplessly hypnotised.
c) Tragic irony: Melmoth was actually working on a plan to save humanity from the Sheeda invasion. To his own terms of course, but still, an enemy of my enemy should be my friend, right? Too bad Frankenstein isn't aware of that and kills him. Oops.
So was that enough human element for you? I would say not really, but that's anyone's own decision I guess. I'll leave it open. (Yes, I am in a benevolent mood.)
Issue #3 has our man - excuse me, our creation - visit a town where the animals have turned into killing machines and the humans gone crazy. It's a secret military experiment gone wrong, he learns from agents of the secret government agency SHADE. They need his help because only someone who isn't alive won't be affected. But he's lucky - or unlcky, depending on your point of view: He's not the only one who fits that description. He gets a companion he once knew quite well: The bride the good doctor created for him.
Bittersweet reminiscences and banter ensue. The two dish out some badass violence, solve the problem and decide that it's better to remain just friends.
Franky, as his old flame calls him, refuses the offer to join SHADE: There are some things even a monster won't lower himself to.
What to make out of this? The concept of water gaining a conscience is a little to crazy for my taste, but I hear stuff like that is what Morrison's famous for. We have some character interaction and learn a bit more about Frankenstein's personality. So the issue is okay I guess. But hardly anything special, unless 'unusual' equals 'special' in your book.
In issue #4 Frankenstein is on a mission for SHADE. Wait a minute, didn't he just refuse
their offer in issue #3? Well, yes, but apparently he changed his mind. *shrug*
He confronts the queen of the Sheeda and blows up some of her ships. How does he manage that? *shrug*
Apparently what we have here is the type of comic that doesn't bother with explaining what the hero can do and what he can't. That doesn't necessarily have to be bad, but it does mean it won't work as an adventure or thriller, where establishing some instinct what's possible and what's impossible is essential.
Since this issue is all about the framing Sheeda plot, I leave it at that and move on to my verdict about the whole mini.
Frankenstein is an interesting protagonist, no question. Cool and tough and badass. Putting him on horror cases allows a unique perspective. Just imagine him fighting monsters created by mad scientists: "I know how you feel."
But his stories are just not very interesting here. The conflicts are extremely simple and the characters rather superficial. That's just not good enough.
Looking back on Seven Soldiers (Part One)
I just finished reading Seven Soldiers again, and decided to write a long review.
Short version: Parts of it are quite good, but as a whole it's ridiculously overrated.
In case you didn't know, Seven Soldiers is a project written by Grant Morrison that consists out of seven mini-series and two oversized issues to start and conclude the whole event, about seven heroes that fight an invasion of evil fairy monsters without actually meeting each other.
More info can be found here or here.
Seven Soldiers #0
Main character is a young woman called Shelly Gaynor who got famous writing a book about her career as a superheroine. For her superhero work is not so much about about helping people, it's about the thrill and the excitement. To experience new kinds of kicks she decides to join a team. Since she's not to choosy she lands in the makeshift group put together by aging western hero Greg Saunders with the aim to fight some mysterious giant spiders.
Shelly quickly discovers that most other members are wannabes rather than heroes. One is an obsessed fanboy who managed to aquire superpowers, another an arrogant diva-type who only cares for her image and media presence. No surprise that when the mission turns out to be a lot more dangerous than expected it looks as if the team can't deal with it. It's really impressive how Morrison shows them close to panic, experiencing something similar as a young soldier who discovers that actual war is rather different from his heroic dreams.
But in a glorious scene that makes you want to cheer they manage to pull themselves together and keep the upper hand. For a few minutes, that is - because they walk right into a trap. Game over. All are killed, except for the traitor called I-Spyder. The world will need to find other heroes if it wants to be saved...
Morrison discards the cliches of the genre for a more serious look at what it must be like to be a superhero. The characters have selfish motives for playing hero, like the wish to be a media star. And being brave in the face of danger is not as easy as in your granddad's old comics.
Similar deconstuction has been done many times of course since Watchmen. But Morrison manages to find some fresh aspects. Seven Soldiers #0 is a nice read and a promising start to the event.
Shining Knight
We didn't learn much about the nature of the big threat besides that it involves giant spiders. The first mini, Shining Knight, tells us more. In fact that is pretty much all it does. Taken as it's own story it is a huge disappointment.
Sir Justin is from the past and was one of the Knights of King Arthur. And now he is the last one, since the others were all defeated and killed by the evil Sheeda.
The knights were very noble and the Sheeda very evil. Got that? No?
Doesn't matter, it will be repeated over and over again during the four issues.
In the first issue we learn next to nothing about Justin except that he is a pure-hearted knight. But he has a flying talking horse. That's pretty cool. Should make an entertaining sidekick you think? Too bad, because Justin and his horse will be separated at the beginning of issue #2 and not meet each other again till Seven Soldiers #1.
So Justin is catapulted through time and lands in today's LA. He is confused by his new enviroment but at least manages to escape the cops. So what does he do?
An ancient knight in a modern city should make for huge story possibilities. Either comedy with humorous misunderstandings, or paranoia, or any form of culture shock. What Morrison does is having Justin wonder a bit about what strange sights helicopters and streets full of cars are, and that's all, pretty much. (To be fair, a lot about culture shock we get in Klarion#3 instead.)
He spends the majority of issue #2 wandering around the streets chased by some guilt monster that tries to talk him into feeling guilty. Huge possibility for character development, don't you think? We could learn about Justin's hopes and fears, his childhood memories, his trouble with his parents, the time he injured a friend while playing with wooden swords, the embarassing moments when he tried to smalltalk with his first crush, and how the other guys used to laugh at him when he started his time as a squire. We could. But not here. As far as Morrison is concerned, Justin has no past. He is just a noble knight, nothing else. Period.
All he feels guilty about is that he didn't manage to stop the bad guys from killing all of Arthur's knights. Sure, that's tough. But a bit abstract for defining a character. We would like to learn something human about Justin, something personal we can relate to. Or is that only me?
And shouldn't he meet somebody from our time now? Some character interaction perhaps? Well, he saves a homeless guy from some mean street gang bullies. Probably supposed to be a big character moment: Look, he doesn't quit, he doesn't hand in his sword despite all the guilt and mourning, he still fights the good fight. He still is a noble knight. We get it.
But wait, that's no ordinary homeless guy. He seems to know something about Justin and his destiny. Would be interesting to learn more about this person, right? Guess so, but not here. After a few cryptic words the person disappears (probably into the Zatanna mini if I understand the connection correctly).
Issue #3 sees Justin in prison. Apparently he decided to give himself up off-screen and warn the authorities about the invasion to come. Okay. So let's see what the authorities do. Two persons deal with the matter: A female FBI agent who is afraid to miss her sisters wedding tomorrow, and a female expert for ancient artifacts. They examine Justin's sword, Excalibur, and spent almost the whole issue talking exposition again. The knights were noble, the Sheeda are evil, in case you forgot.
Then comes the big surprise: The historian lady is actually the evil queen in disguise! Somehow, we don't know how, she has traced Justin. And now she takes him prisoner and confiscates his sword.
Oh, but before that she actually makes one interesting remark to Justin: That the police don't believe his story because in this age words have no proper shape and truth is untrustworthy. Not a particularily deep insight, but about the only interesting thought in the whole issue.
Which ends with another bang: Another knight has survived! Once-pure Galahad has been captured and corrupted by the Sheeda, and Justin has to fight him for their amusement!
That happens in issue #3. Not a very subtle idea to have the hero fight to the death against his brainwashed former master and idol. But at least we finally get some character development: We learn that it is a traumatic experience to have to fight to the death against a brainwashed former master and idol. It surely is, isn't it? We don't know what Justin exactly feels, but he looks indeed emotionally affected. So far, so good.
Then comes the really big shocker: Justin menstruates. He - gasp - is a girl! He was actually a girl all the time!
According to Ragnell that scene is an incedibly impressive metaphor for the traumas of female puberty. Hmmm. Seems easier than I thought to write incredibly impressive metaphors. Hey, I think I can do it, too!
PANEL 1
Teacher: Hey class, this new boy will be your new classmate!
New classmate: Hey all, I'm the new boy who will be your new classmate.
PANEL 2
Class: What's that? He bleeds! He is really a girl!
New classmate (cries): Yes, it's true! I'm no boy, I'm really a girl!
There you have it, I also wrote an incredibly impressive metaphor for female puberty. Please contact me by private message about the nobel prize.
So just as Galahad is about to kill Miss Justin, the Sheeda queen gets some important news out of another mini and has to leave. Everybody else leaves, too. Only Galahad remains and tries to continue the killing thing, but with some trick - it's not exactly clear how, at least to me - former defenseless Justin manages to grasp two swords and kills Galahad. Fight over.
Since conveniently all the guards have disappeared, Justin can leave unhindered.
Anybody else feels like we took the wrong turn into a Flash Gordon episode from the 30s? Probably Justin will knock out a guard and dress up in his uniform next!
Then comes a flashback to the day Camelot fell. We learn that Justin actually was no knight, he was just a schoolboy - well, SHE pretended to be a schoolboy - and she just convinced Galahad to knight her/ him before the battle because they would probably all die anyway.
Those three pages are the best of the whole mini. In fact, they are practically the only useful pages of the whole mini. Everything else could have been summarised in a two-page origin. That would have been BETTER.
Justin's past is very interesting. As is her future. Only her present is boring. What was it like pretending to be a boy all the time? Why did she do it? What made her dream of becoming a knight? And were the noble knights of Camelot actually sexist oppressors of women?
Morrison doesn't bother to tell us.
What we got instead:
Character development: Close to zero.
Random, generic swordfights: Check.
Adventure and excitement: Close to zero.
Deeper meaning: Don't make me laugh.
But what about the villains? What do we learn about them?
Are decadent - check.
Are sadistic - check.
Like orgies and sexual perversion - check.
Like to torture captured enemies - check.
Like to tease captured enemies with megalomanical monologues - check.
Twirl mustaches - damn, I knew something was missing!
Short version: Parts of it are quite good, but as a whole it's ridiculously overrated.
In case you didn't know, Seven Soldiers is a project written by Grant Morrison that consists out of seven mini-series and two oversized issues to start and conclude the whole event, about seven heroes that fight an invasion of evil fairy monsters without actually meeting each other.
More info can be found here or here.
Seven Soldiers #0
Main character is a young woman called Shelly Gaynor who got famous writing a book about her career as a superheroine. For her superhero work is not so much about about helping people, it's about the thrill and the excitement. To experience new kinds of kicks she decides to join a team. Since she's not to choosy she lands in the makeshift group put together by aging western hero Greg Saunders with the aim to fight some mysterious giant spiders.
Shelly quickly discovers that most other members are wannabes rather than heroes. One is an obsessed fanboy who managed to aquire superpowers, another an arrogant diva-type who only cares for her image and media presence. No surprise that when the mission turns out to be a lot more dangerous than expected it looks as if the team can't deal with it. It's really impressive how Morrison shows them close to panic, experiencing something similar as a young soldier who discovers that actual war is rather different from his heroic dreams.
But in a glorious scene that makes you want to cheer they manage to pull themselves together and keep the upper hand. For a few minutes, that is - because they walk right into a trap. Game over. All are killed, except for the traitor called I-Spyder. The world will need to find other heroes if it wants to be saved...
Morrison discards the cliches of the genre for a more serious look at what it must be like to be a superhero. The characters have selfish motives for playing hero, like the wish to be a media star. And being brave in the face of danger is not as easy as in your granddad's old comics.
Similar deconstuction has been done many times of course since Watchmen. But Morrison manages to find some fresh aspects. Seven Soldiers #0 is a nice read and a promising start to the event.
Shining Knight
We didn't learn much about the nature of the big threat besides that it involves giant spiders. The first mini, Shining Knight, tells us more. In fact that is pretty much all it does. Taken as it's own story it is a huge disappointment.
Sir Justin is from the past and was one of the Knights of King Arthur. And now he is the last one, since the others were all defeated and killed by the evil Sheeda.
The knights were very noble and the Sheeda very evil. Got that? No?
Doesn't matter, it will be repeated over and over again during the four issues.
In the first issue we learn next to nothing about Justin except that he is a pure-hearted knight. But he has a flying talking horse. That's pretty cool. Should make an entertaining sidekick you think? Too bad, because Justin and his horse will be separated at the beginning of issue #2 and not meet each other again till Seven Soldiers #1.
So Justin is catapulted through time and lands in today's LA. He is confused by his new enviroment but at least manages to escape the cops. So what does he do?
An ancient knight in a modern city should make for huge story possibilities. Either comedy with humorous misunderstandings, or paranoia, or any form of culture shock. What Morrison does is having Justin wonder a bit about what strange sights helicopters and streets full of cars are, and that's all, pretty much. (To be fair, a lot about culture shock we get in Klarion#3 instead.)
He spends the majority of issue #2 wandering around the streets chased by some guilt monster that tries to talk him into feeling guilty. Huge possibility for character development, don't you think? We could learn about Justin's hopes and fears, his childhood memories, his trouble with his parents, the time he injured a friend while playing with wooden swords, the embarassing moments when he tried to smalltalk with his first crush, and how the other guys used to laugh at him when he started his time as a squire. We could. But not here. As far as Morrison is concerned, Justin has no past. He is just a noble knight, nothing else. Period.
All he feels guilty about is that he didn't manage to stop the bad guys from killing all of Arthur's knights. Sure, that's tough. But a bit abstract for defining a character. We would like to learn something human about Justin, something personal we can relate to. Or is that only me?
And shouldn't he meet somebody from our time now? Some character interaction perhaps? Well, he saves a homeless guy from some mean street gang bullies. Probably supposed to be a big character moment: Look, he doesn't quit, he doesn't hand in his sword despite all the guilt and mourning, he still fights the good fight. He still is a noble knight. We get it.
But wait, that's no ordinary homeless guy. He seems to know something about Justin and his destiny. Would be interesting to learn more about this person, right? Guess so, but not here. After a few cryptic words the person disappears (probably into the Zatanna mini if I understand the connection correctly).
Issue #3 sees Justin in prison. Apparently he decided to give himself up off-screen and warn the authorities about the invasion to come. Okay. So let's see what the authorities do. Two persons deal with the matter: A female FBI agent who is afraid to miss her sisters wedding tomorrow, and a female expert for ancient artifacts. They examine Justin's sword, Excalibur, and spent almost the whole issue talking exposition again. The knights were noble, the Sheeda are evil, in case you forgot.
Then comes the big surprise: The historian lady is actually the evil queen in disguise! Somehow, we don't know how, she has traced Justin. And now she takes him prisoner and confiscates his sword.
Oh, but before that she actually makes one interesting remark to Justin: That the police don't believe his story because in this age words have no proper shape and truth is untrustworthy. Not a particularily deep insight, but about the only interesting thought in the whole issue.
Which ends with another bang: Another knight has survived! Once-pure Galahad has been captured and corrupted by the Sheeda, and Justin has to fight him for their amusement!
That happens in issue #3. Not a very subtle idea to have the hero fight to the death against his brainwashed former master and idol. But at least we finally get some character development: We learn that it is a traumatic experience to have to fight to the death against a brainwashed former master and idol. It surely is, isn't it? We don't know what Justin exactly feels, but he looks indeed emotionally affected. So far, so good.
Then comes the really big shocker: Justin menstruates. He - gasp - is a girl! He was actually a girl all the time!
According to Ragnell that scene is an incedibly impressive metaphor for the traumas of female puberty. Hmmm. Seems easier than I thought to write incredibly impressive metaphors. Hey, I think I can do it, too!
PANEL 1
Teacher: Hey class, this new boy will be your new classmate!
New classmate: Hey all, I'm the new boy who will be your new classmate.
PANEL 2
Class: What's that? He bleeds! He is really a girl!
New classmate (cries): Yes, it's true! I'm no boy, I'm really a girl!
There you have it, I also wrote an incredibly impressive metaphor for female puberty. Please contact me by private message about the nobel prize.
So just as Galahad is about to kill Miss Justin, the Sheeda queen gets some important news out of another mini and has to leave. Everybody else leaves, too. Only Galahad remains and tries to continue the killing thing, but with some trick - it's not exactly clear how, at least to me - former defenseless Justin manages to grasp two swords and kills Galahad. Fight over.
Since conveniently all the guards have disappeared, Justin can leave unhindered.
Anybody else feels like we took the wrong turn into a Flash Gordon episode from the 30s? Probably Justin will knock out a guard and dress up in his uniform next!
Then comes a flashback to the day Camelot fell. We learn that Justin actually was no knight, he was just a schoolboy - well, SHE pretended to be a schoolboy - and she just convinced Galahad to knight her/ him before the battle because they would probably all die anyway.
Those three pages are the best of the whole mini. In fact, they are practically the only useful pages of the whole mini. Everything else could have been summarised in a two-page origin. That would have been BETTER.
Justin's past is very interesting. As is her future. Only her present is boring. What was it like pretending to be a boy all the time? Why did she do it? What made her dream of becoming a knight? And were the noble knights of Camelot actually sexist oppressors of women?
Morrison doesn't bother to tell us.
What we got instead:
Character development: Close to zero.
Random, generic swordfights: Check.
Adventure and excitement: Close to zero.
Deeper meaning: Don't make me laugh.
But what about the villains? What do we learn about them?
Are decadent - check.
Are sadistic - check.
Like orgies and sexual perversion - check.
Like to torture captured enemies - check.
Like to tease captured enemies with megalomanical monologues - check.
Twirl mustaches - damn, I knew something was missing!
Mittwoch, 5. September 2007
Batgirl: An open letter to Paul Levitz
Since this is my first blog entry, I'll begin with the topic that made me start posting on the web.
I'm a Batgirl fan. Need I say more?
This open letter to the head of DC comics sums up my feelings...
Dear Mr. Levitz,
I am a big fan of the current Batgirl (Cassandra Cain) and hope that DC will use that character in a prominent role again.
Cassandra was one of the main reasons why I started to read superhero comics. The german translation of animated series by Dini and Timm turned me into a Batman fan. But even there I didn't like the Barbara Gordon Batgirl very much. Mainly because her costume seemed so silly to me, more belonging to the campy world of Adam West.
But when I noticed a new Batgirl in the german edition of the No Man's Land storyline, I was instantly fascinated. This character looked serious and mysterious, and when I learned about her tragic backstory as the mute daughter of an assassin I couldn't wait to read more about her.
I even began to buy the original American issues, which is not only much more expensive but requires a two-hour travel by train to reach the nearest comic store that sells those.
But it was worth it.
I discovered many great superhero comics by DC (and also Marvel, if I'm allowed to say that), but the Batgirl series remained my favorite.
What makes Cassandra's story so fascinating and unique?
She is a girl that was raised in total isolation to become the perfect fighter, so she knows very little about our (or any) society. Her father intended her to become a killer. But he outsmarted himself because her acquired ability to understand body language made her realize what dying meant for her first (and only) murder victim. That unique sense of what's right and wrong, together with her incredible fighting skills, made Batman select her as the new Batgirl when she encountered him, years after she had run away from her father and started to live on the streets.
Cassandra's ambitiously written adventures focussed more on psychological and ethical problems than on beating up villains. The reader witnessed how Cassandra's intense feeling of guilt for having killed that man as a child caused a neurotic lack of self esteem and a death wish. Nevertheless it was a very positive and uplifting experience to see how she battled her inner demons and finally found the courage to face life.
Cassandra's stories provided a unique, almost poetical way to look at the world because she lived as some sort of stranger in a strange land. Things we take for granted in everyday life were new and exciting for her, and she developed unusual but highly inspiring ways of learning what happiness means.
And Cassandra's story is far from over. She has grown more mature and competent, but there are still lots of story possibilities for her.
Sadly, the editors didn't seem to realize that when the Batgirl series was canceled last year, although it had a very well-received writer (Andersen Gabrych), sold better than other series like Catwoman that are still around, and would have without doubt had a substantial sales rise in the One Year Later event.
I don't want to dwell too much on what was done to Cassandra in her appearance in the Robin series after that. Only that her characterization was transformed almost into the total opposite with some strange explanation that ignored continuity, story logic and character development so blatantly that it's hard to interpret it as anything else than a calculated provocation.
That might have been even acceptable if we had known that this was part of a developing story by competent writers who respect previous character development. But instead Batgirl fans were left hanging without explanation or announcement when or if Cassandra's story (if that retconned character could be called by the same name) would continue.
Cassandra's next appearances in Supergirl and Teen Titans sent mixed and contradictory signals. As a Batgirl fan I am thankful that it seems possible now she might become a heroic character again instead of a silly villain.
However, I am very frustrated that DC hasn't bothered to send any message to Batgirl fans what Cassandra's new status quo will be, or even when we might learn that. It isn't some obscure character we are talking about here, but the title heroine of a successful series that lasted for more than 60 issues and ended only last year.
The fans that bought and supported that series are still hoping and waiting for new comics starring Cassandra. Or at least for guest-appearances that allow us to continue our emotional attachment - for the record, that means respecting past continuity and characterization.
Now I won't deny that Cassandra might seem a character with limited possibilities. And in the popular perception the name "Batgirl" is still associated with Barbara Gordon. So I wouldn't blame DC comics for wishing to create a new Batgirl that is closer to that iconic image.
Actually there would have been a perfect opportunity for that in the comics. But it was wasted:
Stephanie Brown, the teenage heroine that used the costumed identity of "The Spoiler" and was (for a short time) the fourth, female Robin, was tortured and killed in a generally ill-received storyline (Batman: War Games).
I liked her enthusiastic and funny character very much and was very sad to see her highly promising story end like that. I'm sure many readers feel the same and would like to see her return.
However, if that happens or not, at least I hope that DC has better plans for Cassandra Cain than to kill her off or turn her into a villain.
Even if a new Batgirl would be introduced Cassandra could become a supporting character in some sort of mentor role. But much more I would like to see Cassandra return as the title character of a new Batgirl ongoing, or at least mini series. I am sure I am far from the only one.
I'm a Batgirl fan. Need I say more?
This open letter to the head of DC comics sums up my feelings...
Dear Mr. Levitz,
I am a big fan of the current Batgirl (Cassandra Cain) and hope that DC will use that character in a prominent role again.
Cassandra was one of the main reasons why I started to read superhero comics. The german translation of animated series by Dini and Timm turned me into a Batman fan. But even there I didn't like the Barbara Gordon Batgirl very much. Mainly because her costume seemed so silly to me, more belonging to the campy world of Adam West.
But when I noticed a new Batgirl in the german edition of the No Man's Land storyline, I was instantly fascinated. This character looked serious and mysterious, and when I learned about her tragic backstory as the mute daughter of an assassin I couldn't wait to read more about her.
I even began to buy the original American issues, which is not only much more expensive but requires a two-hour travel by train to reach the nearest comic store that sells those.
But it was worth it.
I discovered many great superhero comics by DC (and also Marvel, if I'm allowed to say that), but the Batgirl series remained my favorite.
What makes Cassandra's story so fascinating and unique?
She is a girl that was raised in total isolation to become the perfect fighter, so she knows very little about our (or any) society. Her father intended her to become a killer. But he outsmarted himself because her acquired ability to understand body language made her realize what dying meant for her first (and only) murder victim. That unique sense of what's right and wrong, together with her incredible fighting skills, made Batman select her as the new Batgirl when she encountered him, years after she had run away from her father and started to live on the streets.
Cassandra's ambitiously written adventures focussed more on psychological and ethical problems than on beating up villains. The reader witnessed how Cassandra's intense feeling of guilt for having killed that man as a child caused a neurotic lack of self esteem and a death wish. Nevertheless it was a very positive and uplifting experience to see how she battled her inner demons and finally found the courage to face life.
Cassandra's stories provided a unique, almost poetical way to look at the world because she lived as some sort of stranger in a strange land. Things we take for granted in everyday life were new and exciting for her, and she developed unusual but highly inspiring ways of learning what happiness means.
And Cassandra's story is far from over. She has grown more mature and competent, but there are still lots of story possibilities for her.
Sadly, the editors didn't seem to realize that when the Batgirl series was canceled last year, although it had a very well-received writer (Andersen Gabrych), sold better than other series like Catwoman that are still around, and would have without doubt had a substantial sales rise in the One Year Later event.
I don't want to dwell too much on what was done to Cassandra in her appearance in the Robin series after that. Only that her characterization was transformed almost into the total opposite with some strange explanation that ignored continuity, story logic and character development so blatantly that it's hard to interpret it as anything else than a calculated provocation.
That might have been even acceptable if we had known that this was part of a developing story by competent writers who respect previous character development. But instead Batgirl fans were left hanging without explanation or announcement when or if Cassandra's story (if that retconned character could be called by the same name) would continue.
Cassandra's next appearances in Supergirl and Teen Titans sent mixed and contradictory signals. As a Batgirl fan I am thankful that it seems possible now she might become a heroic character again instead of a silly villain.
However, I am very frustrated that DC hasn't bothered to send any message to Batgirl fans what Cassandra's new status quo will be, or even when we might learn that. It isn't some obscure character we are talking about here, but the title heroine of a successful series that lasted for more than 60 issues and ended only last year.
The fans that bought and supported that series are still hoping and waiting for new comics starring Cassandra. Or at least for guest-appearances that allow us to continue our emotional attachment - for the record, that means respecting past continuity and characterization.
Now I won't deny that Cassandra might seem a character with limited possibilities. And in the popular perception the name "Batgirl" is still associated with Barbara Gordon. So I wouldn't blame DC comics for wishing to create a new Batgirl that is closer to that iconic image.
Actually there would have been a perfect opportunity for that in the comics. But it was wasted:
Stephanie Brown, the teenage heroine that used the costumed identity of "The Spoiler" and was (for a short time) the fourth, female Robin, was tortured and killed in a generally ill-received storyline (Batman: War Games).
I liked her enthusiastic and funny character very much and was very sad to see her highly promising story end like that. I'm sure many readers feel the same and would like to see her return.
However, if that happens or not, at least I hope that DC has better plans for Cassandra Cain than to kill her off or turn her into a villain.
Even if a new Batgirl would be introduced Cassandra could become a supporting character in some sort of mentor role. But much more I would like to see Cassandra return as the title character of a new Batgirl ongoing, or at least mini series. I am sure I am far from the only one.
Abonnieren
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