In response to Marvel's inclusion on a list of companies that support SOPA.
(Note: I posted this on the Marvel.com discussion boards, and it was removed three days later. I noticed last week (Jan 2012) that someone else had posted something about it that was still up.)
Dear Marvel Comics,
In 1961, with the publication of Fantastic Four #1, your company revolutionized the comic book medium. Artists like Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko defined artistic styles that continue to reverberate into the present day. In the 1970s, comics like Howard the Duck and Man-Thing offered scathing and intelligent critiques of the problems of the United States and the world. In the eighties and nineties, Claremont's X-Men took on such issues as homosexuality and South African apartheid in moving and challenging ways. In the early 2000s, your company threw off the shackles of the Comics Code Authority, and demonstrated that comics could be a mature, intelligent, and self-regulated medium.
Imagine, then, my dismay, when I saw your company listed as one that supports the proposed, draconian Stop Online Piracy Act. That a company so steeped in, and adept at, revolutionary art could support something that will destroy the most important revolution in modern human history is unthinkable to me. And all in the name of profit. People who download your comics illegally will not go to a comic store and buy them if SOPA is passed. They will simply not read comics. Your support of this act will punish both those who get your comics illegally, and those who get them legally, such as myself. The internet is not a marketing and sales tool. It is a tool of communication. Such a tool can certainly be used for sales, but that is not its sole function, nor should your company treat it as such. In the last 20 years, the world has become a smaller place, thanks to the internet. Parts of the world that had little to no contact for most of human history are now joined by communities of like-minded individuals. The internet has made it possible for us to understand just how alike we really all are. And to understand just how different as well, and how wonderful that difference is.
I understand that your parent company, Disney, is also a supporter of this act. It is my fervent hope that this is the only reason that your company is on such a deplorable list. I urge you, whomever may be the person to make such decisions, to rescind your support of SOPA. It will fundamentally alter, for the worse, one of the most important advances in human history. Rest assured that, should this act be passed, and your name remain on the list of supporters, Marvel Comics will lose my business forever. I have read your comics since I was 10 years old. I am an avid collector, and my first collected comic was Transformers #1, published by your company in 1984. However, I will have no qualms ceasing to give you business if you contribute to this destruction of the evolution of human beings.
I will be posting this letter on Facebook, and on my personal blogs, and anywhere else I think that it might impact your customers. Your support of SOPA is terrible, and, whomever this might reach in your company, you should be ashamed of your participation.
Sincerely, and with much gratitude for the amazing stories and characters you have given me over the years,
Tom Miller.
Dec 23, 2011
Jun 4, 2010
Constructing a Collection - Introduction
I've not been writing editorially on this blog for a while now, so I thought it was time to get back to it. Almost 10 years ago, I opened up a used book and comic store. It survived from October of 2001 to August of 2002, not quite a year, and was one of the best things I've ever done. I won't pretend that it was perfect. Running a business never is as far as I can tell. But for 11 months I had a comic store. Fantastic.
Anyway, 10 years later, I'm in the process of cataloguing what remains of the inventory of my store. The comics are all I have left from it, having donated or sold just about everything else. And when it came time to decide what to do with them, I just could not part with them. So, a while back, I started going through them, sorting out all the duplicates, cross-referencing with my personal collection, and entering the remaining comics into my database. I'm currently on the letter M, so halfway through, and I realized that it's a pretty great collection. As I go through it, I come across little gems that I had no idea were in there, occasional autographed comics (including a Neil Gaiman autograph, which is really cool!), some rather valuable ones. And some that are worth just about nothing, but are fantastic comics anyway.
It occurred to me that I was pretty lucky, as a comic book fan, to have access to this kind of collection. And as I've been going through it, various things about the accumulation of such a collection have been presenting themselves. Because although the vast majority of the collection came from my store, it's also partially come from 25 years of collecting comics. And you learn one or two things in that time. Over the next couple of months I'll be writing short pieces on these one or two things, both as a chronicle of my own collection, and as my suggestions for creating a collection.
Anyway, 10 years later, I'm in the process of cataloguing what remains of the inventory of my store. The comics are all I have left from it, having donated or sold just about everything else. And when it came time to decide what to do with them, I just could not part with them. So, a while back, I started going through them, sorting out all the duplicates, cross-referencing with my personal collection, and entering the remaining comics into my database. I'm currently on the letter M, so halfway through, and I realized that it's a pretty great collection. As I go through it, I come across little gems that I had no idea were in there, occasional autographed comics (including a Neil Gaiman autograph, which is really cool!), some rather valuable ones. And some that are worth just about nothing, but are fantastic comics anyway.
It occurred to me that I was pretty lucky, as a comic book fan, to have access to this kind of collection. And as I've been going through it, various things about the accumulation of such a collection have been presenting themselves. Because although the vast majority of the collection came from my store, it's also partially come from 25 years of collecting comics. And you learn one or two things in that time. Over the next couple of months I'll be writing short pieces on these one or two things, both as a chronicle of my own collection, and as my suggestions for creating a collection.
Apr 10, 2010
In the Shadow of the Bat: Batman, Batwoman, and the De-gendering of the Superhero
An essay I wrote for a class in "Theories of Gender and Sexuality." With thanks to Dr. Nadine Attewell for introducing me to the thought of Judith Butler.
To claim that there is a prejudice towards superhero comic books is perhaps to state the obvious. In the foreword to Beloved, Toni Morrison says “I don't know what comic book that notion came from” (xvi) of her thought that a “grown-up” writer made a living only by writing. The implication is that notions from comic books are simplistic or naive. Superhero comic books are doubly denigrated, not only as simplistic because of the format, but also because, for a long time, they have been written off as “just adolescent power fantasies” (McCloud 11). Surely, though, to ignore the content of a whole genre solely because of historical and cultural perceptions is to do a grave injustice to the writers, artists, and characters, that have inhabited that genre since its inception. Judith Butler says that “to conform to an historical idea of 'woman' [is] to induce the body to become a [specific kind of] cultural sign” (“Performative Acts...” 272). The term “comic book” could easily be substituted in that claim. Conforming to a historical idea of the comic book is to induce an entire body of work to become a particular kind of cultural sign, a simple one, literally and figuratively. As evidence of the genre's depth, the recent reintroduction of the character of Batwoman stands out as an instance in which the superhero comic is espousing something far more than simplistic notions and power fantasies. By comparing this new character with the venerable Batman upon whom she is modeled, a nuanced and progressive reading of gender can be seen. Consideration of this comparison through Butler's theories of performativity, and their historical antecedents in Western philosophy, demonstrate that what is going on in Batwoman's tales in Detective Comics is far from simple. Batwoman's imitation of qualities supposedly intrinsic to Batman do not show an appropriation of male qualities by a female, but serve to de-gender qualities once linked to maleness.
A very brief history of the two characters will serve well to provide a contextual basis for the comparison. Batman's history is relatively well-known. In short, Batman is “secretly Bruce Wayne, a millionaire socialite and philanthropist who, while still a young boy, vowed to dedicate his life to 'warring on all criminals' after seeing his parents murdered by a hoodlum” (Fleisher 30). While over the decades since his original appearance in 1939 there have been many revisions and addenda to this origin, the seed of it has remained the same: a young boy vows to stop crime in memory of his slain parents. Batwoman's origin is slightly more complicated. Kathy Kane first appeared in 1956, a female crime-fighter who periodically assisted Batman. She reflected the social mores of her time with her “'shoulder-bag utility-case'” (140), and, as might well be imagined, did not last long into the more forward-looking Sixties and Seventies. The last appearance of this incarnation of the character came some time in 1965 (146). Jumping ahead to the twenty-first century, an event within the fictional DC comics universe compels Batman to take a year's leave of absence from his role. Into this void step many heroes, including a new version of Batwoman, the cowled Kate Kane. As comic universes undergo periodic revisions, in the current continuity there was never a Kathy Kane, so the current Batwoman is also the first Batwoman. Such things are commonplace in fictional superhero universes. Kate Kane's origin bears some scrutiny. A child of military parents, Kate witnesses the execution of her mother and sister by terrorists while still very young. By way of compensation, a revenge/justice motif similar to Bruce Wayne's tale, Kate enters the United States Military Academy at West Point with the hopes of becoming a marine. Once ejected from that institution due to infringements on the draconian “Don't ask, don't tell” rules, Kate, with her father's help and money, straps on a black bodysuit and cowl and debuts as Batwoman. Even here, in the stories of these characters' beginnings, similarities present themselves, similarities that will help to question the gendering of qualities present in the Batman.
To facilitate a comparison of the two characters , the intrinsic qualities of Batman must be delineated. While theories of performativity maintain that there are no intrinsic qualities of gender, only performances, a character must have a particular set of qualities in order to be identified as that character. This holds especially true for characters in comic books, who are passed from writer to writer and artist to artist over the years. Batman's qualities fall within “[t]raditional definitions of masculinity...attributes such as independence, pride, resiliency, self-control, and physical strength” (Thompson 4). Examples in the literature of such qualities can be found in Morrison and Kubert's Batman #655. Page ten of the comic gives us a day in the life of Bruce Wayne/Batman, including weight training (and a super-buff bod!) to demonstrate his physical strength, independence and pride demonstrated through his dining alone and employment of a manservant, and resiliency in his ability to perform complex repair procedures on his own equipment (Morrison 10). Further, “[i]t is considered manly to take extreme physical risks and voluntarily engage in combative, hostile activities” (Thompson 7), a state of affairs that, really, sums up Batman's entire seventy year history. This brief overview places Batman squarely in the realm of the masculine. His reputation as a lone crime-fighter, using his wits and his strength to defeat evil marks him as a supposed paragon of maleness. But what happens to this paragon when it is held up against the rookie hero Batwoman?
Having been witness to a familial murder and thrown out of the Marines, Kate Kane turns to vigilantism. As with the revision of history, this is an all too common occurrence in super hero comics. What is pertinent about Kate's choice is the mirror of Bruce Wayne's choice that it reveals. Detective Comics #860, part of a 3-issue origin sequence, features the early training of Batwoman, in which she is seen to be displaying “qualities like courage, physical strength, and independence, which are traditionally associated with masculinity” (). She trains to become a martial artist, gymnast, and scientist, along with various other disciplines that will assist her in crime-fighting (Rucka 10-11). She is shown to be learning these abilities on her own, showcasing the independence with which she approaches her calling. In comparison, Batman is said to be “a superb athlete...a world-renowned acrobat and gymnast...'a deadly fighting machine'...[and] 'an ace criminologist'” (Fleisher 52-53). Each of these abilities or areas of knowledge are explicitly replicated in the origin of Batwoman. But to what end? Why create a new superhero as a carbon copy of an old one, one whose popularity has never waned and who has been a consistent best seller for over seventy years? An answer can be found in the application of performativity theory to these remarkably similar heroes.
Performativity draws on historical discourses in theater and philosophy. Any consideration of performance needs to acknowledge the roots from which performance is derived. The theater of ancient Greece is especially useful in configuring contemporary performativity theory with the Batman/Batwoman problem. Because of the size of Greek theaters, “actors wore large stylized masks representing basic character types” (Klaus, Gilbert, and Field, Jr. 12), and amongst these character types were roles of different genders. In Batman and Batwoman, performance of character and gender coalesce, and “the concrete and historically mediated acts” (Butler “Performative Acts...” 273, emphasis in original) through which Bruce Wayne's and Kate Kane's genders are constituted are replaced by the cowl that, if the stories of the two heroes are read at face value, represent basic qualities of the traditional male. Another discourse tied in to performativity is that of the purpose of not only theater, but of performance in general. Hegel's The Philosophy of Fine Art addresses this question, as have many others before and since. One of the contentions that Hegel argues against is Plato's view that all art is “an imitat[ion]...thrice removed...from the truth” (Plato 15), and therefore that is has “no true or healthy aim” (18). If Plato's view of imitation was adhered to, the performance of traditional male roles by Batwoman would be, as Hegel puts it, a “superfluous task” (Hegel 503, emphasis in original). As was asked above, why create a copy of something when the original is still viable? His answer to Plato's theory of art is that art “contains an end bound up with it” (501,emphasis in original), that rather than simply being a copy of something already in existence, art serves a purpose all its own. That purpose is one which Hegel goes on at length discussing, but for our purposes, the idea that art, and by association with drama, performance, is not simply imitation, but contains its own end, is the salient one. Drawing these two considerations together, the picture of Batwoman goes from mirror of “traditional male” Batman, to wearer of a costume that represents a basic character type, but has a purpose of its own bound up in it.
What are we to make of Kate Kane's assumption of the mantle of the Bat? Is the costume of the superhero, specifically the Batman, a gendered one? Does wearing the costume necessarily mean wearing the gender it ostensibly represents? While Batwoman's costume, through the lens of Hegel and Greek tragedy, can now be seen as an assumption of a character with a purpose bound up in that assumption, the purpose itself is somewhat unclear. At this point, the equation of Batman with “traditional male” qualities needs to be questioned. Indeed, the very notion of “traditional male” qualities itself needs to be questioned. Butler states that “if gender is instituted through acts which are internally discontinuous, then the appearance of substance is precisely that, a constructed identity, a performative accomplishment” (“Performative Acts...” 270). This statement bears close scrutiny. To begin, gender is “acts which are internally discontinuous.” Setting aside for the moment the superhero, this means that there is no inherent biological or psychological origin for acts, or behaviours, that are considered stereotypically of the male or female gender. A “body becomes its gender through a series of acts” (“Performative Acts...” 273), not through any inherent quality of its own. This is to draw the distinction between sex and gender, of course. Sex, or primary sexual characteristics, is something all living creatures are born with. One facet of gender, then, seems to be the ways in which we relate socially to other beings with both similar and different primary sexual characteristics. The particular performances of “male” that I choose to enact inform the ways in which I relate to others of both the same sex and other sexes. This performance is further complicated by the ways in which others choose to relate to same and different sexes: their genders. However, the fact remains that according to theories of performativity, gender is not inherent. It is “a constructed identity,” a series of “historical [and cultural] situation[s] rather than a natural fact” (“Performative Acts...” 271). If this can be true for gender, that it is not inherent, then it can also be true for the superhero. The act of donning a costume, to return to the example of Batman and Batwoman, does not carry with it any inherent fact of gender. The gender roles that are ascribed to Batman, the “traditional male” qualities that he is seen to embody, are simply acts that over time have come to be identified with maleness. Where Butler talks of drag, we might substitute costumed superheroism, in that it “is not the putting on of a [costume] that belongs properly to some other group, i.e....that 'masculine' belongs to 'male'” (“Imitation...” 371). Indeed, Kate Kane's assumption of these qualities through the desire to become a superhero, whether intentional on the author's part or not, seems to be denying that the qualities are male at all, but are simply attributes that any individual can achieve, regardless of sexual characteristics or gender identification. Butler argues a seemingly Platonic viewpoint when she affirms that, with reference to gay culture imitating heterosexuality, “it is always and only an imitation of an imitation, a copy of a copy, for which there is no original” (“Imitation...” 379). Her point, though, is not to say that the imitation has no purpose, as Plato does, but to recognize that there is no reason to ascribe primacy to any act, regardless of temporality. That someone with male sexual characteristics performed an act first by no means makes it a male act. The claiming of such acts as male or female serves particular power discourses within society. Kate Kane's choice to become Batwoman denies those discourses, ungendering the male qualities of the superhero and turning them into human qualities.
The creation (or re-creation) in recent years of Batwoman, and her starring role in the seminal Detective Comics, shows a de-gendering of qualities that were once thought traditionally male. When the character is viewed through the lens of the Hegelian philosophy of fine art, that her “imitation” has purpose, her performance of particular attributes supports Judith Butler's assertion that no act is inherently male or female. By portraying characteristics that have, for seventy years, been associated with the hero Batman, the writers of the Batwoman stories have wrestled such qualities as “independence, pride, resiliency, self-control, and physical strength” from the domain of the male. What they have not done, however, is tried to demonstrate that they are female qualities, but instead that they are qualities with no intrinsic gender relation. This constitutes a reclamation from the historical and cultural discourses of power of the ascribing of particular qualities to particular genders, and an acknowledgment of the meaninglessness of gender in defining the qualities an individual can achieve.
Works Cited
Butler, Judith. “Imitation and Gender Insubordination.” Women, Knowledge, and Reality. Ed. A. Garry and M. Pearsall. Routledge, 1996. 371-87. Print.
---. "Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phenomenology and Feminist Theory." Performing Feminisms: Feminist Critical Theory and Theatre. Ed. Sue-Ellen Case. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1988. 270-82. Print.
Fleisher, Michael L. The Original Encyclopedia of Comic Book Heroes volume 1: Featuring Batman. New York: DC Comics, 2007. Print.
Klaus, Carl H., Miriam Gilbert, and Bradford S. Field, Jr. “Classical Greek Theater.” Stages of Drama: Classical to Contemporary Masterpieces of the Theater. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1991. 9-12. Print.
Hegel, G.W.F. “The Philosophy of Fine Art.” Aesthetics: A Reader. Ed. D. Goldblatt and L. Brown. Prentice Hall, 1997. 501-6. Print.
McCloud, Scott. Reinventing Comics. New York: Paradox Press-DC Comics, 2000. Print.
Morrison, Grant, writer. “Batman & Son Part 1: Building a Better Batmobile.” Batman #655. Art by Andy Kubert. Colours by Dave Stewart. Letters by Nick J. Napolitano. New York: DC Comics, 2006. Print.
Morrison, Toni. Beloved. New York: Random House, 2004. Print.
Plato. “The Republic.” Contextualizing Aesthetics. Ed. H.G. Blocker and J.M. Jeffers. Cengage Learning Nelson Education, 1999. 11-21. Print.
Rucka, Greg, writer. “Go 3.” Detective Comics #860. Art by J.H. Williams III. Colours by Dave Stewart. Letters by Todd Klein. New York: DC Comics, 2010. Print.
Thompson, Cooper. “We Should Reject Traditional Masculinity.” To Be A Man: In Search of the Deep Masculine. Ed. Keith Thompson. Los Angeles: Jeremy P. Tarcher, 1991. 4-10. Print.
To claim that there is a prejudice towards superhero comic books is perhaps to state the obvious. In the foreword to Beloved, Toni Morrison says “I don't know what comic book that notion came from” (xvi) of her thought that a “grown-up” writer made a living only by writing. The implication is that notions from comic books are simplistic or naive. Superhero comic books are doubly denigrated, not only as simplistic because of the format, but also because, for a long time, they have been written off as “just adolescent power fantasies” (McCloud 11). Surely, though, to ignore the content of a whole genre solely because of historical and cultural perceptions is to do a grave injustice to the writers, artists, and characters, that have inhabited that genre since its inception. Judith Butler says that “to conform to an historical idea of 'woman' [is] to induce the body to become a [specific kind of] cultural sign” (“Performative Acts...” 272). The term “comic book” could easily be substituted in that claim. Conforming to a historical idea of the comic book is to induce an entire body of work to become a particular kind of cultural sign, a simple one, literally and figuratively. As evidence of the genre's depth, the recent reintroduction of the character of Batwoman stands out as an instance in which the superhero comic is espousing something far more than simplistic notions and power fantasies. By comparing this new character with the venerable Batman upon whom she is modeled, a nuanced and progressive reading of gender can be seen. Consideration of this comparison through Butler's theories of performativity, and their historical antecedents in Western philosophy, demonstrate that what is going on in Batwoman's tales in Detective Comics is far from simple. Batwoman's imitation of qualities supposedly intrinsic to Batman do not show an appropriation of male qualities by a female, but serve to de-gender qualities once linked to maleness.
A very brief history of the two characters will serve well to provide a contextual basis for the comparison. Batman's history is relatively well-known. In short, Batman is “secretly Bruce Wayne, a millionaire socialite and philanthropist who, while still a young boy, vowed to dedicate his life to 'warring on all criminals' after seeing his parents murdered by a hoodlum” (Fleisher 30). While over the decades since his original appearance in 1939 there have been many revisions and addenda to this origin, the seed of it has remained the same: a young boy vows to stop crime in memory of his slain parents. Batwoman's origin is slightly more complicated. Kathy Kane first appeared in 1956, a female crime-fighter who periodically assisted Batman. She reflected the social mores of her time with her “'shoulder-bag utility-case'” (140), and, as might well be imagined, did not last long into the more forward-looking Sixties and Seventies. The last appearance of this incarnation of the character came some time in 1965 (146). Jumping ahead to the twenty-first century, an event within the fictional DC comics universe compels Batman to take a year's leave of absence from his role. Into this void step many heroes, including a new version of Batwoman, the cowled Kate Kane. As comic universes undergo periodic revisions, in the current continuity there was never a Kathy Kane, so the current Batwoman is also the first Batwoman. Such things are commonplace in fictional superhero universes. Kate Kane's origin bears some scrutiny. A child of military parents, Kate witnesses the execution of her mother and sister by terrorists while still very young. By way of compensation, a revenge/justice motif similar to Bruce Wayne's tale, Kate enters the United States Military Academy at West Point with the hopes of becoming a marine. Once ejected from that institution due to infringements on the draconian “Don't ask, don't tell” rules, Kate, with her father's help and money, straps on a black bodysuit and cowl and debuts as Batwoman. Even here, in the stories of these characters' beginnings, similarities present themselves, similarities that will help to question the gendering of qualities present in the Batman.
To facilitate a comparison of the two characters , the intrinsic qualities of Batman must be delineated. While theories of performativity maintain that there are no intrinsic qualities of gender, only performances, a character must have a particular set of qualities in order to be identified as that character. This holds especially true for characters in comic books, who are passed from writer to writer and artist to artist over the years. Batman's qualities fall within “[t]raditional definitions of masculinity...attributes such as independence, pride, resiliency, self-control, and physical strength” (Thompson 4). Examples in the literature of such qualities can be found in Morrison and Kubert's Batman #655. Page ten of the comic gives us a day in the life of Bruce Wayne/Batman, including weight training (and a super-buff bod!) to demonstrate his physical strength, independence and pride demonstrated through his dining alone and employment of a manservant, and resiliency in his ability to perform complex repair procedures on his own equipment (Morrison 10). Further, “[i]t is considered manly to take extreme physical risks and voluntarily engage in combative, hostile activities” (Thompson 7), a state of affairs that, really, sums up Batman's entire seventy year history. This brief overview places Batman squarely in the realm of the masculine. His reputation as a lone crime-fighter, using his wits and his strength to defeat evil marks him as a supposed paragon of maleness. But what happens to this paragon when it is held up against the rookie hero Batwoman?
Having been witness to a familial murder and thrown out of the Marines, Kate Kane turns to vigilantism. As with the revision of history, this is an all too common occurrence in super hero comics. What is pertinent about Kate's choice is the mirror of Bruce Wayne's choice that it reveals. Detective Comics #860, part of a 3-issue origin sequence, features the early training of Batwoman, in which she is seen to be displaying “qualities like courage, physical strength, and independence, which are traditionally associated with masculinity” (). She trains to become a martial artist, gymnast, and scientist, along with various other disciplines that will assist her in crime-fighting (Rucka 10-11). She is shown to be learning these abilities on her own, showcasing the independence with which she approaches her calling. In comparison, Batman is said to be “a superb athlete...a world-renowned acrobat and gymnast...'a deadly fighting machine'...[and] 'an ace criminologist'” (Fleisher 52-53). Each of these abilities or areas of knowledge are explicitly replicated in the origin of Batwoman. But to what end? Why create a new superhero as a carbon copy of an old one, one whose popularity has never waned and who has been a consistent best seller for over seventy years? An answer can be found in the application of performativity theory to these remarkably similar heroes.
Performativity draws on historical discourses in theater and philosophy. Any consideration of performance needs to acknowledge the roots from which performance is derived. The theater of ancient Greece is especially useful in configuring contemporary performativity theory with the Batman/Batwoman problem. Because of the size of Greek theaters, “actors wore large stylized masks representing basic character types” (Klaus, Gilbert, and Field, Jr. 12), and amongst these character types were roles of different genders. In Batman and Batwoman, performance of character and gender coalesce, and “the concrete and historically mediated acts” (Butler “Performative Acts...” 273, emphasis in original) through which Bruce Wayne's and Kate Kane's genders are constituted are replaced by the cowl that, if the stories of the two heroes are read at face value, represent basic qualities of the traditional male. Another discourse tied in to performativity is that of the purpose of not only theater, but of performance in general. Hegel's The Philosophy of Fine Art addresses this question, as have many others before and since. One of the contentions that Hegel argues against is Plato's view that all art is “an imitat[ion]...thrice removed...from the truth” (Plato 15), and therefore that is has “no true or healthy aim” (18). If Plato's view of imitation was adhered to, the performance of traditional male roles by Batwoman would be, as Hegel puts it, a “superfluous task” (Hegel 503, emphasis in original). As was asked above, why create a copy of something when the original is still viable? His answer to Plato's theory of art is that art “contains an end bound up with it” (501,emphasis in original), that rather than simply being a copy of something already in existence, art serves a purpose all its own. That purpose is one which Hegel goes on at length discussing, but for our purposes, the idea that art, and by association with drama, performance, is not simply imitation, but contains its own end, is the salient one. Drawing these two considerations together, the picture of Batwoman goes from mirror of “traditional male” Batman, to wearer of a costume that represents a basic character type, but has a purpose of its own bound up in it.
What are we to make of Kate Kane's assumption of the mantle of the Bat? Is the costume of the superhero, specifically the Batman, a gendered one? Does wearing the costume necessarily mean wearing the gender it ostensibly represents? While Batwoman's costume, through the lens of Hegel and Greek tragedy, can now be seen as an assumption of a character with a purpose bound up in that assumption, the purpose itself is somewhat unclear. At this point, the equation of Batman with “traditional male” qualities needs to be questioned. Indeed, the very notion of “traditional male” qualities itself needs to be questioned. Butler states that “if gender is instituted through acts which are internally discontinuous, then the appearance of substance is precisely that, a constructed identity, a performative accomplishment” (“Performative Acts...” 270). This statement bears close scrutiny. To begin, gender is “acts which are internally discontinuous.” Setting aside for the moment the superhero, this means that there is no inherent biological or psychological origin for acts, or behaviours, that are considered stereotypically of the male or female gender. A “body becomes its gender through a series of acts” (“Performative Acts...” 273), not through any inherent quality of its own. This is to draw the distinction between sex and gender, of course. Sex, or primary sexual characteristics, is something all living creatures are born with. One facet of gender, then, seems to be the ways in which we relate socially to other beings with both similar and different primary sexual characteristics. The particular performances of “male” that I choose to enact inform the ways in which I relate to others of both the same sex and other sexes. This performance is further complicated by the ways in which others choose to relate to same and different sexes: their genders. However, the fact remains that according to theories of performativity, gender is not inherent. It is “a constructed identity,” a series of “historical [and cultural] situation[s] rather than a natural fact” (“Performative Acts...” 271). If this can be true for gender, that it is not inherent, then it can also be true for the superhero. The act of donning a costume, to return to the example of Batman and Batwoman, does not carry with it any inherent fact of gender. The gender roles that are ascribed to Batman, the “traditional male” qualities that he is seen to embody, are simply acts that over time have come to be identified with maleness. Where Butler talks of drag, we might substitute costumed superheroism, in that it “is not the putting on of a [costume] that belongs properly to some other group, i.e....that 'masculine' belongs to 'male'” (“Imitation...” 371). Indeed, Kate Kane's assumption of these qualities through the desire to become a superhero, whether intentional on the author's part or not, seems to be denying that the qualities are male at all, but are simply attributes that any individual can achieve, regardless of sexual characteristics or gender identification. Butler argues a seemingly Platonic viewpoint when she affirms that, with reference to gay culture imitating heterosexuality, “it is always and only an imitation of an imitation, a copy of a copy, for which there is no original” (“Imitation...” 379). Her point, though, is not to say that the imitation has no purpose, as Plato does, but to recognize that there is no reason to ascribe primacy to any act, regardless of temporality. That someone with male sexual characteristics performed an act first by no means makes it a male act. The claiming of such acts as male or female serves particular power discourses within society. Kate Kane's choice to become Batwoman denies those discourses, ungendering the male qualities of the superhero and turning them into human qualities.
The creation (or re-creation) in recent years of Batwoman, and her starring role in the seminal Detective Comics, shows a de-gendering of qualities that were once thought traditionally male. When the character is viewed through the lens of the Hegelian philosophy of fine art, that her “imitation” has purpose, her performance of particular attributes supports Judith Butler's assertion that no act is inherently male or female. By portraying characteristics that have, for seventy years, been associated with the hero Batman, the writers of the Batwoman stories have wrestled such qualities as “independence, pride, resiliency, self-control, and physical strength” from the domain of the male. What they have not done, however, is tried to demonstrate that they are female qualities, but instead that they are qualities with no intrinsic gender relation. This constitutes a reclamation from the historical and cultural discourses of power of the ascribing of particular qualities to particular genders, and an acknowledgment of the meaninglessness of gender in defining the qualities an individual can achieve.
Works Cited
Butler, Judith. “Imitation and Gender Insubordination.” Women, Knowledge, and Reality. Ed. A. Garry and M. Pearsall. Routledge, 1996. 371-87. Print.
---. "Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phenomenology and Feminist Theory." Performing Feminisms: Feminist Critical Theory and Theatre. Ed. Sue-Ellen Case. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1988. 270-82. Print.
Fleisher, Michael L. The Original Encyclopedia of Comic Book Heroes volume 1: Featuring Batman. New York: DC Comics, 2007. Print.
Klaus, Carl H., Miriam Gilbert, and Bradford S. Field, Jr. “Classical Greek Theater.” Stages of Drama: Classical to Contemporary Masterpieces of the Theater. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1991. 9-12. Print.
Hegel, G.W.F. “The Philosophy of Fine Art.” Aesthetics: A Reader. Ed. D. Goldblatt and L. Brown. Prentice Hall, 1997. 501-6. Print.
McCloud, Scott. Reinventing Comics. New York: Paradox Press-DC Comics, 2000. Print.
Morrison, Grant, writer. “Batman & Son Part 1: Building a Better Batmobile.” Batman #655. Art by Andy Kubert. Colours by Dave Stewart. Letters by Nick J. Napolitano. New York: DC Comics, 2006. Print.
Morrison, Toni. Beloved. New York: Random House, 2004. Print.
Plato. “The Republic.” Contextualizing Aesthetics. Ed. H.G. Blocker and J.M. Jeffers. Cengage Learning Nelson Education, 1999. 11-21. Print.
Rucka, Greg, writer. “Go 3.” Detective Comics #860. Art by J.H. Williams III. Colours by Dave Stewart. Letters by Todd Klein. New York: DC Comics, 2010. Print.
Thompson, Cooper. “We Should Reject Traditional Masculinity.” To Be A Man: In Search of the Deep Masculine. Ed. Keith Thompson. Los Angeles: Jeremy P. Tarcher, 1991. 4-10. Print.
Nov 29, 2009
Deconstructing Charley
A short paper written for my first-year Anthropology class. The assignment was to find a picture of an early hominid and do a critical evaluation of it based on what we learned this term.
Deconstructing Charley: Early Hominid Identity in "Tom the Dancing Bug"
Ruben Bolling's bizarre surrealist comic strip, “Tom the Dancing Bug,” presents readers with thought-provoking and mind-bending diversions into strange realities. One of these diversions is a series of strips featuring Charley the Australopithecine (see Appendix figure 1 and 2). These comics chronicle the adventures of an early hominid in a world of modern humans. While Bolling does identify Charley as an australopithecine, he does not specify which particular species. The reason for this is likely that Bolling does not feel that his readers need such specific information to appreciate the humour and satire of the strip. The aim of this paper, then, is twofold: first, by examining certain traits in the illustration (Fig. 1), to identify Charley's species, and second, to determine whether or not the depiction is an accurate one.
When attempting to identify Charley's species, there are ample physical characteristics in the illustration from which to draw evidence. The first indicator of Charley's status as an australopithecine is his upright posture and bipedalism. Without this, no argument for his species, or his identity as a hominid, could be made. Because he is bipedal, Charley is a candidate for analysis as an early hominid. Charley exhibits copious body hair, a large brow ridge, and pronounced upper canines. His legs are short, his arms are long, and the big toes do not appear to be quite as divergent as on an ape. Charley grasps in his hands a knife and a glass, ostensibly a humorous depiction, but demonstrating that he is capable of holding, and using, tools. Overall, his morphology appears gracile. Since this is a satirical illustration, the problem of which characteristics to lend credence to, as will be discussed in the next section of this paper, is troubling. From Charley's build, such species as A. aethiopicus and A. robustus can be ruled out. He does not appear to exhibit the “increas[ed] cranial and dental robusticity” (Larsen, 2008, p.297) associated with the later species of australopithecus, and the pronounced sagittal crest of these types is nowhere apparent in the picture. The body hair can also be discounted as an indicator of species, as there is no evidence in the fossil record to indicate the amount of hair that would have covered an australopithecine's body. The short legs in the picture could point towards A. afarensis. As is common in this genus, “the upper part of the...face is small, while the lower part is large and protruding” (Lewin, 2004, p.132). So which characteristics are the key to Charley's identity? Ironically, it is probably the most humorous aspect of the picture (leaving aside for the moment the fact that Charley is wearing clothes!) that reveals Charley's species: he is holding tools. Of all the varieties of autralopithecines, only A. garhi has been associated with tool use. “[A]ntelope bones that showed signs of having been cut and broken with sharp stone implements” (Lewin, 2004, p.138) were discovered along with the fossils of this species. While the tools Charley holds may be modern, the fact that they are tools shows his species to be A. garhi. But is he an effective depiction of this early tool-using hominid?
One of the clearest illustrations of Bolling's depiction being inaccurate is that Charley is wearing clothes. While over the course of millions of years fabrics would have deteriorated, there is no evidence that any of the australopithecines wore clothes. Manufacturing clothing requires a very specific and complex skill set, and the A. garhi, with their 450 cc. brains (Larson, 2008, p.294), would likely not have had this ability. Following on from this, it appears in the picture that Charley's head is the same size as those of the other patrons in the restaurant. Considering the difference in brain size between A. garhi and modern Homo sapiens, Charley's head should be somewhat smaller. Another troubling part of the depiction, at least at first glance, is that Charley is speaking. While the formation of English words is patently ridiculous, “Ralph Holloway... argues that language capacity began to develop...among australopithecine species” (Lewin, 2004, p.222). Charley may not have asked for his “Bucka-Roaster” (Bolling, 2004, p.11), but there exists a possibility that he may have had some linguistic capacity. As Charley is opening his mouth to call for the waitress, his upper teeth are visible and yet another mistake in the depiction of A. garhi is revealed. The large canines in his mouth call more to mind apes and monkeys, rather than the “small canines, large premolars, and large molars” (Larsen, 2008, p.286) of early hominids. His dentition is clearly meant to make him seem menacing, but it detracts from the accuracy of the picture.
The only positive indicator of his species is that Charley is holding tools. The grip he places on the glass and knife in the picture show “the finer precision use of the thumb and other fingers [necessary] for tool production and tool use” (Larsen, 2008, p.296). The illustration of Charley also shows that “beneath the nose the face [has] a primitive projection” (Larsen, 2008, p.294), however this is a characteristic not only of A. garhi, but of all australopithecines, and as such cannot be included as clear indication of species.
While there is little in the illustration that links Charley to A. garhi, his tool use is really all that is needed. Bolling appears to have drawn attributes from the australopithecines as a whole, meshing their characteristics together to depict an individual who can perhaps be seen as representative of the entire genus. Once again, his reason for doing this, rather than picking one particular species, probably relies on his audience needing only superficial details to appreciate the humour of the comic. Bolling does appear to have treated the subject fairly, if satirically. While perhaps exhibiting a more modern intelligence than his real life counterparts, Charley does act very much as an early, tool-using hominid might. Especially if one found itself the winner of a free dinner at “Bucka-Roosters.”
Appendix: Charley the Australopithecine
Fig. 1
Fig 2.
Works Cited
Bolling, Ruben. (2004) Thrilling Tom the Dancing Bug Stories. Kansas City: Andrews McMeel.
Larsen, Clark Spenser. (2008) Our Origins. New York: W.W. Norton & Co.
Lewin, Roger. (2004) Human Evolution: An Illustrated Introduction. Blackwell Publishing Ltd. Available from http://www.mcmu.eblib.com.libaccess.lib.mcmaster.ca/EBLWeb/patron/
Deconstructing Charley: Early Hominid Identity in "Tom the Dancing Bug"
Ruben Bolling's bizarre surrealist comic strip, “Tom the Dancing Bug,” presents readers with thought-provoking and mind-bending diversions into strange realities. One of these diversions is a series of strips featuring Charley the Australopithecine (see Appendix figure 1 and 2). These comics chronicle the adventures of an early hominid in a world of modern humans. While Bolling does identify Charley as an australopithecine, he does not specify which particular species. The reason for this is likely that Bolling does not feel that his readers need such specific information to appreciate the humour and satire of the strip. The aim of this paper, then, is twofold: first, by examining certain traits in the illustration (Fig. 1), to identify Charley's species, and second, to determine whether or not the depiction is an accurate one.
When attempting to identify Charley's species, there are ample physical characteristics in the illustration from which to draw evidence. The first indicator of Charley's status as an australopithecine is his upright posture and bipedalism. Without this, no argument for his species, or his identity as a hominid, could be made. Because he is bipedal, Charley is a candidate for analysis as an early hominid. Charley exhibits copious body hair, a large brow ridge, and pronounced upper canines. His legs are short, his arms are long, and the big toes do not appear to be quite as divergent as on an ape. Charley grasps in his hands a knife and a glass, ostensibly a humorous depiction, but demonstrating that he is capable of holding, and using, tools. Overall, his morphology appears gracile. Since this is a satirical illustration, the problem of which characteristics to lend credence to, as will be discussed in the next section of this paper, is troubling. From Charley's build, such species as A. aethiopicus and A. robustus can be ruled out. He does not appear to exhibit the “increas[ed] cranial and dental robusticity” (Larsen, 2008, p.297) associated with the later species of australopithecus, and the pronounced sagittal crest of these types is nowhere apparent in the picture. The body hair can also be discounted as an indicator of species, as there is no evidence in the fossil record to indicate the amount of hair that would have covered an australopithecine's body. The short legs in the picture could point towards A. afarensis. As is common in this genus, “the upper part of the...face is small, while the lower part is large and protruding” (Lewin, 2004, p.132). So which characteristics are the key to Charley's identity? Ironically, it is probably the most humorous aspect of the picture (leaving aside for the moment the fact that Charley is wearing clothes!) that reveals Charley's species: he is holding tools. Of all the varieties of autralopithecines, only A. garhi has been associated with tool use. “[A]ntelope bones that showed signs of having been cut and broken with sharp stone implements” (Lewin, 2004, p.138) were discovered along with the fossils of this species. While the tools Charley holds may be modern, the fact that they are tools shows his species to be A. garhi. But is he an effective depiction of this early tool-using hominid?
One of the clearest illustrations of Bolling's depiction being inaccurate is that Charley is wearing clothes. While over the course of millions of years fabrics would have deteriorated, there is no evidence that any of the australopithecines wore clothes. Manufacturing clothing requires a very specific and complex skill set, and the A. garhi, with their 450 cc. brains (Larson, 2008, p.294), would likely not have had this ability. Following on from this, it appears in the picture that Charley's head is the same size as those of the other patrons in the restaurant. Considering the difference in brain size between A. garhi and modern Homo sapiens, Charley's head should be somewhat smaller. Another troubling part of the depiction, at least at first glance, is that Charley is speaking. While the formation of English words is patently ridiculous, “Ralph Holloway... argues that language capacity began to develop...among australopithecine species” (Lewin, 2004, p.222). Charley may not have asked for his “Bucka-Roaster” (Bolling, 2004, p.11), but there exists a possibility that he may have had some linguistic capacity. As Charley is opening his mouth to call for the waitress, his upper teeth are visible and yet another mistake in the depiction of A. garhi is revealed. The large canines in his mouth call more to mind apes and monkeys, rather than the “small canines, large premolars, and large molars” (Larsen, 2008, p.286) of early hominids. His dentition is clearly meant to make him seem menacing, but it detracts from the accuracy of the picture.
The only positive indicator of his species is that Charley is holding tools. The grip he places on the glass and knife in the picture show “the finer precision use of the thumb and other fingers [necessary] for tool production and tool use” (Larsen, 2008, p.296). The illustration of Charley also shows that “beneath the nose the face [has] a primitive projection” (Larsen, 2008, p.294), however this is a characteristic not only of A. garhi, but of all australopithecines, and as such cannot be included as clear indication of species.
While there is little in the illustration that links Charley to A. garhi, his tool use is really all that is needed. Bolling appears to have drawn attributes from the australopithecines as a whole, meshing their characteristics together to depict an individual who can perhaps be seen as representative of the entire genus. Once again, his reason for doing this, rather than picking one particular species, probably relies on his audience needing only superficial details to appreciate the humour of the comic. Bolling does appear to have treated the subject fairly, if satirically. While perhaps exhibiting a more modern intelligence than his real life counterparts, Charley does act very much as an early, tool-using hominid might. Especially if one found itself the winner of a free dinner at “Bucka-Roosters.”
Appendix: Charley the Australopithecine
Fig. 1 
Fig 2. Works Cited
Bolling, Ruben. (2004) Thrilling Tom the Dancing Bug Stories. Kansas City: Andrews McMeel.
Larsen, Clark Spenser. (2008) Our Origins. New York: W.W. Norton & Co.
Lewin, Roger. (2004) Human Evolution: An Illustrated Introduction. Blackwell Publishing Ltd. Available from http://www.mcmu.eblib.com.libaccess.lib.mcmaster.ca/EBLWeb/patron/
Nov 24, 2009
Crisis on Earth H: Superheroes, Fruit Pies, and Iterations of Myth
A short paper written for my Contemporary Popular Culture course. With thanks to Dr. Julian Holland for making this abstract topic seem....well....not necessarily clear, but a little less abstract, perhaps. Ahhh, cultural studies ;D.
Crisis on Earth-H: Superheroes, Fruit Pies, and Iterations of Myth
In the mid- to late seventies, a parallel world, affectionately dubbed “Earth-H” or "Earth-Hostess" by comic fans, appeared in the form of one-page advertisements in many popular comics (see examples in Appendix). Each ad reads like a comic story, but instead of defeating the villain through ingenuity or super-powers, the hero is victorious by judicious application of Hostess products, be it fruit pies or Twinkies. Analysis of the Earth-H texts shows that the contemporary way of engaging with our myths involves the need for repeated tellings in different forms and for tangible evidence of those myths.
The adoption of the comic book format to sell these products is a form of commodification, though one with some interesting attributes. The comic book itself was commodified in its early years, the first actual magazine format comics being "free" with the weekend newspaper. Once it was realized that children were willing to pay for their comics, publishers birthed the modern periodical medium. If commodification is indeed "[r]endering any artifact, action, object, or idea into something that can be bought"(O'Brien 354), the Hostess ads would seem to have commodified a commodity. Or rather, they have commodified the art that constitutes the commodity. However, rather than assuming "that through commodification things lose their implicit value" (354), the comic community has embraced the "Earth-Hostess" comics as a valid, if somewhat ridiculous, part of the accepted comic book lore. While the use of sequential art to sell snack foods is commodification, the very fantastical nature of the medium, this concept of parallel worlds where anything can happen, envelopes and legitimates all uses of comic book concepts.
The Hostess ads illustrate a somewhat less-positive aspect of popular culture, the inclination to standardization. A look at the two examples in the appendix reveals a striking number of similarities. In figure 1, "The Spider-Man and the Fly!", Spider-Man has been captured by a villain, just awakening in chains. Figure 2 shows Daredevil swinging through the city, musing on "all these problems [that] are the work of one man"(“Daredevil”). The stories begin in media res, as if the ad is a continuation of some longer story, functioning to insert the ads into the ongoing narrative of the characters. This enables, as will be discussed later, the use of the characters mythological resonances to lend credence to the advertisement. Further into the "story," each character seems to gain the upper hand, only to have their respective advantages stolen away at the last moment. In a standard comic book story, this might be the moment when something fundamental goes wrong with the villain's plan, or when the hero calls on previously unknown reserves to triumph. Following this seeming defeat, of course, is the denouement of the piece, the defeat of the villain by the use of Hostess brand desserts. These tropes are standard throughout the Hostess snack ads; all that is really changed from ad to ad is the super-hero and super-villain involved. While the artwork for each piece is unique, the stories are standardized, giving the parallel world of "Earth -Hostess" a predictable series of stories.
The super-hero is, it may be argued, a modern Western interpretation of such figures as the Native American trickster gods, or the Greek demi-god heroes, or even, in the case of someone like Superman, the messianic figures of Christian mythology. While the advertisements do use standard comic book devices to lure in unwary readers, it is not solely the use of the comic book format that makes the ads effective. One must also consider the content of the narratives, most especially their use of super-heroes. A super-hero is an embodiment of certain values and assumptions. Each one stands for different things, though most share the betterment of humankind as a core value. While the surface of a character like Spider-Man portrays his wise-cracking personality and fantastic powers, he also represents ideas, or ideals, that the Hostess ads rely upon for veracity. Spider-Man, is the hero who tries to do good, regardless of the hardships he must suffer, or the lack of accolades that come his way. He is in many ways the martyr archetype, the Christ-like figure of suffering for the good of the many. Myths come about "in response to a great many different social and psychological needs"(Grant vii). Spider-Man has long be thought of as the everyman with a heart of gold, the tragic hero who knows that "[w]ith great power there must also come -- great responsibility" (Lee 11), and it is these ideas that his depictions in any form carry with them. Thus, it can be argued that while defeating the dastardly Fly with Hostess Twinkies, Spider-Man is demonstrating this responsibility, and that someone who wants to emulate Spider-Man's noble qualities must necessarily use Twinkies as a means to his or her ends, too. Patently ridiculous, perhaps, but definitely what the company paying for the advertising is counting on.
These three meditations on aspects of the Hostess snack ads point to some interesting facets of contemporary culture. While many decry commodification as a denigration of "authentic cultural forms" (O'Brien 354), there is, in our consumer-driven society, a desire to somehow be attached to the heroes we revere. In this case, it involves eating the same snack foods that Daredevil and his enemies just cannot resist, but it could as easily be a pair of costume glasses that look just like Harry Potter's. Commodification helps us to make concrete links with our ephemeral mythologies. These links then, these concrete proofs of our heroes, become representative of the ideals that lie behind those heroes. In our contemporary setting, we like to be able to hold onto our myths. For this reason, it seems, many of our myths are interchangeable. The stories that are told of modern morals have standard pieces that parallel one another. While this is apparent in the two examples of the Hostess ads, one can apply these tropes to any popular cultural myth, and to any advertising that co-opts these myths.
In “The Production and Reproduction of Legitimate Language,” Pierre Bourdieu draws the distinction between “competence adequate to produce sentences that are understood...[and ones] that are listened to” (55). Successful advertisers are adept at gaining this mythological linguistic capital. Could Hostess have anticipated the envelopment of the world of their ads into the canon of comic book lore? It seems unlikely, but the Hostess ads demonstrate a company that not only understands the technical language of the comic book, but the mythological language that underlies it. While the argument can be made that these pieces are simply iterations of the course of myth through society, when myth is being commodified and standardized by a company trying to turn a profit, caution and criticism must be exercised in the stories we consume.
The examples of the Hostess snack comic book ads demonstrate a shift in the relationship the modern consumer has with myth. No longer is it acceptable to simply hear a story - we must now hold it in our hands. However, the standardization of these myths is not solely the realm of advertising. The sitcom always has a moment when the hero is at a low point, only to be rescued by some freak circumstance. The same goes for the crime drama. Many cherished cultural heroes share the same values of loyalty, selflessness, and wit. This interchangeability perhaps suggests that there really is only one myth, and we tell it over and over with different versions of the same pieces, and hold onto it with different versions of the same concrete proofs.
Appendix: Adventures from Earth-H!
Fig. 1 “The Spider-Man and the Fly.” from Omega the Unknown #5 (Marvel Comics, 1976).
Fig. 2. “McBrain's Brain Drain” from The Avengers #177 (Marvel Comics, 1978).
Works Cited
Note: The citations for individual comic books are based on an article online found at http://www.comicsresearch.org/CAC/cite.html. It is a work in progress, as there is no official MLA guide for citing comic books.
Bourdieu, Pierre. Language and Symbolic Power. Harvard University Press, 1995.
“Daredevil in McBrain's Brain Drain.” The Avengers #177 (November 1978), Marvel Comics.
Grant, Michael and John Hazel. “Introduction.” Who's Who in Classical Mythology. London: Routledge, 1999. vii – x.
Lee, Stan (w), and Steve Ditko (p). “Spider-Man!” The 100 Greatest Marvels of All Time (December 2001), Marvel Comics.
O'Brien, Susie and Imre Szeman. Popular Culture: A User's Guide. Toronto: Nelson Education Ltd., 2010.
“Spider-Man! in The Spider-Man and the Fly!” Omega the Unknown #5 (November 1976), Marvel Comics.
Crisis on Earth-H: Superheroes, Fruit Pies, and Iterations of Myth
In the mid- to late seventies, a parallel world, affectionately dubbed “Earth-H” or "Earth-Hostess" by comic fans, appeared in the form of one-page advertisements in many popular comics (see examples in Appendix). Each ad reads like a comic story, but instead of defeating the villain through ingenuity or super-powers, the hero is victorious by judicious application of Hostess products, be it fruit pies or Twinkies. Analysis of the Earth-H texts shows that the contemporary way of engaging with our myths involves the need for repeated tellings in different forms and for tangible evidence of those myths.
The adoption of the comic book format to sell these products is a form of commodification, though one with some interesting attributes. The comic book itself was commodified in its early years, the first actual magazine format comics being "free" with the weekend newspaper. Once it was realized that children were willing to pay for their comics, publishers birthed the modern periodical medium. If commodification is indeed "[r]endering any artifact, action, object, or idea into something that can be bought"(O'Brien 354), the Hostess ads would seem to have commodified a commodity. Or rather, they have commodified the art that constitutes the commodity. However, rather than assuming "that through commodification things lose their implicit value" (354), the comic community has embraced the "Earth-Hostess" comics as a valid, if somewhat ridiculous, part of the accepted comic book lore. While the use of sequential art to sell snack foods is commodification, the very fantastical nature of the medium, this concept of parallel worlds where anything can happen, envelopes and legitimates all uses of comic book concepts.
The Hostess ads illustrate a somewhat less-positive aspect of popular culture, the inclination to standardization. A look at the two examples in the appendix reveals a striking number of similarities. In figure 1, "The Spider-Man and the Fly!", Spider-Man has been captured by a villain, just awakening in chains. Figure 2 shows Daredevil swinging through the city, musing on "all these problems [that] are the work of one man"(“Daredevil”). The stories begin in media res, as if the ad is a continuation of some longer story, functioning to insert the ads into the ongoing narrative of the characters. This enables, as will be discussed later, the use of the characters mythological resonances to lend credence to the advertisement. Further into the "story," each character seems to gain the upper hand, only to have their respective advantages stolen away at the last moment. In a standard comic book story, this might be the moment when something fundamental goes wrong with the villain's plan, or when the hero calls on previously unknown reserves to triumph. Following this seeming defeat, of course, is the denouement of the piece, the defeat of the villain by the use of Hostess brand desserts. These tropes are standard throughout the Hostess snack ads; all that is really changed from ad to ad is the super-hero and super-villain involved. While the artwork for each piece is unique, the stories are standardized, giving the parallel world of "Earth -Hostess" a predictable series of stories.
The super-hero is, it may be argued, a modern Western interpretation of such figures as the Native American trickster gods, or the Greek demi-god heroes, or even, in the case of someone like Superman, the messianic figures of Christian mythology. While the advertisements do use standard comic book devices to lure in unwary readers, it is not solely the use of the comic book format that makes the ads effective. One must also consider the content of the narratives, most especially their use of super-heroes. A super-hero is an embodiment of certain values and assumptions. Each one stands for different things, though most share the betterment of humankind as a core value. While the surface of a character like Spider-Man portrays his wise-cracking personality and fantastic powers, he also represents ideas, or ideals, that the Hostess ads rely upon for veracity. Spider-Man, is the hero who tries to do good, regardless of the hardships he must suffer, or the lack of accolades that come his way. He is in many ways the martyr archetype, the Christ-like figure of suffering for the good of the many. Myths come about "in response to a great many different social and psychological needs"(Grant vii). Spider-Man has long be thought of as the everyman with a heart of gold, the tragic hero who knows that "[w]ith great power there must also come -- great responsibility" (Lee 11), and it is these ideas that his depictions in any form carry with them. Thus, it can be argued that while defeating the dastardly Fly with Hostess Twinkies, Spider-Man is demonstrating this responsibility, and that someone who wants to emulate Spider-Man's noble qualities must necessarily use Twinkies as a means to his or her ends, too. Patently ridiculous, perhaps, but definitely what the company paying for the advertising is counting on.
These three meditations on aspects of the Hostess snack ads point to some interesting facets of contemporary culture. While many decry commodification as a denigration of "authentic cultural forms" (O'Brien 354), there is, in our consumer-driven society, a desire to somehow be attached to the heroes we revere. In this case, it involves eating the same snack foods that Daredevil and his enemies just cannot resist, but it could as easily be a pair of costume glasses that look just like Harry Potter's. Commodification helps us to make concrete links with our ephemeral mythologies. These links then, these concrete proofs of our heroes, become representative of the ideals that lie behind those heroes. In our contemporary setting, we like to be able to hold onto our myths. For this reason, it seems, many of our myths are interchangeable. The stories that are told of modern morals have standard pieces that parallel one another. While this is apparent in the two examples of the Hostess ads, one can apply these tropes to any popular cultural myth, and to any advertising that co-opts these myths.
In “The Production and Reproduction of Legitimate Language,” Pierre Bourdieu draws the distinction between “competence adequate to produce sentences that are understood...[and ones] that are listened to” (55). Successful advertisers are adept at gaining this mythological linguistic capital. Could Hostess have anticipated the envelopment of the world of their ads into the canon of comic book lore? It seems unlikely, but the Hostess ads demonstrate a company that not only understands the technical language of the comic book, but the mythological language that underlies it. While the argument can be made that these pieces are simply iterations of the course of myth through society, when myth is being commodified and standardized by a company trying to turn a profit, caution and criticism must be exercised in the stories we consume.
The examples of the Hostess snack comic book ads demonstrate a shift in the relationship the modern consumer has with myth. No longer is it acceptable to simply hear a story - we must now hold it in our hands. However, the standardization of these myths is not solely the realm of advertising. The sitcom always has a moment when the hero is at a low point, only to be rescued by some freak circumstance. The same goes for the crime drama. Many cherished cultural heroes share the same values of loyalty, selflessness, and wit. This interchangeability perhaps suggests that there really is only one myth, and we tell it over and over with different versions of the same pieces, and hold onto it with different versions of the same concrete proofs.
Appendix: Adventures from Earth-H!
Works Cited
Note: The citations for individual comic books are based on an article online found at http://www.comicsresearch.org/CAC/cite.html. It is a work in progress, as there is no official MLA guide for citing comic books.
Bourdieu, Pierre. Language and Symbolic Power. Harvard University Press, 1995.
“Daredevil in McBrain's Brain Drain.” The Avengers #177 (November 1978), Marvel Comics.
Grant, Michael and John Hazel. “Introduction.” Who's Who in Classical Mythology. London: Routledge, 1999. vii – x.
Lee, Stan (w), and Steve Ditko (p). “Spider-Man!” The 100 Greatest Marvels of All Time (December 2001), Marvel Comics.
O'Brien, Susie and Imre Szeman. Popular Culture: A User's Guide. Toronto: Nelson Education Ltd., 2010.
“Spider-Man! in The Spider-Man and the Fly!” Omega the Unknown #5 (November 1976), Marvel Comics.
Oct 1, 2009
A very brief, but very urgent recommendation...
If anything good has come out of the extended mess that is the Marvel Comics crossovers of the last 5 to 6 years, that entangled mesh of Avengers Disassembled, House of M, Civil War, Secret Invasion, World War Hulk, Dark Reign and countless other lesser stories in countless other titles, if we can pull from this morass (which, to be fair, has included some decent stories, but far, far too many tie-ins and crossovers) a lump of coal that has turned into a diamond under the enormous pressure of the mountain of stories, it is "Secret Warriors." You know all those things that you always loved about James Bond that were in the older movies, and to a certain extent the newer movies, but were never all in the same movie at the same time? Do you know what I'm talking about? 'Cause "Secret Warriors," the latest venue for that Bond of Bonds, Nick Fury, has all of it, and super powers. And it sparkles with every issue.
Johnathan Hickman, who writes (along with the ubiquitous Bendis for the first 6 issues) has made it onto that list of writers I will keep my hungry-for-more eyes on.
To sum, "Secret Warriors" has my seal of desperate approval. Here's what you need to know:
During the "Secret Invasion," Fury assembles a group of what he calls "caterpillars," superhumans that no one on earth knew about but him. Then he fashions them into a unit to pull the heroes collective asses out of the fire during the Skrull invasion. That's all you need. Go find issue #1.
Johnathan Hickman, who writes (along with the ubiquitous Bendis for the first 6 issues) has made it onto that list of writers I will keep my hungry-for-more eyes on.
To sum, "Secret Warriors" has my seal of desperate approval. Here's what you need to know:
During the "Secret Invasion," Fury assembles a group of what he calls "caterpillars," superhumans that no one on earth knew about but him. Then he fashions them into a unit to pull the heroes collective asses out of the fire during the Skrull invasion. That's all you need. Go find issue #1.
Jun 26, 2009
Reveiw of Batman and Robin #1
From Comic Book Resources, this review says all the things I wish I'd said about that comic.
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