Comics' Mythologization Trend

If the late 80's were the Grim-and-Gritty Period and the 90's were the Era of the Artist Superstar, then today we are surely living in comics' Age of Mythologization. While superheroes and their parables of good vs. evil have long been a sort of mythology for contemporary society, there has existed in the past 5 or 6 years a concerted effort to introduce expansive metanarratives into the histories of many of our favorite comic characters.

Such mythologization is characterized by casting the hero as a crucial figure in a grand conflict or phenomenon that transcends the mere details of his past adventures. It often involves a spiritual or mystical element that ties into the hero's origin and powers, as well as sometimes a similar opposing force associated with the villains. This can allow for the introduction of multiple versions or variations of the hero, either as a historical lineage or a contemporary fraternity.

Though mythologizing a superhero franchise can involve introducing new elements and characters to the universe in question, often comics come with ready-made ingredients to do so. There is already a plethora of costumed identities that have been shared by multiple comics characters over the years. Adding to this is the fact that the longest standing characters have complex histories throughout which they have been reinterpreted and reimagined numerous times. In many cases, a mythology is simply a way of threading together preexisting characters and eras. The best mythologist writers can make it seem as if the entire decades-long span of a title combines to tell a single gigantic story.

The poster boy for this type of character treatment is undoubtedly Geoff Johns in his recent DC work, but he's far from the only writer to embrace the trend. And though DC with its scores of "legacy" heroes and love of parallel universes seems the most likely candidate for mythologization, Marvel has not shied away from the concept either. The following are some of the best examples of superhero mythology from the last few years:

The Flash

Already discussed in-depth here in an earlier post, Mark Waid spent the bulk of the 90's setting the groundwork for today's superhero mythologization during his run on The Flash. The world of Wally West was already filled with others who had taken up the Flash mantle or bore similar powers under a different moniker. Waid showed us that this was more than mere coincidence. The Speed Force, which gave each of these individuals their powers, stood revealed as the shaper of speedster destiny from the beginning of time, and it remains as the foundation of the Flash mythos today.

Spider-Man

When J. Michael Straczynski signed on with the Marvel bullpen to write Amazing Spider-Man, he set out to do more than tell yet another parable of power and responsibility. From the outset of his tenure on the book, JMS cast Peter Parker as the most prominent of many throughout time who had gained the powers of the spider. The radioactive bite he suffered as a teen had merely been the means by which he became linked to this force. This new take made sense, as nearly all of Spider-Man's foes over the years (Vulture, Scorpion, Dr. Octopus, etc) were associated with some kind of animal symbol. All of these revelations came from the mouth of Ezekiel, himself imbued with spider abilities, and brought Peter into confrontation with Morlun, an evil being who sought to feast upon the might of the spider totem. Straczynski's additions to the Spider-Man universe were met with mixed reactions by longterm fans, and it remains to be seen whether these elements will continue to be referenced in the future.

Green Lantern

GL is probably the first character today's fans think of when considering mythologization. This comes from the fact that the newly introduced mythology has actually taken hold as a marketing device for DC in this year's Big Event, Blackest Night. Since the Silver Age, it has been established that a Green Lantern harness the power of the will. What writer Geoff Johns has brought us in stories like Rebirth and The Sinestro Corps War is that there are other colors of light that all correspond to a certain place on the "emotional spectrum." And each color comes with its own ring-wielding corps, with emotionally-appropriate oaths, powers, and motivations.

Iron Fist

In 2006, Matt Fraction and Ed Brubaker took the Marvel mainstay (but second tier) hero Iron Fist and cast the nets of mythology outward in two dimensions. Vertically, martial arts master Danny Rand was now the latest in a long line of men to have harnessed the power of the Iron Fist and serve as champion of the mythical city of K'un L'un. Horizontally, Danny shares his status with six other cities' champions, persons of various kung fu and mystical abilities who have at times acted as both enemy and ally to the bearer of the Iron Fist. Given that Brubaker and Fraction currently seem to be enjoying the status of architects of the Marvel Universe, it's safe to assume that Iron Fist has been permanently mythologized.

Superman (and the entire DC Universe)

In one sense, it seems absurd to think that Superman could be mythologized any further than he already has been. As the standard-bearer and inspiration for basically every other superhero, you could consider Superman's mythology to be all of comics. And that is exactly the perspective Grant Morrison took when he commented on the nature of hero stories in Final Crisis. He explains the DC Multiverse, with its variations-on-a-theme battles of good vs. evil as having spun-off from a single foundational story. And we as readers catch a glimpse of the heart of that story, standing in its center is the unmistakable archetypal image of Superman. It's the type of abstract, high-concept that won't be found on the back of an action figure package, but Final Crisis is required reading for anyone interested in how deep the mythology of comics can go.

Ultimate Marvel

On one hand, the alternate world of the Ultimate Marvel label was a way to bring classic characters into a more grounded, real world setting, much like today's superhero movies. But it was also an attempt to streamline and consolidate Marvel continuity, and with this came mythologization. In the Ultimate U, the experiments that created Captain America during WWII were repeated and revised by many scientists and corporations. Such endeavors indirectly led to the creation of the Hulk, the genetically-altered spider that bit Peter Parker, and the introduction of the mutant X-gene into the population. And it all may prove to be just a testing ground for the "real" Marvel Universe, the "origin" of which is set to be told in Ed Brubaker's upcoming The Marvels Project.

Was Final Crisis Part of a Trilogy?

Early 2008. Dan DiDio goes public with the notion that DC's upcoming Final Crisis mega-event will be the third installment of a "Crisis trilogy," the last chapter to the story told in Crisis on Infinite Earths and Infinite Crisis. The earth beneath the feet of many a fanboy begins to quake.

Does this man realize what he's saying???

To those who take epic storytelling structure seriously (to me, at least), the word trilogy carries with it tremendous weight. Though the term is often carelessly thrown out there by ad execs in the entertainment biz who still seek to cash in on Star Wars, it takes more than just the presence of three parts to make a trilogy. Those three parts must work together to convey a single theme or idea. In a story-driven trilogy, each individual chapter resolves its own sub-conflict, but by the end of a trilogy the plot must come full circle to resolve an overarching super-conflict that is carried through the entire series.

This is why the original Star Wars movies are a trilogy, but the Mission: Impossible movies are not. A good rule of thumb in analyzing whether a series is a trilogy is to think about how a fourth chapter, if such a thing is even possible, would relate to the first three. A "Star Wars: Episode VII" would involve a vastly different status quo than its predecessors, while a fourth M:I could fit right into a continuous telling of Ethan Hunt's (yes, that was Tom Cruise's character's name and I didn't have to look it up) adventures.

The trilogy is actually a natural format for storytellers to use, and my Christian faith leads me to believe that there's a spiritual reason why. In my old blog, I wrote the following:

When looking at human history through a Biblical lens, three divisions of time emerge. The first era, spanning the years chronicled by the Old Testament, involves the fall of man in the Garden of Eden and a period of waiting for Christ to come. Man currently lives in the second time period, where Christ has arrived and his work to redeem us from the clutches of sin is ongoing. The third and final stage of human existence will occur when Christ returns and the relationship between God, man, and creation is restored to its rightful state.

So, if people are living in the midst of a real-life trilogy, it makes sense that they would write their stories according to the same structure. Even non-Christians, like George Lucas or the Wachowski brothers, unknowingly divide their stories into three parts that correspond to the stages of God's salvation of humanity.

So you can see what was at stake for me as I read Final Crisis. Sure, I wanted to discover the "final fate" of Batman and witness the "day evil won" and all that. But what really had me on the edge of my seat was waiting to find out whether the series would live up to its billing as trilogy.

Six issues through the seven-part series I was more than ready to write-off DiDio's rantings as more corporate hype. Despite a first issue that had some monitors in it, Final Crisis appeared to have nothing to do with the subject matter of the first two Crises, which were about the structure of the DC Universe and its multiple parallel realities. Issue 7 was going to need to have quite the clutch performance in order to satisfy trilogy hunters like myself.

Surprisingly, that issue really did an impressive job of thematically tying Final Crisis to the first two. If Crisis on Infinite Earths was the story of the creating of a streamlined and redirected DC Universe and Infinite Crisis was an exploration of the consequences of that redirection, then Final Crisis was the realization that the streamlined universe itself still owed its character to all of the crazy and chaotic worlds that came before. This idea is the heart of the series' climax, where the Supermen of many earths join together with an army of angels and the Zoo Crew to confront Mandrakk. It is taken further when Nix Uotan realizes that he and his fellow Monitors must no longer try to impose their logic and order upon a multiverse that thrives both in its seriousness and sillyness.

All of the above would have made a great DC Crisis: Episode III if it stood alone as a theme to the story. But the reality is that Final Crisis had much more packed into its pages, so much so that its conclusion to the CoIE story could be easily missed if you weren't looking for it. Yes, Final Crisis was a follow up to the other Crisis series. But it was also a sequel to Seven Soldiers and the fulfillment of stories started in New Gods comics back in the 70's. Heck, it even works as a modern retelling of the comics that came with the Super Powers figures I played with as a kid. (I'll never forget the awesome ending to my Super Powers book on tape where Batman saved the day by pulling out a mirror and reflecting the Omega Effect back onto Darkseid himself! Sadly, only the first and second books in this series are available on YouTube...)

The majority of Final Crisis, if not the ending, focuses almost exclusively on these other things. And a story that casts its net so wide just doesn't look like a Part Three when placed alongside its predecessors which were much more closely linked. There's just too much else going on for it to work. I fear that Blackest Night, which has been billed as the third part of Geoff Johns' Green Lantern trilogy, will suffer the same kind of escalation in scope, as DC seems to be setting it up as the company-wide event for 2009.

For the most accurate preview of Final Crisis, fans should have turned not to DC's marketing giants but to the writer himself. As quoted on Wikipedia from this interview before the series was released, Grant Morrison said:

I wanted to do the biggest crossover there’s ever been... it’s got nods to everything, going back to "Flash of Two Worlds" and the first 'Crisis on Earth-1', 'Earth-2', all that stuff. So there’s little elements of all that...

One cannot fault Morrison for failing to live up to the expectations created by his publisher, because by all indications this is not what he set out to do. Rather than limiting his scope to wrapping up the Crisis storyline, Morrison sought to give the last word on a multitude of elements from DC Comics' past, and this is the standard Final Crisis should be judged by. Call it a sequel, a tribute, or even a conclusion. Just don't let DiDio get away with calling it a trilogy.

Reactions to Reactions to Final Crisis

My thoughts on two recent Final Crisis critiques and analyses I ran across online in the past week:

1. Thom Young at Comics Bulletin praises Final Crisis for its postmodern structure and take on the meaning of symbols. He writes (responding in part to another reviewer on the site):

...Language and symbols have the power to transform reality (or our perception of it, actually), which leads us to being able to conceive of ideas and concepts. It’s a significant distinction because it’s the essential difference between a Modern view of language and a Postmodern view of language (and the primacy of language is the foundation of Postmodernism).

The Modern and Aristotelian view is that ideas and concepts come first and are then expressed through language (which is what Dave stated). The Postmodern view is that language (or symbol system) comes first, which then allows us to organize our perceptions of the world around us--leading to concepts or ideas that otherwise could not exist before the introduction of linguistic structure.

Aside from our difference of opinion regarding the emphasis on words, names, and other symbols in Final Crisis, I agree with Dave’s emphasis on the importance of those aspects of the fifth issue. They are the various paraphrases in that chapter that have branched off from Morrison’s initial theme phrase: The magical power of symbols to structure our perceptions of reality.

There's no doubt that Grant Morrison uses postmodern literary techniques in Final Crisis. The series is often meta-textual and self-aware that it is a comic book. But I disagree with the notion that FC's thesis is one of symbolism's dominance over meaning. Sure, symbols are shown to have much power throughout the story, but that power can always ultimately be traced to some theoretical root source. For instance, Metron's circuit did not spontaneously appear and somehow give birth to the concept of freedom. Its power derived from the fact that Metron, a being on a higher plane, expressed his concept of knowledge to Anthro through it.

It may be that Morrison was actually going for a postmodern take on symbolism, intending for Final Crisis to place the medium over the message. If so, I'd say that the absurdity of such an idea ultimately bore itself out in the text, whether intentionally or not. But if I had to place money on it, I'd venture to say that this is not exactly what the writer had in mind.


2. In his "Permanent Damage" column at Comic Book Resources, Steven Grant rakes Final Crisis over the coals for having an immature view of mythology. To quote:

FINAL CRISIS shares the weakness of its inspiration, Jack Kirby's "Fourth World," and of most comics. It fixates on good and evil, where we're all now very aware, even if we don't admit it, that the concepts are basically nonsense.
...
In a world of moral relativity – and, yes, that is our world, and, really, always has been – we need better terms than those.

While I think Mr. Grant is dead on in his interpretation of what Final Crisis was trying to accomplish, I couldn't disagree more with his opinions on it. One has to wonder why a person so jaded to the notion of good and evil would have even a passing interest in superhero comics, much less want to write about them.

One of the things I love most about Grant Morrison's DC superhero work is that, despite his obvious fringe philosophy on a number of subjects, he completely understands and reveres the moral center that has kept the superhero going strong as a genre for the better part of a century. It may be masked behind an avant-garde approach to storytelling, but Morrison sure knows how to tell us a tale where the good guys win.

Batmen With Guns

As this blog is still very much in its rookie season, I've obviously still got a lot to learn. But one thing that my trips around the comics blog scene this week have taught me is that you ain't nobody in this business until you've posted either a "The sky is falling!"-style gripe or a "HolycrapObama'sinacomic!"-level rave about Batman and Darkseid's mutual "deaths" in Final Crisis #6.

Be that as it may, there's little chance for this fledgling blog to contribute anything of significance to the debate by posting the same old type of review nearly a week after the issue in question came out. But, as polarized as the two sides have been, both have generally agreed on (or at least glossed over) the answer to following question:

Did Batman really break his vow when he used a gun to kill Darkseid? I say no.

I mean, yeah, Batman did fire a big sci-fi gun right at Darkseid's chest. There's no denying that. And, yes, Batman did vow never to use firearms in his pursuit of justice. Whether or not you still accept Year Two as canon, this aspect of the character can be found throughout the comics' publication history. So while it's clear that the letter of the law was violated here, I think Batman remained entirely within the perimeter of his own moral code when he offed the big bad.

To properly examine the issue, you have to look at what would motivate Batman to take a vow against guns. The obvious answer here is that his parents were murdered with a gun, so Bruce Wayne knows firsthand the pain and destruction that guns can cause. Yet Batman, as driven as he is, doesn't wage his endless nightly crusade against guns themselves. He didn't hone his body to the peak of human perfection to chase after Smith & Wesson or to bring down the NRA. And he willingly works alongside the police who use guns regularly in their line of duty. So it stands to reason that Batman isn't against the GUN so much as he is against MURDER.

Though don't think for a minute that a Dark Knight stalking criminals in the streets of the Gotham night wouldn't be murderous. Even if he used it in self defense. Batman is such a physical match for the majority of those he fights that he could easily kill them with his bare hands if he so desired. Introducing a gun into the mix would make Batman nothing other than an executioner. As long as Batman boasts such physical superiority over his opponent, he could not KILL without committing MURDER.

Finally, Batman seeks JUSTICE. In the world in which he operates, muggers and crime bosses can be brought to trial where they will have to answer for their transgressions. If Batman were not to respect the social order and allow sentencing to occur in its proper place, he would take his city right back down the path of chaos that led to Thomas and Martha Wayne's deaths in the first place.

Darkseid is no common criminal. For most of his comics career he was the feared worst enemy of a superhero team that called itself the New Gods, for crying out loud. He's a monster. Practically Satan himself. Even written by Grant Morrison, Batman would seem to be an underdog when going up against a supernatural adversary such as this, gun or not. And if Darkseid were to be captured and detained, what court could bring him to justice?

When Batman says he's making an "exception" for Darkseid, he's not saying "Darkseid, you're so evil that I'm going to break one of my cardinal rules." He's actually saying, "Darkseid, you're an evil of such magnitude that I haven't even thought up a rule that covers you!"

I refuse to read this so-called final adventure of the Dark Knight in this so-called final crisis as the story of a man who ultimately gives up on his ideals. Instead, it's the tale of a hero who lives up to his quest for justice even to his last breath.

I'm glad Batman shot Darkseid. If I were in alone in a room facing the sinister lord of Apokolips with a gun capable of firing a bullet made of some kind of New Gods Kryptonite, would I shoot him too? Heck yeah, I would. And I hope you'd do the same.

The Way, The Truth, and the Anti-Life?

Are the followers of Darkseid in Final Crisis meant to represent the evangelical church?

The notion first occurred to me upon reading the above panel from Final Crisis: Submit, in which Black Lightning gets indignant over the practice of book burning taken up by those brainwashed by the anti-life equation. The use of Darwin's On The Origin of Species to illustrate the scene is by no means neutral or coincidental. It instantly evokes thoughts of the culture war in America and the standpoint of many conservative Christians, who, though generally not physically burning the book, are vocally opposed to its teaching in schools.

If the image had come from a tie-in written by another author, I probably would have dismissed it in terms of its relevance to Final Crisis at large. But the issue was written by Grant Morrison himself, and, assuming that the choice of book shown here wasn't left up to the artist's discretion, it should be seen as consistent with the themes of the series as a whole. This led me to examine the rest of the series, both prior to and following the Submit one-shot, for more of the same. As it turned out, I must have been a bit blind not to notice it before.

Courting Luthor back in Final Crisis #3, Libra asked him to "renounce science" and "swear an oath on the Bible of Crime." Note that the disciple of Darkseid doesn't contrast his religion of evil with some other religion that embraces good but rather with the logic and rationality of science. Throughout the series, those given over to anti-life are instructed to "judge" those who are different. And isn't "being judgmental" one of the stock accusations raised against Christians who openly espouse their ideas of a universal morality? Ironically, though one of the evil gods in the series takes the form of a TV preacher, I actually don't think he works as another critique of conservative evangelicals. He looks and talks too much like Al Sharpton for that.

It's a genuine shame to see Mr. Morrison analogize Christians to the bad guys of Final Crisis. First of all, it isn't a particularly inspired or original approach. But even if it were, too many of the positive themes of the story agree with Christian theology for this villanization to make sense! From the words of Metron on the first page of Final Crisis #1, Morrison has made it clear that the rise of heroism in the DC Universe has been enabled by a higher power. It is not simply a product of the works of man and the philosophies of reason. Superman Beyond highlights Superman not only as the prototypical hero of Earth-1 but portrays the Man of Steel himself as the product of a deeper eternal archetype. As a reader of the Old Testament who recognizes the typology of Christ at work in Moses, David, and Elijah, I can jump on board with that.

Here's hoping that Morrison doesn't view himself as the originator of such themes. At the latest, the Apostle Paul beat him to it by a couple thousand years!

I believe it would have been much more interesting (and consistent with the true nature of good vs. evil) if Darkseid had been portrayed as a corrupter of religion. As he seeks to define the nature of the coming Fifth World with his own perverse version of faith, the heroes rise up to defend the ideals of truth and purity. Imagine if the following encounter occurred in Final Crisis between Libra and one of DC's nominally Christian characters, let's say...the angel Zauriel, a Morrison creation from his JLA days.

[The Justifiers, led by LIBRA with anti-life helmet in hand, close in on the wounded ZAURIEL.]

LIBRA
Submit to anti-life!
Confess that Darkseid is GOD!

ZAURIEL
A god...yes.
But...there is only...
...one God..
...and His name...
...isn't...
Darkseid!