Freedom Reborn

Steven Grant writes a good analysis of Watchmen and its impact on the comics industry in this week's Permanent Damage column:

http://comicbookresources.com/?page=article&id=20319

Or maybe I think it's good only because his opinion (of the book, and Alan Moore's other prominent works) mirrors my own to a surprising extent (in general, I disagree with Grant's opinions as often as I agree with them), thus throwing my obejectivity-meter out of whack.

Discuss.

My relationship with Watchmen is that it hit certain buttons that most other comic books almost never have. For one I am a huge Kurt Vonnegut fan and for me Dr. Manhattan reminds me of Slaughterhouse Five, in that sometimes a characters story should be told not in cronological order but instead in the order of relevance. The narrative bounces around in time telling you exactly what you need to know while it races twards something inevitable.

The other thing is that as a foreigner I tend to see a lot of xenophobia, racism and general creepyness in the more patriotic defenders of America. And while a lot of people think Rorschach is awesome, I love that he is coated in a thick layer of ultra right concervative slime. Now Rorschach does not explicitely come out against gays, liberals or foreigners but his choice in reading material does, giving you a good idea as to why he fights "the good fight".

So yeah, in terms of narrative experimentation and uneasy subject matter, I think it is great. On the other hand Alan Moore just does not know when enough is enough sometimes. Read "From Hell" and you will see what I mean, much like Stephen King he always ends up "unedited" to his detriment.

I think he's mostly right, and a little bit wrong.

Spoiler

I think that he underplays or maybe underestimates the strengths of Watchmen as a work of art and literature.
He mentions the symmetrical structure as adding little of value, and I suppose he could be right. But I think that he is wrong. The "rigid" structure and symmetry add greatly to the weight and strength of the book, to me.
I've always thought that the numerous, sometimes seemingly contrived "coincidences" of art and dialogue which are found throughout the book to be an indication that structure, that connectedness, is part and parcel of what it is "about".
Many of the characters speak or think about how they have a unique perspective and knowledge about the world and its workings.
Manhattan is the most spectacular and obvious, with his perception encompassing all time, past present and future.
Rorschach claims to "read" the signs of the city, and to have been enlightened as to the "real" nature of people by his experiences.
The Comedian also feels he understands the "joke" but few others do; "what's going down in this world, you got no idea".
Ozymandius views dozens of screens simultaneously, taking in information and making connections and conclusions on which to plan and act.
Even the news-vendor on the street corner often claims his job gives him access to information which allows him to put together the "bigger picture".
All have different viewpoints but all feel that they see the "real" structure of things, the nature of existence.
Very little in the book is accidental. The art, it's layout, the little details usually are significant in either giving information about the "plot" of the book, but more often echoing back and forwards themes and images which are within the plot. The synchronicity of the words and pictures is far beyond what we normally get in comics, and although some of the devices used to shift scenes, for instance, in retrospect look a little contrived, overused or clumsy, they all speak to a connectedness, of all things.
The whole book is so carefully and thoughtfully crafted that it reads unlike 99% of other comics. Few have tried anything so ambitious, and few of those have succeeded.

Summary: tommyboy goes on and on about watchmen. He thinks its really good.

Points in the article that I found myself agreeing with:

1. The industry's (and fandom's) tendency to canonize particular writers and artists occasionally stifles critical analysis of their works

- One thing that has always bothered me when attempting discussion of comics is that many readers/fans of prominent comics creators (on the internet and in "the analog world") seem to equate critical evaluation of a work with an attack on the creator's person, or an attack on comics in general. Granted, this isn't just particular to the comics industry and comics fandom, but in a relatively small industry like comics publishing, I think this has contributed to the somewhat limited intelligent discourse concerning the medium.

2. An oft-overlooked feature of Watchmen is its faithful adherence to underlying structure and theme

- For me, this is actually the most interesting feature of Watchmen. Moore and Gibbons really went to town with the whole symmetry stuff. Every page layout is replicated at some point within each chapter/issue on an opposing page (a mirror image, so to speak). There's also the symmetry and polarity in characterization, with each prominent character being paired with a constitutive Other that serves to define and complete that character. EDIT: And of course, there's the "Tales of the Black Freighter" thematically mirroring the evets in the main comic and the meta-symmetry of the pirate comics genre succeeding the superhero comics genre within Watchmen's world.

I can't remember any other comic work that has so throughly carried over its theme in both the writing and the art. I'm still wondering how the people behind the new film adaptation will attempt to recreate that sense of symmetry on screen (if they attempt to recreate it at all). 

3. Watchmen's plot, such as it is, doesn't strike me as anything too remarkable

- I always hear people raving about Watchmen's groundbreaking story. I just assume that these people have never seen "Architects of Fear," the 1963 Outer Limits TV show episode that Moore cribbed the plot device (folks who've read Watchmen will know what I'm referring to) which the story hinges on from, or they've never read the numerous post-World War II sci-fi short fiction stories that utilize said plot device (premiere among them Theodore Sturgeon's 1948 short story "Unite and Conquer"). Also, as a corollary to point #1, (rhetorical question alert!) why is it that when Moore cribs from others' work, it's an homage or "cultural allusion" but when a less prominent but similarly capable writer does it, comics fandom calls him/her unimaginative or derivative?

As it is, and I think Moore would be the first to admit this (if he hasn't already, and I think he has in a number of interviews, unless my memory is going all wonky again), Watchmen is basically an overly-elaborate shaggy dog story that was elevated to a deserved premier status by the ambition and level of its craft. 

There are a bunch of other points I want to bring up, hopefully I'll be able to add them later when time allows.       

See, i don't really consider the ending as the plot, anymore than I think of it as a whole as being a "whodunnit" murder mystery.
I actually think that what it is about is the connectedness of things, of the structure of things, as well as being an examination of morality and how people get to their different worldviews and morality.
And although it may have been used before (the ending twist, that is), I think it's fair to say it had never appeared within a context quite like this before.
So, yes, there are many elements, ideas and themes Moore "borrows" within the book (I was struck whilst rereading to research my latest meshes how the "Rorschach origin" bit with the saw and handcuffs was circulating when I was a boy (15 years pre-Watchmen) as an apocryphal tale of the cruelty of Japanese prisoner of war guards, and probably dates back even further). Why people are forgiving of him for recycling this stuff is he does it in ways that make it fresh, or in contexts that provide new, richer meaning. You might as well complain (and I know that you aren't complaining ZD, it's just a figure of speech) that he recycles the Charlton "ideas" as his Watchmen. The point is that often the ideas are only the starting point from which he proceeds, whereas lesser writers merely reproduce other's ideas often in the very same contexts as originally seen.

Quote from: tommyboy on March 05, 2009, 10:18:11 PMI actually think that what it is about is the connectedness of things, of the structure of things, as well as being an examination of morality and how people get to their different worldviews and morality.

Oh, I wholeheartedly agree it is largely about those things (and then some). But those concerns fall under the purview of narrative theme and motif. The technical plot, the linear sequence of events upon which the theme is wound around, is what I personally found a little unsatisfying and a bit stilted.

And lest I come off as somebody who doesn't (or can't) enjoy Watchmen, let me say that I do like it (particularly in how Moore tackled the fetishistic implications of the superhero morality and ethic), and I think it is one of the most significant comic book works of all time, although one side-effect of having read Watchmen is I don't enjoy the comics that attempted to follow suit in the (sigh) "grim 'n' gritty" fad that sprung up post-Watchmen the same way I did when I was a kid (a lot of them just come off as trite, hollow, and sensationalistic to the older and more well-read version of myself).   

More thoughts on Watchmen (continued from post #3 of this thread):

- One thing I took away from reading Watchmen is the notion that "superheroing" (by which I mean the use of violence and the threat of violence by costumed do-gooders to deter crime) is really a child's affair. Far from painting superheroes as "mature" or "adult" as he is often credited as doing, Moore depicted his protagonists as a pair of societal misfits regressing into teen roles and living out idealized childhood fantasies (Nite Owl II and Silk Spectre II) and an emotionally and socially stunted man-child who refuses to outgrow a juvenile and simplistic binary view of morality and ethics (Rorschach).

Ozymandias and The Comedian on the other hand, elevate themselves to "adult" status by seeing costumed crimefighting for the illusion it really is. It is part and parcel of the joke that The Comedian (and hopefully, the reader) is party to. It is apparent in Watchmen's world that the costumed crimefighting exploits of superheroes leading up to the events depicted in the story have been ineffectual in engendering any real positive change in society at large.             

Good points ZD.
Going back to my referencing the density and structure of the book, I want to look at part of one page from chapter 8, page 3.
Top of the page, 3 panel spread panning left to right across an intersection.
Panel one
News-vendors voice from off panel; "it's like all our old nightmares come back to haunt us y'know?"
Caption from the black freighter comic text; "adrift and starving my darkest imaginings welled up unchecked, spilling from brain to heart like black ink, impossible to remove".
The art shows the left part of the intersection, the only thing of note is the graffiti on a wall of a couple embracing, which earlier we were shown is the work of the Knot head gang that will figure large in this issue. These graffiti have also been compared to shadows of people at hiroshima (the fear/nightmare of nuclear war looming large throughout the book), and are akin to the rorschach card and shadows Rorschach remembers his unhappy childhood with. So they simultaneously foreshadow the issues events, and echo one of the central themes, and remind us of the ugly past of one of the characters.
The voice of the newsvendor and pirate comic obviously echo in theme, as do the silhouettes on the wall, even down to being "black ink, impossible to remove".

Panel two
NV ;"Red invasions, masked men...seen this weeks Nova Express? "spirit of 77" I mean, I remember 1977...God spare us"
Pirate caption; "I pictured Davidstowns quiet streets overrun by tatooed fiends. Recalling their brutality, I moaned."
Picture shows; view down street at centre of intersection. WE see the newsvendor receiving a delivery, it's night so the street is largely empty.
Again, the two text captions echo each other, the riots of 77 mirriring the "quiet streets overrun by tatooed fiends". Also note the streets overrun by tattooed fiends is again forshsadowing this issues events. The art showing "quiet streets", which in 77 were not quiet.

Panel three
NV; "everythings going to hell. I'm just glad my Rosa ain't alive to see it."
Pirate caption; "The freighter had surely reached Davidstown already. My wife was almost certainly dead. These notions transfixed me, stopping time in it's tracks."
The art shows the right hand side of the intersection, the institute for spatial studies building (more foreshadowing of whats to come later in the book), a man with a Pyramid company jacket (interconnectedness and foreshadowing), and a movie street sign advertising "the day the earth stood still".
Once again the two text lines echo each other, with references to dead wives, and the "transfixed me, stopping time in its tracks" line in the pirate caption is neatly echoed in the advert for "the day the earth stood still".

What is my point?
That these three panels, chosen almost at random, show the complexity of the narrative text, the interplay between text and art, the richness and density of the book. To dwell only on the "symmetry" of the book completely misses the symmetry and denseness present on every page.
People often mention that the pirate comic mirrors and echoes Ozymandius in the main story. But few mention that every single pirate comic caption or picture also mirror and echo the scenes around, before and after them, weaving together the "comic book" and "real world" through puns, double meanings and symbolism.
In short, I guess that I am saying that it is a much better book than it is given credit for, that the overt "plot" and story tend to get discussed as if they were more important than the themes and ideas it evokes as a whole.

Nice breakdown tommy.

Quote from: tommyboy on March 06, 2009, 12:47:20 PMthe overt "plot" and story tend to get discussed as if they were more important than the themes and ideas it evokes as a whole.

I think a lot of it has to do with many readers and reviewers confusing plot and the stylised dialogue for narrative theme and motif and vice-versa. And that's understandable. As mentioned in the article I linked to at the beginning of the thread, most comic book stories are fashioned (even multi-part stories), structurally, after the traditional short story. Short stories, due to their brevity, tend to focus on narrating sequences of events, going from plot point A to plot point B to plot point C. Watchmen, however, was envisioned from the start as a novel. Not a collection of single issues to be later strung together as a "graphic novel," but an actual novel, albeit one doled out into pamphlet-sized chapters to fit in with the market at the time. A novel, of course, contains the linear narrative, but it also gives the writer the space to explore a much larger theme and to utilize motifs to reinforce that theme.

It stands to reason that many comics readers (and perhaps many comics writers) may miss out on the themes and motifs found in Watchmen or alternatively, focus on the superficial narrative aspects of the book (the violent Rorschach sequences, for example) having been conditioned by a lifetime of reading "typically structured" comic book stories.

That's also probably why a lot of the writers who came later doing what they thought were works inspired by Watchmen only managed to ape the the book's superficial aspects (the bande-désignée vérité aesthetic, if you will), but hardly any of its depth or complexity.   

Despite my misgivings about certain plot elements in Watchmen (the clunky Outer Limits-inspired plot device, Dr. Manhattan's overly-sentimental and logically flawed "thermodynamic miracle" epiphany), it still manages to blow my mind with repeat readings all these years later.

I have to agree with Grant's observation (see original article I linked to in the first post) that Watchmen might be the most deliberately structured piece of popular literature since Milton's Paradise Lost (well, the most deliberately structured one that actually manages to work as a popular culture artifact, at least... there are probably more deliberately structured works out there that are of interest mainly to the literary "technician"). It's damn near impossible to catch all the repeating motifs with a single reading and it's one of the rare comics that gives up definite rewards to the astute and attentive reader.

For instance, one of the many underlying themes in the work is that of the modern "hero" as one who has an adaptable and flexible moral stance, one who is willing to compromise/concede certain personal needs and principles in service of a practical good. We see this theme in the larger motif of Ozymandias compromising his pacifist principles in order to create the illusion that will trick the world into adopting a Cold War truce and in Nite Owl, Silk Spectre, and Doc Manhattan's being silent party to this lie in order to sustain that peace (in contrast, Rorschach is a "hero" who has an inflexible and rigid personal moral and ethical code, one who would rather risk the world covered in the flames of a nuclear conflagration rather than violate his beloved principles). This thematic patterning is repeated in the subplot/motif of the original Silk Spectre lying to her daughter about her true parentage, in order to give her some semblance of a normal childhood and avoid the distress that might be caused by her daughter's knowing that her father is the same person who sexually assaulted her mother. And again this is repeated in the brief and smaller motif of the prison psychiatrist willing to sacrifice his crumbling marital relations in order to help break up a lesbian lovers' quarrel gone terribly violent (this happens, if you recall, right before the big squid explosion hits) and in other smaller motifs peppered throughout the book. It's really an impressive example of thematic patterning and layering of narrative motifs, one whose nuances, I think, are lost on many readers who read the book as a "traditional" comic book story, focusing mainly on the events that comprise the "A" plot.

Each character's philosophical and psychological outlook is presented, and you can understand and virtually emphasize with all of them, including the ruthless liberal Ozymandias, the detached superman Dr. Manhattan, the uncertain idealist Nite Owl and the Travis Bickle Randite Rorschach. I have the hardest time with the fascist Comedian, but you understand even him. Ebert said it's about "the dilemma of functioning in a world losing hope," and super heroes, the ultimate expression of individualistic hope and power, are effective symbols in contrast.
Favorite bits: when asked what happened to the American dream, the mass-murdering Comedian chortles, "It came true! This is it!" And the uncompromising Rorschach's silently hurt feelings and apology when Nite Owl dresses him down for being a bad friend.

Neat observations dan. I probably empathize with the Comedian's cynical outlook (within the context of the book, mind you) more than most people who read the graphic novel, and I think that there's really not much that differentiates him from Ozymandias... they're both intelligent pragmatists who can see through the joke of "crimefighting," with the key difference between the two being that The Comedian revels and thrives in a world that's going to hell in a handbasket while Ozymandias looks to change things for the better.

I will disagree with you that Ozymandias is "ruthlessly liberal," though. The thing I like about the characters in Watchmen is that they don't fall into the populist, typically "conservative" superhero mold (i.e.; Batman, Superman) nor are they one-dimensional "liberal" reactionary creations (à la Denny O'Neil's Green Arrow). The difference between Ozymandias and Rorschach, I think, is rooted in the contrasting styles with which they solve problems. Ozymandias is able to think out of the box to solve seemingly intractable problems (the Gordian knot (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gordian_knot) metaphor for the problem of mutually assured nuclear destruction) while Rorschach, playing by an artificial set of moral "rules" refuses to bypass those self-imposed rules in order to get at the only reasonable solution to the problem. I think this speaks more to differences in intellectual flexibility and applied intelligence than it does to their positions on the left-right political spectrum. I mean certainly, one can have "liberal values" and still be dogmatic and intellectually inflexible, and holding "conservative beliefs" shouldn't preclude one from being open-minded and having the intellectual capacity to adapt.     

*BTW, I use the terms "liberal" and "conservative" in this post not in the formal sense, but as they're colloquially used by popular media these days to denote particular socio-politico-economic generalizations in American society 

I suppose my largest problem with Watchmen is that it suggests that the superheros (Rorshach, Nite Owl, Silk Spectre, Ozymandias, the Comedian & Dr. Manhattan) are pointless - they haven't made the world a better place, they're just doing it for the thrill, compulsion, costume-kink, to fulfill expectations, sociopathy, etc. 

I think if non-powered people dressed up and tried to fight crime themselves it would end up being like that, and they'd probably get themselves killed very quickly.  However, in the Watchmen world, they've been doing this for a significant amount of time without dying, and presumably saved a fair number of people from violent crimes.  To dismiss lives saved as pointless because it didn't change the world misses a pretty important point; paramedics rarely change the world either, but the people they help are pretty darn glad they got up and went to work that morning.

Quote from: Talavar on March 10, 2009, 11:12:32 PM
I suppose my largest problem with Watchmen is that it suggests that the superheros (Rorshach, Nite Owl, Silk Spectre, Ozymandias, the Comedian & Dr. Manhattan) are pointless - they haven't made the world a better place, they're just doing it for the thrill, compulsion, costume-kink, to fulfill expectations, sociopathy, etc. 

I think if non-powered people dressed up and tried to fight crime themselves it would end up being like that, and they'd probably get themselves killed very quickly.  However, in the Watchmen world, they've been doing this for a significant amount of time without dying, and presumably saved a fair number of people from violent crimes.  To dismiss lives saved as pointless because it didn't change the world misses a pretty important point; paramedics rarely change the world either, but the people they help are pretty darn glad they got up and went to work that morning.

Yep.
At the risk of offending anyone, we already have people who dress up in a special costume and fight crime in the real world, they are known as the Police. They have not, as yet, gotten rid of all crime, injustice, and evil, but that hardly makes them pointless. It doesn't mean that the world is not "a better place" for them doing what they do.
I never read Watchmen as saying or even implying that the heroes are "pointless". Every person saved, every crime averted changes the world, a lot, for someone. Does it create a utopia? No.
As to motive, that varies from individual to individual, both in fictional superheroes, but also in real heroes like police, paramedics or firefighters. The same spread of idealist, thrill seeker, costume kink etc is found in real humans too. The proportions may vary considerably, but the extent of the spectrum is pretty accurate, even if the proportions of each type are exaggerated.
"Mainstream" comic book superheroes often imply that their role is to supplement, replace or 'do properly' the job of the police. That there are villains beyond the reach or power of the law, (usually because of super powers). Watchmen has no "super powered" villains, so it's heroes do little that beat policemen could not do, which could be read as "pointless", I guess. But are Private Detectives pointless? Are Bouncers? Are Bodyguards? Are Bail Bondsmen? All are covering aspects of Police work to some extent, regardless of motive. And so too are Watchmen's super heroes.

There is so much that I'd like to write here, but I don't have the time at the moment.  I would like to thank ZD, though, as his point about the contrast between Ozy's and Rorshach's brand of heroism and morality has solidified a point for a paper I'm writing.  Thanks ZD, you just brought something important out to which I wasn't paying attention.

Quote from: Talavar on March 10, 2009, 11:12:32 PMTo dismiss lives saved as pointless because it didn't change the world misses a pretty important point; paramedics rarely change the world either, but the people they help are pretty darn glad they got up and went to work that morning.

tommyboy pretty much said my response for me, but here are some additional thoughts:

The key difference between paramedics saving lives and the superheroes in Watchmen's world saving lives is this:

Paramedics (not to mention police, soldiers, firefighters, etc.) save lives as a matter of course in the line of duty. It's their job. There might be an underlying motivation of altruism, or a self-serving need for adulation or whatever colouring that sense of duty, but on the whole, police and paramedics fulfill their roles as lifesavers and crimefighters as a part of the normative social structure. In the case of superheroes, they do their lifesaving as a fringe phenomenon existing outside of the law, and, if you agree with Moore, as a way to escape the mundanity of their everyday lives. For Hollis Mason (the first Nite Owl), for example, it's not enough that he stop crime within the bounds of his duties as a police officer, he has to do it in a fashion that somehow aligns with his fantastical childhood idea of what a "hero" does. A life saved is a life saved, of course, whether it's saved by a cop or a guy wearing gaudy underwear on the outside, but Moore makes it clear that in terms of motivation, there is a difference between the superhero-type and the garden-variety crimefighter.

You may not agree with Moore (and I suspect many superhero fans don't), but that is one of the primary delineations he outlines between superheroes and sanctioned crimefighters like the police.

Quote from: Talavar on March 10, 2009, 11:12:32 PM
I suppose my largest problem with Watchmen is that it suggests that the superheros (Rorshach, Nite Owl, Silk Spectre, Ozymandias, the Comedian & Dr. Manhattan) are pointless - they haven't made the world a better place, they're just doing it for the thrill, compulsion, costume-kink, to fulfill expectations, sociopathy, etc.

Well, that's sort of a blunt way to put it, but essentially, yes. It's not so much that Moore is saying that superheroes are incapable of making the world a better place, but the practice of "costumed crimefighting" and "costumed adventuring," even when done by legit authorities like the police or the military is, at best, a symptomatic treatment of an endemic social ill (such as say, when city governments think that simply increasing the police presence is sufficient to reduce crime in an economically depressed area) or largely an exercise in playing out juvenile power fantasies (Nite Owl I and II, Rorschach), a way to make money (Silk Spectre I), or a way for certain individuals to get their kink on (i.e.; Hooded Justice, Captain Metropolis). Lasting crime (or war) prevention isn't a product of a case-by-case application of directed violence (as cynically, people have the innate urge to stir up trouble with each other), it can only be achieved through widescale social and economic engineering.   

To drive the (admittedly very clumsy and overly simplified) "social ill" metaphor further into the ground, imagine society as a person who develops hypertension (high blood pressure) due to poor diet and lack of exercise. Sure, that person can just keep taking blood pressure medication to treat the symptomatic manifestations of the illness, but ultimately, unless that person takes concrete steps in changing his/her lifestyle, a heart attack or a stroke is almost inevitable.

In a similar vein, the directed application of violence or the threat of violence (legally sanctioned or not) treats the immediate symptoms of criminality, but does little in the way of ameliorating the causes of the problem, which are more often than not, rooted in socioeconomic factors immune to bullets, punches, and headlocks. Now, I'm not saying that there is no place for the directed application of violence in curbing crime because there is a practical need for it, but a crimefighting outlook that relies solely on this, which is how most superheroes have been traditionally portrayed, is juvenile, flawed and incomplete.

Quote from: BentonGrey on March 11, 2009, 01:21:43 AMI would like to thank ZD, though, as his point about the contrast between Ozy's and Rorshach's brand of heroism and morality has solidified a point for a paper I'm writing.  Thanks ZD, you just brought something important out to which I wasn't paying attention.

Hey, glad I could help. Good luck on that paper!

EDIT: BTW, It's not my intent to "condemn" traditional depictions of superheroes... I enjoy them for the nostalgia and they also help me keep in touch with the more naive sensibilities of my youth. In the same vein, any writer or comics creator who thinks they're making a superhero comic fit for a mature reader by simply amping up the sex, violence, and the language, or heaping on "socially relevant" themes while not taking a more sophisticated view of social realities, morality and ethics isn't really getting me to buy their work on a regular basis.   

Quote from: zuludelta on March 11, 2009, 03:09:28 AMWell, that's sort of a blunt way to put it, but essentially, yes. It's not so much that Moore is saying that superheroes are incapable of making the world a better place, but the practice of "costumed crimefighting" and "costumed adventuring," even when done by legit authorities like the police or the military is, at best, a symptomatic treatment of an endemic social ill (such as say, when city governments think that simply increasing the police presence is sufficient to reduce crime in an economically depressed area) or largely an exercise in playing out juvenile power fantasies (Nite Owl I and II, Rorschach), a way to make money (Silk Spectre I), or a way for certain individuals to get their kink on (i.e.; Hooded Justice, Captain Metropolis). Lasting crime (or war) prevention isn't a product of a case-by-case application of directed violence (as cynically, people have the innate urge to stir up trouble with each other), it can only be achieved through widescale social and economic engineering.

To drive the (admittedly very clumsy and overly simplified) "social ill" metaphor further into the ground, imagine society as a person who develops hypertension (high blood pressure) due to poor diet and lack of exercise. Sure, that person can just keep taking blood pressure medication to treat the symptomatic manifestations of the illness, but ultimately, unless that person takes concrete steps in changing his/her lifestyle, a heart attack or a stroke is almost inevitable.

In a similar vein, the directed application of violence or the threat of violence (legally sanctioned or not) treats the immediate symptoms of criminality, but does little in the way of ameliorating the causes of the problem, which are more often than not, rooted in socioeconomic factors immune to bullets, punches, and headlocks. Now, I'm not saying that there is no place for the directed application of violence in curbing crime because there is a practical need for it, but a crimefighting outlook that relies solely on this, which is how most superheroes have been traditionally portrayed, is juvenile, flawed and incomplete.

Preeecisely. It's interesting that the only characters in comic mags that actually want to change the world on a grand scale are the villains. Magneto? Over-run the violent and worthless human race. Sinestro? Unite everyone under a banner of order. Lex Luthor? Eliminate mankind's pathetic need for gods. Dr. Doom? Take over the world, just for the heck of it. What happens when a superhero turns their powers to the forces of global good? They're thwarted, as the author is always trying to tell us some story about how difficult real life problems are. Superman can't feed the world because of despots and fear and his own physical limitations. The only time a hero can actually fix things are Elseworlds or What Ifs, like Superman: Red Son. (That's kind of preposterous; ALL superhero comics are Elseworlds.)

People expect to read about heroes relating to their own society. Getting too far away from that would drive people away. Do you honestly think if Superman was around on September 11th, the towers would've fallen? Or that the Japenese would've bombed Hiroshima? If telepaths existed we wouldn't have any more missing children. If super-geniuses existed we wouldn't have an energy crisis, we'd have flown to the stars, we'd have resolved quantum mechanics and general relativity. It's the bane of serial publication: everything has to stay in line with the status quo, rather than acknowledging how far things would drift from our own world over time. Because people don't WANT to read that. They don't want to read a story about Green Lantern stopping Vietnam, about Punisher assassinating Castro, or Storm averting Katrina. Because it would be a disservice to the people who actually lived through such atrocities, or the memories of those who died in them. It's only looking back that we can say "What if Captain Marvel had stopped this?" But the universe of comics are set in stone (barring retcons) every month, so they don't have that luxury.

Quote from: zuludelta on March 11, 2009, 03:09:28 AM

Quote from: Talavar on March 10, 2009, 11:12:32 PM
I suppose my largest problem with Watchmen is that it suggests that the superheros (Rorshach, Nite Owl, Silk Spectre, Ozymandias, the Comedian & Dr. Manhattan) are pointless - they haven't made the world a better place, they're just doing it for the thrill, compulsion, costume-kink, to fulfill expectations, sociopathy, etc.

Well, that's sort of a blunt way to put it, but essentially, yes. It's not so much that Moore is saying that superheroes are incapable of making the world a better place, but the practice of "costumed crimefighting" and "costumed adventuring," even when done by legit authorities like the police or the military is, at best, a symptomatic treatment of an endemic social ill (such as say, when city governments think that simply increasing the police presence is sufficient to reduce crime in an economically depressed area) or largely an exercise in playing out juvenile power fantasies (Nite Owl I and II, Rorschach), a way to make money (Silk Spectre I), or a way for certain individuals to get their kink on (i.e.; Hooded Justice, Captain Metropolis). Lasting crime (or war) prevention isn't a product of a case-by-case application of directed violence (as cynically, people have the innate urge to stir up trouble with each other), it can only be achieved through widescale social and economic engineering.   

To drive the (admittedly very clumsy and overly simplified) "social ill" metaphor further into the ground, imagine society as a person who develops hypertension (high blood pressure) due to poor diet and lack of exercise. Sure, that person can just keep taking blood pressure medication to treat the symptomatic manifestations of the illness, but ultimately, unless that person takes concrete steps in changing his/her lifestyle, a heart attack or a stroke is almost inevitable.

In a similar vein, the directed application of violence or the threat of violence (legally sanctioned or not) treats the immediate symptoms of criminality, but does little in the way of ameliorating the causes of the problem, which are more often than not, rooted in socioeconomic factors immune to bullets, punches, and headlocks. Now, I'm not saying that there is no place for the directed application of violence in curbing crime because there is a practical need for it, but a crimefighting outlook that relies solely on this, which is how most superheroes have been traditionally portrayed, is juvenile, flawed and incomplete.

But just as I don't go to a baker to get my taxes done, I'm not going to necessarily tap a guy with super-strength or who knows kung-fu to draft my government's social policy.  To use your hypertension metaphor, you don't stop needing your blood pressure pills unless you take those concrete steps to change your lifestyle, and turn your health around.  To condemn the treatment for not being a cure doesn't make a lot of sense.  You take the pills, and then you try to improve your overall health.

Watchmen is Moore's deconstruction of superheros, but in a way, I think it's a strawman argument.  He's written a story that doesn't need superheros, and created characters whose range of motivations omit a big one: guilt (shared in some form and to some degree by Superman, Batman, Spider-man, etc.), and then that construct is applied to the genre as a whole.  Socio-political situations don't need superheros, but lots of individual problems could sure use one - plane crashes, natural disasters, random assaults.  In fact, in a way, Watchmen deconstructs the superhero but advocates the supervillain - no one like Ozymandias really exists, but the Cold War and MAD get resolved by him using a fairly traditional super-villain set-up (not his motivations, but his methods). 

Because Ozymandias is a villain, whatever his intentions.  The man killed millions to avert a potential disaster, a disaster that we managed to avoid in the real world without any such dramatic events.  Now, the Soviets of Watchmen's reality had the added pressure of an American super-man egging them on, but Ozymandias could have removed Dr. Manhattan from the equation much more easily than his chosen solution - probably with a well-worded argument. 

The superhero genre is flawed & incomplete though.  While I don't think the existence of superheroes would make our world idyllic, they would change it radically.  Beings like Dr. Manhattan & Superman simply by existing would change how people think about even things like philosophy & theology - what are biblical miracles compared to the stuff they can do?  Super-inventor characters like Tony Stark, Mr. Fantastic, etc., would rapidly have us living in a world whose technology would far outstrip what we have today.  Action movies and the actors who play them would probably be much less popular.  Society would change in thousands of ways we can speculate on, and probably thousands more no one would guess, as normal people reacted to the existence of superheroes.  The genre is incomplete because it almost never takes that next step - we get a version of today's society, + superheroes.

Quote from: Gremlin on March 11, 2009, 03:53:13 AM
Preeecisely. It's interesting that the only characters in comic mags that actually want to change the world on a grand scale are the villains. Magneto? Over-run the violent and worthless human race. Sinestro? Unite everyone under a banner of order. Lex Luthor? Eliminate mankind's pathetic need for gods. Dr. Doom? Take over the world, just for the heck of it. What happens when a superhero turns their powers to the forces of global good? They're thwarted, as the author is always trying to tell us some story about how difficult real life problems are. Superman can't feed the world because of despots and fear and his own physical limitations. The only time a hero can actually fix things are Elseworlds or What Ifs, like Superman: Red Son. (That's kind of preposterous; ALL superhero comics are Elseworlds.)

I think many of the heroic characters would like to change the world on a grand scale, they just aren't willing to use the same methods.  To decide that you know best, and then to impose that viewpoint on anyone who dissents with you is what makes a villain; it's not necessarily the ends, but the means.  Superman can't feed the world because to do so, he'd have to impose his will on a great number of people who would otherwise object.  Superman the hero/benevolent god would cease, and Superman the planetary dictator would begin.  A relatively benevolent planetary dictator might actually be good for most of humanity in the long run, but I wouldn't vote for it.

Quote from: Talavar on March 11, 2009, 06:10:43 AMBut just as I don't go to a baker to get my taxes done, I'm not going to necessarily tap a guy with super-strength or who knows kung-fu to draft my government's social policy.  To use your hypertension metaphor, you don't stop needing your blood pressure pills unless you take those concrete steps to change your lifestyle, and turn your health around.  To condemn the treatment for not being a cure doesn't make a lot of sense.  You take the pills, and then you try to improve your overall health.

Well, I did say that the "costumed crimefighting" aspect is a a necessary piece of the modern and contemporary crimefighting schema Moore is pushing. It's not an either/or thing. The "problem" with most traditional superhero stories is that it focuses solely on that aspect, which is okay for young readers and adult readers looking for simple entertainment, but is a creative hindrance when it comes to writing something with more substance and sophistication.

Quote from: Talavar on March 11, 2009, 06:10:43 AMHe's written a story that doesn't need superheros

I agree with you here, and it's another one of the perceived flaws (which you may or may not share) I ascribe to the narrative aspects book, and that I've discussed at some length in this thread. The internal logic of the main plot and most of the subplots is solid and consistent, no doubt, but I fear it doesn't stand up to more rigid critical scrutiny, in my mind.

But as I've maintained, the main draw of the book for me has always been the more technical aspects of its creation and construction (which remain unparalleled in contemporary comics, I feel), and not so much the themes associated with its story or the story itself (purely a matter of subjective taste, of course).

A great exercise is to read Larry Hama's 1989 Nth Man (http://www.geocities.com/jhaeman/Comics/nthman.html) maxi-series after reading Watchmen. Hama tackles some of the same themes (albeit in a much much less sophisticated manner) and he arrives at many of the same conclusions as Moore while providing his own unique insights contrary to some of the ones Moore popularized in Watchmen, but in a context that's much more agreeable to my personal sensibilities (that's basically just me saying that I felt Nth Man was a more "fun" read... but then again, I'm a sucker for comic book ninja action).

I appreciate your points, Z. My point about Ozymandias is that his purposes are traditionally "liberal" -- to help the great mass of people achieve peaceful, decent lives -- but that he is willing to kill millions in order to do that. He is a committed teleologist, justifying any number of murders as long as they serve the greater good, while Rorschach is an equally committed deontologist, who will remain true to his idea of universal moral law though hell should bar the way. And the Comedian is a fascist, contemptuous of ethics and wedded to pure power, whether expressed in murder for amusement or what he did to Silk Spectre.  That's why, unlike the others, the Comedian sickens me, for the most part. I imagine Ozymandias enjoyed doing what he did to him.

By the way, I regard Ozymandias as a kind of Captain Nemo -- a supremely arrogant and powerful but well-intentioned individualist who believes he can solve the world's problems by himself, and decides to do so. One of the interesting facets of "Watchmen" was the delicious hash it makes of the hero/villain dichotomy in melodrama. Super heroes and monsters are two sides of the same coin, and both are entirely dependent on an outside point of view.
When the magnificent Marvelman reappears in Moore's earlier work, the military's grim response is "The monsters are back."

I can't remember where I read it, or who said it (Jules Pheiffer, maybe?), but it was more or less that comic book/strip heroes (not only the "super" ones) are basically modern myths. Some stories give you something to aspire to, others are cautionary tales, some are told merely to give you a thrill. If you don't think that some of those early mytholizers weren't trying to please an audience, you weren't paying attention.
Comic books and strips weren't originally "for kids", pretty much as most entertainment was for general audiences (watch Warner Brothers cartoons from the 1940s, and look for the adult references; my favorite: "If only the Hayes Office would let me, I'd give him the boid"). More "adult" stuff and more "kid" friendly stuff was available, and usually the advertising and publicity was sufficient to let people know which was which. But... did newsdealers keep the Spicy line under the counter by choice, or was that a requirement? Anyway, adults followed Dick Tracy, Little Orphan Annie, Li'l Abner, Popeye, Major Hoople, and Maggie and Jiggs same as kids. The same was probably true of Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman (lots of bondage and fetish images there), Captain America, The Human Torch, and so on. Comics didn't become exclusivley for "kids" until after Fredric Wertham had his day (Did you know that he attacked SF fandom too? BIG mistake).

The Watchmen series was basically an "anti-myth", with Moore telling the tale of what might really have happened if there had been super-heroes, given that human beings are human. Supers DID change the world they lived in, in a lot of small and large ways: the whole society was the result of there having been costumed crimefighters and one super-being. They just didn't make it a Utopia, which was what Ozymandias was trying to do. Funny; so many of the characters in the book are idealists: Rorschak, Ozzy, both Nite Owls...

One odd note: in the comic Ozzy killed his servants so they couldn't betray him, but he didn't kill Nite Owl Silk Specte, or Rorschak. Why? He treid to kill Dr. Manhattan, because Dr. M was a possible threat to his plan, but did he think that NO and SS would see things his way? Need to re-read that section again.  

Side note: Watched "V for Vendetta" recently; can't recall seeing Alan Moore's name anywhere.

Quote from: danhagen on March 11, 2009, 02:43:54 PMOne of the interesting facets of "Watchmen" was the delicious hash it makes of the hero/villain dichotomy in melodrama.

The moral ambiguity Moore offers up in Watchmen is perhaps one of his more important contributions to the superhero comics medium. Certainly, other writers have created well-meaning but ethically and morally conflicted popular superheroes before him (most of them from pre-1985 Marvel), but it was Moore who crystallized and fully realized the concept in a way that transcended Chris Claremont's very entertaining but ultimately shallow X-Men soap opera or Stan Lee's Spider-Man, which was an almost parodic take on the monomythical Internal Conflict.

Quote from: daglob on March 11, 2009, 03:17:14 PMI can't remember where I read it, or who said it (Jules Pheiffer, maybe?), but it was more or less that comic book/strip heroes (not only the "super" ones) are basically modern myths.

Ooooh... I very much disagree with the notion that comic strip/book stories serve as modern myths (it's one of those things that seems to make sense when you first hear it, but quickly falls apart upon further examination), but I think that's a discussion that probably deserves its own thread. Let me just say that comic strips/books, historically, have never fulfilled the same social role and significance as the classical myths, traditional fables, and narrative legends that some people seem compelled to compare them to. 

I think a parallel can be drawn between superhero stories and various types of legends/folktales.  I don't mean creation myths, myths and legends that were attempts at explaining why the world is the way it is, but the equivalents of King Arthur & his knights of the Round Table legends, or Robin Hood, Jason & the Argonauts, some of Hercules' stories, etc.

A lot of these characters had series of adventures made up by various people over long periods of time, often with little regard for established "continuity."  Many of the characters had special powers, and the stories got retold and added to because people knew and enjoyed the characters.  A lot of legends and stories about King Arthur & his knights are basically the first fan fiction, for example.

I've discussed this before but I dont see comics as modern myth since people dont really believe in any of it, I'm sure those few pagan Thor believers dont envision the Marvel Comics version. But as Fables they are perfect, good people punish bad people in hypothetical morality plays facilitated by super powers, time travel and crazy inventions.

Watchmen divorces the characters from any form of Karma and any evil deeds done remain on the ledger at the end, never trully redeemed.

Quote from: Talavar on March 11, 2009, 06:49:00 PM
I think a parallel can be drawn between superhero stories and various types of legends/folktales.  I don't mean creation myths, myths and legends that were attempts at explaining why the world is the way it is, but the equivalents of King Arthur & his knights of the Round Table legends, or Robin Hood, Jason & the Argonauts, some of Hercules' stories, etc.

A lot of these characters had series of adventures made up by various people over long periods of time, often with little regard for established "continuity."  Many of the characters had special powers, and the stories got retold and added to because people knew and enjoyed the characters.

I agree with most of what you're saying here, but, as something of an amateur Arthurian scholar, I had to seperate this part out;
 

Quote from: Talavar on March 11, 2009, 06:49:00 PMA lot of legends and stories about King Arthur & his knights are basically the first fan fiction, for example.

I would disagree with this on two levels; first of all, there were plenty of intentionally-fictional adaptations of mythological and legendary figure long before the Arthurian legends. Much of what we think we know about Greek mythology, for example, comes from intentionally-fictional accounts by Greek authors and poets, utilizing characters and (sometimes) situations from existing myths to tell their own stories. Secondly, in order for something to qualify as "fan fiction", I think there needs to be an "official version" to contrast it to. While people nowadays tend to think of Sir Thomas Mallory's version of the Arthurian legends somewhat that way, it wasn't so regarded until the 19th century, and hadn't even been written when most of the Medieval Arthurian stories were written. There really was no "official", "correct", or "cannon" version of the Arthurian legends- and, if those legends were originally based on any kind of reality, that reality had been mostly forgotten by the time the earliest versions still existing were written.

Quote from: lugaru on March 11, 2009, 06:58:32 PM
I've discussed this before but I dont see comics as modern myth since people dont really believe in any of it, I'm sure those few pagan Thor believers dont envision the Marvel Comics version. But as Fables they are perfect, good people punish bad people in hypothetical morality plays facilitated by super powers, time travel and crazy inventions.

That's a common misconception about myths- that people had to have believed in them. There are plenty of stories included in most books on mythology that have known fictional literary sources- the story of the theft of Thor's hammer, for example, was composed in Iceland in Christian times. There are many more such stories where we have no idea whether they were actually believed. Joseph Campbell, in one of his books, talked about a tribe in Africa where a distinction was made between the gods as actually believed in, and as they appeared in the stories the people told, which were considered pure entertainment.

As to whether comic books are a form of modern mythology, I think it's a complex question. Certainly, a strong case could be made that, during certain time periods (such as the '40 or the '70s), they did in part serve that function. There are certainly fictional characters who I would consider to have entered into a kind of mythic level of societal consciousness, such as Sherlock Holmes, Tarzan, James Bond, Godzilla, Lassie, Dracula, etc. I would certainly put both Superman and Batman on that list, in which case those comic books featuring one or both could be seen as tales of mythological characters, whithin the culture those cahracters belong to, and therefore, as myths, themselves.

Quote

Quote from: daglob on March 11, 2009, 03:17:14 PMI can't remember where I read it, or who said it (Jules Pheiffer, maybe?), but it was more or less that comic book/strip heroes (not only the "super" ones) are basically modern myths.

Ooooh... I very much disagree with the notion that comic strip/book stories serve as modern myths (it's one of those things that seems to make sense when you first hear it, but quickly falls apart upon further examination), but I think that's a discussion that probably deserves its own thread. Let me just say that comic strips/books, historically, have never fulfilled the same social role and significance as the classical myths, traditional fables, and narrative legends that some people seem compelled to compare them to. 

And I aggree that they don't serve the function of the original myths and legends. We have progressed beyond that. We haven't progressed beyond the need to make up tall tales and tell them to people to make them laugh, cry, think, dream, forget, or just marvel at our skill. Nor have we progressed beyond the need to hear these tall tales. I hope we never do.

It's funny to go back and read stories from the '50s and '60s, and see how simplistic and one-sided each character's view is. Batman may have the most complex view. They do things and never (or at least very, very seldom) think of any consequences. But, then again, they ALWAYS make the correct decision, without agonizing over it for several pages.

There are certainly fictional characters who I would consider to have entered into a kind of mythic level of societal consciousness, such as Sherlock Holmes, Tarzan, James Bond, Godzilla, Lassie, Dracula, etc. I would certainly put both Superman and Batman on that list, in which case those comic books featuring one or both could be seen as tales of mythological characters, whithin the culture those cahracters belong to, and therefore, as myths, themselves.
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I would view them as memes, concepts that have taken on a life of their own to become self-perpetuating. Like genetic information, the ideas evolve to fit changing environmental circumstances -- thus, for example, the tough socialist reformer Superman of the Depression becomes the conflicted, well-meaning teenager Clark Kent in "Smallville." Batman battled child pornographers in one incarnation, and met a talking cartoon dog in another. The New Sherlock Holmes will be gay. Bond was now a child during the cold war, not one of its foremost secret agents. Tarzan went from turn-of-the-century pulp action with a Victorian sensibility to Disney blandness. The same character, and not the same character.
Not even the corporations that "own" these characters control the transcendent memes, which exist in the minds of the public.

Quote from: danhagen on March 11, 2009, 09:51:40 PM
There are certainly fictional characters who I would consider to have entered into a kind of mythic level of societal consciousness, such as Sherlock Holmes, Tarzan, James Bond, Godzilla, Lassie, Dracula, etc. I would certainly put both Superman and Batman on that list, in which case those comic books featuring one or both could be seen as tales of mythological characters, whithin the culture those cahracters belong to, and therefore, as myths, themselves.
----
I would view them as memes, concepts that have taken on a life of their own to become self-perpetuating. Like genetic information, the ideas evolve to fit changing environmental circumstances -- thus, for example, the tough socialist reformer Superman of the Depression becomes the conflicted, well-meaning teenager Clark Kent in "Smallville." Batman battled child pornographers in one incarnation, and met a talking cartoon dog in another. The New Sherlock Holmes will be gay. Bond was now a child during the cold war, not one of its foremost secret agents. Tarzan went from turn-of-the-century pulp action with a Victorian sensibility to Disney blandness. The same character, and not the same character.
Not even the corporations that "own" these characters control the transcendent memes, which exist in the minds of the public.

How is that different than ancient myth?  Any unit of cultural information is a meme, according to Dawkins' definition (if I recall correctly), and the heroes of yore are certainly similar in that sense.  In fact, I'd say that King Arthur, Robin Hood, et cetera are even more thoroughly defined and developed memes than, say, Batman because the "successful" interpretations of the characters (how well they are received and thus passed down through the meme pool) are more limited.  You CAN write a wacky, silly King Arthur and still have it be successful (Monty Python the the Holy Grail, for instance,) but nobody confuses that with the "real" Arthurian mythos. But Adam West's Batman remains the definition of the Dark Knight for some people, despite all the fanboy love for a darker, grittier Caped Crusader. That meme survived because people enjoyed it, and it worked because the concept of Batman could sretch enough to include it (although stretching is a poor term, since I'd argue that the concept has to also stretch to accomodate ANY version, including the realism of the Nolanverse or the gothic darkness of Grant Morrison's Arkham Asylum.  But that's beside the point).

I wonder if in a couple centuries' time, Batman will be as rigidly defined as, say, Odysseus is now...

First off, I want to thank the people who've contributed their thoughts to this thread. This is the type of comic book discussion that one hardly gets over in other boards or blogs without the inevitable "You suck! No, You suck!" back and forth that's endemic in comics fandom.

Secondly, maybe I should re-title this thread and make it a general comic discussion thread seeing as how we're drifting away from the original topic and maybe get more people interested in participating?

And finally, my thoughts on the whole "comics are modern myths" topic:

One thing that many people seem to miss when attempting to draw parallels between comics and classical myths is the medium of transmission. Comics are a product of the post-industrial age, and as such, are different from classical myths in all the ways that all post-industrial mass media is different from pre-industrial media (instead of digressing, I'll instead refer those interested to Marshall McLuhan's Understanding Media (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Understanding_Media)).

Do comic book superheroes tap into the same Jungian archetypes that myths and fables tap into? I would say yes, but no more than any other form of modern literature or mass media narrative entertainment. And that's if you subscribe to Jung's theories, and by extension, Joseph Campbell's, regarding the existence of psychological archetypes in fiction (personally, I think the archetype model lacks evidential rigor... it's a good literary heuristic, but hardly set in stone).

And even if we take for granted that the superhero type is a direct descendant of Jungian archetypes allegedly inherent in myth, there is still the matter of a different social utility and function. The superhero's creation, at least in part, was motivated by commercial concerns. It is a product (in every sense of the word) of the commercial art era, equal parts commodity and creative endeavour. Myths retain their saliency and cultural currency across time whether or not a market exists for them, while the relevance of superheroes rise and fall with consumer interest. It is a common mistake, I think, particularly in today's media-saturated era, to confuse commerce and its products with culture and its artifacts (or perhaps we have finally reached the sad point in our societal development where culture and commerce have become inextricable from each other... "We are what we buy!").

Quote from: zuludelta on March 11, 2009, 11:53:33 PM
First off, I want to thank the people who've contributed their thoughts to this thread. This is the type of comic book discussion that one hardly gets over in other boards or blogs without the inevitable "You suck! No, You suck!" back and forth that's endemic in comics fandom.

Secondly, maybe I should re-title this thread and make it a general comic discussion thread seeing as how we're drifting away from the original topic and maybe get more people interested in participating?

Sure, go nuts.

QuoteAnd even if we take for granted that the superhero type is a direct descendant of Jungian archetypes allegedly inherent in myth, there is still the matter of a different social utility and function. The superhero's creation, at least in part, was motivated by commercial concerns. It is a product (in every sense of the word) of the commercial art era, equal parts commodity and creative endeavour. Myths retain their saliency and cultural currency across time whether or not a market exists for them, while the relevance of superheroes rise and fall with consumer interest. It is a common mistake, I think, particularly in today's media-saturated era, to confuse commerce and its products with culture and its artifacts.

Ooh. Excellent point. I hadn't considered that...although, I suppose our culture is so thoroughly market-driven that commerce becomes culture. What do we make the basis of our popular culture that doesn't require money? That isn't a commodity? Films? No, you need a ticket at the very least. Television? Radio? What do we use to transmit culture nowadays, since we don't have oral storytelling for free? Well, we do, but we don't have such a massive reliance on it like humanity used to.

I plan on doing a lot of international volunteer work after college, and one of the things I've considered is teaching impoverished people basic education. If I wind up incorporating storytelling into my life (not a big leap), I would most certainly tell people about Superman, Batman and the like. What would occur then? Do they transcend the commodity/cultural artifact divide?

Perhaps it is too much of a leap to say that superheroes are our modern mythology, but it isn't a stretch to say that they've become thoroughly entrenched in our culture. If DC shot through the tubes, Superman would still exist. People would still tell stories about him. Heck, they'd probably tell MORE stories because they wouldn't have to worry about legal ramifications. He and his ilk would become even more prominent and pervasive.

So perhaps the desire to make a buck off of characters like these actually limits their potential as mythological culture carriers. Once you begin to limit a character's transmission to only a select number of venues which you alone control (hypothetically, of course; hello, BitTorrent!), you limit the ability of the myth to reach people. Not everyone has a couple bucks for comics nowadays. But then again, kids will still tie a blanket to their necks and jump off wagons pretending to beat up Lex Luthor.

Quote from: Gremlin on March 12, 2009, 12:17:27 AMOoh. Excellent point. I hadn't considered that...although, I suppose our culture is so thoroughly market-driven that commerce becomes culture.

And that's ultimately what I think distinguishes superheroes from myth. Classical myths originated in an era when narrative "entertainment" was hardly a commercial concern. In a sense, they were "pure" distillates of cultural self-identification.

Superhero design may have been derived from and informed by mythological archetypes, but they are at least a level removed from myth because of their primacy as products of commerce. If the market for DC or Marvel comics and their associated licensed products dries up, there's a good chance that Superman and Captain America will lose their relevance in a relatively brief amount of time, the same way that people now hardly know of Jack Harkaway or Sexton Blake (two of the most famous literary creations of the 19th century, featured prominently in "penny dreadfuls" -- serial novels that in many ways, presaged 20th century comics).     

Quote from: Gremlin on March 12, 2009, 12:17:27 AM
I plan on doing a lot of international volunteer work after college, and one of the things I've considered is teaching impoverished people basic education. If I wind up incorporating storytelling into my life (not a big leap), I would most certainly tell people about Superman, Batman and the like. What would occur then? Do they transcend the commodity/cultural artifact divide?

A good question. It depends on whether or not the specific concept of a "Batman" or a "Flash" or a "Wolverine" can survive and maintain its relevance separate from its commercial identity as a "comic book character" (or more precisely these days, a "licensed character") and there's really no way to tell until it actually happens, although as I mentioned in my previous post citing the once-popular Jack Harkaway penny-dreadful novels as an example, commercial literary creations closely associated with a particular form of media rarely survive the decline of their means of transmission and make the transition to cultural artifact.   

Quote from: zuludelta on March 12, 2009, 12:54:26 AM
And that's ultimately what I think distinguishes superheroes from myth. Classical myths originated in an era when narrative "entertainment" was hardly a commercial concern. In a sense, they were "pure" distillates of cultural self-identification.

Superhero design may have been derived from and informed by mythological archetypes, but they are at least a level removed from myth because of their primacy as products of commerce. If the market for DC or Marvel comics and their associated licensed products dries up, there's a good chance that Superman and Captain America will lose their relevance in a relatively brief amount of time, the same way that people now hardly know of Jack Harkaway or Sexton Blake (two of the most famous literary creations of the 19th century, featured prominently in "penny dreadfuls" -- serial novels that in many ways, presaged 20th century comics).     

But were the myths and stories ever "pure?"  People telling them always had motivations, whether it was espousing a philosophy, getting converts for a religion - which then leads to financial contributions - or even just the bard or poet paying for his meal.  Art and storytelling has regularly served another, secondary purpose, or been made to serve one.

I personally think Superman (and a small number of other characters, definitely not most superheros though) will survive his medium of origin, unlike creations of the 19th century, because he's already made the jump into multiple mediums - animation, films, TV, video games, & books.  To know, I guess we're going to have to wait and see what happens when Superman becomes public domain (which isn't that far off for his initial versions, if I understand copyright correctly).

I wonder if in a couple centuries' time, Batman will be as rigidly defined as, say, Odysseus is now...
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But is Odysseus rigidly defined now? I'd say he stretches at least from Armand Assante to James Joyce. Myths and memes seem to have a remarkable capacity to stretch with the times and yet retain their cultural/psychological outlines.

Quote from: Talavar on March 12, 2009, 02:59:53 AM
But were the myths and stories ever "pure?"  People telling them always had motivations, whether it was espousing a philosophy, getting converts for a religion - which then leads to financial contributions - or even just the bard or poet paying for his meal.  Art and storytelling has regularly served another, secondary purpose, or been made to serve one.

As I mentioned previously, the commodified nature of the superhero (and to a larger extent, all narrative mass media) makes all the difference between them and classical myth and storytelling.

It's no coincidence that creation myths and fables originated (and are still being created) in pre-industrial societies. Functionally, classical myths have served to parse complex ideas and historical events into easily transmissible, self-contained narrative allegories. Sure, they were also meant to be entertainment and a diversion, but first and foremost, myths were a means by which pre-industrial societies could preserve their history and contextualize their metaphysical and philosophical concerns.

Industrialization has changed much of that. Higher standards of education, spreading literacy, the development of print and new modes of communication have made it so that there is no need for the shaman or the oracle or the high priest to interpret and recontextualize the world into myth for us. Superheroes and the comics, toys, and video games they are associated with are commodified entertainment, a by-product of the industrialization of print, and they are as close to serving the original purpose of myth as Days Of Our Lives and Monday Night Football.

Our modern day shamans and oracles aren't the Alan Moores or the Grant Morrisons of the comics world (as much as I like their comics), and Superman and Captain America aren't 20th century variations on Hercules or Odysseus. Industrialization and education have made the shaman irrelevant, replaced by the entertainer.

The true modern-day "myths" and "heroes" of our times are the idealized versions of J.F.K., Che Guevarra, Mahatma Gandhi, Noam Chomsky, Nelson Mandela, etc. that populate our textbooks, news programs, and shared recent history and continue to be relevant beyond trifling entertainment and pop culture, and continue to shape society's notions of right and wrong, and whose lives and achievements (embellished or not) serve as the filters through which we view our past and imagine our future.   

Wow, this has remained an absolutely fascinating discussion.  I'm afraid that the conversation has moved on past the point in which I could relevantly insert my ideas...but I won't let that stop me.  However, I will address the current topic first.

To question whether comics are modern myths is, in part, to drawn your lines of demarcation a little too thinly.  Let's take the word "myth" in broader literary terms rather than as a genre.  I'm solidly in the Archetypal camp, and I'm rather curious as to what you mean, ZD, when you say you think the theory doesn't have rigor.  Mind you, I"m getting my Jung and Campbell second hand through Frye, so that may be an issue.  I find the theory perfectly suited to criticism, and most critiques of it don't take into account the flexibility, which was so vital to Frye.  The more I read and the more I study, the more obvious it becomes to me that we are all telling the same stories.  The connections are everywhere when you start paying attention.  So, what does this have to do with a literary definition of "myth?"  Frye divides literature and characters (not meant to be a hard and fast distinction, just a guideline) by the power of action resident in the protagonist.  That is to say, the types of things that he or she can do.  He describes the first such division in Anatomy of Criticism as follows:

"If superior in kind both to other men and to the environment of other men, the hero is a divine being, and the story about him will be a myth in the common sense of a story about a god" (33).  

Now this certainly seems to fit a world with super powered beings, although an argument could also be made for the stories about some heroes (like Batman, Green Arrow, or the like) to be classified as romances (in the literary sense, not the emotional one), which Frye also describes:

"If superior in degree to other men and to his environment the hero is the typical hero of romance, whose actions are marvelous but who is himself identified as a human being.  The hero of romance moves in a world in which the ordinary laws of nature are slightly suspended: prodigies of courage and endurance, unnatural to us, are natural to him, and enchanted weapons, talking animals, terrifying ogers and witches, and talismans of miraculous power violate no rule of probability once the postulates of romance have been established" (33).

Really, most superheroes likely fall more into the category of romance, and this is where Frye himself places them (although, this was in the 1960's), but I believe that, given the shared universes full of super powered beings now established, the term of myth is appropriate enough.  As you can see, traditionally the literary usage of the term in conjunction with Archetype theory is completely independent of any cultural belief in the stories or characters.

Frye levels many of the same claims that ZD and others at the traditional comic (or any type of "romance") story, stating that they are wish fulfillment fiction at their core.  He also provides some fascinating insight into their proletarian role that I won't get into.  Obviously, Watchmen is important because it is one of the first works that breaks that mold, but it seems that ground has already been tread pretty well.

What I've been chewing on in relation to the Watchmen is the nature of heroism in a postmodern world.  Moore presents his world with his "regular" people who fight crime for their own various reasons, and I am another who sees something important missing from that catalog.  However, I don't think it is guilt.  For me, what's missing is altruism, and obviously Moore's text wouldn't have worked if there had been a truly altruistic character present.  I can accept that, but I feel the lack rather keenly.  The story works beautifully as what it is, and I'm not one of those who finds fault with either the form or the plot.  Instead, I think Watchmen tells an old story in one of the few worthwhile new ways found in the last century.  Since Kafka we've been repeating the story of alienation and the loss of objective foundation endlessly.  The Center is no longer holding, but it's failure has ceased to be news.  This is, incidentally, one of my biggest problems with what passes for postmodern literature, but I'll try and stay on topic.  Instead of seeing a story about the onset of relativism and the alienation which follows, we see one geared specifically to the question of heroism in such circumstances.  I think that is important, and although I stand in diametric opposition to Moore's conclusions on the surface, he there is truth if one digs a little deeper.

ZD, you observed that Rorshach is the only one who holds on to an inflexible moral code, and that is true.  However, he is perfectly aware of the fact that his code is arbitrary, at best an illusion.  For him that means that he has to fight all the harder to impose it upon the world, but in the end he has the same understanding that all of the other characters come to or start with.  That is, of course, that the old order has faded away, and the myths (in another sense, of concrete ideas, beliefs, and values) that formed the foundation of society had crumbled into nothingness.  In their place was the relativist vacum, waiting to be filled with castles of sand.  

The epiphany I had the other day tied into both of my current projects, although at the time I only saw the connections to one.  I mentioned the paper I'm presenting at the ICFA (next week actually!) about "Astro City: Confessions," but I am also writing my thesis this semester.  My thesis is about Alfred Tennyson's Idylls of the King, in which the titular king has long been misunderstood.  He's been regarded as weak and unheroic, and my approach is to show that his heroism exists in creating order and insisting on certainty in an uncertain world.  We live in a world in which the Platonic Ideal, if it does exist, is inaccessible, unprovable.  Still, some of us have faith in things that provide a set of "myths" that give us traction in the world.  It is Arthur's faith, in the face of the uncertainty that exists before his reign, and that grows during it, that makes him heroic.  What makes him tragic is his inability to face the uncertainty represented by Guinevere's betrayal, and therefore unable to work through it and restore the faith of his court.  

Still, this same theme is repeated in "Confessions," in which the various heroes pursue their own conceptions of justice in the face of a changing cultural environment, once more holding on to their faith (literally and figuratively) amidst a rising tide of uncertainty.  While Rorshach has a code but no faith, his "heroic" acts are hollow (in addition to his questionable motivations, but his final acts could still be seen as significantly more heroic if they were not undermined by his own lack of belief).  This is, in essence, what I'm arguing in both of my papers (unintentionally) that heroism, met on its own terms, creates a myth by its presence, and thereby an objective foundation of sorts.  I'm defining heroism, true heroism as distinct from that exhibited by the characters in Watchmen, as self-sacrifice in an altruistic pursuit.  Interestingly enough both of these stories serve as (in my opinion, I'd have to do more work to be sure) a response to tides of uncertainty in their various times.  Idylls was written in the late Victorian period, when uncertainty and instability were rampant, and in many ways is a response to the questions of faith, power, and destiny current at that time.  In the same way, "Confessions" is a tale that opposes the self-reflexive and self-destructive (in the sense of the characters) current in superhero comics that descends from Watchmen.

:EDIT: ZD, I would argue that superhero comics do indeed shape ideas about about morality and justice, albeit traditionally on a juvenile level.  Frye actually notes it as a way in which the dominate culture enforces and protects their ideals, while at the same time the stories themselves constantly search for something more pure, more (dare I say it?) archetypal.

Very interesting thoughts Benton. You'll forgive me if I don't go in-depth into your assertions... they are very eloquently and intelligently argued, but whatever differences I might have with you concerning them are rooted in my own subjective preferences, and as they say, there's no accounting for taste, so I'll cut off what could become a tedious (for everybody else reading this thread anyway) circular back-and-forth before it starts.

Quote from: BentonGrey on March 12, 2009, 05:03:03 AMI'm rather curious as to what you mean, ZD, when you say you think the theory doesn't have rigor.  Mind you, I"m getting my Jung and Campbell second hand through Frye, so that may be an issue.

I say that the theory of Jungian archetypes lacks rigor because it fails Popper's criteria of falsifiability. It makes inductive post-dictions, but has not demonstrated the ability to make deductive predictions.

I'm not saying that Jung's observations are "wrong,", but the generalization he derives from them, in my mind, is an invalid inference that doesn't stand up to formal logical scrutiny.

I guess it works as an "informal" theory in literature and popular psychology, but as a scientific one, it leaves much to be desired.

I'd like to make a brief detour to consider the point made earlier about Superheroes being  commercial, or "commodified", and this marking a dividing line between them and classical myths and storytelling.
I think that storytelling has always been as much a commercial enterprise as any other human activity. Bards, Jesters, Priests, Skalds were all "jobs" wherein the people singing the songs and telling the tales earned a living by doing so.
In our specialized, post-industrial world, we all tend to only do one type of job, which can lend the appearance to something like writing that it done as a commercial activity solely, without any other motivations. This ignores the legions of amateur writers and artists, some of whom hope to earn money, but most just enjoy it.
To argue that there is a significant difference between, say, King Arthur, and Batman, on the grounds that Batman has appeared in a medium that is paid for is, I think, a false distinction. Any book recounting the tales of King Arthur will cost you money. And always would have done. If the tales were oral before ever being written down, the people who told them would have derived something for the telling. Perhaps not money, but social standing, or acceptance, or respect. These are a form of currency too.

Even the distinction of duration (that Batman has only been around 60-70 years as opposed to centuries or millenia old myths) can be diluted a bit if you consider the strange compression of human history and cultures that has occurred over the last few thousand years, and especially over the last two hundred. The time was that human science and culture changed very little for century or eon long periods. A person would essentially live the same kind of life as their ancestors, and hear the same stories. But our lives bear little relation to those of our parents, and very very little relation to our grandparents. The amount of "culture" and information we are exposed to would have filled perhaps a thousand years worth of our ancestors lives. So in some ways a comic book hero surviving for 70 years in the turbulent modern era is almost as impressive as Robin Hood or Hercules surviving centuries of little change. In fact, the "classical" myths and stories are faring as poorly in modern times as any contemporary tales, as they all have to compete with a huge flood of entertainment for people with short attention spans. In 50 years time, Apollo or Charlemagne may well mean less to humanity than Blue Beetle or Ben 10.

The true modern-day "myths" and "heroes" of our times are the idealized versions of J.F.K., Che Guevarra, Mahatma Gandhi, Noam Chomsky, Nelson Mandela, etc. that populate our textbooks, news programs, and shared recent history and continue to be relevant beyond trifling entertainment and pop culture, and continue to shape society's notions of right and wrong, and whose lives and achievements (embellished or not) serve as the filters through which we view our past and imagine our future.
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I'm not so sure. I know university students who know virtually nothing about the people you mention. But their moral stance is certainly informed by Batman. So it's arguable which is the more powerful myth. Yes, the super heroes are commercial, but EVERYTHING in American society is commercial, including religion and politics.

For me, what's missing is altruism, and obviously Moore's text wouldn't have worked if there had been a truly altruistic character present.
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I'd say Ozymandius is an altruistic character, and that his supremely arrogant altruism leads to a horror -- or is it a necessary horror, as he would argue? Dan is another altruistic character, on a uncertain, human scale.

Quote from: danhagen on March 12, 2009, 01:31:41 PM
For me, what's missing is altruism, and obviously Moore's text wouldn't have worked if there had been a truly altruistic character present.
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I'd say Ozymandius is an altruistic character, and that his supremely arrogant altruism leads to a horror -- or is it a necessary horror, as he would argue? Dan is another altruistic character, on a uncertain, human scale.

You know, when I finished typing my post I thought about clarifying what I meant by altruism, but decided that sleep was more important. ^_^  Well, you certainly found the hole I left open quite nicely Danhagen!  Yes, Ozy is altruistic in a sense, as he isn't doing what he's doing because he's desperate for power or the like.  This is where my definition of heroism comes into play, because the true nature of heroism is to sacrifice of yourself, not force others to do so, and that is the real difference between Ozy and Arthur.  Dan, on his end...well he's a bit more interesting, isn't he?  He has some altruistic tendencies, but so much of his costumed identity flows from that whole adolescent power fantasy that it is hard to say exactly what comes from where.  I'd say he is the character who has the most positive journey in the story, and he is probably the one CLOSEST to heroism, but his decision at the end colors all else.

ZD, thanks, I have been thinking about these things quite a bit.  Please feel free to respond to whatever interests you...everyone else can get over it! ;)  Seriously though, your response is perfectly reasonable, and I suppose that is the catch.  We are approaching the question from different sides, yours being the factual, mine being the philosophical, to speak in broad terms.  I am quite comfortable dealing with unquantifiable, so the scientific shortcomings of Jung's theories don't really trouble me.  If it were scientifically verifiable, well, it probably wouldn't be of as much use to the humanities.

Tommy makes a good point about the commercialization of comic characters, but something else to consider is that, depending on how you define a certain character, there may be noble aims behind them despite their money-colored origin.  For example, if you've ever read Jack Kirby's comments on his creations, or even Stan Lee....well they believe they are doing something more important than just selling comic books.  Spider-Man means something, Captain America means something, and so on.

Quote from: tommyboy on March 12, 2009, 01:15:19 PMIn our specialized, post-industrial world, we all tend to only do one type of job, which can lend the appearance to something like writing that it done as a commercial activity solely, without any other motivations.

Well, that sort of speaks to my point... the industrialized and specialized nature of modern society has essentially created a "need" for commercial art (of which comics is but a small part of), a "need" that was virtually non-existent prior to industrialization and the development of mass media. Again, I'm approaching this argument informed by McLuhan's ideas on media, and I regret that I am not articulate and eloquent enough to get those ideas across in a way that emphasizes just how huge the difference between pre and post-industrialization media is (and I'd rather not risk accidentally misrepresenting those ideas with my own clumsy rhetoric).   

Quote from: tommyboy on March 12, 2009, 01:15:19 PMThis ignores the legions of amateur writers and artists, some of whom hope to earn money, but most just enjoy it.

So far, when I've spoken of superheroes in this thread, I've intended it to mean the more popular and successful ones such as Captain America, Batman, Superman, etc. But now that you mention them, I think the superheroes created by amateur writers and artists motivated by a desire to re-contextualize their own metaphysical concerns do have much more in common with the classical myths than Spider-Man et al. Great point. But another feature of a myth is its widespread cultural currency, and I don't know if these "amateur" superheroes have that.

Quote from: danhagen on March 12, 2009, 01:26:36 PM
The true modern-day "myths" and "heroes" of our times are the idealized versions of J.F.K., Che Guevarra, Mahatma Gandhi, Noam Chomsky, Nelson Mandela, etc. that populate our textbooks, news programs, and shared recent history and continue to be relevant beyond trifling entertainment and pop culture, and continue to shape society's notions of right and wrong, and whose lives and achievements (embellished or not) serve as the filters through which we view our past and imagine our future.
----
I'm not so sure. I know university students who know virtually nothing about the people you mention. But their moral stance is certainly informed by Batman. So it's arguable which is the more powerful myth. Yes, the super heroes are commercial, but EVERYTHING in American society is commercial, including religion and politics.

With your emphasizing of American society's (and I suppose "Western" society's) rootedness in the commercial, I think I'm beginning to understand why I hold such a strong distinction between commercially-motivated fantastical narratives ("storytelling as commerce") and "classical" myths ("storytelling as part of an embedded cultural tradition"). I grew up in a community that not only perpetuated "classical" myths (what are called alamat (http://folktales.webmanila.com/) in the Philippine vernacular), but one that still actively generated new "classical" style myths. Not exactly a pre-industrial community, but one that was far less exposed to mass media than most Western communities and one that still maintained some semblance of a pre-industrial oral tradition. The alamat (http://folktales.webmanila.com/) inhabited a cultural space between (but separate from) religion and commercial entertainment (which included radio, TV, and yes, comics). I think that experience is colouring how I see superheroes.

Quote from: BentonGrey on March 12, 2009, 04:14:06 PM
Tommy makes a good point about the commercialization of comic characters, but something else to consider is that, depending on how you define a certain character, there may be noble aims behind them despite their money-colored origin.  For example, if you've ever read Jack Kirby's comments on his creations, or even Stan Lee....well they believe they are doing something more important than just selling comic books.  Spider-Man means something, Captain America means something, and so on.

Great points. But I have to wonder, as these creators become more and more distanced from their creations and the decisions regarding how these characters are utilized and developed become more allied with commercial and licensing concerns, if Stan Lee and Jack Kirby's original intentions will eventually become moot.   

That was exactly what I meant by pointing out the importance of how you define the characters.  Is Captain America what he is now, or is he what he was envisioned to be by Kirby and Simon?  Being old fashioned, I tend to believe that there is a "truth" in these characters that exists independently of how they may be portrayed today.

Quote from: BentonGrey on March 12, 2009, 08:20:22 PMIs Captain America what he is now, or is he what he was envisioned to be by Kirby and Simon?  Being old fashioned, I tend to believe that there is a "truth" in these characters that exists independently of how they may be portrayed today.

That is certainly one way to look at it. But I don't know if I agree with it. Siegel & Shuster's Superman, as an example, started out in the 1930s as a "tough socialist reformer" (as danhagen so succintly put it in a prior post) who was as likely to let a corrupt businessman fall to his death as he was to foil a bank robbery (a reflection, perhaps, of the popular backlash against business owners in the wake of the Great Depression?). I think many people today would probably consider Mort Weisinger's, Julius Schwartz', or even John Byrne's Superman as the "true" representation of the character.

My view (and this is another thing that helps differentiate superheroes from classical myth, to me, at least) is that superheroes have always been much more flexible in how they've been portrayed. It is a function of their status as creative endeavours that double as commercial "products" that have to maintain their marketability. Early Superman was a post-Depression working class socialist icon who did to corrupt entrepreneurs what the man on the street could only dream of. Fast forward a few years later and he's knocking out Nazis and tearing up the Japanese Imperial Army's tanks. A few years after that and he's fighting against the socialist and communist menace. To me, the parallels between that and say, McDonald's tinkering with their ground beef burger recipe every few years to fit the changing tastes of the public are plain and unmistakable.

Now, I'm not making that parallel in an effort to "judge" superheroes as inferior products of a commercialized creative industry. I like reading about superheroes, and I've spent most of my life thrilling to their exploits. But to accord them the same status as the pre-industrial myths that have formed the basis of fantastic narrative tradition, to me, seems to be overstating their significance in the greater scheme of things.         

Your points are well expressed, Z. I'm not sure I can draw a hard distinction between commercialized characters and characters kept alive simply through an oral or written storytelling tradition. Both must strike a psychological chord. Both must appeal to their audiences, to their "markets," to survive over the long haul. I think the most popular ones effectively become memes that exist outside what the titular "owners" of the character plan to do with them. Conan Doyle found that he could not kill Sherlock Holmes after a certain point. You might try an unmasked Lone Ranger, a female James Bond, a Conan on Madison Avenue, a Tarzan who had never been to the jungle or a Batman without a secret identity, but the public -- which will accept a lot -- would not accept them. You would have ripped the meme asunder.
And as Benton says, I think Captain America also falls into that category. I suspect he will only stretch so far, and no farther, and still be thought of as "Captain America."
The memes also snake away from the titular owners' control in other ways. Supreme, Captain Marvel, Hyperion, etc. -- they are all, in one sense, Superman.
Take Cinderella, for example. She has been around forever because she strikes some deep psychological resonance. The people who wept for Princess Di, a woman they did not know who did not know them, wept for Cinderella. Similarly, Frankenstein lumbers on and on, unbound, uncontrolled by anyone. One of my favorite incarnations came in the unlikely form on Andy Griffith in "A Face in the Crowd."

To danhagen:

I don't know how I missed your assertion of the "superhero as meme" (CRT monitor fatigue, I guess). That's perhaps the best-fitting metaphor offered so far in this thread that encapsulates my notions of the superhero "type" in contemporary media. It's a meme related to (one can say evolved/devolved from) the memes contained in classical myth, but a functionally discrete and distinct one given the context of modern mass media that they inhabit.   

I think so too, Z. When I leaned about memes, it struck me how well super heroes illustrate that concept.

Hey! Somebody else has seen "A Face in the Crowd"...

A brilliant film that deserves to be better known, Dag. It is as prophetic about the mass media Pandora's Box as Chayefsky's later "Network."

Quote from: zuludelta on March 12, 2009, 04:44:14 AM

Quote from: Talavar on March 12, 2009, 02:59:53 AM
But were the myths and stories ever "pure?"  People telling them always had motivations, whether it was espousing a philosophy, getting converts for a religion - which then leads to financial contributions - or even just the bard or poet paying for his meal.  Art and storytelling has regularly served another, secondary purpose, or been made to serve one.

As I mentioned previously, the commodified nature of the superhero (and to a larger extent, all narrative mass media) makes all the difference between them and classical myth and storytelling.

It's no coincidence that creation myths and fables originated (and are still being created) in pre-industrial societies. Functionally, classical myths have served to parse complex ideas and historical events into easily transmissible, self-contained narrative allegories. Sure, they were also meant to be entertainment and a diversion, but first and foremost, myths were a means by which pre-industrial societies could preserve their history and contextualize their metaphysical and philosophical concerns.

Industrialization has changed much of that. Higher standards of education, spreading literacy, the development of print and new modes of communication have made it so that there is no need for the shaman or the oracle or the high priest to interpret and recontextualize the world into myth for us. Superheroes and the comics, toys, and video games they are associated with are commodified entertainment, a by-product of the industrialization of print, and they are as close to serving the original purpose of myth as Days Of Our Lives and Monday Night Football.

Our modern day shamans and oracles aren't the Alan Moores or the Grant Morrisons of the comics world (as much as I like their comics), and Superman and Captain America aren't 20th century variations on Hercules or Odysseus. Industrialization and education have made the shaman irrelevant, replaced by the entertainer.

The true modern-day "myths" and "heroes" of our times are the idealized versions of J.F.K., Che Guevarra, Mahatma Gandhi, Noam Chomsky, Nelson Mandela, etc. that populate our textbooks, news programs, and shared recent history and continue to be relevant beyond trifling entertainment and pop culture, and continue to shape society's notions of right and wrong, and whose lives and achievements (embellished or not) serve as the filters through which we view our past and imagine our future.   

I don't think I agree with that.  Superheroes have a significant influence on some people's notions of morality, just as the list of mythologized historical figures does for others.  We don't get to dismiss the person whose moral compass comes from the words of Spider-man's uncle Ben, or the people who join the armed forces (in part) due to the sense of duty, responsibility and the perceived moral use of power engendered by a childhood of reading comics, just because they're getting it from the product of a modern mass media.

Western society has become so subdivided that there are members of subsections of that society for whom the adventures of Spider-man have far more resonance to their lives than historical or religious figures (of whom they may be largely unaware).  For these people, a comic author can be a type of shaman whose stories help the reader make sense of their personal world.  Interpreting and contextualizing the personal experiences, the private worlds of individuals disaffected & disconnected from "standard" social structures can easily come in the form of an animated Spider-man's high school difficulties, a Superman who feels isolated and cut off from the rest of humanity, etc.  The Alan Moore's & Grant Morrison's aren't everyone's "shamans," but I'd argue that nothing and no one fulfills that role for everyone in modern western society.

Quote from: zuludelta on March 12, 2009, 09:07:49 PM

Quote from: BentonGrey on March 12, 2009, 08:20:22 PMIs Captain America what he is now, or is he what he was envisioned to be by Kirby and Simon?  Being old fashioned, I tend to believe that there is a "truth" in these characters that exists independently of how they may be portrayed today.

That is certainly one way to look at it. But I don't know if I agree with it. Siegel & Shuster's Superman, as an example, started out in the 1930s as a "tough socialist reformer" (as danhagen so succintly put it in a prior post) who was as likely to let a corrupt businessman fall to his death as he was to foil a bank robbery (a reflection, perhaps, of the popular backlash against business owners in the wake of the Great Depression?). I think many people today would probably consider Mort Weisinger's, Julius Schwartz', or even John Byrne's Superman as the "true" representation of the character.

My view (and this is another thing that helps differentiate superheroes from classical myth, to me, at least) is that superheroes have always been much more flexible in how they've been portrayed. It is a function of their status as creative endeavours that double as commercial "products" that have to maintain their marketability. Early Superman was a post-Depression working class socialist icon who did to corrupt entrepreneurs what the man on the street could only dream of. Fast forward a few years later and he's knocking out Nazis and tearing up the Japanese Imperial Army's tanks. A few years after that and he's fighting against the socialist and communist menace. To me, the parallels between that and say, McDonald's tinkering with their ground beef burger recipe every few years to fit the changing tastes of the public are plain and unmistakable.

I don't think there is a "true" interpretation of any character; they're all interpreted differently at different times by different creators - superheros & legendary figures alike, both have been pretty flexible.  Take Arthurian legend - it changed a great deal between Welsh, French, and English sources, the personalities and relative importances of various figures changed depending on the story, some reconceptualized earlier Celtic myths - and on at least one occassion a Greek one - there was and is no singular version of the Arthurian mythos.  Superman changing with the changes of the culture of which the character is a part resembles that to my mind, far more than management-directed changes of McDonald's changing their burgers.  When the superheroes first started going against the Nazis it was initially driven by the creative teams rather than by the results of some sort of corporate focus group.

And there are classical myths that were changed to maintain their "marketability" as well: the Greek myths altered by/for the Romans, various belief-structures of territories conquered by the Romans identified & merged with the Roman pantheon, the aforementioned Arthurian legends with the times and nationalities, Robin Hood, Herakles/Hercules, etc.

Quote from: Talavar on March 13, 2009, 06:01:34 AM
Western society has become so subdivided that there are members of subsections of that society for whom the adventures of Spider-man have far more resonance to their lives than historical or religious figures (of whom they may be largely unaware).  For these people, a comic author can be a type of shaman whose stories help the reader make sense of their personal world.

Great point. I think I've been looking at superheroes so far from a somewhat "non-Western" standpoint, as somebody who grew up looking at superheroes as a cultural and commercial export from America that exists apart from the indigenous myth and fantastical narratives of societies that have no corresponding superhero tradition.     

Well Talavar, I'm talking about something deeper than history and culture, a very metaphysical concept, I'm afraid.  It goes back to the question of where archetypes come from.  I'm not a Lockeian, tabula rasa kinda' guy.  The truth I'm referring to could be clumsily grouped under the heading 'Platonic,' as in ideal form.  It isn't logically defensible, but that's how I view literature and culture.  The sands may shift, but somewhere beneath lies bedrock.

Quote from: Talavar on March 13, 2009, 06:01:34 AMSuperheroes have a significant influence on some people's notions of morality, just as the list of mythologized historical figures does for others. We don't get to dismiss the person whose moral compass comes from the words of Spider-man's uncle Ben, or the people who join the armed forces (in part) due to the sense of duty, responsibility and the perceived moral use of power engendered by a childhood of reading comics, just because they're getting it from the product of a modern mass media.

Sort of off-topic, but reading this thread (http://freedomreborn.net/forums/index.php?topic=49730.0) (particularly the disturbing part where forum member electro brags about and attempts to justify assaulting a suspected wrong-doer) as well as a recent JM DeMatteis interview (reproduced below) has made me wonder just what kind of "morality" some people (emphasis on "some") are gleaning from superhero comics. As I've reiterated over and over, I like superhero comics, but I've always viewed them, for the most part, as entertainment, nothing more and nothing less.

Anyway, here's the JM DeMatteis interview (done as a promotion for his new comic book from IDW Comics), reproduced in full (highlighting mine):

(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v179/dltesterzfd/dematteis.jpg)

Ooh, this is some interesting stuff. I've been meaning to chime in well before now, but keep being distracted by other stuff. Violence and superheroics are connected, there's no doubt about that. Even with heroes that don't kill, there are very, very few (and usually it's kinda part of their gimmick that they don't hurt people) that won't hurt people. Spider-Man may love to say that "with great power comes great responsibility", but he'll still kick an old man (like the Vulture) in the head with superhuman spider-strength and not think twice about it. The heroes almost never have to deal with the consequences of their actions in a realistic way, which is weird, really. Most often, when people die, it's because the hero couldn't save them (Swen Stacey, Jason Todd), not because the hero forgot he was extremely strong and accidentally hurt someone.
Because they (usually) have a secret identity and are acting outside of the law, there's no way for someone who does get hurt to effectively sue them as there is if the police are violent toward a suspect. You almost begin to think that if someone wanted to help people, they'd work for the emergency services or run a youth project in a run-down area but if they just wanted to hit people, instead they'd don a costume and justify it as "superheroics".
Maybe part of my attitude comes from growing up in a country with statistically less violent crime (proportionally) than the United States. Maybe it's because I have a comfortable middle-class life and liberal values and have never been the victim of crime, but I cannot quite understand the actions of vigilantes (real or otherwise), though I'm happy to accept them fictionally just as I am happy to accept men that can fly and lift mountains.

I think the secret identity itself is another kind of super power -- the power to disappear into the crowd and evade responsibility for the consequences of your actions. Heroes use secret identities the way Robin Hood used Sherwood Forest.
And the more oppressive your own society, the more the secret identity is justified to the reader. It's obvious why Zorro and the Scarlet Pimpernel have to disguise themselves -- they are lone individuals pitting their wits and skills against corrupt, mass-murdering governments. The more corrupt and desperate the society, the more outlaws are celebrated by the public -- look at the gangster movies of the Depression.

Quote from: The Enigma on March 14, 2009, 10:37:19 AM
Maybe part of my attitude comes from growing up in a country with statistically less violent crime (proportionally) than the United States. Maybe it's because I have a comfortable middle-class life and liberal values and have never been the victim of crime, but I cannot quite understand the actions of vigilantes (real or otherwise), though I'm happy to accept them fictionally just as I am happy to accept men that can fly and lift mountains.

Interesting points Enigma. However I do have to state this point.  Frank Miller used to have some fairly moderate or liberal ideals compared to some of his most famous works.  The owner of my comic shop had a signing on time a ways back for Miller to sign Sin City books.  The owner who was a fan of Miller's work on Daredevil asked him where the change came from.  And Miller said, any one who hold those ideals [the ideals he formerly held]  has never been robbed at gun point.  

I was instilled with my moral template from my Christian upbringing, however my practical morally comes very much from comic books and legends I loved in my youth.  I accept some forms of vigilantism as citizens protecting citizens from heavy handed tactics of those in authority, and even view some civil disobedience as a form of vigilantism in a way because it involves people taking the law into their own hands, or breaking the law to prove injustice.  Violent vigilantism in real life often involves rushed judgment and murder without a trial often times when a suspect is not caught in the act.

The real difference is that the vulture is an elderly man who has killed several people and is wearing a costume that enhances his durability and strength.  Yes spider-man hauling of a cracking vulture in the skull should honestly break open this man's head, but this is why characters with super strength are often said to be holding back against normal foes for just that reason.

I also like you point about "real life heroes"  this why I have based many of my Original Characters in places where they are real life heroes like fire-fighters, police, EMS, altruistic philanthropists, and non-profit humanitarian workers

I'm sure that the core of my moral viewpoint was formed by Superman -- not merely what he does in costume, but what he does as Clark Kent. A free and honest press is vital to any decent society. I was always pleased that Donner's first Superman movie opened with a paean to the Daily Planet's role as a beacon of hope and truth during the Depression, which was the planetary explosion that really gave us Superman.

I guess the reason I wanted to bring up the thorny question of "superhero morality" vis-à-vis the violence inherent in the superhero genre is I've started to think about danhagen, Talavar, and BentonGrey's assertions that superheroes can inform the moral outlook of some people (with caveats, of course) in similar ways that religion or politics do.

Now, here's the thing... if we assume superhero comics' (and pop culture's, in general) primacy as some sort of moral/ethical guidebook, are superhero writers and artists then bound by the same restrictions and responsibilities accorded to purveyors of religion and political thought? The rational world at large would not tolerate a religious leader who advocates an oversimplified philosophical outlook of "peace through violence" and a serious politician pushing for the same would be laughed out of parliament.

The above had never occurred to me before, but that's because I've always viewed (and still view) superhero comics (and violent video games, movies, and even music) primarily as entertainment, a check-valve for the built-in primate hunter instincts I know I've got inside of me, a way to engage my limbic lobe and vicariously live out adolescent power fantasies in a healthy, socially acceptable, one could even say creative, manner. As such, I can enjoy reading Punisher MAX, playing Grand Theft Auto, and listening to Snoop Dogg "guilt-free" despite the wholesale brutality and violence contained in the media (and their diametric opposition to my conscious, higher-order, real-world values... heck, I'm a freaking vegetarian and I feel bad if I accidentally step on an ant!).

Super heroes have tended to behave more responsibly, and to model real moral behavior, during those eras in which they have been regarded primarily as entertainment for children. During the 1930s, in pulp magazines aimed at adults, someone like the Spider could gleefully deliver bullet-riddled summary justice to hundreds of criminals, or even suspected criminals. During the 1980s and later, as the audience for comics became older, that kind of slaughter came back into fashion. But during the 1950s and 1960s, under the influence of the Comics Code, super heroes would never kill and deferred to the rule of law to a sometimes ridiculous degree.
It's pretty clear to me that someone like Superman, a compassionate super being from an advanced civilization, would not and should not kill. While trying to leave humans to decide their own fate, he would not tolerate the use of nuclear weapons, either. I doubt that he would permit their existence.

The rational world at large would not tolerate a religious leader who advocates an oversimplified philosophical outlook of "peace through violence" and a serious politician pushing for the same would be laughed out of parliament.
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The rational world at large might not, but the real world would --- the Spanish Inquisition, the fascists, etc.

Quote from: zuludelta on March 14, 2009, 04:32:12 PM
I guess the reason I wanted to bring up the thorny question of "superhero morality" vis-à-vis the violence inherent in the superhero genre is I've started to think about danhagen, Talavar, and BentonGrey's assertions that superheroes can inform the moral outlook of some people (with caveats, of course) in similar ways that religion or politics do.

Now, here's the thing... if we assume superhero comics' (and pop culture's, in general) primacy as some sort of moral/ethical guidebook, are superhero writers and artists then bound by the same restrictions and responsibilities accorded to purveyors of religion and political thought? The rational world at large would not tolerate a religious leader who advocates an oversimplified philosophical outlook of "peace through violence" and a serious politician pushing for the same would be laughed out of parliament.

The above had never occurred to me before, but that's because I've always viewed (and still view) superhero comics (and violent video games, movies, and even music) primarily as entertainment, a check-valve for the built-in primate hunter instincts I know I've got inside of me, a way to engage my limbic lobe and vicariously live out adolescent power fantasies in a healthy, socially acceptable, one could even say creative, manner. As such, I can enjoy reading Punisher MAX, playing Grand Theft Auto, and listening to Snoop Dogg "guilt-free" despite the wholesale brutality and violence contained in the media (and their diametric opposition to my conscious, higher-order, real-world values... heck, I'm a freaking vegetarian and I feel bad if I accidentally step on an ant!).

Are the purveyours of religious & political thought bound to any restrictions and responsibilities?  I know this is a touchy subject for our board here, so I'll leave it at saying there are some religious & political groups from all over the world whose espoused beliefs & philosophies I find quite as frightening as someone whose moral compass consists of punching bad people until they stop (which I do find frightening).  The older I get, the more I come to believe that the rational world is a pretty small place that most people visit only rarely.

I think the morality taken from superhero comics can be very troubling though, but I don't think it always has to be.  I've known people inspired (in part) to join the police & the armed forces by comics & their characters, while the flipside of that is the ugly vigilante justice you mention.  "Superhero morality" isn't alone in this; the same religion can inspire one person to work with the homeless while another is inspired to blow up a doctor's office.

Well, Superhero morality is typically simplified to the point of being silly, like "heros don't kill". Feh.... part of why I found the whole thing in DC where WW killed Lord to be absurd....

Actually, I don't find a philosophy of not killing people to be "silly." If it is, then the world's greatest philosophers and religions might also be called "silly."
Killing people need not be necessary, any more than enslaving people is necessary.

Sometimes people NEED to kill other people to protect others. what I find to be silly is that superhero morality tends to take the stance of "there's never a situation wher you have to kill someone". which is absurd from a real world point of view.

I've never NEEDED to kill anyone for any reason. I doubt the majority of people on this forum can say otherwise, tell me: why exactly is it so critical that superheroes kill people? (We'll stay off the question of whether superheroics requires some sort of higher moral standard until someone else decides to jump in there and address that).

Quote from: marhawkman on April 07, 2009, 09:28:49 PM
Sometimes people NEED to kill other people to protect others. what I find to be silly is that superhero morality tends to take the stance of "there's never a situation wher you have to kill someone". which is absurd from a real world point of view.

Wally West aka the Flash, has been written many times as a by the book law man a feels that if a man is sentenced to death then he should be put to death.  Wonder Woman, is an Amazon Princess she has killed many (nearly human creatures) including Medusa.  Not all superhero morality is summed up into one thing.  I've always taken the view of super-hero morality as simply as the super-heroes are protectors, guardians, and sentries against the things the normal authorities are ill-equipped to handle.  While the methods may be controversial and extra legal, they are the protectors of society therefore it they fulfill the position as to be the protector, not judge, jury, and executioner. There are a lot of heroes who kill, Moon Knight (in all of his series) Azrael (often inadvertantly or through non-action) Hulk (The Red King, various military personal) Savage Dragon.  Granted these characters are on the fringe heroism, but they have over the years been recognized as "The Good Guys." 

Wonder Woman's homicide of Maxwell Lord, is one of few cases where it was pretty clear there was no other choice.  Lord had control of one of the most powerful being in the universe, and he was going to use him to take over the world and place it under a freedomless system.  In order to preserve :ff: the lives of countless allies, countless innocents, and world as it is (imperfect as it may be) she made the choice that her warrior heritage breed in her, kill the enemy who seeks your destruction.  She does not do this every villain she encounters because but she believes she can find a better solution, but in the case of Lord there was no alternative. Even Bruce did not condemn her as far as I know, and she went willingly before a court of law to defend her action or face the consequences of it.

I think the stance that is taken is less "the is no situation where you have to kill" but more along the lines of there is "no satisfaction in the taking of a life".  That effectively Justice must trump Vengeance no matter how sweet vengeance may seem or how personal the attack. 

Quote from: Failed_Hero on April 07, 2009, 11:29:30 PMI think the stance that is taken is less "the is no situation where you have to kill" but more along the lines of there is "no satisfaction in the taking of a life".  That effectively Justice must trump Vengeance no matter how sweet vengeance may seem or how personal the attack.

Well, that's definately how it should be. But remember the idiotic events DC did following the WW example? Bleh....

The problem of killing was already resolved by a higher civilization than ours in the comics. The solution was the Phantom Zone.
It is pretty clear that people of higher moral understanding would go a long way to avoid killing people, isn't it? The more quickly you resort to killing, the more primitive you are.

Is the Phantom Zone better than killing?  You drift around conscious but unable to do anything for eternity - people would go insane subjected to that in record time.  For criminals that are never going to be released it seems fairly cruel actually.

I once sat in on a discussion between two Champions players, one who played a Superman-type boy scout, and the other who played a pulp-style vigilante. The players slipped into character, during the discussion, and it came down to this:

Super-types often have more choices than normals (even highly trained normals with weapons). When you are faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful etc., there are seldom times when you have to kill to protect your self or others. The story is different when you can't race over there at the speed of sound and snatch the weapon away from someone who is about to shoot an innocent, or just stand in the way (we do it like Diving for Cover, but call it Diving into the Line of Fire). You shoot to kill, and hope that it either kills the target or disables them enough that you don't NEED to kill.

I don't remember where I read it, but even James Bond was subject to disciplinary action if he misused his licence to kill: it could be revoked. He would not be proscecuted for lives taken during a mission, but there would be a periodic review of his actions. If he was not acting wisely, he would find himself stuck at a desk job doing intelligence anaysis for those agents who were not misusing their 00 clasifications. You know, that would be worse on Bond than putting him in jail (from which he would probably escape with the help of a beautiful woman). This would prompt him to be careful when pulling the trigger, 'cause one that bullet is fired, it ain't comin' back. And there are stiull those to whom sentient life is sacred, and they will not kill under any circumstances (but how many heroes have a "code against NOT killing"). It is difficult to "shoot to wound" with a normal gun: Sam McCloud once said not to worry about a man he shot: he was dead. What makes you think you killed him they asked? Didn't have enough time not to was the answer.

Super heroes are just that: they are "above" hero. Their actions and morals should be "above" those of even a hero. There have always been comic book characters who killed, or who would kill if they had to (Captain America, for instance). There have always been those who wouldn't (Superman after the first few months, but does anyone remember the Phantom Zone criminals from Superboy Prime's world?) Part of the problem is that comic books became "kid stuff" at a point shortly after WW II. Never mind that GIs folded them in half and stuck them in their packs, or that they were decended from newspaper strips that had both mature and young audiences. The change to "kid stuff" from "general audience" meant a simplification of stories and morality. Nowadays, comic book writers want to do more mature stories (partially becasue they want to write something pertinent, partially because they have lost their younger audience now that it takes a full time job to buy comics), but they have nearly fifty years of simplified morality behind each character. It creates friction between the READERS, not to mention it makes for unusual behavior from characters we've read all our lives.

Hey, I blame Fredric Whertham.

Well reasoned, Dag.

Yeah that is a good way of describing it, but paragraph two largely goes out the window when you have supervillains. Why? It's predicated on having the ability to do more things than your opponent. you have the option to NOT fight to kill. But if you can't simply slap someone senseless, and have to actually fight to the finish then it's by no means certain.

Ah, but that paragraph starts with the word "usually". Superman vs. Ultraman (or General Zod, or one of the dozens of other evil Kryptonians) with no Kryptonite in sight-does that have to be a fight to the death? It's probably going to come down to who is the most resourceful fighter. That, and who can stay on their figureative feet the longest. If Superman wins, he's not going to kill Ultraman because it's the smart thing to do, he's going to let him live because he would feel that it's the right thing to do. Ultraman would probably feel different.
Batman doesn't kill because that's what criminals do. He knows that personally. Spiderman feels the same way. For the same reason. Ditto Daredevil.
Reed Richards and Ben Grimm probably killed people when they were in the military (whichever war that is now), but neither feels that that is the best solution with opponents now.

In a perfect world, like the one in the silver age, heroes wouldn't feel the need to kill criminals. I miss that, despite enjoying the adventures of both The Shadow and The Spider (Ha! You want body counts? just read The Spider.) I don't think it's any more realistic for hero who kills ALL his enemies (no matter how mundane) than it is for one who NEVER kills them-even by accident.

that makes sense. A good example was Superman vs. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Preus

Superman's fight with Preus didn't end until Superman had almost killed him.

Not to try and change the subject or anything, but am I the only one who feels that time and the age of characters operate differently. It is obvious that time moves in the comic world, but aging doesn't reflect this. Dick Grayson was Robin in his teens, grew up is now in his mid twenties, but Batman remains in his early to mid thirties. Peter Parker went from High School to College and is now graduated but all the heroes around him who were adults when he started out are still the same age. Same goes for Johnny Storm the only character in the FF who aged. Kitty Pryde also went to college and graduated and the mean time everyone in the X-verse stayed the same. For some reason characters that are younger grow up, but once you reach that 20-30 range, you seem to stay that age forever. I know this is a well worn and tired subject but am I the only one this bothers?

Not exactly true. Most of the characters age, but they do so very, very slowly. It took Franklin and Valerie quite awhile to even reach their current age. As far as Spidey goes, JQ is against aging him passed 25 (or so) and marriage/kids factor into that. However, the X-men were also around his age when they started out and Cyclops and friends are clearly situated in their 30s. The fact of the matter is, they live in a serial world that earns someone money. They want to keep them around as long as possible and we all know how fans react to new characters taking over roles in most circumstances.

As a side note, once the characters begin hitting certain ages, they slow down considerably because there's this thing called "aging by association." For example, if the X-men reach their 40s and Spidey remains in his 20s, it'd give off this very odd effect. On another note, Marvel (specifically) should also limit the amount of offspring they introduce in a year *looks at Hulk*.
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On another note, aging also works weirdly for young characters at times. Franklin is a good example, but let's look at Jubilee. How many times did she hit puberty and graduate (and forget some of her skills/gymnastics) before they finally decided to make her college age post HoM?

I believe it was Umberto Eco who observed that the commercial, corporate nature of the media in which they are bound makes super heroes mythic figures who are forever frozen in time, largely. The story of a Hercules and a King Arthur has a beginning, middle and end, but the story of a Superman remains stuck in the middle because he makes money for the people who own him.
And yet, to the extent they are memes, those characters cannot really be "owned" in the commercial sense. They exist, essentially, as cultural icons in the minds of the world public.