Superheroes: A Roundtable Discussion

[Gremlin]

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.

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.

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.

[zuludelta]

Ooh. 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).     

[zuludelta]

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.   

[Talavar]

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).

[danhagen]

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

[zuludelta]

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.   

[BentonGrey]

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.

[zuludelta]

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.

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 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.

[tommyboy]

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.

[danhagen]

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.

[danhagen]

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'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.

[BentonGrey]

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'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.

[zuludelta]

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.

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).   

This 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.

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 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 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.

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.   

[BentonGrey]

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.

[zuludelta]

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.

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.         

[danhagen]

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."

[zuludelta]

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.   

[danhagen]

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

[daglob]

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

[danhagen]

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."

[Talavar]

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.

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.

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.

[zuludelta]

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.     

[BentonGrey]

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.

[zuludelta]

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.

Sort of off-topic, but reading this thread (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):

[The Enigma]

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.

[danhagen]

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.

[Failed_Hero]

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

[danhagen]

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.

[zuludelta]

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!).

[danhagen]

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.