“How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Hate Batman”
It was a great feeling to realize recently that I don’t like Batman. It’s hard thing for a comic-book geek to come to terms with, since Batman is so emblematic of “cool” to the average comic geek. But it says something about the mentality of the comics fan who believes that the quintessence of cool is a guy in tights and a cape.
I know for years I would get annoyed when people would talk about how Batman was cooler than other superheroes because of his “dark” origin, and how he is so smart he can figure out way to beat up Superman. Blah blah blah … (As Peter David once pointed out, Frank Miller’s “Dark Knight” may have made Batman cool again for the first time post-Adam West, but that work also permanently neutered the image of Superman.)
Since Dark Knight Returns, every incarnation of the relationship between Batman and Superman makes much of the idea that Batman is the more formidable of the pair, despite the fact that – going strictly by the stats – Superman should really be way ahead. It’s always struck me as juvenile and uncreative. When Miller did it, it was quite new and bold. Now it’s just like a cheap short-hand. (How can we show how great Batman is? Ah, let’s have him be more super than Superman!!!)
For whatever reason, despite my annoyance at the phenomenon, I felt like perhaps I still had to concede that “Batman is still pretty cool,” because I am a comic-book geek, and we are required by law to think that Batman is pretty awesome, even if he is not our favorite.
But three different observations cropped up in different places on the net – or, rather, they were there on the net and I happened upon them – that finally made me realize I can just relax and go ahead and hate Batman.
1.) A Grant Morrison interview. Over on Geoff’s blog, I get very testy about Morrison, because I think he’s overrated, and that a lot of his “crazy ideas” are about as substantive as the inside of a balloon. But I do like some of his observations about superhero comics, including one he made recently: That while Batman and Superman are both --- like all superheroes – power fantasies, they are different types. Batman is an adolescent fantasy: be a millionaire, kick ass, do whatever you want, have a bunch of toys, etc. Superman is an adult fantasy: Have a great job, marry a pretty and successful woman, be known for helping people. This is a rather lovely insight on Morrison’s part; I won’t deny it. And it completely flattens the ridiculous notion that Batman is more “mature” because his origin involves death by mugging. Morrison’s paradigm acknowledges that both characters are simply fantasies, but that Superman is the one that appeals to a more mature sensibility.
2) David Fiore, who noted on his blog that Batman just wants to ‘Keep the money in the hands of the people that are already ("legitimately") rich, and the underclass in its place. The only "systemic" critique this concept is capable of generating is a law n' order screed against legal loopholes that allow the criminals to go free.’ That’s also a great insight into the character and the concept that – now that I have seen it – I cannot un-see.
3) A poster on a message-board noted that DC’s desire to amp up Batman’s rogues gallery to make them seem super-ultra-badass and cool – presumably to amp up Batman’s own awesomeness – has had the opposite effect, if you really think through the premise logically. The comics now present a scenario in which any time one of Batman’s nutso villains escape, they invariably wreak absurd amounts of havoc and death upon the landscape. We are supposed to believe that Batman is the most efficacious superhero around (better than Superman, remember?), and yet Gotham City – the place that is under Batman’s “protection” – is the site of Holocaust-scale slaughter on a monthly basis. Pathetic.
So there you have it. Granted, I don’t deny the charm of the Batman milieu – and I do enjoy “The Killing Joke” a great deal (although it’s been pointed out that it is not really a good Batman story – so maybe that is why I like it). Aesthetically, he’s got the best villains around – creative names, imaginative concepts, tremendous visuals. But when you get down to the nuts and bolts of the concept, it makes for a crappy superhero.
So there you go. Batman sucks.
It feels good to be able to say that.
It was a great feeling to realize recently that I don’t like Batman. It’s hard thing for a comic-book geek to come to terms with, since Batman is so emblematic of “cool” to the average comic geek. But it says something about the mentality of the comics fan who believes that the quintessence of cool is a guy in tights and a cape.
I know for years I would get annoyed when people would talk about how Batman was cooler than other superheroes because of his “dark” origin, and how he is so smart he can figure out way to beat up Superman. Blah blah blah … (As Peter David once pointed out, Frank Miller’s “Dark Knight” may have made Batman cool again for the first time post-Adam West, but that work also permanently neutered the image of Superman.)
Since Dark Knight Returns, every incarnation of the relationship between Batman and Superman makes much of the idea that Batman is the more formidable of the pair, despite the fact that – going strictly by the stats – Superman should really be way ahead. It’s always struck me as juvenile and uncreative. When Miller did it, it was quite new and bold. Now it’s just like a cheap short-hand. (How can we show how great Batman is? Ah, let’s have him be more super than Superman!!!)
For whatever reason, despite my annoyance at the phenomenon, I felt like perhaps I still had to concede that “Batman is still pretty cool,” because I am a comic-book geek, and we are required by law to think that Batman is pretty awesome, even if he is not our favorite.
But three different observations cropped up in different places on the net – or, rather, they were there on the net and I happened upon them – that finally made me realize I can just relax and go ahead and hate Batman.
1.) A Grant Morrison interview. Over on Geoff’s blog, I get very testy about Morrison, because I think he’s overrated, and that a lot of his “crazy ideas” are about as substantive as the inside of a balloon. But I do like some of his observations about superhero comics, including one he made recently: That while Batman and Superman are both --- like all superheroes – power fantasies, they are different types. Batman is an adolescent fantasy: be a millionaire, kick ass, do whatever you want, have a bunch of toys, etc. Superman is an adult fantasy: Have a great job, marry a pretty and successful woman, be known for helping people. This is a rather lovely insight on Morrison’s part; I won’t deny it. And it completely flattens the ridiculous notion that Batman is more “mature” because his origin involves death by mugging. Morrison’s paradigm acknowledges that both characters are simply fantasies, but that Superman is the one that appeals to a more mature sensibility.
2) David Fiore, who noted on his blog that Batman just wants to ‘Keep the money in the hands of the people that are already ("legitimately") rich, and the underclass in its place. The only "systemic" critique this concept is capable of generating is a law n' order screed against legal loopholes that allow the criminals to go free.’ That’s also a great insight into the character and the concept that – now that I have seen it – I cannot un-see.
3) A poster on a message-board noted that DC’s desire to amp up Batman’s rogues gallery to make them seem super-ultra-badass and cool – presumably to amp up Batman’s own awesomeness – has had the opposite effect, if you really think through the premise logically. The comics now present a scenario in which any time one of Batman’s nutso villains escape, they invariably wreak absurd amounts of havoc and death upon the landscape. We are supposed to believe that Batman is the most efficacious superhero around (better than Superman, remember?), and yet Gotham City – the place that is under Batman’s “protection” – is the site of Holocaust-scale slaughter on a monthly basis. Pathetic.
So there you have it. Granted, I don’t deny the charm of the Batman milieu – and I do enjoy “The Killing Joke” a great deal (although it’s been pointed out that it is not really a good Batman story – so maybe that is why I like it). Aesthetically, he’s got the best villains around – creative names, imaginative concepts, tremendous visuals. But when you get down to the nuts and bolts of the concept, it makes for a crappy superhero.
So there you go. Batman sucks.
It feels good to be able to say that.
