Captain America: Heavy's the Head That Wears the "A"

No one can begrudge a good Hitler-slugging, but such imagery commonplace in the 40's is seen as a vice today

Marvel's "top tier" of superheroes has been a bit amorphousness over the years. For years, Captain America was part of the resident Marvel Superheroes "trinity" that included Spider-Man and the Hulk. However, Cap would, over the years, find himself displaced by Wolverine, sometimes the Silver Surfer...even Iron Man as of late. He's certainly one of the company's, even the superhero genre's, most iconic figures, but he can suffer large wanes of popularity. Being a straitlaced hero can certainly see your popularity eclipsed with the younger set. Especially when you're treated more like a sentiment than a character in your own right.

I sometimes wonder what it would look like if the legal (and thus, cosmic) parameters that keep the Marvel and DC Universes separate were broken. That is, Superman and Spider-Man were part of the same narrative tapestry, and could interact with each other as frequently as they interact with the Green Lantern or the Hulk, respectively. I imagine a lot of redundancies would be eliminated, or re-imagined. (It's interesting to note in the most analogous examples, namely the dual trinities of Flash/Aquaman/Green Arrow vs. Quicksilver/Submariner/Hawkeye, the latter half have served as career villains at some point) The question that most often pops up is where Captain America would find himself in this new world order. And, as pop-culture in general is amalgamation that cares not for "universes", where he finds himself as a figure.

The idea of Marvel, in contrast to DC, is that its roster of super-powered champions are motley outsiders. Flawed, ornery, or a least antisocial, they're not pinnacles of humanity, so much as alternatives to it. Captain America is the glaring exception. A remnant of the golden age, bright, shiny, and as far from "weird" as you can get for comic book character. Rather than tear that concept down, Marvel has instead made him the stabilizing force of the chaotic Marvel Universe. His leadership is not that of a Type-A dictator, but of a reluctant but obliging Cincinnatus, who carries out actions while Reed Richards, Tony Stark and Professor Xavier pontificate. The "dad" of whatever collection of heroes we're working with. In-universe, he's an inspirational figure. He's there to organize a strategy, to give a pep-talk to heroes about their doubts, even as he wrestles with his own. Basically, he serves the purpose that Justice League's "trinity" serves.

Some of the Star-Spangled Avenger's venture outside comics have been..ignominious to say the least.

Which is probably why writers are often at a loss what to do with him outside the big crossover events. In a lot of ways, he's like King Arthur, who in modern fiction rarely serves as the protagonist In most takes on Arthurian lore, Arthur Pendragon is a supporting player, sometimes a background figure. Focus is not so much placed on Arthur, who remains a static figure. That's not to say a perfect figure, but somebody who's inherent goodness inspires the action, as opposed to triggers it. Occasionally we'll get an Arthur who's lost his way and our main character must re-inspire him. But ultimately Arthur is about ideals, both the strength and fragility of those ideals. Captain America often serves the same purpose in comics. There's always a sense that as long as Captain America is going to be around, even as the character is plagued by doubt in his own stories. Captain America is usually popular (Or merchandisable) enough to maintain a title continuously, but usually not popular enough to franchise, Thus, the majority of his appearances are usually about his places in the Big Picture.
In fact, even the most well-regarded runs in Captain America's own title, like Mark Gruenwald and Ed Brubaker's, usually have half the arc consisting of somebody else having to fill in Captain America's shoes. It's not so much they don't regard Captain America interesting--the stories aren't about Captain America is a closest sadist or something dark to tear him down. It's just the belief that Cap has come to who he is honestly, and while he weathers self-doubts, they're less about growth. Cap doesn't need to grow anymore as a character, he doesn't need to learn a great deal. Just the occasional sobering or humbling moment, before he's back to being an inspiration to everyone again.

Even his ostensibly sol title had someone sharing the bill.

That character schematic, however, is dramatically difficult. Especially when bringing it to another medium. The Punisher, Captain America's polar opposite in so many respects, has had three movies made about him, with very little success. Some comic fans say that it is the result of the Punisher not being particularly unique outside a superhero universe to contrast him. This may have been the same problem with Captain America, He's the superhero most superheroes want to be; But that's supremely difficult to convey when the superpowered populace is kept to a minimum in said adaptations. There are no superheroes to contrast against. Even his innate nobility is harder to convey, because to a certain extent, Captain America;s granduer was built up over  long time. Introducing him for the first time may not have the meaning he does for comic fans. Many grow to appreciate him over time, but such investment is hard, maybe even pointless, for other mediums not as long-reaching as serial comics.

It's perhaps no surprise Captain America has not had a long-running series, even a cartoon show, since the 1960's Marvel Superheroes cartoon. (Which barely even count...the show was photographed comics slightly edited to mimic animation) But he's guest starred on roughly half the cartoons made about these characters. (Even the X-Men ones, which were always notoriously insular.) Part of that is simply the WWII background, much like an isolated valley of dinosaurs or "underwater episode" will provide instant guest stars. Still, the aficinados who run these programs likely have that moment at the brainstorming table of "Hey, we have to have Captain America."

Historically, Cap has been "Mr. Avenger", although Iron man's cinematic popularity has complicated this.

Of course, his tendency to be a guest star more than a main character might owe itself to the complexity of politics. In the hidden corner of comics, one can go on more adult political screeds, to say nothing of more liberal ones. Recently Ed Brubaker came under fire for a quick shot at the so-called Tea Party, claiming Marvel was using the American flag to further their agenda. Of course, Captain America has always leaned rather left--Steve Englehart's treatment was a campaign against Nixon America and the McCarthy era. Even his conception was that of an FDR-era hero. One may argue his coming out party of socking Hitler straight in the jaw owes more to his creators being two New York Jews, than any sense of American Exceptionalism per se. Much of his richer stories explores this divide, and it may be as problematic, or at least as difficult, to get into the Red Scare on a children's show as it would to explore King Arthur's incestuous siring out of wedlock. It's certainly made movie producers nervous, in a climate where "agree to disagree" is a lost art.

Captain America's first official foray to the screen has him almost completely in the context of how he fits into the Avengers, even down to "The First Avenger" being the movie's subtitle. On some level, a bit of an insult to die-hard fans, and to those who feel it's political correctness gone awry. But in other ways, it could be seen as playing to a strength. The Avengers are Marvel's premiere team, and Captain America is the premiere team player.

Green Lantern: Comics' Secretary of Culture

Alan Scott, the first hero to don the costume, in a context the brand would rarely see after the 50's

You know you've become a pop-culture icon when you start becoming the shorthand for your own premise. It's pretty obvious  how Greek mythology has influenced our language. A task can be Herculean, an especially self-involved person is a Narcissist. This spreads even to the modern day, and the comic book medium; An overworked human being will reiterate his limitations by pointing out he's not Superman. An individual about to lose his temper will be accused of "Hulking out." The most iconic characters sort of become personifications. Platonic ideals. The interesting thing about Green Lantern is, he's kind of become the shorthand for comic book superheroes.

Now, one could lay that honor at Superman's feet. And it's true that a hastily thrown together cape and set of muscles on any given person instantly conjures up the image of "superhero". But I would argue, in that flying with a cape is essentially a public domain concept by now, that Superman has transcended the comic book medium. He's shorthand for himself. Not to mention it's too easy.  You certainly can't be too esoteric with comic book references, so I would say that the Green Lantern is the superhero you want to mention when you want to quickly say "A superhero is this", but feel that Spider-Man or the Flash is just too specific or quirky.

With so many people donning the fabled ring, he's an easy hero to "cast".

In the late 50's when DC comics revamped their dormant Golden Age staple of characters, some were given more radical revamps than others. The direction they took Green Lantern in, however, was unheard of; The idea of someone's mystery man identity being one soldier in an entire army. Green Lantern wasn't just an identity, it was profession, a title that a vast supporting cast held as well. This was combined with his "power", a special ring that could create just about any object. Clean, simple, and with a large amount of potential. This, in a lot ways, freed the Lantern from the kind of specifics, both in actions and character, that tend to manifest themselves when your hero has abilities like super-speed or controlling fire. To a certain degree, the concept says "Who could be Green Lantern? Anyone the writer wants him to be."

It's not for nothing, relatively early on, Hal Jordan (Generally considered the definitive Green Lantern) had potential replacements looming just around the corner. Jordan barely entered the sixties before the mythology i;;ustrated both Guy Gardner and John Stewart were waiting in the wings. In fact, Hal largely spent a huge chunk of the 80's having to give up the spotlight to his understudies. Guy, because he's one of those characters who make a great foil, and John Stewart, because he provides a much needed boost of diversity to the superhero genre. When Cartoon Network aired Justice League in the early 2000's, the creators felt it much better to highlight characters who weren't white males, when possible. While I feel the "more people know John" argument is a little specious, given that it was a basic cable cartoon that was erratically aired, whenever people ask "Why can't a minority occupy the Green Lantern slot?", it's a pretty solid question. Because the idea is ANYONE can be the Green Lantern. Alan Scott, Hal Jordan, John Stewart, Guy Gardner, Kyle Rayner...even Daffy Duck. It's a perfect wish-fulfillment fantasy. You don't have to be born with anything, you don't have to train, you don't even have to be partially mutated. (It's funny that in stories where Batman is overlooked because he doesn't have any powers, nobody mentions that GL technically isn't a superhuman either.)

No comic geek's trophy room would be complete without it

It should be mentioned that not once, but twice Green Lantern was optioned for a movie that would serve as a vehicle for a comedian; Jack Black and Eddie Murphy, respectively. In fact, who they eventually got to play him wasn't too off that mark. Ryan Ryenolds did start out as a more comedic actor, and while a couple of sit-ups did help cement him as a credible action movie star, the point remains--in Hollywood's mind, the concept was always perfect for an everyman who could crack wise. Now of course this misinterprets Hal Jordan's  character grossly, and of course fans were outraged. But something to keep in mind is that Hollywood has often depicted superheroes with a less than stellar quality. It has even attempted ill-conceived farces like Superman 3 and Batman and Robin. But there's usually the sense the superhero himself will be played pretty straight. Very rarely has even your uninspired studio executive felt the only one who could do justice to a comic book character is a comedian. Most diehard fans will tell you that the conceit of the Green Lantern Corps is they pursue the best, and that's not an invalid point. But in the popular consciousness, inasmuch as the character exists in it, that Green Lantern is a job means anything goes.


To wit, in Justice League Unlimited episode, "The Greatest Story Never Told" Booster Gold, an obscure hero in both real world parlance and the story's narrative, is constantly mistaken for Green Lantern. (Especially amusing as Booster had not such color in his ensemble.) An episode of Sienfeld also has a running joke about "Green Lantern" being the side job of Elaine's mysterious new beau. Batman can sometimes be referenced to this end, but once again, Batman is familiar and specific enough figure that he's kind of a symbol for himself. Green Lantern is just vague enough to be catch-all allusion.

Hal Jordan. Fans say he's the embodiment of heroism, anti-fans say he's blandness incarnate.

There's also the sense that Green Lantern makes a good icon for comic book culture. In some ways, it's the answer to Marvel's X-Men franchise, with its complicated history, and "Just add..." method of character creation. In fact, just as throughout the eighties, the popularity of the X-Men franchise had Marvel (sometimes arbitrarily) handing out the "mutant" title to boost a character's popularity, so had DC thought to assign powers rings found of all colors of the spectrum to various DC characters. (For those who don't know what I'm talking about, a couple years back, it was decided there were Red Lanterns, Yellow Lanterns, Black Lanterns, etc) I suppose just as the X-Men taps into the stereotypical comic book reader's feeling of isolation and rejection, so does Green Lantern tap into the stereotypical comic reader's love of amassing collectibles. (He's certainly amongst the easiest characters to merchandise.)

It should also be mentioned that Green Lantern fans have a reputation as being particularly...ardent, even for the medium. Back when Hal Jordan was written out of the book (In an admittedly extreme form of character assassinations), fans of the book were outraged beyond all measure--hassling the writer, as well as setting up clubs and memberships. In today's pop-culture world, where the line between fanboy and teenybopper is irrevocably blurred, that may seem positively quaint, but it was serious business back in the day. This soon led to "Who's the best Green Lantern?" to be the quintessential nerd debate topic, up there with Kirk vs. Picard. As a result, the very idea one could be invested in the question signified that one really was a disciple of the medium. A badge of geekiness, if you will. This was probably even more cemented by the ascendance of DC power Broker Geoff Johns. Johns himself is the ultimate fanboy made good, and as he has shown a particular favor towards the Lantern franchise, once again illustrated that insignia as the symbol for ultimate comics insiderdom.

Does this all make Green Lantern in general, and Hal Jordan in particular, generic? Well, I think more than anything, a good word is "utilitarian". The  concept of the superhero is so extremely idiosyncratic, that the Campbellian "Hero's Journey" doesn't always fit. The concept of a nondescript person having to "answer the call" is always a classic storytelling device. The Green Lantern concept is highly flexible, and whatever permutation it takes, to whatever backlash detractors provide, there will always be room for it.

Magneto: The Polarity of Morality

Magneto is one of the few arch-villains to appear in the heroes' inaugural issue

As a rule I don't like to quantify things. So making "top ten" lists doesn't hold the most appeal to me, per se. When I say that, I'm not particularly adept, or possessing the desire to rank by gold and silver things that are similar and yet to different to truly rank. I do, however, recognize the broad strokes of tiers. I do like to think about the absolute most iconic icons in popular culture. So every now and then, I think about what titles would still be published if there were only limited publishing space. (Which was a  very real limitation for 1960's Marvel) I also think about what characters would we keep, by design or by compulsion, if the rest were, for some reason, dispersed into the ether. I think about the top dogs, the truly top dogs. I do it for heroes, and I do it for villains. Four, as in four columns, is a good enough barometer to decide the absolute most vital, popular and iconic villains in comic book lore. Those four are the Joker, Doctor Doom, Lex Luthor, and Magneto.As I've mentioned before, the creators of comics sometimes invoke something when they create. They tap into something. Not just a zeitgeist, but something very primal on a cultural level. Superhero fiction is perhaps the quintessential American mythology. So it stands to reason the largest, most important figures say something about America.

To make an iconic character requires a few elements. Sure, being well-executed from an artistic standpoint helps. But a simplicity, an applicable shorthand is absolutely vital. It's why some of the better creations from the likes of Grant Morrison and Neil Gaiman haven't caught on as much less original, inspired characters. "Magneto" as a concept works on the basest aesthetic levels. Magnet powers are easy to explain (If, in practice, flagrant defiance of the actual magnetic properties found in science) He carries the elegant and imposing image whipped up by comics great Jack Kirby. So well-conceived is the look, even the 90's, a decade rife with needless reinvention of signature characters, saw little to improve (or "improve") in Magneto's look. People fiddle with it every now and then, but it's imposing. It lends a gravity and majesty to the character. And it has something that is overlooked to an inexplicable degree when creating superheroes and villains; An appearance that corresponds with powers. (Or at least, shows he has some overarching "theme" going on) While the depth of the character certainly did not hurt him, it should be noted that he was a reasonably popular recurring villain in the 70's, when the X-Men  title was largely defunct. Once Marvel started getting into the animation game, he was used as a repertory adversary in Spider-Man and Fantastic Four. These early appearances are shallow representations of the character to be sure, but my point is, he's got enough of that punch to work as a shallow icon, and combined with the dimensions he was later given, that's what has made him a contender on all levels.

For a while, his profile even eclipsed that of the heroes' he was created to oppose

The line between "villain" and "supporting character" is sometimes a thin one, at least in Academy Awards terms. In comics, there are villains who are recurring archfoes, and villains who are part of the cast in a very real way. That is, the Joker, or the Red Skull, or whomever Spider-Man considers his foe numero uno this decade are, while part of the mythology of the character and important aspect of the tapestry, they're not part and parcel with the concept. Lex Luthor has evolved into such a character, for his own reasons. And Magneto has become one for the X-Men franchise. He may sometimes appear in every episode of a TV series. He appears in almost every movie. Magneto is more than the X-Men's archfoe. He's in "fifth Beatle" territory. He's part of the cast. Because while duality plays a part in any villain's ascendancy to "worst enemy", Magneto is not just the other side of the coin, but a yin to the protagonist's yang. It's interesting to point out so many prequels disappoint fans, especially where the villains are concerned, because youth seems to paint a less-than-impressive portrait of our favorite cinematic bogeymen. X-Men: First Class, if the reviews are any indication, avoids that trap. I think it's largely because the villainous slides of Darth Vader and Hannibal Lecter came across as terribly arbitrary. Because Magneto has always been back and forth on the fence, any background story on his "fall from grace" is able to be done with more credibility.

It also doesn't hurt that every now and then Magneto will become less explicitly villainous. It's something that's done many, many times in the franchise. Because Magneto extols our sympathies. There's an altruism in our extremism. Like all good characters, especially from the comic book world, Magneto thrives because he is an embodiment of values, and good stories, good conflict, comes from the fiction of pitting his values against the X-Men's (and vicariously, ours). That is to say, the code against killing is considered the number one rule amongst superheroes. While the rule has become more and more contested, (Sometimes through very valid arguments, and sometimes through arguments caused by ridiculous body counts. "Straw holocausts" so contrived as to be completely academic.) the "To kill or not to kill?" question is the watershed that one separates the hero from the anti-hero. It's probably not for nothing Magneto is sometimes allowed into the white hats' clubhouse every now in an era of heroes who will sometimes finish the bad guys off.
While he was not given a lot of depth until the 70's, one wonders if he could have anyways. The Silver Age of comics came off of the prosperous, conformist 50's. Magneto is a very avatar for insurrection, so it may have been hard to put him in the kinds of stories that made him a fan favorite. I think Magneto as we know him, could only come about in the 70's. The anti-establishment streak that has painted post Vietnam culture has caused us to identify with the antagonist a lot of the time, but in this case, we really do find ourselves rooting for the man. In a lot of ways, he's the hero of another story. History has made genuine heroes of men who went out there and smote their enemies for less noble reasons.

It doesn't hurt when your powers, by definition, are a weakness to one of comics' most popular guys

Iconic characters represent some facet of America. Even the antagonists do. Something to remember about America is that we're a nation that came out of rebellion. Rebellion is an inherent part of us. One hundred years later, we had the Civil War, and that insurrection has itself many apologists, though I don't count myself among them. There is an adage that "one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter". Magneto is that adage. Nobody agrees with every attempt to throw off the yoke of oppression. Sometimes they're wrong, or for the wrong reason. Sometimes they're taken to unconscionable ends. But the idea of fighting back against what we perceive as tyranny is always going to be part of the national conversation. Whether it's the Black Panther movement, the Tea Party, or even foreign revolutionaries in countries that we've intervened in, there are always going to be those that call for revolution, and those on the opposite end who feel that revolution is unwarranted, or that we've gone too far. Magneto is not only a revolutionary, but a revolutionary in the face of racism. Racism is the one of those sins, one of those things that takes us down a peg from our position of pioneers of democracy. The U.S. is supposed to be the model of freedom, but the treatment of minorities, of others, in pursuit of greatness is what undermines us.

The compulsion to explore Magneto as an out-and-out good guy is a strong one

 He embodies how rising up against impression is a truly noble thing, but sometimes it gets bogged down in bloodshed and hypocrisy. Magneto is the perfect good/bad guy, because embodies the perfect good/bad thing. It's fitting, maybe serendipitous even, that his powers are based on polarity

Wonder Woman: Holding the Female Fort

America's federal buildings are a part of the backdrop. I always felt there was a reason for that.

Recently, David E. Kelly tried his hand at a Wonder Woman weekly series. The network passed on the pilot, to the relief of some fans who got ahold of the script which kind of found the whole thing to be a bit of a travesty. Even the revamped costume got some bad press that made quite a few headlines. (However, the outfit actually used in the pilot was seen as much better) This has been another setback for Wonder Woman. The mainstream explosion of comic characters has, ironically, passed by the first lady of superherodom.

If you could ask someone to name a superhero, Wonder Woman would definitely be near the top of that list. If you asked for the name of a female superhero, she would practically come up every time, unless you came across a comic-reading smartass naming someone more obscure just to prove he could. The word "iconic" is overused over and over, but Wonder Woman is truly iconic. She is one of those characters who are currently more iconic right now than that economically viable.  She was one of the few characters (namely among DC's "Trinity" of heroes including Superman and Batman) to survive the culling of Golden Age superheroes. As such she was always featured prominently in lineups and press releases and merchandise. But recently, in a major slap-in-the-face to the character, the "trinity" was expanded to a "quorum", but at Diana of Themyscira's expense. The Green Lantern and the Flash--two characters who's secret identities weren't even written out of comics for substantial amounts of times, were included on DC's 75th anniversary buttons when Wonder Woman wasn't. There's just a lot of talk about how the character just can't fit in with the current paradigm, and is only continuously published because of an arcane clause that DC forsakes the rights if they stop publishing her.

Diana Prince is probably the most famous secret ID to be completely dispensed.

She's not only the most famous female superhero, but really the only really prominent one who isn't a derivative of a male superhero (often just created to secure copyright), or a member of a team concept (Like the X-Men features a lot of). One a meta-level, it should be mentioned that she's legally not allowed to guest star on shows, so for her, it's been all or nothing. It's kept her off of Smallville and Batman's 5,730 cartoons. (Which in turn, often turn the "Justice League" episodes into complete sausagefests.) Not much room for sneaking the in the back door there. Charged with the task of holding her own, every new Wonder Woman project is very high stakes, and often under the clout of "Female protagonists don't make bank, especially in the action genre". It should be said that DC's editorial policy has been kind of...good old boy lately. But still, why is it so tough for her?

Blogger Ragnell says that she definitely suffers from revamp after revamp. Icons, especially DC icons, get leveled and reinterpreted every now and then. But Wonder Woman probably suffers from it on an inordinate scale. It's certainly hurt her commercial appeal, as nobody really knows what they're going to get when they pick up the book. Ragnell also points out that an industry that is increasingly catering to males, and a certain type of male, is not best suited to do a character who was created for females, and did a good job at selling to them at that. But are there reasons even the most well-intentioned writers can have trouble with her?

I do think, for one, it's hard to wrap one's head around a character who is the very embodiment of feminism. Not only because it doesn't appeal to the reactionary male readers, (Who I was disappointed made up a large segment of comics readers one fateful day) but because...what is feminism? Writers have a hard enough time writing around the perfection of Superman, but this is a character who's supposed to be, ostensibly at least, ahead of the curve of where women are "supposed to be" in society. Because the fight for equality is always gradual and ever-changing, the superhero who's raison d'etre is that sort of thing is always going to have to have soft reboots and personality changes every now and then. Of course, there's also the problem that feminism, you know, isn't one thing. I've seen arguments that Twilight is anti-feminist because the character sees attaching herself to a controlling guy sends a bad message, and that it is an example of girl power because girls are buying it. Not that I particularly believe the latter point, it's just that this kind of infighting is going to happen on the subject. It boils down to the belief in freedom as negative rights or positive responsibilities. You have to do this with a character who operates on the arc of history. Who's supposed to be a paragon, as opposed to say, Green Arrow or USAgent, who are allowed to be abrasive in their political beliefs as character traits. And all of this written by men half of the time.

Completely out-of-left field revamps that isolate her from other superheroes are par for the course.

I also think there's another element that makes it hard to wrap one's head around her, and this would probably be controversial for many of her fans. Greek Mythology figures heavily into Wonder Woman's backstory, in her opponents, in her supporting cast. In my Thor article, I talk about how the welding of ancient myth and modern superheroes isn't always that seamless. You have fans of the genre who can be put off by all the mystical elements. You also run the risk that everyone always has their own opinion on representing myths, and thus the concept continuously gets overhauled to make it more "accurate". (George Perez famously revamped the character in the 80's, bringing back Themysicara as opposed to the more anglicized "Paradise Island", and much of everything looked more authentically Hellenic than the generalized Classical style of previous decades)  But the problem is, when half the figures of her book are of public domain, than they're not really part of "her" mythology, are they? A fight with Ares is always fun, but doesn't truly distinguish her from Xena. And many of her fans don't see a problem with it. I've seen many comments along the line of "Play up the mythological aspects! Play it up! It separates her from the other superheroes". But in my opinion it does separate her. Separates her right out of the genre.

It's very odd that a character from the Greek world (Or a world that was created from Greek Myth) would be the goodwill embassador for women in comics. But I think there's something important to remember. The United States of America modeled itself after the Greco-Roman world. Our architecture, our names for government bodies. We basically modeled ourselves after the classical world. We could draw parallels between Washington and Athens, and interpret Wonder Woman's mission as to "Man's World" as to make sure we don't make the same mistakes. That we live up to the mantle of responsibility and name of "democracy". One has to remember the mythical Amazons were not Greek. They were alien presence, even to other Greeks. So one does not have to tether Wonder Woman and her world to a strict Greek background, just the broad strokes of Classicism, or Neoclassicism as it were. The Amazons are a Matriarchal society that will adopt the model of the number one democratic power, and hope that we will return the favor. A stray minotaur and the like is always fun, but there's no reason to turn Wonder Woman into a toga-wearing Thor. Think about it, the Middle Ages were thus called because the Classical world was seen as much more advanced. The Utopia of Paradise Island should present itself as a world that never entered its Dark Ages. My general point I''m trying to make is, like all superheroes, Wonder Woman should be about the glory of the future. Of aspirations. The mystical stuff makes for a nice background, but her world should have a veneer of modernity, if not industry. Especially a character who's explicitly here to show us how to make things better.

Fans are often outraged at how folks treat her like the only thing she's a symbol of is sex.

Is Wonder Woman going to be forever resigned to dwindling readers, and no major media adaptations? Not necessarily. It's not been a great decade for her, but let me put it this way; At the beginning of the decade, the Hal Jordan Green Lantern was not being published monthly. In fact, he had very rarely carried his own title at all since the 1960's. But force of will from a creator (and editor) that had an intense love for him made him a franchise all his own, and of course, the upcoming movie. Wonder Woman has been having a tough time lately, but the arc of history bends towards justice. And Wonder Woman is a character who exists to exemplify the arc of history.

Thor: Weathering Two Worlds

The Edda meets the Marvel Age of Comics

 Thor occupies an interesting place in the Marvel universe, and its publishing empire in general. He is sometimes treated as one of the company's flagship icons, and alternately like its red-headed stepchild. (An irony I couldn't even begin to get into) I would, in fact say, when you go through the hierarchy of Marvel's properties, he's the first to have what you could call "hiccups" in popularity, before you get to the next tier like Dr. Strange and Submariner. Though considered one of the Avengers' "Big Three", if there is a culling, he will be the first to go. There are periods where he'll disappear, and the book's lead will be some kind of replacement-Thor. There are times where his book will be off the shelves completely. Even times when he's written out of the Marvel Universe completely. Why is it the company and management are so bi-polar about the character's priority?

He started out with some reasonably compelling details. When originally brought into comics, he had, strangely enough, his own mild-mannered "secret identity", a doctor with a lame leg. For a decade, his main love interest was Jane Foster, and that itself created a recipe for stories. The concept of an immortal in love with a mortal has been a very popular premise in various TV and movies. There's always good conflict to be found Odin wishing Thor would spend more time at home, and being met with "Ah don't want your (eternal) lahf!) Loki was transferred from Odin's adopted brother to Thor's, and the dynamic has worked so well that most popular media has followed suit when adapting Norse Myth. It's royal intrigue, with the noble-but-headstrong brother vs. the snake-in-the-grass.
                                       
As I've mentioned many, many times before, the comic book superhero is the latest incarnation of the mythological superhero. Same purpose as avatar of values. Martial beings with great powers. So the idea of taking an actual mythological God and transferring him into a superhero setting is a natural fit.

Sometimes, however, it's as easy as a young adult moving back into their parents' house.

Early on, the conception was so vague, Thor seemed to be a suit one wears, as opposed to a person.

Comics may be the new heroic sagas, but there's always going to be chaffing with mythological characters. Comics, for the most part, are science-based, or at least modern in their cadence. Maybe it's a ludicrous double standard to be perfectly able to accept a man can, through radiation, increase his mass to become the strongest being on the planet, but not magic hammers. But even if it's an arbitrary aesthetic, it's still an aesthetic. Comics are a visual medium. Besides, science is so important in superhero comics, because, unlike the legends of old, the common theme of the superhero is an embracing of the future, not the glories of the past. It's fun to have an ancient God of Thunder running around, but utilizing the mystical and storybook-based stuff, there's a subconscious sense it's going backwards. There's also a tendency for them to be American. Even though Thor strangely feels more "English" than truly Norwegian,  there's something of an alien presence when a character and his lore aren't from the states. It should be said that international heroes always have a struggle fitting in, except for Wolverine. (And Canada, of course, isn't vastly foreign, bags of milk notwithstanding.)

On the other end of the scale, while superhero purists may not like chocolate in their peanut butter, mythology buffs may not care for peanut butter in their chocolate. When first conceived, Thor was a garden-variety (albeit very powerful) crime fighter. He fought aliens, time-travelers, foreign dictators, even gangsters. He was replete with a secret identity and a mortal love interest (despite the mythological Thor being off the market vis a vis Sif). The kinds of things one would extract from the Eddic Sagas would only slowly creep in, and at times vary wildly from the actual stories and characters Vikinings regale each other with. What happens though, is if the kind of person who would be more at home with a Spider-Man or Fantastic Four doesn't want to do the character, then it may in fact go to someone who wants to do Thor because he's heavily into Norse Mythology, and sees the original Lee-Kirby take as an astro-turf version. What then happens is, that author goes more heavily into the classic elements, and leaves more and more of the modern, superhero trappings behind...until Thor is no longer a superhero book. The temptation to place him more firmly in the fantasy genre is strong. The superhero genre does have a pretty heavy hold over the medium, and so Thor may provide a way out. Likewise, the popularity of the Lord of the Rings franchise had many wondering if they could explore that avenue.

Every now and then, creators feel Thor doesn't look like a sufficient Viking, and try to rectify that.

It probably doesn't help to write an all-powerful,, immortal character. The most popular characters tend to be at least moderate in the powers they possess, (Superman has kind of been grandfathered in, and even then, you get the sense some writers and readers find him to be the white elephant of storytelling) and there are types who find a character who is explicitly immortal to kill drama. (Every now and again, they dangle to threat of Ragnarok, a sort of Norse Book of Revelations, but that's the kind of thing that some feel loses its punch in longform storytelling like comics) Plus, it's one thing to be all-powerful, but Thor is really, really old. Millennia old. The really ancient and well-versed forces of good in heroic fiction are the mentor. So readers may sometimes find themselves unable to relate to the Thunder God. There's also the possibility some may not be the most comfortable with pagan figures (An idea explored in the comics stories themselves)Finally, it should be mentioned that he's by and far the glamor boy of Marvel's roster, which may breed resentment amongst the a fanbase that was built on characters like Spider-Man, the Hulk and the Thing.

Contrary to popular belief, Marvel didn't invent the Apollo-ish "Goldilocks" Thor

It's the hazards of genre-busting when the genre holds almost an entire medium hostage. Stan Lee and Jack Kirby helped firmly establish his superhero credentials early on, and the comics world's very, very strong sense of nostalgia helps keep him afloat. But the character and the line of comics sometimes find themselves having to "take a break", and he has very clear waxings and wanings in popularity. We'll see if the new movie helps him wax.

Why this Blog?

I've always been a fan of comics growing up. Besides the colorful adventures, there's just something about them that has gone inside me head. I think in many ways, I'm not a completely visual person, or a complete verbal person, but somewhere in between. The artform is, in my opinion, not a cheat. Nor confusing. It's its own special language. Comics are about taking the conceptual, and solidifying them. People always talk about comics as the American mythology because of the "Gods had powers, heroes have powers" parable, but I think that's only an infinitesimal part of it.What comics do is take values, symbolhs, aspects of the universe both elemental and philisophical, and make them incarnate. Whether it's as a crimefighter who dresses like an American flag, or just the very embodiments of words and sounds into a visual manifestation. Many ancient religions, including Judaism, believed there was a very real power in names. Oaths and curses in the ancient world were considered binding, and to be taken seriously. In my estimation, there's something of a mysticism in cartooning, an invoking of the abstract into the palpable, and wielding a certain power with it. As Grant Morrison said, "Batman is probably more real than I am".

I'm something of a social watcher too. For years, I tracked box-office. Not because I felt how much money a movie made validated its existence, but because dollars are people. People who have consciously or by compulsion sculpted the cultural landscape. Of course, with the large proliferation of sequels, I've kind of been less fascinated by it. (Not so much that sequels aren't good, but the box-office of Harry Potter six isn't going to give me any new information) I like observing trends. People, it should be said, are incredibly fickle. When a thesis on why something exploded is made, the evidence is anecdotal. There's also a lot of quantifying in introspection, which I don't particularly care for.

This isn't going to be a blog on why I like particular characters. I'm not going to explore the in-story histories like an encyclopedia. (If say, you want to catch up on Captain America or Green Lantern, Comics 101 is probably better for that. Or you could just wiki them.) Nor am I going to do "Top ten best stories featuring",  since while execution is all well and good, it's only a small part of it. (And in fact, every now and then, I'll be talking about how a character is "execution-reliant". For instance, Daredevil.) But what I want to do is talk about the impact characters have. Why some are more popular. Why are some easier to draw or merchandise. I mean, sure, every pop-psychologist will tell you how this character changed everything, or that character was the first to. But I want to explore how flexible they are. How enduring. How rich their mythologies may be. I want to be very big-picture about this. John Seavy's "Storytelling Engine" series is actually  a pretty cool place to look at the history of some comics characters. (Note that a bad engine doesn't necessarily exclude a character from being a top tier. The Hulk is assessed to have a bad one, but I'll get to that whole thing later.)

I certainly have a  wealth of subjects. I can do the truly enduring (Superman), to the trendy (Spawn). I can cover characters who are so ingenious it hurts (Spider-Man), to characters so pointless it...hurts. (Like say, the Black Knight) But I hope you'll come visit as I explore comic book icons' place in the cultural landscape.