Confessions of a Comic Book Guy is a weekly column by retailer Steve Bennett of Mary Alice Wilson's Dark Star Comics in
First, last week I said something snotty to the effect the British comic book industry had gone 'belly up,' when it's doing quite nicely, thank you very much. It's just the weeklies which once published adventure material that aren't doing so well (they're down to just one -- 2000 AD). But instead there are lots of large glossy magazines (which have articles, pin-ups, posters, contests and free gifts; in short, they're everything I wish the flimsy American comic book could be) of licensed material intended mostly for kids. But it's real unlikely a British writer could sell A Man Called Kev to a Wallace & Gromit comic.
A couple of weeks ago, after seeing a naked Mad Hatter on the final page of Secret Six #1, I asked, 'Whose idea of fun is this?' And since I raised the question it's only fair I provide the answer as given on the blog of the comics writer, Gail Simone. I've pared it down some, but essentially she says:
'Okay, just like all of you, I started comics when I was young, and I would sometimes become frustrated with elements of a story. A character might have their dignity taken away, or behave in a way that I felt lessened them. These are characters I love, how DARE they behave in ways less perfect than I envisioned for them?
Naturally, I immediately blamed the writer. Again, how DARE they ruin this character? It's obvious that they have Scuba-Man (or whoever) AND their audience (me) and why was I still giving them money, anyway?
Later, years later sometimes, it would turn out that oftentimes, I couldn't even REMEMBER most stories I'd read featuring these beloved characters, but, again, oftentimes I could remember quite well the ones that made me mad, or upset, or distressed. In hindsight these were some of my favorite stories.
How many stories have you read, where in the end, you felt that the writer was pandering to you, giving you exactly what the message boarders say they want, giving you the empty calories of, 'Here, this is what you asked for. I've written it just as requested.'
I'm a writer. It's my job to lie and cheat and deceive you. To trick you, to upset you, to make you feel bad at times, to make you dislike the characters we both care about so much. Anyone can give you an X-Men issue full of 22 pages of fastball specials and Wolverine killing robots. It's takes a writer to have Wolverine do something stupid or awful, and let you feel a little bit of that, and still (hopefully) bring you back.
Yes, we want our heroes to triumph, but if there isn't also the possibility, of failure, of temptation, then I submit this question to you - what in god's name is the point? If you truly love your readers, you will do them the very great favor of poking them with an ice pick, just a little; when they reach down to smell your roses.'
That's telling me. I suppose I should say, first and foremost, I have nothing against Gail Simone, her writing or the comics she's written for, and that in no way should this be mistaken an attack on her, personal or otherwise. But...
Oddly enough, in theory I agree with most of what she said. It is a writers job to put their protagonists in harms way, like it's their job to (a certain degree, anyway) torment the reader -- in the 'How are they going to get out of this one?' sense of the word.
After all, isn't that what guys like Harold Gray (Little Orphan Annie), Chester Gould (Dick Tracy) or Milton Caniff (Terry & the Pirates) did seven days a week in the funny pages? They made as much trouble as possible for their heroes so readers could hardly wait to see what happened to them next, and what writers like Gail Simone are doing isn't all that much different; though I don't think the aforementioned gentlemen would have said their job was to make the reader dislike their characters.
But of course it's no longer the 30s and a modern, more sophisticated audience requires the definition of 'peril' be expanded to include emotional distress. So it's fine with me that the current crop of super-heroes are more complex, more human, more like us, and realize their adventures have to be as much about how they feel as what they do. So, clearly, I'm not asking for super-hero comics to return to the Golden (well, Silver) Age of giant typewriters.
To answer her question, the point is it's supposed to be fun, and frankly, it's not any fun seeing a hero's dignity taken away if they never get it back (think of Batman, suffering humiliating defeat after humiliating defeat at the hands of the Black Mask, without a denouement; that's bad writing). And that, I think, is where the real problem lies; our heroes become our whipping boys -- they're there to take our beatings for us. Which wouldn't be so bad, if the people in charge of them would only remember; it's the heroes who are supposed to win.
Maybe it is just me, but I have to ask, is this what readers want to read? What retailers want to sell?
Because I say it's spinach, and I say the hell with it.
