“I’m for everyone.”
So says Superman in this week’s Action Comics #863, the conclusion of “Superman and the Legion of Super-Heroes.” The story involves a battle over Superman’s public image, and sets up a miniseries sure to be filled with alternate versions of characters (including one still in litigation) and metacommentary on the same. Thus, Action #863 was an issue which I found impossible to read without thinking of last week’s ruling.
My first reaction to “I’m for everyone” was, naturally, that it affirmed Superman’s egalitarian nature. Even though it was obviously written without any knowledge of this past week’s events, I saw in it a refutation of any one person’s claim on Superman. Superman belongs to the world, we’ve been told; and last week helped confirm that he didn’t solely belong to DC Comics Inc.
However, “I’m for everyone” can also bolster those fans who reacted with horror and anger to the ruling; and who see Superman as belonging more to DC than to a couple of lucky family members exploiting a legal loophole. Still, I imagine those fans don’t really cede complete ownership of Superman to DC either. After all, it’s not like Superman belongs to Wayne Boring, Curt Swan, Al Plastino, Elliott Maggin, Cary Bates, John Byrne, Grant Morrison, or any of the dozens of professionals who’ve worked on his adventures. Why would he belong to a soulless corporation? If Superman belongs to any one group, it might as well be those who’ve supported his adventures over seventy years … right? Without fans buying comic books and action figures and movie tickets and DVDs, Superman would have been as dead as Krypton long ago.
That’s not how it works, though. Without Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, there wouldn’t have been a Superman; and for too long DC exploited their creation without properly acknowledging them. This isn’t a story about a lost puppy having to choose between his first owner and his current one. It’s about the men who created the original superhero having to give up control of their creation just to continue to work on him.
Thankfully, with Jeff Trexler around, I don’t have to dwell on those details. Instead, let’s look at this in terms of last week’s discussion about plot.
As you’ll remember, what I’m calling “plot” is, basically, my loose shorthand for the internally consistent continuous narrative which describes a character (or particular version thereof). In the corporate superhero-serial context, however, plot can also define character. We tend to analyze this relationship in an armchair-psychologist sort of way. It’s more nurture than nature, such that events explain motivations. If Clark dons the suit after the Kents’ natural deaths, that’s one thing; but if they die of an alien virus while Clark is Superboy, you’d think that would nudge him in a slightly different direction. (And, of course, if Superboy is just an ordinary kid with powers, wrested from his home and stuck in a limbo-dimension for twenty years, that turns him into something else entirely.)
Therefore, if the Superman of (for example) 1968 comes from a different set of circumstances than the Superman of 1938, how do we reconcile them? How do we judge whether DC is doing right by the character?
Well, for a while DC basically ignored the 1938 version, and got tremendous mileage out of building a mythology which incorporated the Superboy adventures. Eventually, DC explained that the original Superman (or a very similar analogue) hadn’t entirely gone away — he just lived on Earth-2. This let the two coexist, one distinguished as the original, and the other spotlighted as the company’s going concern. It wasn’t an equal coexistence, though, since the Earth-1 Superman literally got more press; and his version tended to dominate.
I suspect no one is surprised at that. DC’s economic interests lie mostly with the current versions of its characters. However, things start to get complicated when we start asking about the “definitive” versions. I’ve covered this ground before, but it’s worth repeating: DC’s most significant characters aren’t connected to their creators through these sorts of singular continuous chronicles. If we’re interested in the current stories’ fidelity to the originals, this lack of such chronicles makes our determinations that much harder.
Why, though, are we still interested in the originals? After all, at this point it’s not like the creators of Superman, Batman & Robin, or Wonder Woman have produced a significant portion of those characters’ adventures. Writers and artists (and even actors and directors) of more recent vintage have arguably contributed more to the current “definitions” of those characters. The Golden Age stories are good for historical value, perhaps, but not much more. What’s important is what’s happening now.
Well, put simply, I don’t buy it. For one thing, it’s too simplistic to consider the current version of a character the “real” one. Odds are any given superhero fan cares at least a little about whether a story “counts” in continuity — in other words, whether it adds to the current narrative. Nevertheless, that narrative can be changed, or even discarded, as quickly as it takes to turn a page.
Just for the sake of argument, let’s assume there have been four major comic-book Supermen since 1938: Earth-2, Earth-1, Post-Crisis, and Post-Infinite Crisis. Is the one on display in Action #863 more “real” than the one introduced in Action #1? What about John Byrne’s Superman from Action #600, or Marty Pasko’s and Curt Swan’s from #500? Clearly, none of those, regardless of their own merits, can claim to be “more true” to the spirit of Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster’s creation than the creation itself.
Sometimes, though, the creators don’t help the analysis. After all, by pitching DC on the idea of “Superboy,” Jerry Siegel may have made possible a separate Superman with a distinct origin. Likewise, Bill Finger wrote “Batman Meets Bat-Mite” and “The Interplanetary Batman,” both pretty far from “The Case Of The Chemical Syndicate.” As for Wonder Woman’s creators, I doubt DC would want to do a straight-up homage to a typical William Moulton Marston/Harry Peter story. Lucky for DC that its rights to Batman and Wonder Woman seem pretty secure.
Still, each of those creators infused their characters with particular attributes that survive across variations. Accordingly, if a creator’s voice can be heard, why not listen to it? The Siegel heirs aren’t Jerry Siegel himself, but I suspect their perspective on his wishes is as least as informed as Geoff Johns’ or James Robinson’s.
And that’s the thing about “I’m for everyone”: it’s corny, but it’s true. I have “my” Superman. You have yours. Geoff Johns has his. Joanne Siegel and Laura Siegel Larson have theirs. Superman has become a global symbol for goodness, kitsch, America, Jesus, you name it. However, at the heart of all of our Supermen is the inspiration of two Depression-era kids from Cleveland. Whatever Superman represents, whatever he’s become, he wouldn’t be here at all without them. Superman’s creators occupy a special place in our shared culture, and they don’t deserve to be marginalized.
Last week’s ruling isn’t the end of Superman. It’s an opportunity for DC to rediscover his roots. The closer the Siegel heirs and DC can come to evoking Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster’s original vision, the better Superman will be.
April 3rd, 2008 at 12:26 pm
The less DC uses him as a punching bag for other villains and heroes alike, the better Superman will be too.
Aside from Morrison’s All-Star run, Superman has been something less than “Super” for some time, IMO. A more “bad ass” Supes might seem to run counter to how many envision Supes, but it is more in line with the original Siegel & Shuster vision, based on what I’ve seen of the early tales.
But as you say, we all have “our” own Supes.
Interesting that you mention DC’s hold on Batman and Wonder Woman to be pretty tight. What, if anything, is stop Bats and Wondy from entering the public domain one day?
If the stuff I’ve been reading here is correct, it sounds like Supes will pass into the PD one way, even if it’s not going to be until well into the second half of this century, and there’s little that can be done to stop it?
Few of us here now will be around to see that, but it would be interesting to see what happens to those beloved characters in the distant future.
April 4th, 2008 at 12:06 pm
The modern-day Superman is smothered by his significance–as an icon, as the “first” hero, as a benevolent god. The original low-powered Superman was *free to act*. That was the whole idea. He had the strength, the confidence and the will to right the system’s wrongs.
The modern, infinitely powerful, ultra-responsible version, is defined more by the constraints of his conscience, his relationships, and his nature as a corporate mark. Stories are more often rooted in all the things he would never do, or can’t do, than in the amazing things he can do. When people today say Superman is boring, I think that’s what they’re reacting to.