… Stand up and keep your childishness:
Read all the pedants’ screeds and strictures;
But don’t believe in anything
That can’t be told in coloured
pictures.
Chesterton would not have liked many of the
stories told in coloured pictures by American comic books, which these days
tend to dystopia and sado-eroticism – an all-too predictable reflection of the
present state of our culture. But some he would
have liked, and I dare to think I could show him my own comic collection
without (much) embarrassment.
My personal golden age of comics was in the
late 60s and 1970s, when I would roam the streets of London looking for the
latest American imports: Batman or Green Lantern, The Fantastic Four or The
Mighty Thor, and a dozen other titles, illustrated by such artists as Neal Adams, the Buscema
brothers, Jack “King” Kirby, or Jim Steranko. Kirby it was
who, in partnership with Stan “the Man” Lee, gave us most of the great Marvel
heroes, including the Hulk, Thor, Captain America, and the Silver Surfer, and
his heavily emblematic and dynamic style influenced generations of later
artists. A quick scurry through Marvel-related entries in Wikipedia will
explain what I am talking about, if you don’t already know. You’ll find plenty
of coloured pictures, too.
True, nearly all the comics I’m talking
about featured punch-ups between costumed heroes and villains, and yes, there
was an assortment of buxom females in tight costumes, but the appeal of the
comics went deeper than that. It was the brilliance of the artistry (despite
the muddy inks on cheap paper), and the way the caped crusaders tapped into archetypal,
almost mythic stories, not the display of anatomy, that appealed most to me.
Honestly, it was. Kirby in particular mined ancient mythology without apology
to construct pantheon after pantheon of super-powered beings, ending up (at
Marvel’s rival DC, publisher of Superman and Batman) with a race explicitly called the New Gods.
Superman, the progenitor of all these
characters (eventually Kirby got to draw him too), was Samson and Hercules in
coloured tights. After his debut in Action
Comics in 1938, it didn’t take him long to become a cultural icon. If the “superman”
of Nietzsche transcended conventional morality, Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster’s
Superman, adopted refugee from the planet Krypton and avowed defender of peace,
justice, and the earth itself, accepted and upheld the moral code taught by his
adopted parents in Smallville, Martha and Jonathan Kent. Right up to today, he is one of the
few superheroes who remain relatively untainted by moral compromise. He doesn’t even kill;
he puts villains in jail.
It has taken until now for CGI to catch up
with the comics. The new wave of superhero movies, especially those from the Marvel studio, boast special effects that make the earlier Superman films starring Christopher Reeve look like vintage
episodes of Doctor Who, with monsters
of cardboard and cellophane. One film in particular, the recent Avengers film (titled Avengers Assemble in
the UK), is widely described as the superhero film that comic fans have been waiting decades to see. Anyone who sneers at it has simply never enjoyed a comic book. Up
until now, superhero films have focused on one hero at a time; now the movies
can do what has long delighted the fans of the comic: create teams of heroes
and villains, and crossovers between one comic-book franchise and another. “The
Avengers is what we call ourselves. Earth’s mightiest heroes type thing,”
explains the billionaire genius philanthropist Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man) to
the villainous Asgardian god Loki, moments before being thrown through a
skyscraper window.
The Avengers are assembled by Nick Fury
(Samuel L. Jackson), Director of the secret agency S.H.I.E.L.D., with the aim
of defending the earth against the alien army commanded by Thor’s brother. They include Captain America (Marvel’s moral equivalent to the early Superman), Iron Man (billionaire inventor in a flying suit), the Hulk (Bruce Banner, a scientist who
bulks up big and green when angry), the god of thunder on assignment from
Asgard, and two normal humans with heightened abilities, Hawkeye (archer
with trick arrows) and Black Widow (former Russian spy and martial arts
expert). The first half of the film shows our heroes squabbling, but the
self-sacrificing example of a secondary (human) character, Agent Coulson, gives
them the “push” they need to become a team capable of setting their egos aside
and saving the world – represented, of course, mainly by Manhattan.
“There is only one God, Ma’m, and I’m
pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that,” quips Captain America, in reference to
the Asgardians. The line is a suitable one from the “old fashioned” Captain,
who last saw action in World War Two (against a much worse villain than Hitler)
and has only recently been thawed out of the polar ice where he was buried after
saving the world the last time round. But, as Coulson says, “the world needs a
bit of ‘old-fashioned’.”
We all need guardian angels. In fact the
Catholic Church teaches that we each have one – a supernatural entity assigned
at conception, not to dominate us, but to prevent us being dominated; to defend
us against our supernatural enemies, giving us the space to live our human
lives in a world that is much bigger and scarier than we think (what the
Rangers do for the Shire in The Lord of the
Rings). Comic-book superheroes and supervillains are the angels and demons
of this cosmic spiritual warfare reinvented for the secular imagination, and
they resonate with us because on some level we know that we need them. At the
same time, they give us something to aspire to (the corresponding Christian
doctrine is theosis or divinization
by grace). These are not all protectors sent to us from outside – like the boy
from Krypton, or Thor – more often they are ordinary human beings (Peter
Parker, Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark, Hal Jordan) who by providential accident or
brilliant design find themselves possessed of a power beyond the lot of
mortals. And “with great power comes great responsibility”, as they quickly
learn. These are flawed human beings who have to become heroes, fighting
alongside the guardian angels for the right of human beings to live a
meaningful life. (“I have come to set them free,” says Loki. “Free from what?”
asks Fury. “Freedom,” comes the reply.)
The story that these “coloured pictures”
are trying to tell us is certainly old-fashioned enough, but we never tire of
hearing it. It is, as Chesterton would say, a fairy tale that holds more wisdom
than most modern novels. Good and evil are real, and we define our identity and
free our souls by becoming identified with the good. Heroes are not made by a burst of gamma
radiation or a fancy metal suit; they are forged in a moral struggle, and the true
hero is the one who is prepared to give his life to save others. And there is
another way in which the coloured pictures tell the truth. Alien hordes and
false gods are out there, waiting for their chance; waiting for someone to open
the door to them. There is a spiritual battle going on all around us, and
everyday life is part of something much bigger, something cosmic. Avengers, assemble!
Really enjoyed this piece
ReplyDeleteI am agree with you Francesca. I also enjoyed this.
DeleteI really enjoyed this piece as well, as I also really enjoyed The Avengers. Also I thought it might interest you to know that there is a comic book company that tells the story of real life heroes (saints, Pope Benedict XVI): http://www.mangahero.com/
ReplyDeleteThank you for your blog!
Thank you. Did you ever read the two weekly comics edited by the C of E priests, Chad Varah and Marcus Morris: Girl, and Eagle? On the back cover they had comic-strip serials of saints, male and female, and other heroic figures. 'Royal Margaret', about St. Margaret of Scotland, was the first in Girl, in around 1952.
ReplyDeleteThey are in the Colindale branch of the British Library. I was converted by Royal Margaret, at the age of 9.
Wow, that's really interesting! Yes, I do know those comics, in fact I grew up with Eagle myself, and hope to write about this soon. (They are in the Bodleian Library too, here in Oxford. I once ordered them up to my desk to be sure.) I recently gave my wife the reprinted collection "The Best of Girl" (2011), which doesn't include St Margaret but does have "Persia's Lady Mary", telling the missionary adventures of Mary Bird.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading this. Like many people (alright, many geeky men) I love the worlds of superheroes found in comic books, and I agree with you that they can be a great way to explore spiritual and moral truth. Please write more geeky comic posts...
ReplyDelete