I am obviously a fan of comic books as an art form. This blog is a testament to the copious amount of time I spend on them: reading about them, obsessing over them, writing about them. Comics often tell tales that move me deeply, in ways even the best works of literature can't do. At the end of the day, someone reading all seven volumes of "Remembrance of Things Past" will still spend a finite amount of time with its characters. Conversely, someone who purchased "Action Comics" #1 in 1938 could still be reading about Superman 80 years later. (I hope someone is!) In other words, the serial nature of comics allows these characters to work their way into your life in a way Proust's characters cannot.
It's why what Marvel did to Kitty and Piotr in "X-Men Gold" #30 and DC did to Bruce and Selina in "Batman" #50 are unforgivable sins. It's why Marvel turning its back on some of its most innovative new series (and DC not even trying to innovate) makes me wonder why I'm still reading comics. Lately, DC and Marvel are telling us nothing will ever change. In so doing, they're telling me I know what stories I'm going to be reading five to ten years from now: "Civil War III," "Infinity Wars and BEYOND," "Maximum Cloneage Redux," etc. If comics are going to survive, they need to stop desperately trying to stay in 1968 at worst and 1992 at best.
The Problem with the Weddings
I feel like the only conclusion you can draw from "Batman" #50 and "X-Men Gold" #30 is that DC and Marvel believe their writers to be talentless hacks who can only tell the same stories over and over again and their readers to be mindless drones who can only read the same stories over and over again. I can't see any other conclusion, as sharply worded as that might be. The editors just don't believe their writers are sufficiently creative to let their characters evolve. In dumping Bruce, Selina says that Batman can't be happy and fight crime, so she's sacrificing her happiness for Gotham's. In dumping Peter, Kitty argues she can't marry him given it took them so long to get to the altar.
These positions are incredibly cynical. Simply because Batman has always been miserable while fighting crime doesn't mean he has to be miserable to fight crime. Does DC think police officers should be monks? In marrying Selina, Bruce could easily have found new motivation to make the world a better place. He could fight for a world where he, his wife, his son, and his surrogate sons don't have to put on spandex and fight crime every night. It's just as heroic of a motivation (if not more of one) as his misery-born need to ensure another child doesn't suffer the loss he suffered. In fact, Selina herself says Bruce hasn't matured at all since that day in Crime Alley. It's just hard to believe the editors at DC really believe that. All these experiences and he's still the boy he was? On the Marvel side, you have to wonder how long the editors feel is an appropriate amount of time to wait before getting married. My husband and I were together for seven years before the Supreme Court ruled same-sex marriage constitutional. Does Marvel believe we should've just called it quits because it took us so long to get to the altar?
To make matters worse, both women are portrayed as making impulsive decisions as a result of input from their best friends. Holly tells Selina she thinks Bruce can only be Batman if he's miserable, and Illyana raises her doubts with Kitty when pressed. Selina and Kitty then respond as if these doubts never occurred to them. To believe the events of these issues, you have to believe Selina and Kitty aren't the capable, confident, and insightful women they clearly are. It's a lot to ask.
These colossal failures of imaginations are bad enough, but my disappointment with these issues goes beyond that. DC and Marvel hyped both events for weeks, building up the excitement by offering a number tie-in issues. The "Prelude to the Wedding" books DC published were some of the best Batman stories ever told. (The Marvel ones...not so much.) Nothing in either set of prelude issues implied either member of the happy couples had any doubts. Why would Kitty propose to Piotr if she worried about their long path to the altar? Why tell Damian she had his back if Selina worried she couldn't marry his father? Why risk hurting Dick's feelings by selecting Clark as his best man if Bruce didn't think the wedding would happen? If I remember correctly, "Batman Annual" #2 showed Selina with Bruce in his final days. In other words, King never even slipped in a moment of doubt there. Sure, he had some cockamamie excuse for why Batman and Catwoman, and not Bruce and Selina, were getting married. But, otherwise, it was (allegedly) the real deal. It again advocates this belief that both Selina and Kitty made impulsive decisions to agree to get married in the first place and equally impulsive ones to end their engagements. It's like DC and Marvel are the embarrassed parents of the bride who called off her wedding apologizing to everyone who spent money to travel to the wedding. Except, they knew the bride was going to cancel the wedding before the tickets were bought.
But, it's not just my disappointment in the stories that drives my anger. Between the "Prelude to the Wedding" mini-series and the X-Men's "Wedding Special," I spent $24.95 on related issues. My sister asked me to buy her two copies of "Batman" #50 so she could frame one. At some point, it's hard not to feel like DC and Marvel are taking advantage of me, turning my enthusiasm for their product against me. It's moments like these where I feel a little silly reading comic books as a grown man. I start to wonder why I'm reading these stories if the characters aren't allowed to progress beyond adolescence. To make matters worse, DC and Marvel aren't even allowing us to be a 2018 adolescent; they're forcing us to be 1968 adolescents.
The Fading of Diversity
With the cancellation of "Generation X," "Hawkeye," and "Iceman" (to name a few), Marvel has virtually turned its back on any story that doesn't involve single, white men taking out their rage with their fists. (DC never even tried to tell these stories, so at least Marvel deserves some credit for the effort.) By my count of the relevant Wikipedia page, Marvel is currently running 29 solo series featuring men, 14 series featuring teams, nine series focused on events, seven series featuring a duo, and six solo series featuring women. As far as I'm aware, only five of the solo series feature non-white characters: "Black Panther," "Rise of the Black Panther," "Lando: Double or Nothing," "Ms. Marvel," and "Star Wars: Dr. Aphra." (It's notable two of the diverse series are "Star Wars" ones.) I believe Aphra is the only non-straight character with a solo series. If I'm feeling generous, we can look at the duos and add in Cloak from "Cloak and Dagger" and Moon Girl from "Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur." But then we also have to add in Ant-Man and the Wasp (twice), Dagger, Ben Grimm and Johnny Storm, Devil Dinosaur, Gambit and Rogue, and Deadpool and Spider-Man. As I said, it's mostly straight, white men taking out their rage with their fists.
For me, canceling "Hawkeye" in particular felt like Marvel abandoning an innovative title whose creative team obviously put great care into the story it was telling. It was easy to see a future where Kate split her time between superhero-related adventures and regular-person cases, giving Marvel a rare title that didn't focus entirely on the good guys punching the bad guys into submission. Instead, they canceled "Hawkeye" and gave us "The Sentry."
"Generation X" and "Iceman" trod more familiar ground when it came to the punching, but they were groundbreaking because they focused on LGBTQIA+ themes. "Generation X" was a cornucopia of queer kids, from Benjamin and Nathaniel's burgeoning romance to Quentin's undefined orientation. In fact, Nathaniel's powers --being able to see the inner-most thoughts of any person he touches -- were a made-to-order nightmare for a teenager. They reminded me of Miles Morales once expressing concern over Jean Grey reading his mind because she'd see a lot of "teenage-boy stuff." Christina Strain gave Benjamin and Nathaniel a happy ending because Benjamin's feelings for Nathaniel were so all-consuming (as teenagers' feelings tend to be) they eliminated any possibility of Nathaniel seeing something he couldn't handle. But, how interesting would it be to see where they found themselves in 40, 50 issues? That would be some fertile ground for storytelling. One of the best stories I've read in the last few years is when Gillen introduced doubt into Billy's relationship with Teddy in "Young Avengers." Strain had a lot of places to go with that. Combined with Bobby Drake's journey in "Iceman," "Generation X" allowed my middle-aged self some sense of wish fulfillment, as I got to see people like me represented in a way I hadn't seen before. But, then Marvel lowered the boom.
This situation got worse from there. Jane Foster gave up the hammer. Sam Wilson passed on the shield and couldn't even maintain a solo title. Bruce Banner, Logan, and Tony Stark have all returned from the dead, replacing their Asian-American, African-American, and female analogues. Everything is "normal" again.
I raise the diversity issue in the same post as the marriage discussion as I think they both stem from the same problem, a preference on the part of editors to tell the same stories they were telling in 1992 and, in some cases, 1968. Bruce Wayne can have sex with every socialite in Gotham, but he can't be married to the woman he loves. Sam Wilson can support Captain America in his crusade for freedom, but he can't carry that burden himself. Thor Odinson, Steve Rogers, and Tony Stark have to lead the Avengers. Dick Grayson has returned to Blüdhaven. It's not only that I increasingly don't recognizing the world I see in the DC and Marvel comics I read; it's that DC and Marvel seem so committed to keeping it that way.
An Argument for Change
I read this excellent piece (yes, I know it's a year old) that really got me thinking about the comics I was reading and buying: http://www.comicsbeat.com/titling-at-windmillls-259-what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-marvel-comics-anyway/. As someone says in the comment section, John Walker was a great Captain America exactly because he was a terrible Captain America. Mark Greenwood was able to tell stories we didn't expect, because John reacted in ways Steve wouldn't. I still remember -- 32 years later! -- the expression on John Walker's face as he left Left-Winger and Right-Winger to burn to death in an oil fire. (In retrospect, that might not have been the most appropriate comic for a ten-year-old.) In other words, good stories come from shaking up the status quo.
Marvel seemed to have learned that lesson, but then blamed sagging sales on its diverse roster and not its inane events. At this stage, I'm hard pressed to think of a character who's gone through some sort of fundamental change that seems to stick. Right now, all I've got is Sharon Carter, Groot, Iceman, and Thor. Sharon is still old. Groot's metamorphosis was an event-related change, so we'll see if that sticks. Bobby is still gay. Odinson is Thor again, but he's having to make do without his hammer. Otherwise, it's all pretty much the same. Dan Slott even undid all the changes he made to Peter Parker's status quo over the course of his 100+ run; Peter's life right now is hardly distinguishable from "Amazing Spider-Man" #546, when "Brand New Day" began (with one exception I'll discuss in the next paragraph).
I get the double-edged sword of continuity. I can only appreciate "Batman: White Knight" as an innovative take on Batman because I've got the security blanket of "Batman" and "Detective Comics" advancing a 79-year-old story. I'm loving series like "Oblivion Song," "The Realm," and "The Weatherman" because they're so fresh and new; eighty years from now, they probably wouldn't feel as fresh. But, some authors have introduced change in a way that worked. Chip Zdarksy let JJJ, Jr. know Spider-Man's identity a few issues ago, and it totally jolted the Spider-Man franchise to life. It's not all about replacing one character with another one. Sometimes, it can just be changing a relationship. It's what I was hoping to see with Batman, Kitty, Piotr, and Selina. But, DC and Marvel have decided even that minimum amount of change isn't possible.
Where Do We Go from Here?
I stopped reading comics the last time because Marvel had gotten so greedy with "The Clone Saga" that I couldn't stand it anymore. The unwieldiness of "The Clone Saga" alone wasn't enough for me to cancel all my subscriptions. It was the unprecedented money grab that pushed me over the edge. For over two years, Marvel asked every Spider-Man fan to buy a comic a week just to understand the story. As a teenager during that era, I didn't have that sort of cash on hand. I acknowledge, as a comics fan, that everyone once in a while I'm going to have to suffer through a summer cross-over event. In those moments, I can choose either to dive into the deep end and buy books I wouldn't normally buy or stay in the shallow end and accept the fact I might be a little confused by the events in the issues I would normally buy. Marvel robbed us of any decision during this era. For two years, I was getting only 25 percent of the story at any given point in time. It was just too much.
I haven't given up all hope. The flipside to Kitty and Piotr breaking their engagement is Gambit and Rogue getting married, giving Kelly Thompson the ability to continue to excellent story she started in "Rogue & Gambit." Bobby is apparently getting back his solo title. But, if DC and Marvel continue to embrace a world where few of their characters can change in this way, I can see the percentage of my pull list comprising their issues growing smaller and smaller. It's time to be brave.
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