<\/p>\n

Though this may at first seem to have nothing to do with comics, I ask you for a moment to consider the plight of the classical music critic of The New Yorker<\/em>. He surely must feel he has reached the pinnacle of his profession. Yet if he conducts a Google search on his name, he will surely wonder just how famous he is. You seem, this New Yorker<\/em> critic is named Alex Ross<\/a>, and a Web search on his name will turn up pages and pages devoted to this other guy who works in funny books. I wonder what the classical Mr. Ross feels about this. (Then there’re the Scots playwright John Byrne, Karate Kid<\/em> actor Ralph Macchio, High Noon<\/em> villain Frank Miller, and Steve Martin’s role in Bringing Down the House<\/em>, named Peter Sanderson \u00e2\u20ac\u201c all with their comics doppelgangers.)<\/p>\n

The comics version of Alex Ross has grown even more celebrated of late, even getting profiled in the October 30, 2003 edition of The New York Times<\/em>. Presumably the interview was arranged to promote Ross’s recent coffee table book, Mythology: The DC Comics Art of Alex Ross<\/em>, published by Pantheon. Now, the Times<\/em>‘s piece on Ross was not in the art or books section, but in the Sunday House section (“At Home with Alex Ross”). Hence, the profile was less interested in Ross’s artwork (described, perhaps condescendingly, as “earnest photorealism”) as in his house full of action figures and other collectibles and his Halloween party full of adult guests dressed as superheroes. In short, the article is about adults happily playing like kids (not that there’s anything wrong with that) rather than about comics art being taken seriously.<\/p>\n

Still, this article is in one respect better than the piece that New York Times<\/em> film critic Elvis Mitchell wrote about Jack Kirby in the Aug. 27, 2003 issue of the Arts section of the paper. Mitchell praised Kirby’s work and hailed his influence on contemporary movies (and not just those directly adapting his co-creations, like Hulk<\/em> and X2<\/em>) in this article marking the tenth anniversary of his passing. That’s right: the Times<\/em> honors Kirby ten years too late for him to have seen it. It’s commendable that in 2003 the Times<\/em> ran a number of articles about important figures in comics. This is a good start, but they would be well advised to do pieces on surviving members of Kirby’s generation while they are still with us.
\nAlas, I didn’t receive a review copy of Mythology<\/em>, but I have procured copies of Ross’s two new tabloid-sized books about the Justice League of America that were published in 2003: JLA: Secret Origins<\/em> and JLA: Liberty and Justice<\/em>, co-plotted by Alex Ross and Paul Dini, with painted art by Ross and scripting by Dini.<\/p>\n

What first impresses me about these two books is that, like John Byrne, Frank Miller, and Darwyn Cooke (as will be seen in a future column) in recent projects, Ross and Dini have chosen to ignore contemporary canonical DC Universe continuity and devise their own, centering on the DC heroes of the Silver Age (roughly 1956-1970).<\/p>\n

JLA: Liberty and Justice<\/em> is set in the present, and it presents what is essentially the Justice League of America of the Silver Age. Though both were killed off long ago in DC’s current canonical continuity, Barry Allen, the Silver Age Flash, and Hal Jordan, the Silver Age Green Lantern, are alive and active in Ross and Dini’s JLA<\/em> books. Aquaman appears in his original costume and has not lost one of his hands. (How did the recent Captain Hook version of Aquaman manage to swim with that thing?) All the other JLAers depicted in these two books were either members of the League during the Silver Age, or (like Zatanna, Adam Strange, Metamorpho, and Elongated Man) were allies of the League during that period and in some cases joined in the 1970s. The two exceptions are Captain Marvel and Plastic Man, who did not join the League in stories published before Barry Allen’s demise in Crisis on Infinite Earths<\/em>. Yet both are classic characters who originated in the Golden Age of Comics of the 1940s and are still prominent today, so they fit into Dini and Ross’s vision of the Justice League. It is this set of characters whom Ross and Dini profile in their Secret Origins<\/em> book.<\/p>\n

Interviews with Ross and Dini in the back of JLA: Secret Origins<\/em> proved enlightening about their intentions in devising this contemporary extension of the Silver Age. Ross explains, “Essentially, the JLA is so much an invention of the Silver Age, and the characters featured are the primary icons of that era. The Silver Age Flash, Green Lantern, Hawkman, and all the subsequent versions of older, long-running characters like Superman, Batman, Aquaman \u00e2\u20ac\u201c all of them come through the filter of the new Silver Age that [came about] under the editorial influence of Julius Schwartz and the creative writing of Gardner Fox. Particularly as an editor-writer combination, these two put the most thought into recrafting DC’s super heroes and ultimately creating the legends that would stand for years to come.” There are others who deserve credit, too, particularly John Broome, as principal writer of the Silver Age Flash, Green Lantern and 1960s “New Look” Batman, and Denny O’Neil, for revamping Batman and Green Arrow at the close of the Silver Age. But basically Ross is right: Schwartz’s editorship reshaped and revitalized virtually all of the classic heroes in Ross and Dini’s JLA.<\/p>\n

Speaking of the Silver Age versions of these DC heroes, Ross says, “Well, they are the most legendary, well-known forms of those characters, the ones that have lasted the longest. For the case of, say, heroes like the Flash, Green Lantern, Hawkman \u00e2\u20ac\u201c these are versions that have lasted for, like, forty years before there were any revisions made to either their looks or their identities.”<\/p>\n

But wouldn’t the Golden Age versions of these concepts \u00e2\u20ac\u201c those that were around in the 1940s \u00e2\u20ac\u201c like Jay Garrick as the Flash and Alan Scott as Green Lantern \u00e2\u20ac\u201c be preferable since they were the original versions? “To my mind,” Ross answers, “it’s a division between what the Golden Age gave us in terms of an idea, versus what was refined ten or so years later. I believe that, to their credit, guys like Julius Schwartz and Gardner Fox took these earlier designs and reworked them in a way that made them stronger.”<\/p>\n

Then DC editor Charles Kochman asks if contemporary readers would feel that the current Green Lantern, Kyle Rayner, is the superior version. Ross agrees, and says, “Basically, this is an opportunity for Paul and myself to do the versions of the characters that we appreciate the most.” Ross was actually born right after the Silver Age ended, but he and Dini grew up reading those versions of the characters, as they continued to appear in comics before 1986’s Crisis on Infinite Earths<\/em>. Obviously, they have also gone back and read the Silver Age comics, too. In their interviews Ross and Dini both admit that they used these versions of the characters because these are the versions they grew up with.<\/p>\n

But is their preference for the Silver Age versions really just based on nostalgia? Ross argues that the Silver Age versions of Flash, Green Lantern and Hawkman are genuinely superior as artistic creations to their Golden Age counterparts; I agree. I also wonder if Kyle Rayner and Wally West, say, as the current Green Lantern and Flash, and the series built around them, really are characters as memorable and iconic as their Silver Age predecessors. “Even though a big part of our fan base was not even alive when this version of the Justice League was around, it is still the version we feel a lot of people remember,” Dini says in his interview. “Those versions of the characters are very archetypal.”<\/p>\n

Will younger readers have the same strong attachment to West and Rayner decades hence as older readers retain for Allen and Jordan? Ultimately, only time will tell. But still, the recent resurgence of interest in DC’s Silver Age characters by comics creators, not just by Boomers like John Byrne and Frank Miller, but by members of a younger generation like Ross and Darwyn Cooke, suggests that a shift may be in progress. In longrunning comics series, as I have observed before, important concepts and characters that are cast aside in one period will inevitably return as times and tastes change once more.<\/p>\n

The resurgence seems to be yet more evidence that DC was wrong to kill off Silver Age versions of characters in Crisis on Infinite Earths<\/em> and the subsequent period of radical revamps. Important writers and artists still want to use them and are introducing them to a new generation of readers.<\/p>\n

SUPERHERO HISTORY PAINTING<\/strong><\/p>\n

Frank DeCaro, who wrote the Times<\/em> profile of Ross, observes, “But everyone seems to agree that his real accomplishment is making superheroes more real than anyone has ever before \u00e2\u20ac\u201c filmmakers included.” That’s true. Way back when I recall first admiring Gene Colan’s Marvel artwork because his style, closer to magazine illustration than other Marvel artists’, made not only “normal” characters like Tony Stark but the superhuman figures like Iron Man look so convincingly real; Neal Adams’ work on Batman and other series had a similar effect. But Alex Ross’s work has gone even further in capturing a photographic sense of realism.<\/p>\n

DeCaro is also quite right to state that Ross makes superheroes look more realistic than filmmakers, who actually shoot film of real human beings, do. Now, how can that be? It is conventional wisdom that in real life people in superhero costumes look silly: just ask the makers of the X-Men<\/em> movies, who contend that audiences wouldn’t accept costumes and who substituted dull black uniforms instead. Or the makers of TV’s Smallville<\/em>. (But Spider-Man’s costume didn’t prevent his movie from attracting an even bigger audience.)<\/p>\n

Part of the solution is that the wearers of the costumes must have the appropriate heroic build. (Adam West does not strike me as having been particularly physically imposing as the title character on the Batman<\/em> TV show, though, come to think of it, Julie Newmar was as Catwoman.) Ross famously has live models pose for his art; I continue to be astonished that he actually knows so many people who look like that!<\/p>\n

Another factor may be the stylization of the reality within which the superhero operates on film. Some, like Christopher Reeve’s Superman and Tobey Maguire’s Spider-Man, who have relatively simple costumes, look fine against normal backgrounds. But in the Tim Burton Batman movies, Batman’s costume works because the production design around him is so stylized. Another reason why Batman seems ludicrous on the ’60s TV show is that he is operating in such a mundane-looking world; the low-budget Columbia Batman<\/em> movie serials are even worse in this regard.<\/p>\n

But Ross does not deal in obviously stylized settings. His superhero characters look like real people, wearing real fabrics, within a recognizably everyday world. DeCaro states, “Mr. Ross… gives the same kind of earnest photorealism to portraits of well-known superheroes that Norman Rockwell gave the faces of doctors, letter carriers and firefighters.” Ross himself has repeatedly credited Rockwell, the most celebrated magazine illustrator of the last century, as a major influence.<\/p>\n

Through most of the twentieth century, with the triumph of abstraction, the fine art world has tended to look down on drawing and painting that tries to recapture the exact look of reality, which has been ceded to the world of photography and film. In recent years, however, figurative art has made a comeback, and Rockwell’s work has received serious appreciation in critical and academic circles, as demonstrated by a touring retrospective that ended up at New York City’s Guggenheim Museum in 2001.<\/p>\n

However, I think it’s a mistake simply to regard Ross as a latter-day Rockwell who paints superheroes. True, Rockwell and Ross each specialize in creating iconic images, transforming people into archetypal figures. Both artists seek to depict representations of classic American values.<\/p>\n

But Rockwell’s perennial subject is the American everyman (and woman and child). He idealizes and celebrates small-town Americans and their lives. The people he depicts are prettified, and viewed through a glow of nostalgic affection, but they are meant to be the folks next door.<\/p>\n

In contrast, Ross’s specialty is depicting and celebrating the superheroic. His style persuades the observer that he or she is seeing superheroes depicted as real people in a real world. But in fact his art style heightens reality, making not just the superheroes but even their ordinary settings seem grander and handsomer than they would in real life. Going through the JLA<\/em> books, I am struck by how even the “normal” supporting characters and bystanders look larger than life. Perhaps in part Ross’s costumed superheroes so real because the “real,” noncostumed people in his books look so idealized. The two groups are not so far apart: the fireman on page 4 of Secret Origins<\/em> looks nearly as heroic as one of the superheroes.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I can only begin to analyze the methods by which Ross heightens reality: the cover for JLA: Secret Origins<\/em> demonstrates some of them.<\/p>\n

The perfect human figures are obvious. The main figures are arranged in a wedge-like formation that projects towards the reader, with Superman, the most monumental of the figures, in the foreground. There’s also the theatrical play of light and shadow on the figures. As in a John Ford western, Ross continually uses up shots in the book and on the cover, as well: the reader looks up at the heroes, who tower above us. Ross takes the effect further by creating two tiers of heroes, one rising (flying, in fact), above the others, so we have literally two sets of heroes rising above us.<\/p>\n

In Ross’s interview, editor Joey Cavalieri refers to the Silver Age JLAers as “the archetypes,” and I wonder if Marvel Silver Age heroes would prove equally suitable to this kind of treatment by Ross. Perhaps they wouldn’t, since the classic Marvel heroes’ human personalities tend to be more important than their mythic powers and images. Peter Parker’s personality is more important than his spider-powers.<\/p>\n

Most of JLA: Secret Origins<\/em> is comprised of two-page spreads depicting the origins of each major Justice League member. In his interview Ross says that they were inspired by the original two-page origin sequences that Siegel and Shuster and Bob Kane did for Superman and Batman circa 1938-1940. Ross notes that the images used in these sequences made them “iconic.” Explaining why each of his origin sequences is mostly monochromatic, Ross explains, “I meant to invoke a sense of how this is a bygone age. That this is the past, this is a story that’s legendary.”<\/p>\n

In other words, this book deals in the history and mythology of superheroes. This made me see a connection, however unintentional, between Ross’s work and the “history painting” of the 18th and 19th centuries. “History painting” was the depiction of scenes from mythology or actual history, portraying noble figures with heroic builds enacting great events. In fact, during this period, the art world considered history painting to be the highest form of painting, superior to portraiture, landscapes and such. (Since history painting presented narratives, the connection with comics is clear. Moreover, as noted, history painting could also depict scenes from classical mythology. Remember the title of Ross’s coffee table book?)<\/p>\n

One example at the Metropolitan Museum of Art is said to be its most popular painting with tourists: Emanuel Leutze’s enormous “Washington Crossing the Delaware.” Probably many of you have seen this painting reproduced and can envision Washington’s noble stance: Ross speaks in his interview about his “glory shots” of superheroes, and the term could apply to Leutze’s positioning of Washington, too.<\/p>\n

Another of the Metropolitan’s history paintings that has a considerably higher reputation among art historians is David’s “The Death of Socrates,” whose central figure not only radiates nobility but seems to have been working out more than one might expect from an elderly philosopher. But the heroically proportioned human body has been a prime subject of Western art from ancient times up to the twentieth century, when, as noted, figurative art fell from favor in the art world.<\/p>\n

But subjects of such longstanding popularity as the portrayal of the idealized human form and the depiction of mythic events (real or fictional) must obviously have innate appeal to the human psyche. So if the art establishment suppresses these subjects, they will inevitably pop up again somewhere else, perhaps in a popular form of art that the establishment overlooks: in this case, in Alex Ross’s work.<\/p>\n

Each of the Ross-Dini origin sequences follows the same format, and it behooves the reader to pay attention to the variations at certain points in this standard format. Each sequence is primarily monochromatic: which color does Ross choose? What do Dini and Ross choose to picture in the introductory panel, which ranges all the way across two pages. Each sequence closes with an image in full color; what do Dini and Ross decide to spotlight in this fashion?<\/p>\n

The dominant color of the Superman sequence is what Ross calls a “very brown, earthy tone meant to invoke his very earthy origins. Despite the fact that he’s from another planet, he’s really this guy from the Midwestern United States.”<\/p>\n

Ross also states that he tries to depict the origins in what Cavalieri calls an “inclusive” manner, so that each is true both to the original version and to any later revamped version. Hence, as Ross points out, the “exact configuration” of the vehicle taking the baby Kal-El to Earth is obscured by speed lines, so it could just as well be Joe Shuster’s 1938 rocket or John Byrne’s 1986 spacecraft. So Ross is depicting the essence of the origin tales, rather than the details of specific versions. I note too that Ross does not specify a time period through the clothing in this sequence: the overalls Clark wears in one panel could belong to the 1930s or today. In demonstrating Superman’s emerging powers, Dini and Ross adhere to the classic catchphrases: leaping tall buildings with a single bound, faster than a locomotive. Superman is not shown as flying, presumably since, in 1938, he had not yet been given that power.<\/p>\n

The Superman origin sequence emphasizes the character’s childhood, and despite the destruction of his native world, Ross shows it as idyllic. There is the baby Kal-El smiling up at his adoptive parents; in the next panel, despite the shadows obscuring much of the boy Clark’s face, it is still clear from his body language that he is smiling. This is a happy childhood that produced the most optimistic and altruistic of heroes. Dini’s text emphasizes that Clark\/Kal-El is an immigrant who has happily embraced his adoptive world.<\/p>\n

In the panel in which Clark describes becoming a reporter, the bespectacled Kent has turned away from the viewer. Ross regularly portrays Clark Kent as hiding his face. Perhaps this is simply a recognition that, with Ross’s realistic style, the convention that Clark is unrecognizable as Superman becomes even less credible. But it also makes a good psychological point: that Superman, as Clark, retreats from the spotlight, concealing his true self from the world.<\/p>\n

The final picture, which bursts into full color, is an iconic shot of Superman pulling open Clark’s shirt to reveal the Superman insignia beneath. This is the sequence’s only shot of Superman in costume. The implication is that the emergence of Superman is the end result of the all the events depicted from Clark’s childhood: the sacrifice of his parents, his Rockwellian upbringing and education in Midwestern American moral values, and so forth.<\/p>\n

The very next origin sequence, Batman’s, presents a sharp contrast. The color now is not Superman’s warm reddish brown, but a dark, chilly blue, perhaps even evoking “blue” emotions. (So, this is Alex’s Blue Period?) The opening panel is a Gotham cityscape, contrasting with Clark’s open, Midwestern plains. Batman appears in silhouette, his head outlined by the moon: he is a creature of the moon and night, as opposed to Superman, who literally derives his power from the sun. The “creature” aspect is heightened by the flying bats in the sky, and the parallel Ross draws between the Batman and the gargoyle on which he kneels, both serving as guardian figures meant to frighten off intruders.<\/p>\n

Superman did not appear in costume until the end of his sequence, but Batman in costume is in the first two panels of his. Perhaps this implies that Clark is Superman’s true self, but Batman is the reality within Bruce Wayne. As if to reinforce that point, we are never shown a clear view of the adult Bruce Wayne’s face.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Whereas the Superman sequence was a celebration of family life, the Batman sequence centers on the destruction of the idealized family. The killer of Bruce Wayne’s parents, whether it is Joe Chill (in old comics continuity), Jack Napier (in the movie) or some unknown party (since the Zero Hour<\/em> continuity revision), is a Jungian shadow figure almost entirely covered by literal shadow: at one anonymous and an embodiment of dark forces. The shot of young Bruce with his parents’ corpses is a nod to artist David Mazzucchelli’s iconic image from Frank Miller’s Batman: Year One<\/em>.<\/p>\n

The final panel here shows as full color image of the young, brooding Bruce Wayne kneeling, hands clasped, as if in prayer, taking his oath to war on all crime. It is our first direct look into his eyes, as they radiate the vengefulness that will drive his whole life. He stares eerily at the reader, as if wondering if the reader is a potential target, as the shadow of Batman looms above him. It is as if a kind of monster has been born within this child. The final image in color signals that within the adult Batman this vengeful, emotionally wounded child still exists.
\n
\nWonder Woman’s sequence is brown, but without the reddish tone of the Superman origin: here the brown perhaps indicates the archaic nature of Amazon history, or perhaps the clay from which she was formed. (“I created a living daughter out of the Earth itself,” Amazon queen Hippolyta says here about Wonder Woman’s variation on virgin birth.) The opening panel pictures the war between the Amazons and male warriors led by Hercules, here a silhouetted figure whose traditional lion skin makes him seem more beast than man: this establishes the background for Wonder Woman’s mission against male warfare and oppression of women. There is again an emphasis ion childhood: the literal molding of the child Diana, and the sight of the grown Diana peering around a pillar at her royal mother, like a shy girl at once awed by her parent and wishing she could equal her achievements. In the end Diana surpassed her mother, who stands downcast as Diana emerges into full color in the costume of Wonder Woman. (I like Ross’s kangaroos in this sequence, too. In fact, my favorite part of his Shazam<\/em> book was his portrait of Mr. Tawky Tawny, making him look like an actual tiger.)<\/p>\n

\nThe Flash sequence is in red, matching the Scarlet Speedster’s costume. There’s something of the feel of a horror movie here, with scientist Barry Allen sitting in deep shadow as the lightning that will give him his powers crashes outside with godlike power. Here the concluding color image shows the Flash, in costume but unmasked, kissing his wife Iris. Though the Silver Age DC superhero series have been castigated as adolescent fantasies, Ross and Dini celebrate the Flash from a mature perspective, showing him as one of a pair of young married lovers.
\n No surprise here: the Green Lantern origin is in green. The top panel, the only one showing Hal Jordan in costume, depicts a large number of Green Lanterns in flight together like a flock of birds. In this sequence Dini and Ross are emphasizing not an individual Green Lantern so much as the entire Green Lantern Corps, its origin and history. The concluding color image here is that of the alien Green Lantern Abin Sur passing his ring to his successor Hal Jordan: the focus is on the continuity of the Green Lantern tradition, more than the individual.<\/p>\n

The Aquaman sequence is in the blue-green color of the sea. Babyhood is a motif again, but notice that, while the infant Clark was shown smiling at his foster parents, the similar shot of the baby Aquaman conceals his face: this throws the emphasis on his parents, and, amusingly, the father has Popeye’s hat and corncob pipe.
\n This also fits into this sequence’s focus on marital as well as parental love. The shot of Aquaman’s father rescuing his mother is the stuff of romance. Another panel is devoted to the wedding of the adult Aquaman to Mera. (Unlike Superman and Martian Manhunter, Aquaman returns to his native realm.) The final color panel echoes the shot of the infant Aquaman with his parents: now it is Aquaman and Mera holding their child. With the Flash, Ross and Dini celebrated young married love; with Aquaman they celebrate the next phase, parenthood.
\n The Martian Manhunter’s sequence is the dull reddish color of the Martian landscape. That terrain is the subject of the first panel: desolate, devastated, “as barren as it is lonely.” In both JLA books Dini makes the point that unlike Superman, only an infant when Krypton was destroyed (or, in Byrne’s version, not yet born), J’onn J’onzz remembers the destruction of his civilization; hence, while Superman, who could easily fit into the human population, has a sunny, optimistic disposition, J’onn is lonely and gloomy. Dini here calls J’onn an “immigrant” who “found a way to assimilate,” but the panel shows him, in human guise, as faceless: he has not truly fit in. Ross cleverly depicts J’onn’s emergence on Earth, making it unclear whether his true form is humanoid (as in the original continuity) or inhuman (as in the recent revision). I am very pleased with Ross’s rendition of J’onn’s benefactor Dr. Erdel, making this 1950s cartoony caricature look credibly real. The final image shows the Manhunter soaring into space, alone, apart from Earth.
\n The Green Arrow sequence is green, too, naturally, and Dini’s text emphasizes that he is a modern “urban Robin Hood.” Green Arrow, like Robin Hood, is a form of the mythic “green man” archetype, the man of nature. But here only the opening image of Oliver Queen as a kind of latter-day Robinson Crusoe, learning to survive on a deserted island, has a mythic feel.
\n With the Hawkman origin Ross and Dini are very specifically doing the Silver Age version, and not those that preceded or followed. The final shot here makes Hawkman and Hawkgirl look eerily birdlike, thanks in part to the lighting effects. It is significant that Ross and Dini show both the Hawks in this panel: this is another celebration of love, in this case, of a couple who are partners in action as well as in private life.<\/p>\n

The Atom’s sequence is in blue, but a lighter, warmer one than Batman’s, perhaps to emphasize how the Atom figuratively draws his powers from the night: literally from a meteor from a white dwarf star that fell at night. I’m pleased and amused by the shot of the Atom running atop molecules drawn like science class models of the 1960s.<\/p>\n

The gray of the Captain Marvel sequence suggests the archaic \u00e2\u20ac\u201c the ancient idols of the “Seven Deadly Enemies of Man,” Shazam’s resemblance to an Old Testament prophet, and the bleakness of orphan Billy Batson’s life in Depression-era New York. Here the color image signifies life and vitality appearing amidst age and dreariness. Both Billy and Captain Marvel are in color, putting the focus on the joyous ascension of orphaned child to powerful adult.<\/p>\n

The only false step in these origin sequences lies in Plastic Man’s: deleting the monk from the story weakens the theme of Plas’s spiritual rebirth. It’s impressive indeed how Ross can make Plas’s cartoony stretching (especially the shot of him pulling on his face) look so real: as I said in a previous column<\/a>, making Plastic Man and his world look real makes his stretching funnier. For once Plas even looks believable disguised as a table.
\n There follow portraits of other JLAers from the Silver Age, including one of my favorite shots of Zatanna ever. The “story” ends with a very impressive two page shot of the major League members standing imposingly together. And here one can see another of Ross’s virtues: unlike so many comics artists, he gives his heroes distinctive faces from each other, and even gives them varying heights.<\/p>\n

In short, then, this is a magnificent showcase of comics art. Should any one wish to make a case for the mythic grandeur of the superhero concept, JLA: Secret Origins<\/em> should be Exhibit One.<\/p>\n

TAKING LIBERTIES FOR JUSTICE<\/strong><\/p>\n

While JLA: Secret Origins<\/em> deals with the Justice Leaguers’ legendary pasts, Ross and Dini’s JLA: Liberty and Justice<\/em> is a new story set in the present, and, intentionally or not, it raises some intriguing questions not just about the figure of the superhero but about today’s international politics.<\/p>\n

The Pentagon asks the Justice League to stop the spread of an unusual, lethal virus, which has appeared in a wartorn region of Africa. Hoping to avoid worldwide panic, the Pentagon also wants to prevent news of the outbreak from spreading.<\/p>\n

Inevitably in the information age, the JLA has much more success in controlling the virus than in keeping its existence quiet. Early on, the Flash wonders aloud if they have the “right to intervene,” but it is decided they must to save lives. Nonetheless, in the course of their mission, the JLA find themselves obliged to combat various foreign military forces. This inspires suspicion and mistrust of the Justice League, both in America and in other countries, as voiced in various television reports we are shown. One speaks of “the Justice League’s largely secretive response to the situation”; elsewhere on that page we are told that “the President has remained unavailable for comment.” Another talking head, noting the crisis posed by the virus, asks, “How does that mitigate Superman and the others acting without the approval of the U.N. or any African government?” Superman gloomily reflects that “Power always seems to intimidate, no matter how familiar the face or altruistic the intentions,” and that “Our biggest battle may be against public perception.”<\/p>\n

\nLike 1602<\/em>‘s invasion of Latveria, the story of JLA: Liberty and Justice<\/em> seems to reflect the course taken by the United States after September 11, 2001; whether the parallel was consciously intended by Dini and Ross, I do not know. But the fact that the JLA are working with the Pentagon, and that the story links the JLA’s secretiveness to the American President’s, makes the connection clear. In the real world, the only remaining “superpower,” the United States, has asserted a right to intervene unilaterally in other nations to combat threats to its security, as it has in Afghanistan and Iraq. As in Liberty and Justice<\/em>, America’s interventions, whether justified or not, have resulted in hostility, fear and criticism from other countries, and there are those who accuse the United States of being the real threat to the world.<\/p>\n

In the Justice League’s case, couldn’t the American government have done anything to forestall the criticism? Couldn’t the United States at least have informed the United Nations that the Justice League was being sent to deal with this emergency? Once the news of the virus got out, couldn’t the government have explained the situation to the worldwide public, instead of retreating into secrecy?<\/p>\n

For that matter, couldn’t the JLA themselves have been less secretive? Certainly, they had their hands full coping with the virus. But later in the book, when disorder breaks out across the country, the active Leaguers send out a call to their “associate members” to come help out. Well, couldn’t the JLA have earlier assigned an associate member to be a liaison with the news media or send explanatory messages to the U.N.? (Hey, Dini and Ross could have put old-time JLA mascot Snapper Carr into the story and had him do it!) I very much like the way that Dini and Ross have Green Lantern use his power ring to perform analyses and research and to speak its findings to him, as it did in the Silver Age: it’s as if Silver Age GL editor Julius Schwartz and writer John Broome had anticipated the portable personal computer. Well, why couldn’t Green Lantern have used the ring to send off a few messages about what the JLA was doing to the U.N. and several news sources?<\/p>\n

Actually, if the JLA existed in reality, they probably would have to have a support staff, including a press secretary. One of the odd aspects of superhero comics is the fact that writers will give the heroes vast, impressive headquarters and provide no more than, say, an middle-aged butler like Alfred or Jarvis to do everything from maintaining the high-tech equipment to making beds and sweeping up. (Mark Gruenwald tried to treat the situation more realistically by creating the “Avengers Crew,” that team’s support staff, but later editors and writers didn’t get the point and dropped it.)<\/p>\n

In a variation of this assumption that the heroes don’t need outside help, Liberty and Justice<\/em> purports that Batman, who is not a physician or trained biologist; the Atom, who is a physicist; and the Flash, who is a forensic scientist (Yes, the Silver Age Flash verged into C.S. I.<\/em> territory four decades early) are capable of concocting a cure for the mystery virus. Well, sure, the Atom’s ability to shrink to the size of the virus, and the Flash’s ability to work at superhuman speed give them advantages that normal researchers do not, but wouldn’t it seem more credible if the JLA had actually called in real medical doctors and biologists as advisors?<\/p>\n

Dini and Ross’s treatment of the world’s attitudes towards the Justice League differ sharply from Kurt Busiek and George Perez’s take on the same subject in the recent “JLA\/Avengers” mini-series. Busiek and Perez made the point that on DC’s Earth, its leading superheroes are respected, trusted and beloved, whereas on Marvel-Earth, superheroes are regarded with suspicion. Certainly this was true during the Silver Age, but Marvel’s 1960s revolution of the superhero genre influenced new generations of writers who worked on DC’s characters as well. It’s no surprise, then, that Dini and Ross show that the world can easily fall into resentment and fear of the Justice League. Still, I like the distinction that Busiek and Perez drew between the public attitudes towards superheroes in the Marvel and DC Universes, and I think it’s a good thing if the Big Two companies take such different approaches to the subject. It makes more sense, too: the JLAers have publicly performed so many good works up to and including saving the world repeatedly that one might think most people would give them the benefit of the doubt. Indeed, one can easily observe in real life how the natural tendency of most of the American public is to rally round the flag and support the President in times of crisis, to trust him and the presiding administration in times of emergency. Surely there’s be a sizable proportion of the public who would have the same faith in the JLA.<\/p>\n

It’s not just that the JLA are just doing their work and just suffer from having their good intentions misinterpreted. How about the sequence in which Aquaman, realizing that a frightened Russian submarine captain is holding a gun, confirms the poor man’s worst fears: Aquaman summons whales to attack the sub and throws a temper tantrum, raging, “Am I making myself understood?” Well, no, considering Aquaman is speaking to them in English, despite the fact that he had earlier demonstrated his fluency in Russian.<\/p>\n

Panic within the United States leads to crime sprees and rioting. The JLAers find themselves using force to restore order: “In the span of one day, humanity’s benevolent guardians had become its hostile wardens,” Dini writes, describing the heroes as “diving upon them like vengeful gods.”<\/p>\n

I wish that this sequence didn’t make it seem as if virtually everyone in the country was running wild. In depicting superheroes, one should be careful to avoid conveying the idea that the powerful elite have to keep the irresponsible common people in their place.<\/p>\n

The thematic turning point follows the traditional mythic motif of figurative death and resurrection: a despairing young woman leaps off a bridge but is rescued by the JLA’s central figure, Superman. From then on, the story takes a more positive turn: Flash and Green Lantern perform what is significantly called a “miracle” to rid Earth of the virus, and Superman, perhaps motivated by the suicide attempt, tells the other Leaguers that it “still has much to heal.”<\/p>\n

This leads to the JLA’s appearance before the United Nations at the story’s end: Superman addresses the General Assembly to tell them it was not the JLA’s intention to “provide misinformation, or hide the truth,” and then can’t go through with “this deception”: “Superman” shapeshifts into the Martian Manhunter, who explains that Superman is busy elsewhere. (Actually, that seems to be Superman, as Clark Kent, in the audience on the next page.) So what was that all about? Even in an address to the United Nations and the world, the JLA intended to lie! Even after J’onn J’onzz admits the deception, would that inspire confidence and trust? Even people who supported the JLA’s actions would wonder why the Leaguers even considered perpetrating such a deception and what else they might have lied about. This reminds me of Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Strikes Back<\/em>, in which the President turns out to be merely a CGI image, manipulated by Lex Luthor, the country’s real and secret ruler.<\/p>\n

Still, this penultimate scene in the United Nations does play a necessary part in making this entire story work. By appearing before the United Nations to explain their actions, the Justice League is acknowledging its authority and that of the nations of the world. J’onn J’onzz, speaking for the League, states that because of unusual circumstances \u00e2\u20ac\u201c “a global threat” in which they “had very little time to act” \u00e2\u20ac\u201c the League took “extraordinary measures” in order “to safeguard lives and property.” Though he never actually says so, J’onn J’onzz’s implication is that with the emergency over, the League no longer seeks to place itself above ordinary humanity. “Our greatest power,” he says, “comes from your belief in us, as your allies and friends.”<\/p>\n

The key to J’onn J’onzz’s speech lies in his declaration that the JLAers, despite their powers, are not the people’s superiors but their equals, and, indeed, members of the people themselves. “Yet in our hearts we are no different from most people,” he says. “We are part of the work force that makes up society, each of us having the same goals for a happy life, free from worry. No one in our company has ever aspired to world conqueror… We cherish your trust, and hope you will always find is worthy of it.” That is an act of submission to the public will: the JLA have declared themselves to be not the public’s masters but their servants.<\/p>\n

This is what distinguishes and redeems the American superhero from the potentially fascist concept of the Nietzchean ubermensch from which it derives: the emphasis on the superhero’s humanity and service to his or her fellow men and women. J’onn J’onzz refers to the “delicate balance” between freedom and order; there is likewise a delicate balance that must be achieved in the depiction of superheroes between the image of aggressive power and compassionate humanity.<\/p>\n

Whether J’onn J’onzz’s speech is really as reassuring as Dini and Ross presumably intend is questionable. The JLA does not pledge never to act without legal authority again; they simply ask for the world’s trust that they will do what is right. But remember a series that Ross greatly admires, Mark Gruenwald’s Squadron Supreme<\/em>, which is inspired by the Silver Age Justice League, in which a superhero team assumes control of the United States after a devastating war in order to rebuild it into a utopia. Gruenwald made the argument in the series that the road to hell is paved with the best intentions, that even the altruistic Squadron members ended up violating human liberties, and that even benevolent dictators are still dictators who must be overthrown.<\/p>\n

In the course of telling its tale, JLA: Liberty and Justice<\/em> is full of wonderful touches. Those readers who think that Barry Allen and Hal Jordan lack the personality of their successors should study Ross’s portraits of their unmasked faces: Barry is a crewcutted Midwesterner who has a look of innocence to him, while Hal looks very much the slightly roguish young leading man. Dini does a wonderful job in a page consisting of a conversation between Flash and Green Lantern: one can see the chemistry that made these two disparate personalities into friends. Wonder Woman displays an ethereal beauty (and, I repeat, Ross seems to actually know people who look like this!). Dini’s dialogue for the Martian Manhunter reminds me of what Marvel’s Silver Surfer used to be: J’onn, the alien outsider, wonders why humans cannot appreciate the beauty of their planet as much as he does. In a montage of scenes from classic Justice League stories, I am especially taken with the shot of Kanjar Ro, shadows disguising his cartoony appearance, imperiously commanding his Slave Ship of Space. Batman is not present onstage when the JLA appear before the U. N., presumably to maintain the idea that most people on DC’s Earth consider Batman to be an urban legend. (But is that Bruce Wayne smirking in the audience, the light on his face mimicking the shape of Batman’s cowl?) My favorite shot of Batman in the book has him wedged within a panel at the Pentagon, spookily spying on his fellow Leaguers from hiding. There’s the extraordinary double-page first shot of Green Lantern soaring in space against the background of a blue Earth swathed in white clouds, or the shot of Aquaman, lit by strong sunlight, standing astride a whale charging towards the readers. And there’s a nighttime depiction of Hawkgirl and Hawkman, lit from below standing atop a ledge, even more impressive than the Secret Origins<\/em> shot.<\/p>\n

And in the end JLA: Liberty and Justice<\/em> reaffirms the moral idealism of DC’s Silver Age superheroes. Having ventured too far into dominating mankind rather than serving them, the JLA effectively apologize by recognizing their common humanity (even shared by the alien members) with the people they protect.<\/p>\n

I wonder if all this new attention to the Silver Age isn’t a sign that the audience may be growing for just this sort of approach. A significant number of major comics creators are trying to make the Silver Age characters work in the more sophisticated writing styles of the present and for an older audience. (And that Spider-Man<\/em> movie was pretty positive and true to the Silver Age stories on which it was based, and look how much money it made.) True, the antiheroic school of comics writing still predominates. But perhaps the pendulum is at last beginning to swing back.<\/p>\n

-Copyright 2004 Peter Sanderson<\/a><\/em> <\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Alex Ross-o-rama…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[48,18],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5412","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-columns","category-comics-in-context"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/asitecalledfred.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5412","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/asitecalledfred.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/asitecalledfred.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/asitecalledfred.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/asitecalledfred.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5412"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/asitecalledfred.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5412\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/asitecalledfred.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5412"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/asitecalledfred.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5412"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/asitecalledfred.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5412"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}