Monday, October 23, 2006

I've been a comic book reader for many, many years. Sure, when I was younger I just looked at them and didn't bother to read the word balloons, and after a hiatus for a good portion of my school age years, I resumed buying them in middle school and all the way through college. At any given time, I was buying ten or more books a month, and, as one can imagine, I amassed quite a collection over those years. However, once the shop I bought my books went under, I stopped buying as well. Luckily, it just happened to coincide with the last issue of, what is possibly my favorite book of all time, Preacher, so I didn't just have to stop cold turkey. After that, I spent my time acquiring all of the older issues from the legendary runs that I coveted from before I restarted buying comics in middle school. Thanks to eBay, I was able to complete the collection. All of this to say that I've read my fair share of comic books. Most of them could be considered your typical superhero fare, but a good portion of them are not, as in Preacher, Sin City, and Sandman. All of these fall into what one would term the more mature end of the spectrum and aren't confined to the PG type action typical of most superhero books. What's happened over the years since I stopped buying comics on a regular basis is that writers of superhero comics have been given more leeway with regard to the type of action that can occur within the confines of their books. By this I mean that writers don't have to abide by the old standards of keeping comics family friendly fare and are able to use their freedom to explore more issues that are real life in nature and how those types of events might impact these characters.

The most controversial and somewhat disturbing trend in comics today is the repeated and widespread use of rape as a plot device. Some of the criticism I've come across appears to make the case that the use of rape is nothing more than a weak plot device grasped by a desperate writer. How this came about is anyone's guess, but, while not agreeing with its constant usage, I can see how comic writers feel the need to adapt to the changing world around them and the fact that the well for many characters has run dry many times over. (My first encounter with it appeared in the excellent DC mini-series Identity Crisis.) It seems to me that it's only logical that writers of comic books today might feel the need to inject some real life drama into the characters' lives in which they are shaping in order to maintain a continuous narrative that isn't replete with only those cosmic threats and tired, villainous schemes that are parodied so easily.

There are many things troubling about this trend. First off, it risks making light of a crime that occurs more and more frequently in our society. Why risk turning something so serious into a stock event all for the simple purpose of creating an edgy feel to your book? Second, why has rape of all things become the plot device of choice for today's writers? Perhaps, just as it seemed somewhat absurd to believe that heroes of the past had difficulty defeating the Nazi armies of World War Two, it might seem equally absurd to think about heroes of today fighting a terrorist threat. In other words, superheroes should, logically, feel threatened or at least challenged by an equal or greater threat to their own abilities. While this occurs most often in superhero books, it also doesn't leave too much room for maneuverability plot wise. By inserting a mental element that threatens the lives of the characters in a way that has been previously unexplored, it allows writers to create challenges for heroes on a more personal level rather than confining those challenges strictly to cosmic threats.

What I fear will happen is that writers may become complacent and rely on the simple shock value instilled by having such a horrendous act occur to a beloved character. It's not uncommon for books that are lagging in sales to resort to such publicity stunts, which is not to say that books that do sell don't also suffer from such trends. I guess point I'm trying to make is that I would hate to see a medium that I dearly love reduced to utilizing horrific events to propel a storyline or to simply create shock value within a book.

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